Hello, I'm rather new to the Dragon Ball Z fandom, but I really wanted to give writing this a shot! Especially since I really enjoy Piccolo x Gohan.

The story itself runs on a monthly basis - so basically the month of April is chapter one, and so on and so forth, so chapter length is gonna vary (unless there's a month that is incredibly short, in which case it might be combined)

Please, enjoy, and let me know what you think!

April 3rd, Sunday.

When Gohan first moved into his own apartment, he'd been understandably nervous. The first day or so he'd unpacked, so he'd been busy enough. But once he'd managed to place his meager furniture and decorations, there'd come the unavoidable sense of discomfort and stillness. There was no Goten or Trunks stampeding through the hallways, no Chi Chi pounding on his bedroom door, and none of the visitors that were always at his mother's house for some reason.

And of course, there was the distinct lack of wildlife—and, if he was honest with himself, he missed peeking out his bedroom window just to spy Piccolo underneath a tree, waiting for Gohan to awaken. There was always bustle and people and things to do. Here in his apartment, Gohan finally understood the term 'idle hands'.

He had his school work—but it was all relatively easy. His mother's obsession with his education while he was younger had certainly paid off in some ways, yet now there was absolutely nothing to do. Not even a weak in and Gohan felt as if he was already prepared to crack, and go crawling back to Chi Chi. She'd been supportive enough of him moving out, but he felt as if he asked to come back, she wouldn't deny his request.

Glum now, he stared miserably at a few posters he'd smacked on the wall. Originally it had seemed amazing to go plastering up posters of his favorite anime, video games, and movies. But all he could think about was how many questions Goten and Trunks would ask, his mother's disapproval, and Piccolo's wrinkled nose as he looked at the 'pointless human things'.

"I'm pathetic," Gohan groaned, slinging his arm over his eyes. Shifting his head to the side, he looked at the clock perched on his TV stand. It blinked out the numbers—12:00pm. On a Sunday. No school, no homework, and absolutely nothing to do.

Shoving his hand into his pocket, Gohan attempted to text Videl, but he received no response. As far as he knew, she was on a camping trip with her father, something about training. Honestly, Gohan had no idea what they could possibly be doing. She insisted her father truly was a martial arts master—it just wasn't fair to compare him to aliens and Super Saiyans.

He'd hoped she'd at least be able to have breaks and be able to respond, though it was looking as if that would not be the case. Hell, if her phone had died, Gohan wasn't even sure she'd be able to charge it. Completely defeated, he let the device fall from his hand, thudding sharply against the carpet. Relaxing fully against the carpet, he debated actually getting around to setting up his game consoles… It just seemed like such a good chunk of work…

He'd nodded off. Rubbing at his eyes, Gohan glanced at the clock once more. 4:00pm. He arched his back, feeling his muscles tighten. Dozing off on the floor hadn't been one of his brightest ideas—but considering he'd also slept on the ground for a good chunk of his life, he supposed he could deal.

Smacking his lips and rubbing at his eyes, Gohan pushed upwards to his feet, still attempting to stretch all the stiffness out of him. Deciding it was a lost cause, rubbed at his sleep-mussed hair and looked around. Outside he could still see the sun coming in bright and warm.

Gohan bent down, scooping up his phone and hurriedly checking it—of course no response from Videl. He almost envied her right now. Tomorrow he'd be back in school, bored out of his skull. Especially with her absence weighing heavily on him, since the two shared a few classes at Orange Star University (he hadn't told Videl at the time, but he'd been secretly happy that the name hadn't been changed after the Cell Games).

His stomach growled, and he cast it a weary glance. He supposed he could run down the road, and grab something at the local burger joint. The thought brought an appreciative rumble to his stomach, so Gohan decided to oblige. Snatching up his keys, Gohan headed down the road. It was a quick walk, and he ignored the dirty look the cashier gave him when he ordered five burgers and two large fries. Deciding he'd get it to go (really he did not like the way workers were glaring at him), he slurped his drink as he stuffed the bag of food in the crook of his arm.

The apartment complex he'd chosen was rather nice, as far as he was concerned. It was in a good part of town, meaning he could walk to school instead of fly. Another perk being that it was near several restaurants and convenience stores. There was also the privacy of the apartments. Each one in the complex was its own separate building, with no upstairs neighbors to worry about. His particular unit was on the back part of the complex, faced away, and tucked into a corner.

He supposed that was how his new visitor had managed to sustain his position for so long.

For right on Gohan's doorstep, was another than the Demon King Piccolo.

"P-Piccolo!" Gohan was rather mad at himself for how un-cool this whole thing was. Here he was, desperate for human contact, with Dr. Pepper dribbling down his chin and a greasy fast food bag shoved in his armpit. He fumbled for a moment, desperately trying to wipe soda from his mouth. He glanced at Piccolo, who remained calm as always.

The alien had been sitting there calmly, legs crossed while he apparently meditated outside of Gohan's door. Dark eyes had watched Gohan's little episode, all the while rising up to his full height. He'd smirked just the slightest bit, and Gohan shifted his feet just a bit, wishing he were that composed.

"I mean… I'm really glad to see you but… I wasn't expecting company…" Gohan mumbled that last bit, guilty eyes treading to his food.

"I can see that." Piccolo's voice was deep, rumbling, and it made Gohan painfully homesick. "Regardless, your mother sent me here." He then bent down, picking up a plastic bag that had been on the stoop beside him. "Your mother sent over a few things you forgot. She wanted to bring it herself, but the Ox King's car was unavailable." This was all said calmly, and in such a matter-of-fact tone, that Gohan had to stifle some bitterness.

