Barracks

Yaoi_Angel: A long awaited episode is happening in this chapter. I doubt it will go as readers have expected it, though. Well, we’ll see. Tell me if it’s at least a bit close to what you’ve expected ^_^

TristaML: Goten has got many things to worry about and soon will get even more things to worry about. A never-ending story. No, not Barracks, but Goten’s worries.
It’s been so long since I started Barracks that I’m not even sure that the character change is the character growth or it’s just the change in my own mentality. Some people (me included) also think that Goten sometimes reads younger as he seemed to be at the beginning, in the officer school.
This is not the last time Goten met the older Prince Vegeta. They are going to have a few more interesting conversations. Vegeta is well-informed and he actually knows much more than Trunks. But what’s that “much more” will only be revealed in a few chapters.
Concerning Gohan’s death, I can say that it really happened as Draman (Gohan’s elite ex-lover) had said. Whether it will have any influence on the further chapters…mmm…not really. It’s just the fact itself about how it ended for his brother that will stick in Goten’s mind for a long, long time.


Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Ball Z – it belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I am not making any money from writing it.
Warnings: Alternate Universe. Yaoi (male x male). Goten x Trunks and vice versa. Other pairings.

Barracks

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by quatreofdoom

Part 58

The bar was located a few blocks away from the spaceship station. First, they had walked through the underground passage, then resurfaced at the local public transport station. After that, it had taken them ten more minutes on foot to reach the bar. There was nothing exceptional about the outside of the bar. The inside was dimly lit but one could see that it was quite a shabby establishment, the peculiar acidic smell of something decomposing permeating the room. The soft, enthusiastic musical background reminded Goten of those old patriotic movies where Humans were shown winning wars over hordes of foes. They didn’t have much of a clientele, and the five Humans who were present seemed to be quite suspicious. The bar’s name sounded very common – Two Dragons, Three Friends, or Two Shields, or something of a similar manner, and it had already slipped Goten’s mind. The third-class presumed that the security agents had discovered this place during an arrest.

It served mostly strong drinks and when Goten asked if he could get some food, he was offered some kind of salted nuts. After looking at them in their worn bowl, Goten guessed that it was the nuts that were giving off that acidic smell. He refused politely. Reyn, though, had no problems ordering a large pot of coffee. The flight officer would have preferred something much stronger but figured that, due to the recent stress and weariness, he would simply pass out or, worse, beat someone up.

The three of them settled at the far corner of the bar, away from the door. Areno’s eyes went wide when Reyn started going through his wallet. He knew the higher class was rich, but it was something to behold when one could see their whole year’s pay in cash. And it was obviously meant only for everyday expenses.

“No, we didn’t rob a bank,” Goten said, easily guessing what the second-class was thinking when his wide eyes kept following Reyn’s wallet. In fact, Goten was also walking around with quite a large sum of cash. The amount was nowhere close to Reyn’s, but Goten felt unsafe carrying it around and wanted to transfer it back into his account as soon as possible before he lost or someone stole it.

Areno grinned. “Then what did you rob, Sir?”

Goten was about to offer a smartass comment including the national budget but then Reyn shook his head. “Nothing,” he said. “We are moving, so we withdrew some cash.”

Areno slurped at his beer and shrugged. It was stupid to travel with such an amount of cash but it wasn’t his business. He watched Goten unpin the medal from his uniform and turn it around in his hands curiously. There was the medal’s title and the name of Vegeta-sei on the front side. The reverse had the royal symbol. It bore no engraved name of an honored person. After a few moments of inspection, Goten pocketed the medal.

“Already bored with it?” Reyn asked. He lowered his head to look at his own shiny triangle piece of metal dangling on his chest. “Seriously, I’d have never thought I’d get a medal.”

Goten hummed quietly. “You could probably sell it and buy that sofa that you liked so much.”

Reyn gave him an insulted look and scratched at the medal with his fingernails. “I’ll never sell it. We did deserve them. Besides, I’ve got enough money to buy that sofa anyway.”

Goten rolled his eyes. “Show-off.” Maybe they had deserved these medals and maybe they had not. He wondered about that. Slowly, he sipped his beer. Despite his suspicions, the beer tasted passable. Apathetically, he stared at the froth clinging to the walls of the mug. If not for those weird dreams, he’d have never known what to do. Did having those dreams deserve an award? Kakarott had done most of the job and everything else had been a string of lucky coincidences. As per usual. It was incredible to what extent they had been lucky with how the whole situation had been resolved. So lucky that it was both amusing and scary. And, instead of explaining anything, Kakarott had done a runner. In fact, even more questions had accumulated. ‘Give regards to your father’, Goten repeated Prince Vegeta’s words in his head. Next time he saw Kakarott, “regards” was not going to cut it. Damn bastard.

