Disclaimer: Once upon a time there lived a sexy Namek (me!) and in the Namek's big, completely decked out mansion lay a heap of money at a staggering height of twenty feet. The Namek would secretly slink away into the treasury and bathe in the green bills the steamy beast had earned with his amazing creation: Dragon Ball Z!...oh, wait...it's just a vain dream. I'll never own DBZ *sniffs*...NEVER!
A/N: Anywhoooo!...It's finally here! Za second chapta! My reviewers are so appreciated...really..you have NO idea how much you inspire me.
WARNING: This is a warning for everyone who didn't read the first story to this series and haven't read my author's notes! First off, Nameks are aliens and I don't think their anatomy is 100% in matching exactly with ours so they aren't going to be here...if there's a possibility you won't like it just remember that your the one making yourself read. Secondly, there is smut in this even though there is a story backing it up. Lastly, if your not mature enough for this don't read it please. I'm dead serious! Take a second and think before you scroll down. No underage kiddies! :( …..there..my two cents.
Also, I thought you should know that this came out completely opposite of what I had originally written. Please don't be upset! I know some, if not all expected this chapter to revolve around the sneak peak I gave you in the first story, but don't flame me. I beg of you to see reason! I don't know if I can handle my awesome reviewers and followers ire. It's still very good and angsty...just different is all. I really like how it turned out personally.
9 . . 8 . . 7 . . 6 . . 5 . . 4 . . 5 . . 6 . . 7 . . 8 . . 9 … notice the funky count down?
It wasn't ever gonna be easy, It will always be worth it: Chapter 2
…...Couldn't they see what was happening? What he was doing to him? His good friends, oblivious to Dende's distress, ate and conversed with abandon. He wanted for someone to call on his lover's insane actions. To make him stop. If he could just get a sound, a word, for Kami's sake, anything out past his slack mouth to alert them maybe Piccolo would leave him be.
Because if he couldn't...
He knew he wouldn't tell him to stop...
He would give in to the sensations his other half administered...
and he wouldn't care that they were in public...that the others might see.
Hot breath against the back of his neck graced Dende with an involuntary full body shudder.
"It's your own damn fault Dende," the deep voice purred, too close to his sensitive ears, "What were you thinking? Flaunting that luscious body in front of me?"
The irony, even in his current predicament, didn't lose it dark humor on him. He'd heard those words before...Dende's intake of air never made it to his lungs.
He felt the back of his robes being lifted...
Piccolo awoke with a throat ripping cry as he bolted upright in a panic. Sweat made its way down every indented line of his burning skin. He clutched at the thin blanket covering his trembling form, it too hadn't been spared from becoming completely soaked in perspiration. Piccolo's intakes of life preserving oxygen were shallow and quick. Clumsily he reached out for the other lying beside him and sobbed in relief when he could feel Dende's heart beating steadily beneath his searching fingers.
They were both safe in bed at the Lookout, at home. Piccolo weakly lay back down and worked to bring his Ki under normal levels.
Ever since they had gotten that damn invitation Piccolo was having these dreams. He experienced the dreams as if he were his beloved, (Piccolo is not beyond such a sappy word) and in the dreams Piccolo hadn't been able to control his lust for Dende, taking advantage of his smaller lover...in public. More specifically, at Bulma's wedding reception that was scheduled to take place in two days. Piccolo has never been easily deluded, he knew he would never do that to Dende, ever! But the dreams were doing a pretty job of tearing apart his assurance that Dende didn't feel intimidated by Piccolo's abrupt turn around in how he treated his mate and wondered if the smaller Namek almost felt obligated to cave into Piccolo's insatiable sex drive.
"How many times am I going to have to say this?" Dende, startled awake by Piccolo's intense emotions slipping through their new cerebral bond, rolled onto his side to sleepily stare at his shaken lover. "It's not a sex drive. We don't have those."
"Then what, pray tell, would you call this animalistic obsession for craving to constantly take you in every conceivable way possible?" Piccolo whispered back, slightly annoyed that Dende couldn't take this whole screwing up of Piccolo's mind seriously at all. He felt amusement swirling gently from Dende's side of the link.
"Well, Porunga called it a 'thirsting'."
"That makes a poetic kind of sense, being Namekian and all."