IT wasn't fair, really, to expect his mother to brave any costs to come see her son, nor was it realistic to imagine Piccolo breaking down and proclaiming how much everyone missed Gohan—him included. It had only been a few days, after all. Everyone probably assumed he wanted space and time to settle in.

He wanted neither of those things.

And seeing Piccolo was just a heavy reminder of it all.

"Wow… Thanks Piccolo… Though… Why were you with my mom?" Gohan thought about that detail of the story, and watched with mild amusement as Piccolo pulled a face. The Namek looked so comically displeased that it was fantastic.

"I was sparring with Goten and Trunks," came the reply, followed shortly by a disdainful sniff. "The woman cornered me and demanded I bring her 'precious baby' his things." At that, Piccolo smirked, watching as Gohan flushed, before snatching the bag out of Piccolo's hands.

"You're a jerk, Piccolo," he grumbled, digging into his pocket for his keys. Dredging them out, he saw that Piccolo was already preparing to leave. "W-Wait!" Gohan yelped, turning around quickly and dropping his keys. He stepped on them before he even noticed they'd hit the floor.

But Piccolo had waited, and Gohan was focusing entirely on that.

"I just… I mean... I could share my food with you?" The proposition was weak, and stupid. He cursed himself internally. There was no way Piccolo would accept that! They both knew damn good and well that Piccolo rarely ate. Despite him having functioning taste buds, the only time Gohan really saw him eat was when Chi Chi was offering.

"Fine."

Gohan jumped, staring blankly at his former mentor. Piccolo was meeting his gaze, and Gohan was dumbfounded. He hadn't expected a positive response, and was thus thoroughly confused. Mouth agape, he stuttered out something no doubt stupid, while Piccolo merely moved forward, gesturing with his hand for Gohan to open the door.

Seemingly remembering what he was supposed to be doing, Gohan shifted his drink cup once more and picked his keys up from the ground. He shook the dirt off of them, and jammed them into the lock. Once open, he hastily shuffled inside, holding open the door as Piccolo followed.

Gohan shut and locked the door, then rocketed over to the coffee table. He slapped the cup and bag down, watching nervously as Piccolo regarded his surroundings. The Namek gave his usual bemused look to the posters, eyes roaming over the room besides that. Then his gaze landed on the cup.

"Your mother says drinks need coasters."

The statement was so bland and colorless, that Gohan just blinked. He wasn't entirely sure whether to laugh or take the words as a suggestion. Opting out of answering at all, Gohan perched on the edge of the couch, patting the pillow next to him.

Piccolo looked disdainful for just a moment, before he decided to comply. Gohan bit his lip at how ridiculous the alien looked, large frame sitting rather uncomfortably on Gohan's second-hand couch. The thing was huge and ugly, with old school floral pattern, but his mother had dredged it out of the attic. Couldn't argue with free stuff.

But Piccolo sitting on it was never something he'd imagined. The alien seemed to sense his lingering gaze however, and quickly snarled at Gohan. He ducked his head then—more to hide his laughter than actual fear of the Namek—and opened the fast food bag. Dragging out a carton of fries, he proffered the food to Piccolo.

Piccolo held up one hand, dismissing the offer. Gohan shrugged, and started stuffing food in his mouth. His companion decided to pointedly look away, though he did strike up a conversation.

"I didn't agree to have food." Each word throbbed in the air, rumbling through the air and couch to where Gohan could practically feel Piccolo talking. "I merely noticed that something was bothering you." An eyebrow ridge went up, and the alien actually dared to look at him. "Though you seem happy enough, now."

Gohan gulped, looking guiltily down at the sack of food. He played with a fry for just a moment, then popped it into his mouth. A shrug followed. He didn't really know what to say to Piccolo. Instead he mulled over his words, which he supposed was alright, considering his visitor didn't argue against the silence.

Finally, he spoke.

"It's just… I know it's rather pathetic… But I've been alone all week and its starting to bother me. There was always so much to do and so many people at mom's house that I just…" Gohan's voice trailed off, and he shook his head. "Sorry. I know it's stupid." More fries entered his mouth, hoping to stifle his voice with sustenance.

Piccolo made a noncommittal noise, but Gohan noticed that he had also relaxed. The alien had reclined back on the sofa, green arms contrasting horribly with the floral print. Gohan did find himself watching though, as if fascinated. He saw the way that Piccolo poised himself, obviously unused to 'sinking' in when he sat down. So the alien was desperately trying to keep his back straight whilst laying back against the pillows. It was… It was almost cute….

Gohan grunted, choking on his fries. When Piccolo cast him a curious glance, Gohan waved the look away, shaking his head as he did so. He decided he'd had enough fries (and enough of those thoughts) so he switched to one of the burgers. Unwrapping it, he began focusing on that.

He didn't know what the hell was going on in his mind if he'd just called Piccolo 'cute', but he was certain that if the Namek were to ever catch wind of what had just gone through his mind, no Super Saiyan transformations would save him.

"If you are lonely, I'm certain your mother and Dende would not oppose to you visiting them." Piccolo spoke up. Gohan gave a weird, lop-sided shrug, finally deeming it safe to actually face his friend again. Turning his head, he drummed one set of fingers on the outside of the bun.

"I know. It just seems silly… To already be needy." Gohan felt embarrassed to be divulging this to someone who'd spent their first years of life completely alone. It seemed to be such a bratty thing to do, and Gohan wasn't sure how to precede. He finished the first burger, licked his fingers clean, and opened another. That seemed to be the appropriate amount of time for Piccolo to muster up a response.