“It would be a pity to sell it, Sir,” Areno told Goten carefully after hesitating for a few moments. Frankly, he was appalled at the blasphemous idea of irresponsibly giving something away that had been gifted by the crown prince himself. Areno, though, wasn’t certain he was entitled to give an opinion.

“Oh, right, that,” Goten grunted, raising his eyes off the mug. “Why do you keep calling us that? We don’t rank higher than you.” He grew confused when, after his words, Areno kept staring at him.

“Err…” the second-class blinked uncertainly. “But… Excuse me for saying so, Sirs, but I think that by this time everyone has figured out that you are elites working under cover.”

“Say what?” Goten managed dumbly while Reyn nearly choked on his coffee. It was clear now why the agents’ attitude had changed towards them so much and why Berlington had released them so quickly. Goten felt like face palming.

“I don’t want to pry, Sirs,” Areno continued, “but it is also the first time I’ve seen repainted tails. Does it happen often? I can’t imagine it being…comfortable. Not to mention…well…embarrassing?”

Goten’s tail tightened around his waist protectively. It was no wonder that the agents had come to this conclusion – it was impossible for a second-class to stand up to a Leiador of such a caliber as the one in the conference hall; even the royal guards had been outmatched.

Amazing. Goten was impressed at the way he had figuratively climbed the social ladder. First, a second-class, now an elite. It was convenient as well. However, the problem was that pretending to be an elite was a treason punishable by death. Goten slurped some more of his beer moodily and reached out to ruffle through the fur on the tip of his tail. The idea itself of painting his tail seemed to be absurd.

“No, it doesn’t happen often,” Goten said. “Very rarely, to tell you the truth. It’s preposterous for an elite to mix with commoners.” He heard Reyn snort into his coffee. It was probably best, though, that they kept this illusion about them than try and explain the impossible – they weren’t going to stay on Bruminan for much longer anyway.

“Of course, Sir.”

“You stink of shit,” Reyn informed the other third-class after a few moments of uncomfortable silence.

Goten glared at him. “So do you!”

Reyn shook his head. “No, not that, I mean you stink of cat shit.”

“Oh.” Goten lifted the front of his jacket and sniffed at his clothes. Uncertainly, he sniffed again. It was faint but it was somewhere there. Wondering, he pushed his chair back and took a look at himself. If anything, it had to be the trousers since he had taken his jacket off while washing Mr. Elite. Yet he couldn’t see anything on the blue material.

“It’s probably your boots.”

Goten raised his feet into the air and had to scrunch his nose – he had clearly stepped in something. “Why in the world didn’t you tell me sooner?” Goten grunted out miserably. “There I stood in front of Prince Vegeta stinking like a pile of shit!”

“Well…” Reyn drawled. “This war is a shitty situation in itself, so I don’t think he minded.”

“Screw you,” Goten muttered stubbornly, taking one more gulp from his mug.

“Is Reyn Dueri here?”

Everyone turned to the door where a Saiyan had appeared. The soft music continued to play in the background while everyone in the bar kept staring at the visitor quietly. It was a National Security agent. When no one answered, the agent repeated the question, louder this time.

“Maybe?” Goten answered vaguely.

The agent’s eyes set on him but Goten had unclipped the National Security card from his chest as soon as he had escaped the conference hall.

“Is it you?”

“Hmm… Could be me,” Goten agreed. “Or could not be.”

“You got a call from Eiyan Dueri,” the agent said, looking at Goten, ignoring his words. “He says to call him back immediately.”

“Oh, fucking great,” Reyn cursed with a roll of his eyes. “The news must have spread; some phone drama to look forward to. Can’t he just keep experimenting on crops or something, that senile bastard?”

“Is that your father?” Goten wondered after the long tirade. Except for one or two times, Reyn didn’t talk about his father. Up until now, Goten hadn’t even known his name. He seemed to be a source of aggravation for the flight officer.

“Thanks,” Goten said with a nod at the agent’s back; he was already marching out of the door.

“Is there a place I can make a call?” Reyn asked Areno. The second-class motioned at the bar, and Reyn shook his head. “No, a call that would not cost me half a year’s pay.”

Areno stood up. “There’s a post office near the station, Sir. They’ve got terminals there. You’ll still have to pay a certain fee, Sir.”

