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Chapter 17: Training Day

For the next several weeks, there wasn't a single thing that could have wiped away the giddy grin from Yamcha's face. Part of him still couldn't believe that he and Piccolo were going to be parents soon – that he was finally going to be a father! He'd never even considered the possibility that they could have a child together. He knew that all Namekians shared the same gender, and that all of them were capable of having a baby, but... he never imagined that a Namekian and a human could have one together. The two of them were so different, it felt like an honest to God miracle that it happened at all.

The news got out almost immediately, much to Piccolo's chagrin. Bulma had come looking for them after she saw them slip out at the masquerade, finding them out on the balcony together. After a teasing cat-call and a comment suggesting they get a room, Yamcha found himself just blurting out what he'd just found out, far too excited by the news to even consider keeping it to himself. Bulma seemed equally elated by the news and, not being the type to keep a secret, she immediately ran back inside and told everyone.

Yamcha did feel a little sorry for Piccolo after that, as he looked as though he would die of utter embarrassment while the others offered their congratulations to the two of them. A source of further dread for him was soon brewing among the women of the group, as tended to happen lately. A plot to 'help' the soon-to-be parents was quickly devised, which was why, some weeks later, the two of them found themselves walking up the pathway leading to Bulma's house.

Their arrival seemed to have been eagerly anticipated, as the front door of the large dome-shaped house swung open even as they were still approaching. Bulma poked her head out, a mischievous grin already plastered across her face.

"Hey guys! Welcome to day one of daddy training camp!" she announced with a small giggle before turning her attention more towards Piccolo specifically. "Wow, busting out the comfy mom clothes already, are we?"

Piccolo's face instantly flushed a deep purple at that, and he quickly averted his gaze to keep from having to stare at that teasing grin of hers. The Namekian had worn a simple dark sweater tucked into a pair of jeans. Honestly, Yamcha himself wasn't dressed much differently, but he was known to wear clothes like that from time to time, where his partner certainly wasn't.

"Look, I'm not about to get all dressed up if I'm just going to be spending all day looking after a seven-month-old and a two-year-old," he explained as casually as he could manage, though it was clear that he was still quite flustered. Bulma decided to go easy on him for once and let it be at that before leading the two of them inside.

Once they entered the living room, they found that Chi Chi was there already, sitting on one of the couches with her infant son held in her lap. Goten merely sat there and stared up at the two men curiously, a bit of drool rolling down his chin. Chi Chi greeted them with a smile, but her eyes soon narrowed in suspicion.

"Hey, aren't you far enough along to be showing at least a little bit now? When are you supposed to be due, anyway?" she practically interrogated Piccolo, scrutinizing his midsection as though she was offended that his waist was so trim. The deep purple blush returned to his face in an instant at being asked such a thing. He was clearly still not used to discussing stuff like that, even with people he knew fairly well.

"I-I'm supposed to have the egg sometime in February, according to Dende..." he managed to stammer out reluctantly. Now Chi Chi looked genuinely offended.

"Hold on! You're due in four months and you still look like that?! What kind of alien voodoo magic are you pulling here?!"

"I'm not pulling anything! You're just looking in the wrong spot!" he retorted, his embarrassed blush now extending to the tips of his ears. Chi Chi's expression shifted to one of mild confusion.

"Uhh... So where am I supposed to be looking?" she asked, arching a single brow at him. Piccolo seemed unable to answer directly, looking away bashfully as he tapped a hand lightly in the center of his chest.

"Y-you're wasting your time looking, anyway... Namekians don't really 'show' when we're pregnant... Not like you humans do…"

Regardless, Chi Chi found herself staring at his chest for a long moment as though trying to discern if he was telling the truth or not. Finally, she seemed to accept it, but not before thinking up one more question.

"Okay, so... If that's where the baby is... How exactly did he get you pregnant? Are we talking blow job, or—"

"Okay, you know what? Anatomy lessons are officially over!" Piccolo interjected forcefully, looking more flustered than any of them had ever seen him. Yamcha himself couldn't help but blush a bit at where that conversation had started to go, now quite grateful that his boyfriend had put an abrupt end to it. Bulma, however, was currently doubled over and laughing so hard it looked like she could barely breathe.

Once the laughter and awkwardness subsided, Bulma and Chi Chi proceeded to give the two of them a quick rundown of what they were expected to do. They were mostly shown how to take care of Goten’s specific needs. He wasn’t exactly a newborn anymore, but he was far closer than Trunks was. Yamcha was surprised at just how little they needed to teach them. Sure, they were taught how to hold him properly, how to feed him, how to change his diaper… but there wasn’t much more than that. All in all, they spent all of fifteen minutes being shown what to do before the two women left the infant in their care and headed for the door.