"You are unaccustomed to such a life." Piccolo was shrugging his shoulders, looking towards the window, where the sun was finally setting. "I think it's a human thing—to be lonely." Gohan watched the green alien's profile, watching as the dying sun lit up each sharp angle of his face.

"I doubt that," Gohan said, hands dropping to his lap, ignoring the burger held between them. Piccolo turned to him, one jutting cheekbone and pointed ear still caught in the light. He stared at those while he spoke. "I know for a fact Dende gets lonely… and I'm sure you do, too. Mister Piccolo."

He stated that last bit with emphasis, and watched as his friend's eyes widened just a fraction. The Namek didn't say anything, his lips pulling into something that Gohan could swear was a pout.

Definitely a pout, Gohan thought, observing the huffily crossed arms, pursed lips, and downcast eyes. He couldn't stop himself from smiling, to which Piccolo glared angrily at him.

"Brat." The reply was childish, and Piccolo knew it. There was no venom or creativity to it, and Gohan decided that meant he'd won. Chuckling, just a bit, he lifted the burger back to his mouth. He managed to finish the last of his food, before Piccolo spoke again.

By now the apartment was dark, the sun set long ago. Neither had bothered to actually get up and turn any lights on, preferring to sit in the gloom instead. Gohan had been too focused on eating, and the rather large body next to him, while Piccolo had just deemed it unnecessary.

But now Piccolo was speaking, so Gohan focused on him.

"It has gotten dark." Piccolo rose slowly, and Gohan tried to hide the disappointment on his face. Of course Piccolo had to go. He couldn't expect the warrior to drop come at his beck and call. Shaking off the negative feelings, Gohan stood as well.

"Have a good night, Piccolo," Gohan said, attempting to keep his voice as chipper as possible. However, the Namek gave him an odd look, opening the front door as he peered over his shoulder weights at Gohan's smaller frame.

"You too, kid." It was brief and sincere, causing Gohan to beam a real smile towards the Namek. He fought back the urge to just keep coming up with corny good-byes, and focused instead of waving as Piccolo ascended upwards. There were no backwards glances or return waves, but Gohan was still smiling regardless.

Turning back inside, he threw away his trash, and went to bed.

Monday 4th, 2:30pm

Gohan's day had been rather uneventful. School had been rather routine, with no new assignments yet. That was always a plus. Of course, he had an essay due next week over the book they'd read in class, but it would be simple. He debated actually flying to his mother's, but he'd quickly vetoed that. He'd shown weakness last night to Piccolo, and thus he needed to overcome it. Training—he would call it that. Training to be an independent adult. After all, if he were to ever grow accustomed to living on his own, he couldn't just go flying off to his mother every time he felt lonely.

So, fully prepared to spend the day by himself, he'd marched straight home.

Just to find Piccolo at his doorstep yet again.

Gohan was just as startled today as he was yesterday, though luckily he didn't have food and drink today. Piccolo once again rose to his feet, watching Gohan as he did so. The demi-Saiyan shuffled his feet in place, fingers clutching at the strap of his backpack.

"Did mom send you with more stuff?" Gohan asked, despite the fact that he saw no plastic bag this time. As he suspected, Piccolo shook his head 'no'. Awkwardly, Gohan nodded, and took a few steps forward, dragging out his keys. Plugging them in, he twisted the doorknob, and entered his apartment, Piccolo a few steps behind him.

Gohan felt as if he were in a surreal state of mind, watching as Piccolo strode forward easily, and took his seat upon Gohan's couch. The alien was still doing his awkward, stiffened back pose. Gohan took pity on him, kicked the front door shut behind him, and strode to the couch.

"Piccolo," he smiled, watching as the gaze rolled to him. "That's not how you sit on a couch." Ignoring the hilariously angry face the Namekian gave him, Gohan placed on knee on the couch, and bent towards his companion. He placed one hand on Piccolo's stomach, pushing slightly as he did so. Underneath the gi, he felt muscles shift, as if contracting away from Gohan's touch.

"Relax," Gohan commanded, pushing softly with his fingers. "Just… dip your stomach in more, and loosen up your spine." Piccolo grunted something that Gohan assumed was obscene, but he eventually complied once Gohan gave another rather insistent press of fingers.

A noise escaped the Namek's mouth, which sounded suspiciously like contentment. Gohan smiled, looking up to Piccolo's face. This was the closest he'd been to Piccolo's face since he'd been a child, and Gohan found himself being reminded of how much he'd actually missed it. Memories of flinging himself around Piccolo's neck rushed to him.

For some reason Gohan wanted to relive them.

He decided it would be best to not do such a thing, and as such reclined back on the sofa, a whole seat cushion away from Piccolo. The alien stayed where he was, saying nothing as he—Gohan almost hated to apply this to Piccolo but—'chilled' on the sofa. Despite the racing curiosity, Gohan decided it was best not to ask Piccolo's motives for appearing today.

Soaking in the relaxing silence, Gohan decided that today he would set up his video game consoles.

April 5th, Tuesday

Piccolo didn't show up, but Gohan was able to reflect easily on the fond memories of last night. He'd struggled to reach behind the TV and color coordinate the plugs, while the alien had laughed about it. Gohan—thoroughly frustrated—eventually cracked, laughed, and smacked his head rather roughly on the corner of the TV.

April 6th, Wednesday

One missed call from an unknown number.

Until he listened to the voicemail and found out it was Videl. She'd be back in town by Friday.

Gohan had smiled.

Then Piccolo had appeared at his door, bearing Tupperware of Chi Chi's cooking.