Reyn nodded, and the two of them walked away. Goten was left alone at the table with their half-finished drinks but, as usual, he was alone not for long. His invigorating plans to take a short nap in the corner alongside the wall were thwarted by Raidri, whose shift had ended just a few minutes ago. If he was disappointed that he had just missed Reyn and Areno, he didn’t show it. He went to get a tumbler of beer and settled opposite Goten comfortably. The third-class had a feeling that, bit by bit, as the sleeping hours drew closer, more people were going to gather.

“To you and Reyn, Sir!” he said raising the tumbler to salute Goten. He lifted the beer to his mouth and inhaled half of it at once.

“Um, thanks,” Goten agreed, impressed by the sight.

“That was the first time I saw a Leiador die so fast, Sir!” Raidri said excitedly, lowering his tumbler back onto the table with a loud thud. “Most remarkable!”

Goten answered the compliment meant for Reyn with an amiable smile and toasted Raidri back with his empty mug. “So what about the conference?” he asked. “Are they going to reschedule it or cancel it altogether?”

Raidri gave a rather curious look to Goten. “Sir, I don’t think we can afford to cancel at this stage, can we?”

“I suppose not,” Goten agreed. “It’s tomorrow then, isn’t it?” he ventured a guess.

The security agent nodded. “Same time, same place, Sir. They are repairing the wall now.”

“Splendid,” Goten muttered darkly. He wasn’t even certain why he suddenly felt helpless. He was probably just too tired. The other man gave him a questioning look but Goten answered it with an uncertain shrug.

“More beer, Sir?” Raidri suggested when Goten tapped his empty mug. “My treat, Sir.”

Goten moved his hand away from the mug; he had not even been aware that he had been touching it. “No, thank you. One more sip and I’ll be down under the table.” All he wanted now was to wash off the stench and go to bed. He doubted that was going to happen any time soon, though.

“Tired?” Raidri asked sympathetically.

Goten nodded.

Confused, Goten blinked at Reyn, who was bent towards him. “Uhh…” Goten rubbed at his face blinking while Reyn sat down at his side. He looked around the bar. “I nodded off, didn’t I?”

“More like ‘slipped into a coma’,” the flight officer said. “I’ve been trying to wake you up for nearly a minute.”

“Ah.” Goten shifted in his seat, reclining. “Where are those two?” he asked when he noticed that it was only him and Reyn at the table.

“Areno went to order something, and Raidri is in the toilets.”

Goten felt like he was going to fall asleep again, and shook his head, yawning, trying to ease the irresistible pull at least a little bit. “So what did he want?”

Reyn frowned at once. “The usual,” he spat. “He bitched and moaned an awful lot about me leaving the ship and coming here without informing him. Then he kept on whining and complaining about you.”

“Why?”

“He is certain that we’ll kill each other. And it was his own stupid coworkers that put us together on Starcut in the first place!”

“Did he confirm that?”

“Um, no. I don’t think anyone told him. Well, who else? I bet it was some nice experiment for them! Those shits!”

Goten shrugged. At this moment he didn’t even care about those conspiring bastards. He leaned his head against the wall.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, just tired. Can barely keep my eyes open.”

“My shoulder is probably softer than that wall.”

Goten opened one eye to give said shoulder an evaluating look. “Hardly. And you look no less haggard than I feel.”

Reyn agreed to the words with one last sip from his already empty coffee mug. He spat the coffee granules back into the mug. He felt Goten pat his shoulder in a testing manner, then the other third-class’s head thumped against him.

“We make such a cute couple,” Reyn couldn’t help chuckling. Fondly, he patted the back of Goten’s head.

“Fuck off and keep still.”

ooOoOoOoo

Half-asleep, they had managed to stagger to their room somehow. Goten had been ready to beat into a pulp all those who would stand between him and his bed. Curiously, there was no one besieging their room, there was no one present in the corridor at all. Goten stared at Reyn, who was going through his pockets in search of the keycard.

“Faster,” he moaned impatiently. He was going to sleep for a week. No, two!

The door finally opened and Goten half-fell and half-swam into the room. He dove into the first soft thing that entered his vision, which happened to be the carpet. The third-class hugged it lovingly and claimed it as his forever.

“Are you really alright?” Reyn wondered at the peculiar sight.

Nearly asleep, the younger third-class rubbed his cheek against the carpet. “No, but I will be after a day’s rest.”

“Goten.”

Even if not intended for him, the voice commanded Reyn’s whole presence. Alarmed, he raised his head to look deeper into the room. They had been too tired to take notice of the dim lights that had already been on when they entered. A purple-haired man was sitting on the chair in the corner, next to the window. The man rose slowly and Reyn tensed up. The blue-eyed gaze slid past Reyn not really taking him in and concentrated on Goten still sprawled on the carpet.

