A/N: Hiya, this is a multichapter Gohan x Piccolo Yaoi story, there will be graphic sex scenes and so on, this is set after the Cell saga and Gohan is in Highschool (17 years old). As for Piccolo's gender he is hermaphroditic as Akira Toriyama himself has suggested nameks are, not asexual.

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Ball Z or its characters, rights belong to Akira Toriyama, and I make no money or profit from fanfiction.

Apples

Chapter 1: Prologue

Piccolo's first act of kindness had been giving Son Gohan two sour, red apples.

Piccolo found that he missed he crashing noises of the waterfall and constant rumblings and singing of life in the forest he used to reside in, no longer did the chirps and rustles of nature reach his sensitive ears as his mind slowly returned to the reality around him, sitting cross legged floating by the thundering water he would end his meditation. Now there was only calm, occasionally he would hear Dende or Mr Popo bustling about, usually the genie treating his plants, and sometimes he would sense the fluttering of butterfly wings near him in his training, but other than those same repetitive trinkets, his presence was untouched.

It wasn't just the lookout that was calm, but the world as well, as much as Piccolo loved the peace and quiet, he felt out of place in a world that didn't need saving, it wasn't like he was anything other than a fighter, he didn't have obligations that the others had, not to friends or families, jobs or hobbies. Piccolo just trained, waiting for the next time his efforts would be needed.

It wasn't like Piccolo had any regrets past his youth, ever since he had joined with the z senshi he had lived day to day as honourably as he could, he wouldn't let himself be anything less than respectful, that was the least he owed the boy that had saved his soul and heart. Piccolo would be the best person he could be for Gohan.

Those apples were the first in a long line of arguably stupid but undeniably caring acts he would commit helping, teaching and saving the boy.

The Namek had never felt more alive than on that day; the day he died. He's felt purpose, he's felt drive beyond any whisper of revenge his sire had passed onto him, old priorities dead and buried the moment the boy was in danger, and the boy had done him proud; taking his own place in the fight, braving his first real battle, and then his endeavours on Planet Namek.

Yes, 'proud' was the word. Piccolo felt his chest swell indescribably when he saw Gohan stand his ground, when those dark eyes took that warrior's fire, but Piccolo also felt that warmth when the boy showed his manners and gentility, how someone who today is the strongest warrior on earth could be so kind and humble had Piccolo give a small smile.

Gohan wasn't the little boy anymore though, Piccolo almost couldn't believe how the demi-saiyajin had grown, it had happened almost overnight how the young man's height had rocketed, no longer up to Piccolo's waist but now slightly taller than his father had been, his muscles bulkier and his jaw stronger, he had long since lost his baby fat; Gohan was a man now.

Piccolo somewhat missed Gohan when he was little, not that he didn't still feel for the 17 year old, it was their situation he missed, how Gohan would fuss over him and constantly want to 'bother' him with questions and his company, whereas recently there was none of that, the teenager was engrossed in his studies, his training came mainly from teaching his little brother Goten whom had apparently shown great talent even so young, and on the few times Gohan would visit him they would train for a while and have what felt like strained small talk.

For the past month Gohan hadn't visited once, over the last year or so the appearances from the teen had gone down drastically but every couple of weeks had become the norm for a while, now there was nothing. Had Piccolo done something wrong? The Namek hoped not, he'd hate to think he had upset or deterred his friend but he had behaved as he always had, so he doubted it.

The more likely reason was that the boy was older and didn't need Piccolo anymore. A simple, admittedly sad, reason. The boy had friends at school, he would most likely want to spend time with them able to enjoy the entertainments of the cities rather than with him, the sour faced Namek who couldn't so much as enter a martial arts tournament without drawing a curious and distasteful crowd. The boy was moving on, becoming a man and making his path, Piccolo swallowed for some reason as he thought about this, a pressure in his chest he couldn't name coming to his attention, Gohan's path didn't seem to include Piccolo anymore.

Gohan is Piccolo's entire world, all the good in his world anyway, Gohan was, and is, Piccolo's everything whether he would admit it aloud or not.

Gohan was destined for love and securities, community and happy endings. Piccolo was not. Piccolo was a continuing reserve, meditating for the day he need awake again and stand against new foes. Then the feeling returned with intensity, the feeling that turned out his stomach and squeezed his heart, made his nerves tense and his eyes sting, Piccolo wasn't an idiot, he knew what it was. He was lonely, an emotion he was well acquainted with since his birth, they were practically inseparable.

But it was okay, really, it was. Not that anyone was about to ask if it was...but...Piccolo just knew that the pain of being alone was worth it knowing that once upon a time, he, Piccolo Daimao, meant something good, meant something, to somebody like Gohan.

It was all okay.

Gohan sat with his head resting on one hand with his elbow propped on the table, there was a bustle and colourful blur of people in the background during the school lunch hour, the teen sat across from his friend Sharpener, the blonde male chatting with Erasa who sat to Gohan's side and Videl was off somewhere most likely having received a call asking for her help. The demi-saiyajin wasn't really listening, he sighed quietly, unnoticed by the blondes, and looked down at his almost finished lunch.

Tanned, powerful hands reached for the remaining edible item and held the red flesh to his lips, biting with a crunch and tasting the juices as they rolled over his tongue and kissed his lips. The teen chewed his mouthful slowly, feeling each crumble and squish. Gohan's dark eyes looked over the curve of the apple in his hand and a thumb ran firmly over the blushed skin, swallowing the fruity mush the teen's tongue searched his mouth for remains of the delicious treat and eventually licked his lips tasting juices that were present there.

A scarlet streak graced the student's cheeks and he was thankful for his friends' oblivious nature, a heated face and neck made him mentally strike himself with how easily distracted he was, how a simple apple could transport his mind to that fantasy world. How his chest would ache and his extremities throb, his ears would pulse and his hands tighten. But most of all, how despite himself, he would think of his dearest friend...and hunger...

...and it had all started with those apples...

A/N: so what do you think? Please review x