“Alright, good luck, you two! We’ll be back in a few hours!” Bulma announced with a grin. She then closed the door behind them before the two men could utter any protest. Yamcha could only stare at the back of the door for a long while even after they left, some part of him half-expecting them to come back inside and laugh over it as though they were just kidding about leaving them there. After it was quite clear that Bulma and Chi Chi wouldn’t be back anytime soon, he turned to stare up at Piccolo.

“Why does it feel like they just duped us into babysitting for free?”

“Because that’s exactly what they did…” Piccolo grumbled out through his teeth, his eyes narrowing at the back of the door as though convinced that the two women could feel his scorn at the situation they left them in. Goten merely stared up at the giant alien that was holding him, completely unperturbed by his appearance. The infant then flopped himself down fully against Piccolo’s chest, rubbing his little face against the soft fabric of his sweater, smearing drool and probably snot across it.

“Gross…” Yamcha commented under his breath. Much to his surprise, Piccolo didn’t seem too bothered by it, reacting with little more than a sigh.

“And that’s why I dressed the way I did,” the Namekian replied, still trying to justify his decisions against Bulma’s ‘mom clothes’ comment earlier. “Anyway, you always wanted to be a dad, right? Well, get used to it. This is our life soon.”

Yamcha then watched as Piccolo made his way around to the couch, settling himself down into the cushions and just letting Goten do what he wished within the confines of his arms – which, at the moment, consisted of gumming uselessly at a fold in the alien’s shirt. Yamcha soon joined him in the seat next to him, staring slightly as his lover seemed to have completely accepted the situation that had been thrust upon them.

“So, uhh… You seem pretty calm about all this.”

“Yeah, I got all of my freaking out about the whole ‘becoming parents’ thing in the first few weeks. Nothing to do now but do our best to be prepared.”

“You seem like a complete natural with him, though. You already know what to do and everything.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Piccolo retorted, shooting him a questioning sort of smile. “I seem to remember you being there for the same little tutorial I got.”

“I mean, yeah, but… You’re not phased by any of this. You were just told what to do, and you just do it like it’s no big deal. And here I am, still kinda afraid to even hold Goten. He’s not even that little, and I’m still afraid I might hurt him…”

“That’s just because you’ve never done it before. You’re not used to it.”

Yamcha couldn’t help but stare at Piccolo for a moment upon hearing that.

“So… That means you have?”

A slight hint of purple returned to the Namekian’s cheeks, but he could tell he wasn’t anywhere near as embarrassed by the line of questioning as he was earlier.

“I-I’ve never raised a child before, no… But a Guardian’s duties takes them to unexpected places. At times, Kami would go down to Earth in disguise as a human to rescue lost or abandoned children and take them somewhere safe to be cared for. Sometimes those children were just a few days old, and he learned to care for them in the hours or days it might have taken him to find an appropriate place to leave them. Namekian babies might be a little different, and for that I have Nail’s memories to guide me, but… Well, ours is going to be half-human, after all, so I guess this isn’t entirely a wasted experience.”

Yamcha supposed that made sense, but the sentiment still stood; Piccolo already had way more experience in all this than he did. Hell, he didn’t have any experience in taking care of children. It was all just a dream before, but now that all the little details of what parenthood entailed were starting to pile up in his mind… He was starting to fear that he didn’t have what it took to be a good father.

That wasn’t to say he was having second thoughts about the whole thing. He was still quite excited to be a father, and regardless of how he felt about it, it was a little too late to go back on that now. But where once he held only excitement and anticipation, now there was also this deep-seated dread that he would somehow find a way to fuck it all up in the most disastrous of ways.

Suddenly, a small tug on his arm pulled him from his thoughts. Yamcha glanced down, and soon he found himself staring into the big dark eyes of Goku’s youngest son as they stared back up at him. The infant was being held out for him to take, a tiny little hand already grabbing at his sleeve. Yamcha flinched slightly at the abrupt prospect of holding the child. Piccolo seemed to notice and offered him a reassuring smile.

“Go on. You’ll never learn if you don’t try,” he assured softly. At his further hesitance, the Namekian continued, “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. Just the fact that you’re worrying yourself to death over it now is a sure sign you’ll make a great father.”

Yamcha felt his heart skip a beat at that. Was that true? Were all of his fears actually a good thing? He glanced back down at Goten once more, who still stared up at him expectantly. He’d always heard that fathers were supposed to be these invincible creatures in the eyes of their children, that they were supposed to be brave men that knew no fear. But perhaps he’d gotten that wrong. After all, bravery was not the lack of fear, but having the courage to overcome one’s fears. Maybe that’s what he had to do now.