Reyn found Goten’s reaction to the purple-haired man, to put it mildly, strange. He seemed to be stunned at first, then shot to his feet so fast that he fell over again. Just before he flopped over, the expression on his face had started to turn into something Reyn had never seen before.

“Sir?” the third-class mumbled, clumsily getting to his feet. “Your Highness,” he corrected himself quickly.

Approaching, the prince threw a quick look at Reyn. “‘Sir’ will do just fine.”

“Sir, what are you doing here?”

The question was absolutely valid and made sense and, while waiting for Goten to show up, the prince had asked himself the same exact question at least ten times. It had only made him angry. “You need to ask?” he snorted. “You disappear from Starcut and then, voila – you’re a national hero!”

“Oh, that. Pure luck, Sir,” Goten said convincingly. He patted his pocket with the medal, then patted it again just to make sure the medal was still there; it was. Then, he pulled it out of his pocket and proffered it to the prince for inspection. “I got a medal,” he said, proud.

“Good for you,” the prince spat. “You seem to have a knack for saving princes. I think this is the third time already? You can make this your occupation.”

Stuffing the medal back into his pocket, Goten gave him a bright smile. “You think so, Sir? Would it pay well?”

“Stop this crap this instant!” the prince ordered, suddenly enraged.

“Sir?” Reyn tried to pacify the man, not certain what the exchange was about. “Let’s calm down here, shall we?”

“Well, what the hell do you want me to say?” Goten hissed back at the prince.

“The truth!” The stormy blue eyes bore into Goten’s, then he turned to Reyn. “Could you leave us for a moment? Sir?” he added, glancing at the flight officer’s shoulders.

Reyn turned to Goten, who met his eyes uncertainly then gave a hardly discernible nod. Reyn grunted in disbelief. “Where the hell am I supposed to go?” he muttered, walking back to the door.

Goten looked guilty and lost, and the prince took pity on both of them: “To the lobby?” he offered. “They are watching football there.”

Reyn turned around to give him a look. Then he nodded. “What the hell is ‘football’ anyway?” he muttered, slamming the door shut.

“Fucking hell,” Goten said, flopping onto the nearest bed. He covered his face with his hands. That, however, didn’t make the prince in front of him disappear. “Why are you here?”

“You’re as respectful to your superiors as ever” the prince said sarcastically.

Goten moved his hands away from his face and opened his mouth with the intention of telling the prince to finally decide whether he was his superior officer or his… At that point, his thought broke off and Goten giggled hysterically. He stared at the prince’s surprised face for a few moments then sighed.

The prince was much more real than Goten remembered him. There was something painful about him being so real. He wore his beloved jeans and the black denim jacket. His hair had become considerably longer and it was obvious that the prince was growing it back out – he was going to pull it into a ponytail as he used to. He carried no guns and wore no jewelry. There was no indication that he was the second heir to the throne of Vegeta-sei. The white tip of his tail, though, was demonstratively on display.

The third-class rubbed at his temples, trying to ease the horrible headache behind his eyes. Reyn knew now. The flight officer was no fool and had it all figured out. Goten felt both terrified and relieved.

“I think we need to talk, Goten.”

Goten shivered at the way his name rolled off the prince’s tongue. “Must it be now, Sir?” he said with a soft groan. “I’m dead tired. My head’s bursting and I can’t think.”

The prince ignored Goten’s complaints. He leaned against the wall opposite Goten’s bed. “Dueri,” he said, motioning at the door with his head, “what’s he to you?”

“Ah, shit,” Goten said, his headache intensifying tenfold. In the past, he had believed that if he met the prince later, it would all be different. He would be wiser, more experienced, and more self-confident. He would just be more of everything than he was back then. He couldn’t have been more wrong.

“Well?” the prince demanded impatiently. He already knew the answer. Furious, he waited for Goten to spit it out.

“My boyfriend,” Goten said obediently, not quite daring to look into the lavender-haired man’s eyes.

The prince looked around for something to launch at the third-class. And that was after all the effort he had put into making sure this brainless idiot didn’t forget him, after all the meaningful conversations, after all attempts to make it clear that…that…he had to wait for him! The prince’s finger’s wrapped around the wall sconce but the absurd end of the sentence in his head made him falter. He turned back to Goten, who was staring at the light fixture apprehensively. When it stayed attached to the wall, Goten’s attention concentrated back on him.