"That's exactly what I said. Porunga also informed me that we can't feel a thirsting for anyone other than the one love of our choosing. Your cravings only fuel my fire, amongst other parts of me, for you so quit sulking. There is nothing wrong in drooling after me because that would mean I'm in the wrong as well and I refuse to admit I'm ever wrong. So what if you can't quench your desires for me? I rather like them, grown quite fond of them actually." Dende wiggled closer to an unconvinced Piccolo and wormed his way under a thickly muscled arm. He sighed contentedly, never minding the smell of Piccolo's unfounded worries, and rested his arm's length atop wholesome abbs.
Piccolo had better not become flighty and desert him again or Dende would have to spell-bind his feet to their bedroom floor. He let this threat be known to his restless love and gave it time to sink in before he sat up unexpectedly and moved to straddle Piccolo's waist.
"Whatever it is that you dream about Piccolo," He leaned forward and rested both hands on either side of Piccolo's head, "Forget it."
It didn't take Dende long to erase the troubled thoughts of Piccolo's mind and overwhelm his body with something much more potent.
…...o O XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX O o......
Dende has a nervous habit of hiding behind concealed places at social gatherings and he was especially shy this time while attending Bulma's reception. Everybody he had befriended on Namek and Earth had been invited and judging by the turn out not one name on the guest list hadn't been accounted for. Sure, he had lived half of his life surrounded by Nameks on every side, but this situation was entirely different. These people's mannerisms were not in the least bit like those of peace loving, calm Nameks. The sound alone, made by no less than fifty persons, was convincing enough to make quick Dende's elopement. Even now his ears pounded in painful remembrance of the great hullabaloo he had barely manage to deliver himself from. The closest place of retreat he could find was the spacious garden right outside the recreation hall where the main portion of the reception was taking place. Delicately seated behind a tall column supporting a wicker roofing of entangled ivy the splendidly robed guardian tried to relax.
Okay, so he hadn't been successful in his quest to persuade Piccolo that they must attend the wedding, however, after a bout of heatedly exchanged words they came to a compromise and here he was, trying to mold himself into the white pillar at his back.
Stupid.
The wedding would have been more forgiving than this. Dende mentally kicked himself for underestimating his ineptness at handling crowds. His grumpy lover must possess the ability to see into the future because that had been his main argument in their verbal tussle. Piccolo had vehemently insisted that they were not required to be present at both functions.
"Besides, by the time this ridiculous party begins you will be emotionally exhausted! The wedding is an hour long all by itself and if I know you like I do, Dende, you will cry your pretty eyes out. When you show such affections it always drains you in no time." Dende could still remember the way Piccolo's tone had gushed with concern for his short significant other after his anger was obviously getting him nowhere in their little spat.
"Please, Dende...reconsider if not for your health than for mine...I-I don't...I don't want to go." Piccolo had pleaded.
Dende couldn't say no to the face his dear Piccolo was using to make war on him. On the other hand there was little to nothing that could dissuade him from sharing in Bulma's happiness on such a momentous day of her life. An agreeable cord had been struck between the lovers and sealed with a disheveling kiss of dooming proportions.
They would skip the ceremony and only stay long enough at the reception to converse with good friends and bid Bulma and her...prince...a fruitful future.
Someone called his name, forcing him back to the time at hand. Oh, Porunga! 'Please don't find me. Let me stay this way at least until it's gift opening time. Please don't find me..please..please,please,please," Dende remained stiff and his chest throbbed in time to the sound of approaching footsteps.
"Dende! Come out already!" called a searching Gohan, "I know your over here somewhere. Why can't a guy get a hearty hug from one of his best buddies?"
'Because he's too shy and out of his damn mind if he thought the years could improve hissocial awkwardness, that's why!' Dende thought to Gohan, knowing the other couldn't hear him.
Gohan turned to leave when a small sigh caught the attention of his Saiyan ears. HA! Dende had given himself away with that tiny slip up and Gohan would see him pay for deserting the festivities to fester in his insecurities. Quietly shedding his shoes, the orange clad young man silently crept toward the origin of said sigh. He heard someone exhale loudly and the dry wisps of heavy fabric rubbing against the tiled flooring of Capsule Corp's radiant garden.
"I wonder if I might just give Bulma her present early and escape while no one's looking," the guardian of the Earth mused. Unbeknownst to our little green friend he was seconds away from embarrassing discovery. He continued, "Piccolo was right, I should have sent it in the Kami freaking mail!"