Piccolo had denied Gohan's proposition to share the food, and had also denied Gohan's suspicions about Piccolo having already eaten some on the way there. (Gohan was pretty sure he head—after all, there was no way his mother had purposefully sent him half a bowl of rice—honestly who did Piccolo think he was fooling?)

Piccolo stayed until three in the morning.

And Gohan's heart had sped up at the implications.

April 7th, Thursday.

Gohan awoke, groggy as he rubbed desperately at his eyes, attempting to form some semblance of coherency. He didn't know what possessed him to think that he could actually stay up that late, and still manage to wake up in time for class. Groaning, he realized he'd already missed his first class.

Miserably, he stumbled from bed, and hobbled into the kitchen. His haphazard method of pouring cereal achieved nothing but a mess all over the countertop. Numb to all the mayhem he was causing, Gohan dug a spoon into his bowl, and reflected on the source of his sleepiness.

He didn't know why Piccolo's visits were still happening, almost a whole week later, or why the alien had decided to stay for as long as he did. While Gohan wasn't about to complain, he also couldn't comprehend what was going on. Perhaps Piccolo was simply bored?

Sighing, Gohan finished his breakfast, and finally took note of the mess he'd made prior to. With a hefty groan, he'd snatched up a few paper towels, and busied himself with the mess. While he cleaned, he still couldn't stop thinking about what was happening with Piccolo. It was very unlike the alien to pay visits—both in quantity and quality.

Hours. Piccolo had stayed hours. Even then the alien had only left because he said that Dende had begun to worry. The little Guardian had never known Piccolo to be gone so late from the Lookout. Gohan had said that he'd understood, and saw Piccolo out. He wouldn't admit that his face heated up a bit as he watched Piccolo throw a small smile back when he flew away.

It was at that point that Gohan had actually noticed the time, and was genuinely ready to punch himself in the face for his neglectfulness.

But, thanks to Piccolo's company, he'd finally set up his games. Not that he'd actually gotten to play any of them, as he'd let slip that he had a paper due. That had spawned a series of questions from the Namek, to which Gohan had heartily answered to. The conversation had been so silly and boring that Gohan couldn't even remember half of it—but he remembered enjoying it.

Rubbing at his temples, Gohan decided that he really needed to get going for the day.

April 8th, Friday

Videl returned home in a blaze of glory. She'd landed her chopper in his apartment's parking lot, strode up to his door, and had banged heartily on it. When he opened it he half expected her fist to hit his face. Blinking owlishly down at her, he laughed when she jerked him into a rather crushing hug.

"I missed you, jackass," she said, swiping her short bangs off to the side. He rolled his eyes at her antics, taking note of her newly found tan. Videl noticed him looking, and flexed her arms. "I got the old man's genes in me—we tan like crazy. Him even more so!"

"How was the trip?" Gohan asked, leaning one shoulder against the door jam. He listened to Videl's explosive stories—which was nothing but wild arm movements and rather vivid displays of her and her father's moves. He laughed, appreciative of her dynamic personality.

She finally finished, however, and posted up her fists against her hips.

"Now enough about me! I never got to see this apartment put together! What have you been up to, anyways?" Gohan moved then, inviting her inside. She eagerly jumped inside, twisting her head this way and that, observing everything in the room. He told her the less pathetic version of events—that he'd just moved in and was feeling just the teensiest bit homesick, and that Piccolo had been visiting.

Videl lifted her eyebrows at that, before flopping down on the couch. "Really, Piccolo?" she said, especially incredulous after his recount of actually missing class ("Damn Gohan, you turned into a bad boy while I was gone!" she'd exclaimed).

"Yeah, it is pretty weird for Piccolo," he murmured, pinching his chin between his thumb and forefinger. He cocked his head to the side. "I've decided not to question it, really." Gohan shrugged then, seating himself on the couch beside her.

"Is he going to come by today?" Videl asked, scooping the remote up off of the coffee table. He hummed slightly, before shaking his head.

"No, probably not. The past few times he's come, he's been here before I get out of school," Gohan explained. He shook his head. "I don't know why he comes, though. I'm honestly worried that if I try asking, he'll just be all 'shut it, kid' and stop coming!"

Videl laughed at Gohan's imitation of Piccolo's voice, shaking her head as she did so.

"You're both idiots, I feel like."

"Yes, but unfortunately you're actually friends with this one!"

"God, help me," Videl murmured, casting pleading eyes up to the heavens.

April 20th, Wednesday

Piccolo had been by almost every night. There would be a few that were hit or miss, but Gohan's initial deductions with Videl were correct. If Piccolo was not at the stoop when Gohan got home, then he wasn't going to be there for the day. He was honestly surprised that no neighbors had caught sight of the green alien—he wasn't exactly inconspicuous.

No one had complained yet, though, and so Gohan was fully prepared to just run with it.

Gohan was exiting his last class of the day, when he got a text from Videl. He read it quickly ('got the stuff yo') and stuffed is phone back in his pocket. He cast his gaze around the campus, finally catching sight of a familiar, short crop of black hair, next to a tree.

She looked up when approached her, and she proffered him a rather cat-like grin.

"Do you always have to send texts like you're a drug dealer?" Gohan demanded, crossing his arms. Videl laughed, head tossing back as she did so. But, as soon as she had done that, she turned deadly serious, eyes narrowing as she stared up at him.

"Gohan… How do you know what drug dealers text like?"