The prince was thinking, his angry eyes keeping Goten hostage. Without the prince noticing, his fingers were rapping onto the metallic base of the wall sconce. While waiting for Goten to return to the hotel room, he had looked around. He had seen about a month’s food supplies, and he had also discovered a cat which, despite all of his suspicions and interpretations, appeared to be nothing more than a common cat. He had also found the cookbook. It was still there, amongst Goten’s very few belongings. And it looked worn, the inscription page strewn with fatty and dirty fingerprints.

He knew it all, all Goten’s fears and insecurities. He knew them all because he had exactly the same fears and insecurities. And what he did not know, he could presume.

“I am not going to let go of you,” the prince said, finally.

With a loud groan, Goten flopped onto his back, the bed giving a painful wooden shriek. “You’re insane,” he said. “I’m a fucking third-class, you’re a fucking prince of the fucking Empire, and we’re in the fucking middle of a fucking war! None of that has changed!”

“You do have a way with words,” the prince complimented him with a snicker. He crossed his arms, settling his back more comfortably against the wall. The wisest solution was to retreat, and yet, he was not going to give any of them the satisfaction. Not Goten, not to this damn Reyn, not to himself. To no one, to absolutely no one. Goten was going nowhere. “So nothing has changed except for you getting a boyfriend,” he concluded, watching Goten.

The third-class gave the ceiling a disbelieving look. “I can’t believe we’re even discussing this.”

“You’d better believe it.”

“And what the fuck are you gonna do?!” Goten growled at him, sitting up, flailing his arms about. “Introduce me to everyone as your third-class fuck-buddy and then watch it all collapse around us? Or will you be hiding me in your toilets until we get bored and tired of each other? What the hell is wrong with you?!”

The prince was taken aback by the vehement string of harshly truthful words and his face turned red in helpless anger. This was not how he had imagined his reunion with Goten. This was not what he had expected to hear. Even if it was no surprise and he did know that the third-class had always thought something along those lines, he had not expected Goten to voice it all. Instead, he had foolishly hoped that the third-class would be so happy about seeing him that he would be at a loss for words. As if. Goten was flinging words left and right. Hurtful words, at that. And he had been looking forward to so many possibilities, to so many opportunities before coming to Bruminan.

“You did keep the cookbook,” the prince said softly after the silence had lasted for quite a while, Goten just staring at him accusingly.

“Shit.” Goten rolled his eyes upwards as if expecting to receive some kind of divine help from the ceiling. “Stop it. I thought about it long and…and very long and it won’t work. Let’s just leave it at that.”

“Yeah?” The prince shook his head. “I know it’s not going to be easy but I refuse to give up. I wanted to take you to Earth. There…”

“You’re insane,” Goten repeated, interrupting him. “We are in the middle of a war and even if we weren’t, it’s just…insane!”

“It’s one of the possibilities.”

“There are no possibilities!” Goten yelled at him, his suddenly shrill voice echoing through the room. “None!”

“Do you like him?”

The prince was aware of the effort it took the other man not to tell him to go fuck himself. Goten had pressed his lips together and just stared at him, agitated. He had missed pissing Goten off. The problem was that this was not the thing he wanted Goten to be pissed about.

“Yes, I do,” Goten said finally. “I said that already during that call.”

“Do you like him more than me?”

“Fuck you!” Goten exploded, grabbing and throwing a pillow from the bed at the prince. “Why are you doing this?!” Panting in agitation, he suddenly didn’t know which he wanted more: to strangle this damn lunatic or to press him to the wall and fuck him senseless.

The pillow hit the prince in the face but he paid it no attention, his stormy, blue eyes concentrated on the third-class. His skin felt hot under Goten’s gaze and he knew perfectly well the thoughts that were whirling in the third-class’s head. And then the spell was broken, Goten lowering his eyes and turning his head slightly aside.

“I’m not going to leave him,” Goten said softly.

The prince stared at him quietly, then turned and started walking towards the door. “We’ll see,” he said, opening it.

“Don’t you dare!” Goten shouted after him but the only answer he got was the door slamming shut.

ooOoOoOoo

So that was Goten’s elite.

Reyn saluted the purple-haired man, who was passing the reception. It seemed that whatever Goten and he had wanted to discuss had been discussed. The man, though, seemed to be disgruntled and acknowledged him with a curt nod. On the other hand, Reyn hadn’t even expected to be acknowledged. He watched two bulky elites leave their seats at the TV and follow him outside. The bodyguards.

From the details that Goten had given about his hypothetical boyfriends, he had been under the impression that one had to be an important elite, but a prince, the youngest Vegeta of Vegeta House...? Everything just had to be complicated with Goten, complicated to an impossible level. How did he even manage to catch the prince’s attention? Maybe it wasn’t such a big mystery anymore as to how and why Prince Vegeta knew Goten.