Gohan had to cover his mouth to silence the giggles threatening to burst their way out. Piccolo saying 'Kami freaking'? Now that was funny. He could just see the tall warrior's cold no-nonsense expression as he said that to a immovable Dende. A small miniscule sound breached an even tinier gap through Gohan's ten fingered shield. Dende stiffened and his breath caught. After a few intensely quiet moments Dende decided he could breathe easy and resumed his scolding speech to himself.
"He's always right ya green dummy," Gohan had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing so hard and give away his surprise attack, "When will you learn Dende? Probably like...never. Piccolo's always right."
Dende sighed again, this time somewhat dreamily, "Not that I mind him being correct on every matter, even with his assumptions."
Regaining a hold on himself the first born of Goku crept a little closer. So Piccolo was living at the Lookout huh? No wonder Gohan hadn't been able to get in touch with his old Sensei. The Namek was living high up on the floating watchtower overlooking the Earth. This intrigued Gohan and so with new intent he made not a sound as he sat on the other side of Dende's column to listen for news of his Namekian friends.
"Maybe it's not to late to take him up on his offer," The seclusive Namek whispered wistfully, "He's been so clingy of late and I must admit that I'm loving this side of my stud."
….Hold the phone!
Gohan's brows drew tight together and his nose crinkled in a humorous look of confusion. Had he heard correctly? Did his smaller friend just say his stud? Were they thinking of the same Piccolo? Cuz the serious Namek Gohan knew was definitely not a...a stud!
A low purr came from behind the wide cylinder, followed by what could only be deciphered as a lust laced hum.
'Now this is just getting creepy.' Gohan thought, getting slightly nervous. He was only now considering that this might not be any of his business and regretted even thinking to spy on Dende. Were Dende and Piccolo-?...Could Nameks have-?...Just how exactly does that even work!?
Gohan started his unsavory habit of chewing his fingernails down to unrecognizable stubs. Come to think of it Dende and Piccolo were the only two Namekians on the Earth. And who's to say that that particular race doesn't have relationships of THAT kind? Gohan made up his conflicted mind impressively quick. He had to get away from Dende and his scary implying words. The half human had barely shifted to move when a throaty moan stopped him in his tracks.
What in the name of all that is natural was THAT!?
Panic sprung up in Gohan's now heaving chest, making it agonizingly difficult to stay silent. He was in for it now, and he was gonna get his just deserts big time! The sound of something sliding up against the pillar seemed to whisper to him, "This is what you get for snooping in on your trusting friend. Now you'll never be able to look Dende in the eye, ever again."
A new voice nearly forced Gohan's heart to burst and fill him full of loose crimson liquid, "So, Dende you like it when I'm all over you?"
This questionable query was followed by a quivering gasp. The previously considered sturdy column rocked slightly.
The inflecting tones of the newcomer shifted sensually lower, "Meddlesome dress-
"-Robe." Dende interjected.
"Sure, robe...whatever. Let's see how sweet Dende is feeling..right..there!"
"Oh!"
"I'd say he's feeling pretty good. Would you agree?"
"Y-yeah," Dende, submissive.
Gohan just about shit himself.
How had Piccolo gotten back there?! Heck, when had he arrived? Gohan hadn't felt a solitary hint of the big guy's Ki during the whole reception until now. Gohan, his throat collapsing in on itself, slowly stood and lifted his left foot to begin the first step of his escape.
"Where do you think your going?" Piccolo's deep voice rumbled, "We've only just started."
Gohan didn't move a single muscle or atom in his entire body, his elevated foot froze in it's place, six inches from the ground.
"N-not here Piccolo-ah! L-let's go home for this. Please?" Dende requested, although deep down he didn't mind at all. He just didn't want some moron stumbling in on them and seeing a part of Piccolo only meant for him to experience.
"Alright, if it makes you more...susceptible." Piccolo was secretly delighted that he was able to hold off ravishing Dende right there in the garden despite the impatience of his voice.
Gohan was too relieved to think straight and his left foot finally reached it's destination with a painfully audible 'thump'. Piccolo's head whipped around the corner so fast Gohan had barely a second to put on a false show of just arriving.
"Oh, hey you two!" He said jovially, "I was told to get you guys. It's time to eat!"
Piccolo and Dende stepped out from behind the column. The older Namek's face a mask of stoic pride while the smaller of the two emerald skinned aliens appeared mussed and flushed. Gohan's eyes involuntarily flicked down to notice the corner of Dende's outer layer of robe had descended half way down his upper arm during the brief time he had spent in hiding. Dende's timidly tiny smile and one slightly swollen curved antennae were other signs of a disturbing change in the slim Namek's usually calm and collected countenance. Gohan felt his cheeks redden and burn. He looked away quickly and laughed nervously.