"I do weed in my spare time, y'know." Gohan rolled his eyes. Videl was sputtering with laughter now, though, staring at Gohan as if he'd grown a second head. He returned the look with gusto, not understanding Videl's reaction. It hadn't been that funny…

"Did you just say you do weed?" she demanded, slapping a hand against her knee. "Hoo-boy that is just too good! Gohan, you are something else, you little fucking nerd." Gohan glared at that comment, wrinkling his nose up just the tiniest bit. Videl ignored that, and instead drew a key out of her pocket.

She grabbed Gohan's wrist, and jerked his hand up to her. There she pressed the key into his palm, meeting his eyes with a solemn stare.

"Now, Gohan..." Videl looked back to the key. "This is a big step in a relationship. Some couples feel stressed once they begin sharing a home and—"

Gohan clenched his fingers around the key and jerked back away from her, face flushing as he did so.

"You big jerk! I just figure Piccolo is tired of sitting on the stoop!" He stuffed the key in his pocket, ignoring his highly amused friends. Videl just seemed to get a kick out of messing with Gohan, and deep down he knew there would never be a way to stop it.

"Come on, he's practically your big green boyfriend," she teased, poking him in the rib. Gohan swatted her hand away, for all extensive purposes pouting as he glared at nothing in particular. Videl really knew how to press some buttons.

"Very funny, Videl. Now, thank-you for getting the key made, and teaching me proper terminology for recreational drugs." He gave her a curt nod, ignoring her snort of 'nerd' that came from underneath her breath. She seemed satisfied, however, and allowed him to go, giving him a quick wave as he went.

"Oh Gohan!" Videl called suddenly, as he was halfway across the quad. "Say hi to your Jolly Green Hubby for me!"

Gohan felt mortification sinking in, his face flushing red as his peers all turned to look at him. Ducking his head quickly, Gohan took off running, sending Videl a rather meaningful text—he even made sure to load it words he didn't normally use, just to sum up how he felt about that. Honestly!

He relaxed his pace, though, the closer he go to the apartment. Biting his lip, he pushed his hand into his pocket, fingers prodding at the key. When he'd first come up with the idea of Piccolo having his own key, he'd of course been stumped. Seeing as they lived in the middle of nowhere, he had had to accustom himself to locking doors. He and his mother had practiced the month before he moved, just to get him in the habit of doing so.

Thus, he hadn't known where to actually get keys. But, once Videl had heard his idea, she'd immediately offered to get the key made for him. She'd waved away the money he'd offered, assuring him of how cheap it was, then took off on her own to get it done. He figured it would be a nice thing to give Piccolo. That, and it would lessen Gohan's worry of eviction due to the rather large alien that was always hovering around.

While he personally didn't find anything wrong with Piccolo's appearance, he knew the other denizens of Earth would certainly disagree with his outlook on the Demon King. Sighing, Gohan dipped his head upwards, looking to the clouds.

He was thinking of Videl's words. The girl was thoroughly convinced that he and Piccolo had something going on—or at the very least that Gohan wanted something to happen. Her deductive reasoning was always spot on, and thus Gohan got very uncomfortable whenever she mentioned that in particular. After all, the only person second to her in that respect was Piccolo.

If he was displaying outward signs of attraction even when Piccolo wasn't around, he was certainly worried to what he was showing the alien face to face. But he couldn't really help that.

With Piccolo around all the time, Gohan had begun paying attention to the tiny details. Like the way Piccolo clicked to sharp claws together when he was thinking, or the thoughtful hums he produced when he ran out of words. There was also the way that Piccolo looked at him—so deep and penetrating, that Gohan, when he met the gaze, would instantly feel a thrum of affection run through him.

And then there was Piccolo's voice. Long hours of exposure to it had not lessened the effect—merely amplified it. Every time Gohan was in the alien's presence he merely awaited what he would say. Piccolo wasn't a scholar like Gohan, yet their intelligence was on par with one another. Piccolo just happened to be more ignorant of higher education.

Groaning, Gohan rubbed one hand across his face, scrubbing desperately at it. While part of him knew that spending this much time with Piccolo probably wasn't a good idea with his growing feelings, he also knew that he couldn't send the alien away. Outside of… other…reasons, Gohan was also still lonely.

He had decided to wait til month's end to visit his mother up in the mountains. In fact, he was counting down the days for when he would fly up there, feeling the wind in his hair… That brought him back around, as he realized he'd have to tell Piccolo he'd be visiting his mother on the first of March. He didn't want the alien showing up, just for no one to appear.

While the key would certainly fix the issue of being outside and exposed, it wouldn't really help the fact that Gohan wouldn't appear, and that it would essentially be a wasted trip.

Then Gohan really thought about how thoroughly invested Piccolo was in his life right now. He and his mentor had always been rather close—Gohan just assumed he was more attached. But this was different. Outside of the six months of brutal training, he and Piccolo had never spent so much time alone together. And for some reason his five year old memories didn't seem to compare to what was happening now.

Though, that could just be because he wasn't being punched repeatedly in the face.

Technicalities.

He was at the apartment now, and his smile was overtaking his features, for there was Piccolo. The alien was on the stoop, same as always, legs daintily crossed as he sat in silence. There was always something so extremely peaceful about approaching Piccolo in this state, and Gohan almost regretted interrupting him.

Piccolo heard him approaching, though, and untangled his legs, rising up to greet Gohan. Looking up into his companion's face, Gohan withdrew the key, proffering it up to Piccolo. All he got was a hard stare in return.

"It's a key," Gohan explained, arching an eyebrow.

Piccolo sneered. "Child, I know what a key is."