Huffing in annoyance, Reyn set off back to the hotel room. Goten was full of shit and the situation was simply absurd. He was angry with Goten, angry to the point that he was going to sock him once or twice and yet…

Those damn hypothetical boyfriends had turned out to be more real than he would have ever suspected. And he had never demanded Goten give up and forgot them, he had only insisted that he might have forgotten them by the time they met again. That turned out to be a big, fat lie.

The room was empty when Reyn entered but he could hear the sound of the shower coming from the bathroom. He locked the door, stepped forward and tripped over a pillow on the floor. Cursing, he stood up and reached out for the switch to increase the light. Tossing the pillow back onto the bed where it belonged, the flight officer looked around. It was dark outside and he went to close the blinds even though he was almost certain that the window pane was made of glass that was impossible to see through from the outside. The yellow, decorative curtains seemed to be useless against the light and Reyn just left them at that. Then, trying not to think about the mussed up bed or mysteriously airborne pillows, he sat down on the free bed and waited.

Goten was taking too long.

When Reyn entered the bathroom, he was taken aback by the sight before him: Goten was half-sitting and half-lying in the shower, a blue puddle spreading underneath his naked and unmoving body. The water was spraying around him, the air steamed up, the mirror next to the shower covered in dew.

Forcefully, Reyn had to remind himself that Saiyan blood was red and not blue. He shook off the initial affright and rushed to Goten’s side to rouse him.

“Mnn?”

“Don’t sleep here, you idiot.”

Goten raised his head to give the flight officer a sleepy yawn. He was warm and comfortable. “Mnnyy?”

“What the hell is this thing?” Reyn grunted when the blue color underneath Goten intensified. He pushed the other third-class sideways to discover the source of the dye. It was an overflowing jar of something that his scouter identified to be Moon Bath Salts. Reyn shoved it to the farthest corner of the shower so that the water didn’t reach it.

“Meow!”

“Oh, shut up,” Reyn said to Mr. Elite, who was staring at him from the towel that had been swaddled around the heater to make a warm and soft cat bed. The cat seemed to be dry already. “I’ve got other things to do.” He turned the shower off and grabbed one of the towels from the rack. He somehow managed to lift and swaddle Goten into it without stumbling and falling into the shower.

Goten was trying to be cooperative from what Reyn could see and yet the younger third-class nearly ripped the bathroom door off when his towel got caught on the doorknob. Finally, Reyn got them to their mutilated bed. Goten fell asleep as soon as he was laid horizontally. Reyn cursed a few times then went to turn the lights off. He shed his uniform, then thought for a moment, and ended up settling into the same bed as Goten; Kakarott’s mussed up bed or Almanda’s abandoned air mattress didn’t seem to be appealing at all.

ooOoOoOoo

Goten woke up barely in time. He shot out of bed, took a second or two to remember where he was, then launched himself towards the bathroom. Reyn grimaced at the sound of retching and covered his head with the duvet.

“Meow.”

Something fell onto the duvet and Reyn pushed it off his head to meet Mr. Elite’s fluffy backside. The cat turned around, sniffed at his face, then meowed again.

Reyn sighed. “Hungry, aren’t you?” He turned to the window but, with the blinds down, it was impossible to tell what time of day it was. Besides, it was not as if he knew the planet’s rhythm. Yet it seemed like light was trying to seep through the blinds.

He fed the cat and went to check on Goten, whose prolonged stay in the bathroom was worrying. He found the other third-class sitting next to the porcelain throne. Goten had put a towel underneath his behind so that the cold tiles didn’t freeze his ass off. He had also wrapped himself in a bigger towel and poured himself a cup of water. The cup was obviously meant for storing toothbrushes but Reyn doubted that Goten knew or cared. The younger man looked pale and sick.

“I’m sorry,” Goten muttered, pressing the cup with the cold water to his forehead.

Reyn stared at him for a few moments, then sighed. “You’re worse than a pregnant female,” he said, sitting down next to Goten.

Goten chuckled weakly. “I’m really sorry,” he repeated. He flinched when Reyn’s hand settled onto his back. He tensed but it only drew a few soothing circles then stayed there, supporting him. That made Goten feel even guiltier. He’d have preferred Reyn hitting him over this.

Goten hadn’t believed that they would meet again. He had hoped to, of course, had imagined it happen in his wildest dreams but hadn’t believed it really would. Those had just been harmless fantasies.