Slowly, he reached out to take Goten in his arms. A fresh bolt of panic shot through his body the instant Piccolo let go, genuinely afraid that he might drop the child. When that didn’t happen, he felt a surge of relief, and gently held the young boy against his chest.

“See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Piccolo said, beaming a proud smile down at his lover. Yamcha let a small, nervous smile creep across his face.

“Y-yeah, I guess not…” he replied, lowering his voice slightly now that he was holding a baby, afraid to startle him by speaking too loud. Goten stared up at him for a moment more, calm as could be, before suddenly his little face scrunched up unhappily. He let out a whine that threatened on the verge of tears, at which point Yamcha’s sense of panic returned in full force.

“Wh-what’d I do?! Did I do something wrong?!” he asked somewhat frantically, immediately looking to Piccolo for help. The Namekian merely replied with an amused chuckle.

“Don’t worry, he’s fine. He’s probably just hungry.”

“But… Chi Chi literally just fed him before they left!”

“Yeah, well… I guess we should both be grateful that neither of us are Saiyans.”

With that, Piccolo got up and headed out into the kitchen. Fortunately, he wasn’t gone for long, returning with a bottle of formula hardly a minute later.

“Here, have at it,” he said, holding out the bottle for him.

“Y-you want me to do it?” Yamcha replied, staring at it as though he was being handed a live tarantula.

“Why not? You may as well learn all you can while we’ve got Goten to practice on.”

“Y-yeah, but…” he began, hesitantly accepting the bottle. The instant Goten saw it, however, his hangs flew up to try to grab at it. Yamcha blinked down at the infant in confusion before holding the bottle near his mouth. Goten practically snatched it out of his hand, falling silent as soon as he shoved it in his mouth.

“Wow. Uhh… That was easy.”

Piccolo flashed him a smirk, settling back onto the couch next to him.

“He’s old enough that you don’t need to do anything special. Newborns are a little different, but we’ll get to that when the time comes.”

Well, Yamcha certainly wasn’t about to complain about that. He’d take any break he could get today. Unfortunately, that seemed to be the end of the breaks he would be getting. They heard him before they saw him; the rhythmic thumping of a two-year-old running down the hall towards them. Piccolo let out a sigh of dread.

“Dammit, I forgot we were watching Trunks too…” he groaned out, hanging his head a bit. Yamcha furrowed his brow in mild confusion.

“Wait… you can handle a little baby, but a toddler scares you?”

Piccolo looked him dead in the eye with the most serious look on his face that Yamcha had ever seen.

“Listen… I’ve watched humans for hundreds of years, through every stage of life, and let me tell you… There’s a reason they call them the ‘terrible twos.’”

As if on cue, Trunks ran into the living room, his lavender hair bouncing with each step. He barely even slowed down when he saw the two men sitting there on the couch, making a bee-line for them. Yamcha wasn’t entirely sure what he intended to do, and thus was utterly unprepared for the sudden shout of, “Mine!”

In an instant, the toddler had snatched the bottle from Goten’s mouth before sprinting right back out again, at which point the infant let out a shrill, ear-piercing cry. Piccolo let a growl rumble in his throat, immediately leaping up from the couch to give chase after the mischievous child. That left Yamcha alone with a screaming baby and no clue how to make him stop.

“Ah, jeez…” he grumbled out under his breath, staring down hopelessly at the child in his lap. What the hell was he supposed to do now?! Goten continued to wail loudly, inconsolable tears streaming down his cheeks. Yamcha glanced up after where Piccolo had disappeared, hoping desperately that he’d spot him walking back with Goten’s bottle in hand. What he spotted instead was Trunks dashing past the open doorway once more, likely on his third or fourth circuit around the house. Piccolo was currently leaning against the doorframe trying to catch his breath. Yamcha couldn’t help but smirk lightly.

“Wow, how does he have you that winded already? You do more strenuous stuff than this all the time.”

Piccolo shot back a severely annoyed glare at his lover, making him flinch slightly.

“I’d like to see you try to run after him with an egg the size of a melon pressing against your lungs…” he retorted, at which point Yamcha finally took notice of how Piccolo was holding a hand against his chest as he panted lightly. The ex-bandit felt yet another surge of panic, though this time for his boyfriend’s wellbeing. He got up from the couch and immediately dashed over to his side.

“A-are you alright?!” he asked somewhat frantically, to which Piccolo nodded.

“I’m fine. I just need a minute…”

“R-right…” Yamcha Yamcha replied nervously. Then, he got an idea. “Here, I’ll trade ya. You take Goten and go sit down. I’ll take care of Trunks.”

Piccolo wasn’t about to argue with that. He accepted the still-crying infant without complaint, at which point Yamcha was free to go running after Trunks in his place.