"Ok, well it's a key for you." He watched as Piccolo's face crinkled up, nose wrinkling and brows furrowing together. It was adorable, really, and Gohan felt his heart thumping at the sight. God, if Videl was here she'd tease him mercilessly for the sappy look he was giving the alien.

Piccolo finally seemed to respond, and picked the finger from Gohan's palm. The boy watched avidly as the gentle sensation of Piccolo's claws scraping against his skin gave him the slightest thrill. To think he was so enamored over the mere tips of his friend's fingers!

"Thank-you, Gohan…" Piccolo's voice trailed off, and he was staring intently at the key. Gohan smiled, watching the curious gaze.

"Well, go ahead and test it out!" Gohan cheered, pumping one fist, attempting to regain normalcy once more. He amped up his enthusiasm, and was rather grateful for the exasperated look that Piccolo gave him. But, the alien was complying, and Gohan watched with adoration as Piccolo inserted the key, fighting to turn it in the lock.

Piccolo stumbled into the apartment, jerking the key from its slot, before depositing it in the pocket of his gi. Gohan followed behind him, watching as Piccolo took hesitant steps forward.

"Now you can come in anytime—so you won't be waiting on the stoop." He beamed up at the alien, and kicked the door to a close behind him.

Piccolo made a rather huffy noise, glaring. "You are making the assumption that I will continue to be here!"

Gohan rolled his eyes. "Ok, Piccolo, whatever you say. Oh! Speaking of your visits, on the first, I'm going to go visit my mother…" His voice trailed off at the last bit, and he felt a strong burst of pride with himself that he was going to manage this. He'd spent such long amounts of time away from his mother before—sure—but it was always with the other Z Senshi as company...

Shaking his head, he turned to see Piccolo, giving an amicable nod.

"That is fine. It will do you good. You've haven't flown in a while, have you?" Gohan shook his head no. "I thought as much. I'm sure you've been neglecting your training as well." Another nod. Piccolo sighed. "I always knew you weren't a fighter at heart, but I thought you'd always keep fighting."

Gohan looked a bit uncomfortable at that, and rubbed at his arms, nervously watching Piccolo.

"It's not that I don't want to train," Gohan admitted, bowing his head just the slightest bit, "but the end result never changes. I haven't gotten stronger—I've plateaued, you could say. It's just frustrating—I don't remember my father or Vegeta ever hitting such a point!"

Piccolo hummed thoughtfully, inclining his head. "I understand your frustrations, Gohan. For the longest time, I too had hit my limit." A large green hand rose upwards, and Piccolo flexed the fingers, staring dismally down at his palm. "It's a horrendous feeling—knowing that no matter what I did I would never be on the Saiyans level."

Gohan felt a bit numb to what was being said. He'd always known it, but the admission aloud was something else entirely. Especially from Piccolo. Certainly the Namek had become more accustomed to addressing his feelings once he'd had to train Goten and Trunks, but that didn't mean he went around dishing out whole plates of information at a time, especially not when it focused on his own weaknesses or short-comings.

"From time to time I still struggle with it." Piccolo shrugged, looking distinctly uncomfortable at this point. Gohan decided not to prod any further, and simply nodded, heading towards the couch. His friend followed, swiping his cape aside so as to not sit on it.

"Why don't you take off your weighted gear?" Gohan suggested, tilting his head to the side. Piccolo blinked a few times, not quite answering. "I mean—if we're just hanging around in my apartment, it seems a bit silly, Piccolo!"

"That's rich coming from Saiyaman," Piccolo sneered, crossing his arms as he shot Gohan a rather nasty look. The boy returned it with a laugh however, and shifted his arm up in front of Piccolo's face. He pointed to the watch clasped firmly about his wrist, tapping it with his index finger.

"Ah ah ah, Piccolo! Keep that up and the Defender of the City just might have to make an appearance!" Gohan was enthusiastic now. He didn't often get to don his Saiyaman costume anymore, but he was always certain to keep it on him. He knew Videl kept hers too.

"Please don't," Piccolo actually looked comical, his face stretching in mock-horror as his eyes latched onto Gohan's wristband. Gohan erupted further into laughter, thoroughly pleased at Piccolo's expression. He did oblige, however, and sat back, turning on the TV as he did so. Beside him, Piccolo wrinkled up his nose, and folded up his legs, hovering over the cushions in his meditative pose.

Beside him, Gohan stared, and smiled.

April 21st, Thursday

Today, when Gohan got home, he saw no Piccolo on the stoop. Whenever he opened his door, however, Piccolo was there, his turban and cape nowhere in sight as he hovered over Gohan's couch. Upon Gohan's entrance, Piccolo opened one eye, his antennae twitching curiously towards his companion.

Gohan tried to deny how adorable that simple motion was, and he certainly denied that he was staring at the broad shoulders that were now bared to him.

Nope, he certainly was not.

April 25th, Monday

Piccolo hadn't been by for the past few days, but Gohan had actually found himself enjoying Videl's company. She had hung around the apartment sometimes, and other times they ate out. One night, Videl took him bowling—she'd beaten him on a sheer technicality that he'd thrown the ball just a bit too hard and may or may not have completely demolished a wall.

He'd apologized profusely to the manager, and Videl had paid for the damages. The embarrassment he suffered was horrendous. Though, Videl said the amount of laughter she'd had was payment enough, really. Despite this, he'd bought her dinner for the next two nights, and offered to continue to do so in the unforeseeable future.

But now it was Monday, and he was only five days away from his visit to his mother. He smiled fondly at the thought, and busied himself with that on the walk home. Once he reached his apartment, he opened the door, and shut the door behind him.