And yet they met. Unlike Goten had feared, they hadn’t turned out to be enemies either. However, the reunion went horribly wrong. All of what Goten could remember now seemed like a staged play – it was as if the two of them had been trapped in one of those large domed squares that Humans so loved. A bull and a performer with a red cape – that was what the two of them had turned out to be.

It was all so stupid. He was already regretting so many things that he had said to the prince. He had told the truth but…should have been kinder, should have found different words. He had really been happy to see the prince. Terrified too, but mostly happy. And yet his words had been offensive, cruel. On the other hand, it was probably for the best. Was it possible to convey what he wanted to convey in any other way?

Goten wasn’t meeting his eyes. Reyn patted his back again. He could presume what Goten was thinking, and it wasn’t as if he couldn’t understand the reason. It pissed him off, of course, and yet he could understand.

The younger male’s face frowned in discomfort and he bent over the toilet again. Uncertain, Reyn watched him for a few moments then left the bathroom. Pushing the cat off the duvet, he slipped back into the warm bed; he had checked the clock and it was still early. They should have left the hotel room before those reporters besieged them again but with Goten like that, it was impossible.

At some point, he became vaguely aware of the bed moving when Goten joined him, then fell asleep again.

ooOoOoOoo

They woke up to something crashing somewhere.

“Lights!”

“That won’t work,” Reyn muttered, turning to his side, trying to spot the source of the noise.

Disoriented, Goten blinked at the dark room. Right. He was on Bruminan, in their hotel room.

“It’s that stupid cat,” Reyn said, having found the problem. “He pushed the lamp off the desk.”

“Meow.”

After discovering that the previously useless bodies were animated again, the cat jumped off the desk and to the floor, then jumped onto their bed.

“He’s probably hungry again,” Reyn decided when Mr. Elite let out another demanding meow.

“Where does he put all that food?” Goten grunted in disbelief.

“In the same place where you put yours. The toilet,” the flight officer clarified. He got up and, with the cat in tow, went to the bags of food that were stored in the wardrobe. He found the bag with the cat’s food, fished out a roast chicken leg and lowered it into the ashtray that they were using as a bowl for the cat. Mr. Elite tore into the chicken as if he hadn’t been fed for days.

Reyn headed to the bathroom, then returned and went to the window. “How do you feel?” he asked, opening the blinds. The light flooded the room.

Goten snuggled deeper into the bedding. “Better.”

“Good,” Reyn said, returning to the bed. He took his scouter from the bedside cabinet and checked the time. It was nearly eleven in the morning. Wondering what they were supposed to do now, he sat down on the bed. They had no orders to follow but they had to somehow return to Starcut. Gods only knew how all of this was going to turn out. They had followed the “orders” that Goten’s friend from National Security issued and it was very likely that, by this time, it was clear that they had been forged. Now it depended on National Security to sort it out. He had told him not to, but his father might create quite a commotion and try to separate the two of them.

Goten’s arms wrapped around the older male’s bare back and chest, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“Mmm?” Reyn hummed when he felt Goten’s chin rest on his left shoulder. It was rare for Goten to be so affectionate. It was pleasant to feel the warmth spreading from Goten’s body into his.

“What time is it?”

“Eleven.”

Goten muttered something, his breath tickling Reyn’s ear. The younger man hugged him firmer and suddenly all Reyn was capable of thinking was that Goten was completely naked under the duvet. He ran his palm along Goten’s left arm. Goten’s lips pressed to his shoulder to leave a damp spot there, then moved to the side of his neck.

Not letting go of Goten’s arm, Reyn turned around and toppled them onto the bedding. He pushed the duvet away and his hand slipped in between them to grasp Goten. He was already at half-mast. He stroked lightly, making Goten squirm underneath him. Reyn lowered his head with the intention to kiss Goten but the younger male pushed at his chest lightly, not letting their lips meet.

“Better not,” he said. “Unless you want to taste yesterday’s vomit.”

The flight officer rolled his eyes, yet was grateful for the warning. He continued to stroke Goten while the younger man just lay on his back and watched him. After a few moments, Goten’s left hand settled on his shoulder, the other slipping south. It brushed past Reyn’s hand, slipped into his underwear, and seized the hardening cock there. He gave it a few strokes, trying to adjust to the older man’s rhythm, but it was uncomfortable and Reyn moved aside to slip out of his underwear. Goten’s palm wrapped around Reyn’s jutting length again and started pumping it. The flight officer returned to his task as well and they set up a very comfortable pace.