He managed to find the toddler fairly quickly just by listening for the light thumping of his uncoordinated footfalls. Once in his sights, Trunks glanced back at him, suddenly picking up speed once he noticed that someone new was chasing after him. Yamcha’s eyes widened slightly at seeing this new burst of speed. Okay, maybe he’d teased too soon about Piccolo being out of breath from chasing this kid, pregnant or not.

Trunks seemed all set to take him round and round the house just as he’d done to the Namekian before, but somehow he took a wrong turn. The boy skidded to a stop in what appeared to be a child’s playroom. Upon seeing that there were no other exits, he turned to dash out again, but Yamcha was there to block the entrance this time.

“Alright, kiddo, playtime’s over! Now just give me that bottle and you won’t get in trouble.”

Trunks, it seemed, was not the type of child to be reasoned with in such a way. He hugged the bottle to his chest, replying with a defiant, “Mine!”

“No, that’s not yours. It’s Goten’s. Now give it back, or else!”

Trunks shook his head furiously.

“Miiiiine!”

Yamcha let out a frustrated groan. Now he was starting to see why Piccolo dreaded watching the toddler. But what was he supposed to do here? If he just snatched the bottle away, then they’d have a screaming, crying two-year-old on their hands instead – potentially an even bigger headache than just having Goten crying. He had to find some way of making him let it go on his own, or distracting him, or…

Suddenly, he thought of something, a sly smirk spreading across his lips.

“Alright, you leave me no choice but to use my secret technique!” he announced, crouching down into his classic fighting stance. Trunks interest was immediately piqued, and he watched Yamcha with the same intensity as a seasoned fighter waiting to catch their opponent’s next move. Finally, Yamcha dashed forward with a shout of, “Wolf Fang Tickle Fist!”

Trunks let out a surprised yelp at that, and soon the toddler was rolling around on the ground, laughing uncontrollably as he was mercilessly tickled. Soon enough, he released his grasp on the bottle, too distracted to remember he was holding it at all. Yamcha grabbed the bottle before Trunks could recover, hiding it behind his back before finally releasing the boy from his tickle onslaught. Trunks, still laughing, dashed past Yamcha and out into the hall once more, clearly still expecting to be chased.

“Oh, no! He got away! Whatever shall I do?” Yamcha called after him in a tone of faux shock, making his way back out to the living room to deliver the stolen bottle to its proper owner. Once he got out there, however, he had to stop and stare at what he saw. Goten was now completely silent, his eyes half closed as he lay there against Piccolo’s chest, well on his way to sleep. He just barely caught the sound of the Namekian softly humming a tune to the child, though he cut himself off as soon as Yamcha walked into the room. The former bandit couldn’t believe his eyes. How’d he do that?!

“Alright, now that’s gotta be some alien voodoo magic,” Yamcha commented softly as to not wake the infant. Piccolo merely replied with a smirk, inviting him with a silent nod to rejoin him there on the couch. He gladly accepted, taking a seat next to his partner and looking forward to a moment of merciful peace.

The peace looked as though it might have been ruined momentarily, as a lavender-haired toddler poked his head out from around the corner of the door at them. Both adults seemed to tense up immediately, dreading what the little monster intended to do next. Thankfully, he didn’t run in to disturb Goten again. His running around seemed to have finally worn him out, and he merely waddled forward and climbed up onto the couch next to Yamcha. He then rested his head against the man’s leg and settled in for what was apparently an impromptu nap time. Yamcha let his held breath out in a sigh of relief, leaning over just enough to rest his head against Piccolo’s shoulder.

“We’re in way over our heads, aren’t we?” he whispered softly, the exhaustion of the past few minutes hitting him as even he found his eyelids drooping. He felt more than heard his lover give a light chuckle in response.

“Yeah, but that’s okay. All parents are in over their heads.”

________________

Soon enough, Bulma and Chi Chi returned home, each carrying several shopping bags in their arms as they walked through the door. What instantly struck them as they entered was the sound of utter silence – a confusing sound, for sure, as they’d both expected to come back to a scene of utter chaos. The two women then spotted their two victims, and a small smile spread across each of their faces.

Both Piccolo and Yamcha were fast asleep on the couch, clearly worn out from the day. Goten was still held securely in Piccolo’s arm against his chest, the soft beating of the alien’s heart working wonders to keep him asleep as well. Trunks was still resting his head on Yamcha’s leg, a small blanket pulled over him as he napped along with the others. Bulma, unable to help herself, immediately pulled out her phone and snapped a picture, unsure if she wanted to use it as blackmail or just keep it because it was cute.

“So, what do you think?” she asked softly once she’d gotten a good enough shot. Chi Chi gave her a nod of approval.

“I think they’re ready.”