"Good evening." Piccolo was back, apparently, and Gohan felt his mouth dry. The alien was in the kitchen, plates out across the countertop and an opened Tupperware container was beside him. Gohan dropped his backpack at the doorway, and, mind numb, wandered into the kitchen.

He muttered something in return, but he didn't really remember what. He was too busy staring at Piccolo, long, thin fingers portioning out food onto plates, antennae moving in minute movements. Gohan felt his mouth dry up, and he approached Piccolo.

"Your mother sent food," the alien said simply, looking up from his task to lock gazes with Gohan. Gulping, Gohan nodded dully, trying not to think about how much he enjoyed the sight of his friend in the kitchen. There was something captivating about it—the simple domestic task—that really, really, really (turned him on) made him happy.

Piccolo was holding a plate out towards him, obviously, and Gohan tried not to look at the curious movements of Piccolo's antennae. He tried really hard.

"Wow, I'm so happy mom sent food!" Gohan enthused, attempting to distract himself with the meal. Piccolo gave a slight hum, the two moving to the dining table. Seating himself, Gohan watched, mouth agape with food already in it, as Piccolo lowered himself to the seat. Then the Namek was eating, dainty bites of foods entering his mouth, and Gohan forgot he was supposed to be eating.

Until Piccolo spoke again. "Your mother makes good food," the Namek said simply, sampling another bite. Gohan made a guttural noise at the back of his throat. "I told her you would be visiting, by the way. She's rather excited."

Gohan gulped, and went back to his eating. "I am too."

"I'd imagine so."

Their conversation ended, and Gohan allowed it. Sitting in silence with Piccolo wasn't nearly as oppressive as sitting in silence by himself. The atmosphere was still and quiet, allowing Gohan to stare at his food bowl without consequence. He couldn't bring his attention up to Piccolo—just couldn't.

Eventually Piccolo finished his meal, and took both he and Gohan's plate (well in Gohan's case plates plural) to the sink. Gohan went back into the living room, pulling out his laptop. Preparing to type his paper, he nestled back, and opened up Word. Piccolo had entered the living room once more, and was seated on the couch.

"I think sometime soon we should train together, Gohan." Piccolo's voice was deep, and Gohan hummed in response, already typing away. "Sitting on this couch and stuffing yourself with fast food can't possibly be healthy."

"It's not healthy to sling toddlers against the side of a mountain either, but you still did that," Gohan teased, already typing as he nibbled a bit at his lip. He heard Piccolo huff beside him, and Gohan decided he liked this witty banter. "Anyways, who are you to talk? You're going to get and old and fat, sitting around my apartment eating my mother's food."

Piccolo snarled at him, to which Gohan could only laugh. His mentor really took bait far too easily sometimes.

"For such an obnoxious scholar, you seem to have forgotten quite a few facts about my people," Piccolo rumbled, actually going so far as to lean back, and cross his legs. Gohan paused in his typing, staring as the legs overlapped one another, sliding against each other. The baggy gi hid the form, but the simple possibility made his mouth dry and—when was the last time he'd masturbated?

Flushing, he shook his head like a wet dog, ignoring the odd look Piccolo gave him. "Well you haven't exactly been the most helpful with all of that knowledge," Gohan grumbled, tapping away at his laptop. The Namek hummed in response.

"All that I know of my people comes from the old bat and pompous jerk in my head," Piccolo griped, flexing his claws towards his cranium. Each finger tapped thoughtfully against his temple, and he cocked his head. "I suppose if I wanted to no more I could always speak to Dende. Though you could just as easily do the same."

"Hey, you're the one that lives at the Lookout!" Gohan argued, hitting the tab button as he stared, mystified, at the screen. His next section would be particularly difficult—it didn't really match the rhetorical strategy he'd been using and he didn't want the professor to actually notice it. "Though, you spend a good chunk of your time here lately, too," the boy teased, drumming his fingers along the keyboard.

"A certain somebody pitifully begged me to stay around."

Gohan felt his spine tense up at that. He knew Piccolo was just joking, but something about it had hit him on a wrong cord. Attempting his best to deflect it, however, he focused solely on his paper. Piccolo did not try to continue their conversation, and instead seemed to just be quietly taking in all the noises of his companion.

The only time Gohan actually paused was when Videl would shoot him messages. To begin with, she had sent 'hey is bae there?'. While he was exasperated with her persistence on referring to him and his ex-mentor as a couple (really his imagination was enough without her helping it along) he had decided to just let Videl have her way—it made life simpler, he had discovered.

Once he'd replied back to her that had inspired a whole conversation revolving around Videl making lurid insinuations, all of which he denied, adamantly. But she maintained that there was no possible way she could know what sinister acts the two were up to, and thus she could only imagine that they were having 'freaky alien sex'.

Groaning, Gohan slammed his laptop shut, and stuffed it into the bag. This prompted Piccolo to lift an eyebrow of inquiry, and Gohan wiggled his phone between his two fingers.

"Videl is texting me," Gohan explained, eyeballing the device as he said so. There wasn't really the worry of Piccolo actually seeing the messages—he didn't even know if Piccolo could read, but from field experience he would have to say that the alien probably could manage enough to survive.

"Texting?" Piccolo cocked his head to the side, the word sounding foreign on his tongue. Gohan found it absolutely endearing, even going so far as to have to check himself from making an audible 'aww'. Really, he was getting pathetic.

"Yeah. We type out messages, and it's like instant communication," Gohan explained. Piccolo furrowed his brow in confusion.

"So you have a constant source of connection with others?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Then why were you so lonely and bored?" The question was an honest one, and Gohan supposed it made sense to someone like the Namek. Spending his whole life alone had probably warped his sense of actual communication. So, giving the question actual thought, Gohan attempted to pose an answer.