Lightheaded, Goten closed his eyes. His fingers were gripping the older man’s shoulder firmly, nails leaving crescent marks. He could feel heat spreading all over his body quickly, though mostly around his cock and the upper part of his chest, close to his neck. He hummed softly in pleasure and a warning – he was about to come. Reyn’s hand slowed down a little. It felt frustrating for a few moments, then Goten’s body adjusted to the slower rhythm.

There was desperation in Goten’s hold on him, in the way his unsatisfied body strained against his. Reyn refused to care. Goten had opened his eyes again but was avoiding looking at him, his dazed stare directed somewhere above his shoulder.

This was a bit of payback.

Yet, Reyn could not prolong this even if he wanted – he was about to come as well; Goten was stroking him faster in hopes of receiving the same treatment. Disengaging himself from Goten’s hands, Reyn leaned away and kneeled in between the younger man’s legs. He continued stroking Goten for a few seconds, then brushed over the oozing slit with his other hand. After wetting his digits, he slipped them in between Goten’s buttocks. At the feeling of them slipping inside, Goten’s mouth fell open in a soft gasp. He was coming the next second, his body clamping down onto the invasive fingers. Reyn’s fingers were forcefully massaging his prostate and Goten kept coming for a while. Finally, he relaxed into the bedding, opening his eyes to give the flight officer a foolishly satisfied grin.

During his orgasm, Goten had spread his legs wider. Reyn’s fingers were still moving inside him and it felt nice. Reyn, though, was obviously far from comfortable: his red swollen cock was straining against his stomach, drooling with precome.

Goten raised himself up onto his elbows and Reyn’s fingers slipped out of him. With his legs at Reyn’s sides, Goten sat up. Figuring out what Goten intended to do, Reyn shifted closer to him so that his cock was at about the same level as the younger man’s face.

“Shit,” Reyn muttered when Goten’s mouth engulfed the head of his penis. Goten’s skill at oral was hardly passable but it felt like the best blowjob of his life – Reyn was too far gone and it only took a few clumsy licks and sucks and he was coming. Goten managed to move his head aside in time but not before getting a shot on his chest.

With a loud, content huff, Reyn flopped next to Goten. The younger man shifted closer to him, their shoulders and arms touching. Goten lazily groped around the bed but the only suitable object he discovered was Reyn’s underwear. Deciding it was good enough, he started wiping his chest and stomach.

The sexual satisfaction was quickly giving way to uncertainty. Reyn was annoyed. He realized that he might have taken advantage of the younger male, but he didn’t feel guilty in the least. Goten was too obvious with the way he was acting. This was hardly about their relationship, it was more about Goten clinging to something known, something familiar. The third-class was holding onto his sense of security, his last shred of sense.

“Is he a fucking idiot?” Reyn gritted out finally, his patience snapping. “What business does he have chasing a third-class? Is this his idea of a joke? And you? What the fuck do you think you’re doing, messing around with a damn Vegeta?”

Goten closed his eyes; he had been dreading this conversation. Reyn was right. Of course, he was right. Even the prince would think he was right if he heard him.

“I told him to forget it,” Goten said after a spell of silence. “Nothing will come out of it.”

“I gather he wasn’t happy about it,” Reyn grunted, remembering the prince’s discontent face just before he left the hotel.

Goten’s lips twitched. “That’s putting it mildly,” he said, fighting the stupidly worried grin off his face; he simply didn’t know how to react to their confrontation. “He said something about…” Goten trailed off. It was probably unwise to tell Reyn what exactly the prince had said. Reyn could be quite vindictive and the last thing they needed was Reyn confronting the prince over something he had foolishly said in the heat of a fight. That would not end well at all.

“So what did he say?” Reyn asked impatiently.

“Umm… He said he would think about it.”

Reyn sputtered in disbelief. “That’s one insane fucker.”

“Well, I did tell you that he is quite selfish.”

“He’s not selfish, he’s just plain stupid! Wait till Prince Vegeta finds out. And did you tell him how it ended for your brother?”

Goten flinched. “Ugh.”

Reyn rubbed at his face with his hands in frustration; he knew he was being mean now. “Ah, shit, sorry.”

“It’s fine. You’re right.”

In silence, they lay in the bed and stared at the ceiling. “Let’s leave here,” Reyn suggested suddenly. “Let’s leave as soon as possible.”

“How? Where to?”

“To Starcut, of course. Ask your friend to transfer us back.”

Goten shook his head. “I can’t do that. It’s very likely that I’ve already gotten him in trouble for sending us here. And I’m not even sure if we’re still friends. He found out that I’m a third-class, remember?”

Reyn cursed softly.

TBC