Description
Chapter 17: Training Day

For the next several weeks, there wasn't a single thing that could have wiped away the giddy grin from Yamcha's face. Part of him still couldn't believe that he and Piccolo were going to be parents soon – that he was finally going to be a father! He'd never even considered the possibility that they could have a child together. He knew that all Namekians shared the same gender, and that all of them were capable of having a baby, but... he never imagined that a Namekian and a human could have one together. The two of them were so different, it felt like an honest to God miracle that it happened at all.

The news got out almost immediately, much to Piccolo's chagrin. Bulma had come looking for them after she saw them slip out at the masquerade, finding them out on the balcony together. After a teasing cat-call and a comment suggesting they get a room, Yamcha found himself just blurting out what he'd just found out, far too excited by the news to even consider keeping it to himself. Bulma seemed equally elated by the news and, not being the type to keep a secret, she immediately ran back inside and told everyone.

Yamcha did feel a little sorry for Piccolo after that, as he looked as though he would die of utter embarrassment while the others offered their congratulations to the two of them. A source of further dread for him was soon brewing among the women of the group, as tended to happen lately. A plot to 'help' the soon-to-be parents was quickly devised, which was why, some weeks later, the two of them found themselves walking up the pathway leading to Bulma's house.

Their arrival seemed to have been eagerly anticipated, as the front door of the large dome-shaped house swung open even as they were still approaching. Bulma poked her head out, a mischievous grin already plastered across her face.

"Hey guys! Welcome to day one of daddy training camp!" she announced with a small giggle before turning her attention more towards Piccolo specifically. "Wow, busting out the comfy mom clothes already, are we?"

Piccolo's face instantly flushed a deep purple at that, and he quickly averted his gaze to keep from having to stare at that teasing grin of hers. The Namekian had worn a simple dark sweater tucked into a pair of jeans. Honestly, Yamcha himself wasn't dressed much differently, but he was known to wear clothes like that from time to time, where his partner certainly wasn't.

"Look, I'm not about to get all dressed up if I'm just going to be spending all day looking after a seven-month-old and a two-year-old," he explained as casually as he could manage, though it was clear that he was still quite flustered. Bulma decided to go easy on him for once and let it be at that before leading the two of them inside.

Once they entered the living room, they found that Chi Chi was there already, sitting on one of the couches with her infant son held in her lap. Goten merely sat there and stared up at the two men curiously, a bit of drool rolling down his chin. Chi Chi greeted them with a smile, but her eyes soon narrowed in suspicion.

"Hey, aren't you far enough along to be showing at least a little bit now? When are you supposed to be due, anyway?" she practically interrogated Piccolo, scrutinizing his midsection as though she was offended that his waist was so trim. The deep purple blush returned to his face in an instant at being asked such a thing. He was clearly still not used to discussing stuff like that, even with people he knew fairly well.

"I-I'm supposed to have the egg sometime in February, according to Dende..." he managed to stammer out reluctantly. Now Chi Chi looked genuinely offended.

"Hold on! You're due in four months and you still look like that?! What kind of alien voodoo magic are you pulling here?!"

"I'm not pulling anything! You're just looking in the wrong spot!" he retorted, his embarrassed blush now extending to the tips of his ears. Chi Chi's expression shifted to one of mild confusion.

"Uhh... So where am I supposed to be looking?" she asked, arching a single brow at him. Piccolo seemed unable to answer directly, looking away bashfully as he tapped a hand lightly in the center of his chest.

"Y-you're wasting your time looking, anyway... Namekians don't really 'show' when we're pregnant... Not like you humans do…"

Regardless, Chi Chi found herself staring at his chest for a long moment as though trying to discern if he was telling the truth or not. Finally, she seemed to accept it, but not before thinking up one more question.

"Okay, so... If that's where the baby is... How exactly did he get you pregnant? Are we talking blow job, or—"

"Okay, you know what? Anatomy lessons are officially over!" Piccolo interjected forcefully, looking more flustered than any of them had ever seen him. Yamcha himself couldn't help but blush a bit at where that conversation had started to go, now quite grateful that his boyfriend had put an abrupt end to it. Bulma, however, was currently doubled over and laughing so hard it looked like she could barely breathe.

Once the laughter and awkwardness subsided, Bulma and Chi Chi proceeded to give the two of them a quick rundown of what they were expected to do. They were mostly shown how to take care of Goten’s specific needs. He wasn’t exactly a newborn anymore, but he was far closer than Trunks was. Yamcha was surprised at just how little they needed to teach them. Sure, they were taught how to hold him properly, how to feed him, how to change his diaper… but there wasn’t much more than that. All in all, they spent all of fifteen minutes being shown what to do before the two women left the infant in their care and headed for the door.