Piccolo frowned, "It's an open buffet Gohan."
Gohan's mouth opened to speak and instead it remained agape uselessly.
Piccolo's frown dipped lower, "You of all people should know that Namekians don't eat, Gohan."
The poor kid couldn't comment. He only prayed Piccolo would end him quickly.
Dende, apparently still loved him for he came to the trapped Gohan's aid, saying, "Piccolo, let's get some lemon water. I have to give Bulma her gift anyway."
Gohan would have kissed Dende right on the mouth if he hadn't had a pretty good idea of who's lips had ventured there last. Plus it was downright wrong.
"Yeah, you two do that! I'll b-be over by-...umm..V-Vegeta!" and that's the lame excuse Gohan used to flee his former mentor's accusatory glare.
…...o O XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX O o......
Although Dende didn't quite agree with the color of Bulma's yellow wedding dress he thought the way she had pinned her electric blue hair up in curled ringlets was a stunning look for the accomplished scientist. He said as much as he hugged her and presented her with a small cream colored box. Squealing, the newly wedded bride opened the lid slowly and peeked inside. Her eyes widened.
"Dende I-I..I don't know what to say." she breathed, transfixed by the tiny life held in the box in her upturned hand.
"Just let her out Bulma. She won't fly away." he smiled encouragingly.
Bulma moved the four cornered lid off the rest of the way to reveal a multicolored butterfly of every shade of green known. The beautiful creature raised its dazzling wings lazily, it's reflective blue orb-like eyes regarded the human woman before it. Some silent communication passed between the two as they stared at one another and Bulma smiled brightly.
"Her name is Opal isn't it?" she asked of Dende, who answered her with a wide smile of his own. "She's beautiful."
"Opal is one of the few critters to escape to earth when Namek was destroyed. She was in my pocket at the time." Dende said, tapping the little beauty fondly on her tiny head. "She's not like the butterfly's of Earth, though she does resemble them closely."
"Is that why I can feel her talking to me?"
"Hmm-mmm. Opal is the last Flimpsie. That's her kind."
"Dende."
"Yes?"
"Thank you!"
Bulma caught an unsuspecting Dende in a fierce hug and promptly tried to squeeze the life out of him. She exhibited rarely seen strength by twirling him around in reckless circles. This caught the attention of all and most started clapping and cheering her on. Dende let her abuse him. It was her special day and as long as her new husband didn't expect he could do the same dizzying action to the bashful mage, Dende could live with the unwanted attention. (Dende suspected there would be no coming back from a spin with the violent sovereign)
A sizable crowd had gathered around to stare in awe at Opal as she flew in intricate patterns over Bulma's head. A lot of the people sent questions Dende's way about the origins and species of the dainty winged Flimpsie. He answered to the best of his knowledge, all the while hanging limply at Bulma's side, her arm curled about his skinny waist. His cheeks flushed and his eyes sought out the one person always on his mind.
Piccolo was watching him with a strange glint in his deep dark eyes. It caused an almost violent shudder to run a racking course through Dende. Believing she was hurting him Bulma gave him a chaste kiss and set him down.
Dende couldn't look away from the other Nameks open face. His thoughts deemed it necessary to wander over to the caresses and promises made in the garden not twenty minutes ago. His body recalled the feeling of the long elegant fingers of his one and only as they explored claimed flesh through the heavy fabric of Dende's current attire. Heated breath that had bathed Dende's exposed neck in it's intimate warmth. Best not to forget the powerful thigh thrust in between his own shaking legs to pin and stimulate him simultaneously. Yes...there should be no forgetting that.
Dende swore Piccolo knew exactly what he was thinking about by the telling smirk lifting the corners of that desirable mouth. The taller motioned Dende to look downward with a commanding flick of onyx eyes. Dende did as he was told and what he found...well lets just say it warranted a soft breathy groan. Piccolo's legs had parted marginally, displaying a darkened patch of purple in between his thighs.
Piccolo was wet...In. Public. For. Dende.
Dende's own thighs a sticky mess, gave him cause to thank the long length of his flowing garb. The burning sensation mounting in that secret place between his hips made Dende's vision blur dangerously. He had to get a hold on himself. This couldn't happen here. Certainly not right now!