"It's like… Imagine if you and I could telepathically communicate—and I don't mean what you do, Piccolo, I mean full on conversation. But you were all alone in a wasteland for months, and that was the only way we could speak."

"I wouldn't mind that," came Piccolo's reply, and the Namek shrugged, looking unabashed by his blunt answer. Gohan groaned, palming his face as he did so. He certainly hadn't expected that response, though he couldn't bother to actually be surprised. It should have been fairly obvious by the fact that Piccolo had inhabited wastelands for months at a time with no outside contact.

"Ok, never mind," Gohan conceded, waving a hand. "Anyways, a lot of mine is self-inflicted. I'm basically proving that I'm a functioning adult. I don't want to go crying back to my mother simply because I feel a little home-sick."

"I'm sure she wouldn't complain." Piccolo replied easily enough, a lop-sided smirk on his face that made Gohan's heart stutter. He gave an uneasy laugh, checking his newest message, hoping it would cover for his abysmal acting skills. If the alien weren't… well… an alien, then Gohan's secret little crush would've been realized way before now.

Videl certainly thought so, and was of the mind that he should definitely act on it—if anything just to see where it would go. She'd argued that he and Piccolo's friendship was strong enough to withstand something as small as a failed crush. While Gohan believed that Piccolo would be perfectly fine denying Gohan and continuing on with his life, the boy wasn't entirely sure he'd take rejection so well.

Sighing, he stared at the latest bout of name-calling and teasing.

He chanced a look at Piccolo, and decided to do something bold, for once.

Trying to ignore how hideously awkward he was, Gohan pushed against the couch cushions, slotting himself against Piccolo's side. He saw curiosity stain the stoic alien's features, as Piccolo seemed at a loss for what the hell was happening at this moment.

Gohan, however, took it in stride. He held up his phone, and snapped a quick picture. Smiling, he looked to see the end product, and felt his face glow with ill-contained pleasure. On the screen was their picture, Gohan's head resting against Piccolo's ribcage, while the alien's arm cushioned itself hesitantly against Gohan's bicep. While the boy was beaming a smile up at his camera, the Namek's gaze was locked on him, antennae cocked upwards and expression curiously soft.

Fingers clutched tightly at the phone, and Gohan actually debated whether to send it to Videl like he'd originally planned or not. For some reason, seeing that look on Piccolo's face made him want to save the photo and never allow anyone else to see. But in the same sense, he wanted everyone in the world to know that Piccolo had such a face—it was a treasure he both wanted to reserve and blast across the universe, and Gohan didn't know how to feel about that.

And in all his ponderings he never thought to realize that he was still pressed against Piccolo, black tousled hair spilling onto the purple gi. Warmth radiated from the Namek, keeping him calm. It had felt so soothing to reside there, that Gohan hadn't yet thought to move.

(a dim part of his brain fought to register that piccolo hadn't made him move either)

"That's a picture of us," Piccolo said suddenly, the alien's voice rumbled through him, Gohan's spine arching at the force of it. Every hair on the back of his neck stood up in anticipation, and Gohan fought back the goosebumps he felt rising. For Goodness' sake this was ridiculous…

"It is," Gohan's reply was a mumble, essentially, as he really couldn't work up much else. Despite his previous thoughts of harboring the picture, he did send it to Videl. He captioned it 'see, no freaky tentacle sex, you weirdo ;)' but his mood didn't at all resemble such a light-hearted message. Inside he was a mess, and outside he was simply quiet, still leaning heavily against his ex-mentor.

"I've only ever seen old photos," Piccolo was speaking again, and Gohan was thanking the heavens for blessing him with such a voice. "Your mother has a few. That is of much nicer quality." The alien's observations were so bland and practical—but Gohan didn't care.

"Yeah… I really like this picture," Gohan was saying, despite the internal mantra of –shut up shut up shut up shut up!-. A rumble was the only response he got, which he assumed was Piccolo's way of agreeing with something. "Hey, do you mind if I make it the background of my phone?"

"I don't know what that means." The response was even enough, and he felt Piccolo's massive shoulders heave with a shrug. There was a small spark of frustration in Gohan's belly—that Piccolo wouldn't understand the significance of such a thing

(but he didn't understand the significance that he was still laying there)

-though he got over it quickly enough. After all, it wasn't like it was Piccolo's fault, really. Between being the feared Demon King and residing up in the Lookout, he hadn't exactly become accustomed to Earth's every nuance.

Drawing him out of his reverie, he noticed one of Piccolo's fingers tapping at his shoulder. Gohan turned as if in a stupor, to look at the face that was exceptionally closer than normal. Despite the fact that Piccolo was obviously trying to get his attention, he found himself lost for just a moment, staring at the strong neck, sharp jaw line, and jutting nose. An almost irresistible urge to kiss the tip of that nose overtook him and—

Gohan jerked out of Piccolo's lap, his bottom lip caught ferociously between his teeth. The alien gave him an odd look, but was slowly standing up, headed towards the door. With a heavy gulp, the boy leaned against the sofa, eyes warily watching as Piccolo gave him a half-hearted wave, told him to go to sleep, and left.

Crawling into bed, Gohan sighed. So swept up in his passionate replay of the last bit of Piccolo's visit, he forgot that he'd ever even thought of touching himself.

April 26th, Tuesday

Today when Videl awoke him with a text message, Gohan couldn't help the beaming smile that lit his face, for when he unlocked his phone, all he could see was Piccolo.