“Alright, good luck, you two! We’ll be back in a few hours!” Bulma announced with a grin. She then closed the door behind them before the two men could utter any protest. Yamcha could only stare at the back of the door for a long while even after they left, some part of him half-expecting them to come back inside and laugh over it as though they were just kidding about leaving them there. After it was quite clear that Bulma and Chi Chi wouldn’t be back anytime soon, he turned to stare up at Piccolo.

“Why does it feel like they just duped us into babysitting for free?”

“Because that’s exactly what they did…” Piccolo grumbled out through his teeth, his eyes narrowing at the back of the door as though convinced that the two women could feel his scorn at the situation they left them in. Goten merely stared up at the giant alien that was holding him, completely unperturbed by his appearance. The infant then flopped himself down fully against Piccolo’s chest, rubbing his little face against the soft fabric of his sweater, smearing drool and probably snot across it.

“Gross…” Yamcha commented under his breath. Much to his surprise, Piccolo didn’t seem too bothered by it, reacting with little more than a sigh.

“And that’s why I dressed the way I did,” the Namekian replied, still trying to justify his decisions against Bulma’s ‘mom clothes’ comment earlier. “Anyway, you always wanted to be a dad, right? Well, get used to it. This is our life soon.”

Yamcha then watched as Piccolo made his way around to the couch, settling himself down into the cushions and just letting Goten do what he wished within the confines of his arms – which, at the moment, consisted of gumming uselessly at a fold in the alien’s shirt. Yamcha soon joined him in the seat next to him, staring slightly as his lover seemed to have completely accepted the situation that had been thrust upon them.

“So, uhh… You seem pretty calm about all this.”

“Yeah, I got all of my freaking out about the whole ‘becoming parents’ thing in the first few weeks. Nothing to do now but do our best to be prepared.”

“You seem like a complete natural with him, though. You already know what to do and everything.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Piccolo retorted, shooting him a questioning sort of smile. “I seem to remember you being there for the same little tutorial I got.”

“I mean, yeah, but… You’re not phased by any of this. You were just told what to do, and you just do it like it’s no big deal. And here I am, still kinda afraid to even hold Goten. He’s not even that little, and I’m still afraid I might hurt him…”

“That’s just because you’ve never done it before. You’re not used to it.”

Yamcha couldn’t help but stare at Piccolo for a moment upon hearing that.

“So… That means you have?”

A slight hint of purple returned to the Namekian’s cheeks, but he could tell he wasn’t anywhere near as embarrassed by the line of questioning as he was earlier.

“I-I’ve never raised a child before, no… But a Guardian’s duties takes them to unexpected places. At times, Kami would go down to Earth in disguise as a human to rescue lost or abandoned children and take them somewhere safe to be cared for. Sometimes those children were just a few days old, and he learned to care for them in the hours or days it might have taken him to find an appropriate place to leave them. Namekian babies might be a little different, and for that I have Nail’s memories to guide me, but… Well, ours is going to be half-human, after all, so I guess this isn’t entirely a wasted experience.”

Yamcha supposed that made sense, but the sentiment still stood; Piccolo already had way more experience in all this than he did. Hell, he didn’t have any experience in taking care of children. It was all just a dream before, but now that all the little details of what parenthood entailed were starting to pile up in his mind… He was starting to fear that he didn’t have what it took to be a good father.

That wasn’t to say he was having second thoughts about the whole thing. He was still quite excited to be a father, and regardless of how he felt about it, it was a little too late to go back on that now. But where once he held only excitement and anticipation, now there was also this deep-seated dread that he would somehow find a way to fuck it all up in the most disastrous of ways.

Suddenly, a small tug on his arm pulled him from his thoughts. Yamcha glanced down, and soon he found himself staring into the big dark eyes of Goku’s youngest son as they stared back up at him. The infant was being held out for him to take, a tiny little hand already grabbing at his sleeve. Yamcha flinched slightly at the abrupt prospect of holding the child. Piccolo seemed to notice and offered him a reassuring smile.

“Go on. You’ll never learn if you don’t try,” he assured softly. At his further hesitance, the Namekian continued, “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. Just the fact that you’re worrying yourself to death over it now is a sure sign you’ll make a great father.”

Yamcha felt his heart skip a beat at that. Was that true? Were all of his fears actually a good thing? He glanced back down at Goten once more, who still stared up at him expectantly. He’d always heard that fathers were supposed to be these invincible creatures in the eyes of their children, that they were supposed to be brave men that knew no fear. But perhaps he’d gotten that wrong. After all, bravery was not the lack of fear, but having the courage to overcome one’s fears. Maybe that’s what he had to do now.