"Hey, Dende, I have your water right here." Piccolo called, lifting up a clear glass to show him. In his beverage-free hand he held a lemon wedge that was then deposited into Dende's drink with a faint 'ploop'. The embarrassingly aroused protector of Earth watched hopelessly transfixed as a long jade fore finger dipped into the clear liquid and stirred the yellow fruit's sour flavor in with the crisp sweetness of the water. Piccolo lifted the dripping digit to his lips and with slow purposefulness slid it inside his hot mouth. Dende had concluded long ago that it took his devious Demon King at least eleven minutes to reduce him to a incoherent mess, but apparently Piccolo had decided it was nigh time for a new astounding record of less than eighty seconds.
Piccolo pulled the provoking finger all the way from his enticing cavern lewdly, a string of saliva following it's departure.
Oh! By all the divinities in all the known and unknown galaxies Dende was going to drag his mate out by his weighted shoulder pads and do him good against the first stable surface available back at the Lookout. They just needed to leave. A.S.A.P!
Slightly dazed Dende hurriedly left a beaming Bulma to her 'gift' and shuffled through people bodies to get to his lover. He had made it about half-way when a strong hand gripped his arm and pulled him to the side. Dende panicked for only a second before he identified the piercing blue eyes boring audaciously into him as those of Future Trunks.
The intensity in which Trunks' mentally undressing and stripping gaze took him in made Dende feel very uncomfortable. Like, really uncomfortable. It was a way that only one other had ever graced him with. Piccolo, and as Dende saw itonly his Namek should be allowed to look at him like that.
Distressing seconds ticked by as Dende remained locked in Trunk's predatory gaze.
Finally Trunks spoke, breaking the awkwardness of their staring contest, "Why, hello Dende. You look...nice..this evening."
Dende felt a surging rush of very many things that he couldn't begin to comprehend and it unnerved him. What was this about? Him, scared? Of what? Trunks? Trunks of the Future Dende considered a friend. Dende had healed him after the battle in which Cell killed Trunks for his efforts. This was Trunks! Trunks was sweet and kind, unlike his very 'Saiyan' father. (poor Bulma) Dende had no reason to feel uneasy around one of his good friends so he shrugged the nagging emotions off and smiled at the long haired adult.
"Thanks. You too! So, how have you been Trunks? Did you come back specifically for the wedding?" Dende started the beginnings of what every two people chat about after a long absence of not seeing each other. And just like you'd expect from those long-time-no-see greetings it got awkward very easy, very fast.
"I'm doing good. Yes, I am here a short while for the wedding." Trunk's answered automatically. The robotic way in which he replied suggested he wasn't into the initial greetings at all. Trunks went back to studying Dende fixedly, in all likelihood the time traveler had nothing more to say.
"Well that's good to know. I hope you enjoy yourself Trunks. See you around, alright?" Dende made to move away and noticed, a little irritatedly, that Trunks hadn't let go of his arm. The foreboding feelings came back in full and he had to forcefully shove their eery rising down to keep them from owning his persona.
Dende cleared his throat, "Trunks your hurting me. Please let go."
Instead of retracting his battle worn hand Trunks' grip tightened and he pulled the quaking Namek close enough that their chests touched. Trunks' sapphire eyes seemed to devour Dende as they mapped every feature of his petrified face. It was all Dende could do not to scream in terror. No one else in their midst existed, the entire world had slowed to a blurred crawl around them. Just when Dende thought things couldn't become any worse his captor bent his purple head down to invade the last of Dende's breathing space, long kept hair created a veil that shrouded the two, further cutting them off from the other guests.
"T-Trunks pl-ease..." Dende felt himself being sized, judged, and had been found quite the opposite of wanting, "what a-are you-"
Where was Piccolo when he needed him?
Trunks' eyes, so icy blue that they burned all that fell within their unrelenting gaze, flitted closed and the man inhaled deeply through his nose. The trapped Namek's head spun when he realized that Trunks was breathing him in and in such an obscene way that his knees began to falter in their duties.
"Hmmm..." Trunks hummed, his grip so tight that there could be no blood flow to Dende's twitching fingers, "...So good."
…...To be continued...
A/N: So there it is. I will admit that I was to exited to post this before I checked for typo's so if you saw any let me know. What did you think?! this took good chunk of time to write so please take a the measly seconds it does to review! Any guesses as to why Trunks is behaving off his rocker?...