Slowly, he reached out to take Goten in his arms. A fresh bolt of panic shot through his body the instant Piccolo let go, genuinely afraid that he might drop the child. When that didn’t happen, he felt a surge of relief, and gently held the young boy against his chest.

“See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Piccolo said, beaming a proud smile down at his lover. Yamcha let a small, nervous smile creep across his face.

“Y-yeah, I guess not…” he replied, lowering his voice slightly now that he was holding a baby, afraid to startle him by speaking too loud. Goten stared up at him for a moment more, calm as could be, before suddenly his little face scrunched up unhappily. He let out a whine that threatened on the verge of tears, at which point Yamcha’s sense of panic returned in full force.

“Wh-what’d I do?! Did I do something wrong?!” he asked somewhat frantically, immediately looking to Piccolo for help. The Namekian merely replied with an amused chuckle.

“Don’t worry, he’s fine. He’s probably just hungry.”

“But… Chi Chi literally just fed him before they left!”

“Yeah, well… I guess we should both be grateful that neither of us are Saiyans.”

With that, Piccolo got up and headed out into the kitchen. Fortunately, he wasn’t gone for long, returning with a bottle of formula hardly a minute later.

“Here, have at it,” he said, holding out the bottle for him.

“Y-you want me to do it?” Yamcha replied, staring at it as though he was being handed a live tarantula.

“Why not? You may as well learn all you can while we’ve got Goten to practice on.”

“Y-yeah, but…” he began, hesitantly accepting the bottle. The instant Goten saw it, however, his hangs flew up to try to grab at it. Yamcha blinked down at the infant in confusion before holding the bottle near his mouth. Goten practically snatched it out of his hand, falling silent as soon as he shoved it in his mouth.

“Wow. Uhh… That was easy.”

Piccolo flashed him a smirk, settling back onto the couch next to him.

“He’s old enough that you don’t need to do anything special. Newborns are a little different, but we’ll get to that when the time comes.”

Well, Yamcha certainly wasn’t about to complain about that. He’d take any break he could get today. Unfortunately, that seemed to be the end of the breaks he would be getting. They heard him before they saw him; the rhythmic thumping of a two-year-old running down the hall towards them. Piccolo let out a sigh of dread.

“Dammit, I forgot we were watching Trunks too…” he groaned out, hanging his head a bit. Yamcha furrowed his brow in mild confusion.

“Wait… you can handle a little baby, but a toddler scares you?”

Piccolo looked him dead in the eye with the most serious look on his face that Yamcha had ever seen.

“Listen… I’ve watched humans for hundreds of years, through every stage of life, and let me tell you… There’s a reason they call them the ‘terrible twos.’”

As if on cue, Trunks ran into the living room, his lavender hair bouncing with each step. He barely even slowed down when he saw the two men sitting there on the couch, making a bee-line for them. Yamcha wasn’t entirely sure what he intended to do, and thus was utterly unprepared for the sudden shout of, “Mine!”

In an instant, the toddler had snatched the bottle from Goten’s mouth before sprinting right back out again, at which point the infant let out a shrill, ear-piercing cry. Piccolo let a growl rumble in his throat, immediately leaping up from the couch to give chase after the mischievous child. That left Yamcha alone with a screaming baby and no clue how to make him stop.

“Ah, jeez…” he grumbled out under his breath, staring down hopelessly at the child in his lap. What the hell was he supposed to do now?! Goten continued to wail loudly, inconsolable tears streaming down his cheeks. Yamcha glanced up after where Piccolo had disappeared, hoping desperately that he’d spot him walking back with Goten’s bottle in hand. What he spotted instead was Trunks dashing past the open doorway once more, likely on his third or fourth circuit around the house. Piccolo was currently leaning against the doorframe trying to catch his breath. Yamcha couldn’t help but smirk lightly.

“Wow, how does he have you that winded already? You do more strenuous stuff than this all the time.”

Piccolo shot back a severely annoyed glare at his lover, making him flinch slightly.

“I’d like to see you try to run after him with an egg the size of a melon pressing against your lungs…” he retorted, at which point Yamcha finally took notice of how Piccolo was holding a hand against his chest as he panted lightly. The ex-bandit felt yet another surge of panic, though this time for his boyfriend’s wellbeing. He got up from the couch and immediately dashed over to his side.

“A-are you alright?!” he asked somewhat frantically, to which Piccolo nodded.

“I’m fine. I just need a minute…”

“R-right…” Yamcha Yamcha replied nervously. Then, he got an idea. “Here, I’ll trade ya. You take Goten and go sit down. I’ll take care of Trunks.”

Piccolo wasn’t about to argue with that. He accepted the still-crying infant without complaint, at which point Yamcha was free to go running after Trunks in his place.

He managed to find the toddler fairly quickly just by listening for the light thumping of his uncoordinated footfalls. Once in his sights, Trunks glanced back at him, suddenly picking up speed once he noticed that someone new was chasing after him. Yamcha’s eyes widened slightly at seeing this new burst of speed. Okay, maybe he’d teased too soon about Piccolo being out of breath from chasing this kid, pregnant or not.

Trunks seemed all set to take him round and round the house just as he’d done to the Namekian before, but somehow he took a wrong turn. The boy skidded to a stop in what appeared to be a child’s playroom. Upon seeing that there were no other exits, he turned to dash out again, but Yamcha was there to block the entrance this time.

“Alright, kiddo, playtime’s over! Now just give me that bottle and you won’t get in trouble.”

Trunks, it seemed, was not the type of child to be reasoned with in such a way. He hugged the bottle to his chest, replying with a defiant, “Mine!”

“No, that’s not yours. It’s Goten’s. Now give it back, or else!”

Trunks shook his head furiously.

“Miiiiine!”

Yamcha let out a frustrated groan. Now he was starting to see why Piccolo dreaded watching the toddler. But what was he supposed to do here? If he just snatched the bottle away, then they’d have a screaming, crying two-year-old on their hands instead – potentially an even bigger headache than just having Goten crying. He had to find some way of making him let it go on his own, or distracting him, or…

Suddenly, he thought of something, a sly smirk spreading across his lips.

“Alright, you leave me no choice but to use my secret technique!” he announced, crouching down into his classic fighting stance. Trunks interest was immediately piqued, and he watched Yamcha with the same intensity as a seasoned fighter waiting to catch their opponent’s next move. Finally, Yamcha dashed forward with a shout of, “Wolf Fang Tickle Fist!”

Trunks let out a surprised yelp at that, and soon the toddler was rolling around on the ground, laughing uncontrollably as he was mercilessly tickled. Soon enough, he released his grasp on the bottle, too distracted to remember he was holding it at all. Yamcha grabbed the bottle before Trunks could recover, hiding it behind his back before finally releasing the boy from his tickle onslaught. Trunks, still laughing, dashed past Yamcha and out into the hall once more, clearly still expecting to be chased.

“Oh, no! He got away! Whatever shall I do?” Yamcha called after him in a tone of faux shock, making his way back out to the living room to deliver the stolen bottle to its proper owner. Once he got out there, however, he had to stop and stare at what he saw. Goten was now completely silent, his eyes half closed as he lay there against Piccolo’s chest, well on his way to sleep. He just barely caught the sound of the Namekian softly humming a tune to the child, though he cut himself off as soon as Yamcha walked into the room. The former bandit couldn’t believe his eyes. How’d he do that?!

“Alright, now that’s gotta be some alien voodoo magic,” Yamcha commented softly as to not wake the infant. Piccolo merely replied with a smirk, inviting him with a silent nod to rejoin him there on the couch. He gladly accepted, taking a seat next to his partner and looking forward to a moment of merciful peace.

The peace looked as though it might have been ruined momentarily, as a lavender-haired toddler poked his head out from around the corner of the door at them. Both adults seemed to tense up immediately, dreading what the little monster intended to do next. Thankfully, he didn’t run in to disturb Goten again. His running around seemed to have finally worn him out, and he merely waddled forward and climbed up onto the couch next to Yamcha. He then rested his head against the man’s leg and settled in for what was apparently an impromptu nap time. Yamcha let his held breath out in a sigh of relief, leaning over just enough to rest his head against Piccolo’s shoulder.

“We’re in way over our heads, aren’t we?” he whispered softly, the exhaustion of the past few minutes hitting him as even he found his eyelids drooping. He felt more than heard his lover give a light chuckle in response.

“Yeah, but that’s okay. All parents are in over their heads.”

________________

Soon enough, Bulma and Chi Chi returned home, each carrying several shopping bags in their arms as they walked through the door. What instantly struck them as they entered was the sound of utter silence – a confusing sound, for sure, as they’d both expected to come back to a scene of utter chaos. The two women then spotted their two victims, and a small smile spread across each of their faces.

Both Piccolo and Yamcha were fast asleep on the couch, clearly worn out from the day. Goten was still held securely in Piccolo’s arm against his chest, the soft beating of the alien’s heart working wonders to keep him asleep as well. Trunks was still resting his head on Yamcha’s leg, a small blanket pulled over him as he napped along with the others. Bulma, unable to help herself, immediately pulled out her phone and snapped a picture, unsure if she wanted to use it as blackmail or just keep it because it was cute.

“So, what do you think?” she asked softly once she’d gotten a good enough shot. Chi Chi gave her a nod of approval.

“I think they’re ready.”