Chapter Text
Having gotten close to Piccolo through Gohan, you now visit him often to join him in the forest for a calm meditation session. During those peaceful sessions, both of you would sit quietly, enjoying each other's silent company. It was only while you were with Piccolo that you get to immerse yourself in the joys of nature. He was a man of few words, leaving a choir of nature's sounds to fill in for his lack of verbal expression. Where you sat, you could hear a menagerie of birds flapping their wings and bouncing from one branch to another. There were cicadas buzzing away at the tree tops in the distance, with dry leaves gently breaking away from the trees and fluttering its way down to the earth's dewy bed.
Sensing the darkening surroundings, you figured it was time for you to head back before it became too late.
You peek an eye at the man across you.
Predictably and just as amusing as ever, there he sat unmoving as a rock, engulfed in a hurricane of leaves that are trapped on his garments. The Namekian was bound to trap a few leaves on him — but the fact that he was larger meant that he has more surface area to catch more leaves, resulting in you looking up after several hours to face a now shrub-looking Piccolo. Due to that, you have now developed a habit of dusting him off before you made your way home silently.
Smiling fondly, you began cleaning up the mess by plucking some small twigs out and brushing the leaves off. It was moments like this that you get to see his features up close. You have always admired him for his otherworldly beauty. Others find his appearance wild and unexpected, thus to them he was the textbook definition of unfriendly and unapproachable. To you however, you just thought he was wonderful. You have heard all sorts of facts about him from the past, about how he would kill ruthlessly and reign terror, but by heavens could you never find a trace of that in the current him at all. Though he did not have to, he learned and adapted to humanly customs and practices. He even trained and cared for Gohan so dearly, despite clearly being able to chose otherwise. You liked that of him, you thought as you slowly reached out to remove one last leaf that hid behind his ear, biting back a yawn from a long and tiring day.
You love that of him.
Seconds pass as the realisation slowly sets in. You were taken aback by your own choice of words, and you pull away from Piccolo abruptly. No longer tired and now wide awake, you ran through that thought several times in your head. A flurry of all sorts of emotions erupted in you the more you thought about it. Your face and chest burned from the rise of internal conflict, and suddenly, everything seemed to lodge right at the back of your throat. Unable to put a name to any emotions that just coursed through your body, you slowly walked away from Piccolo's meditating form and, the moment you were out of sight, sprinted your way home.
You were excited and scared, and it was incredibly painful in the chest to realise just how much you were feeling at the moment. Nothing was comprehensible to you, and disbelief weighed heavy on your shoulders. What exactly about him did you like?
“Everything.”
The answer came as swiftly as the question surfaced, and for a moment, you recall every gesture Piccolo has ever shown to you and in front of you. He handled Gohan well when his energetic nature would overwhelm you, he offered to meditate with you when you said you wanted to be able to get a peace of mind, he was never curt to you though he was crass to everyone else, he was gentle enough to not hurt a flower despite his large hands and long nails, and oh, the urge to coddle him when he turned purple from embarrassment ...
How could you not come to love a soul so beautiful?
Mind reeling from the revelation you have come to, you drag yourself to your bedroom and slump face down onto the bed.
Oh, what are you going to do?
Suddenly, it occurred to you that Piccolo could read minds.
You jolt back into a sitting position, pulling your knees into your chest. Heart racing, you consider the possibility that Piccolo might find out what you feel and pull away from you. Knowing how apt Piccolo's senses are, you must be smart about this. You were most definitely not ready to let him know what you feel, especially when you don't know what he thinks of you.
After toiling at this on your own for hours on end, you decide to play the situation by ear and roll with the tides. Decidedly, if you don't think anything, he won't know anything. Hopefully, the meditation itself will act as a calming factor to you as usual and block things out. Settling down on that conclusion, you were finally able to put your worry-addled mind at ease and go to rest.
*
It was the end of another meditation with Piccolo and there you stood, contemplating your next course of action as you look at the situation before you. Oh boy, were you wrong about letting meditation calm you. Your heart skipped a beat when you met his eyes but you managed to get by that and begin the session without a hitch. Halfway through, however, you realise what would come at the end of every session. You could not for the life of you recall how you ever managed to brush the leaves off him without feeling weird or making it seem weird. The original intention which you had decided on was to continue doing what you did before to avoid seeming suspicious, but at the same time, it seemed that doing so now while bearing a very different inclination would give you away entirely. Finally, your habit got the better of you and you continue to clear the leaves away still, but you did it hastily and left the scene as quick and subtly as you could. The way Piccolo's ear twitched at the subtle change in your behaviour completely evaded your awareness.
The days turned into a week, and a week turned into several weeks, and those several weeks turned into several months. At this point, you have entirely stopped going near him to brush them off. You could not bring yourself to do it, not with how obvious it would seem to anyone else, especially Piccolo. It was for the best, you insist to yourself as you shirk off a sense of sadness that dwelled in you.
You let out a breath of relief at the weeks that flew by, feeling a little relieved that everything was going well. At least, that was what you felt up until Gohan greets you at your door one day, asking you about Piccolo.
"I'm sorry, I know it's really sudden of me to drop by, it's just — he seems so angry all the time, more angry than usual. It was bad, and when I ask him what's wrong, he doesn't say much or he just tells me not to worry about it or to stop asking and leave him alone."
The boy nervously plays with the hem of his Gi, shuffling a little on the spot.
"I just- its- Is he alright? Did I do something wrong?"
You were heartbroken at the sight of the darling boy who was on the verge of tears.
"Oh Gohan, it's definitely not you, he loves you! I promise," you comfort him gently, patting his head and smoothening out the wrinkles on his uniform.
"Pinky promise?"
"Pinky promise," you assured kindly.
"I'll go talk to him, alright? I'm sure everything will be just fine."
Gohan cheers up slightly at your words, and soon after you usher him home to Chi-Chi, you make your way to the usual spot to meet Piccolo.
Today, you find him meditating in the same spot as per usual. What's different this time, however, was the fact that he removed his cape and turban entirely, both articles of clothing were nowhere to be found. You gulp, realising the depth of Gohan's words when he told you that "it was bad".
You lightly sat by him, looking at him carefully. You notice upon closer inspection that Gohan was absolutely spot on with his description on how Piccolo's expression looked. His brows had an even tighter gap with how much they were furrowed, his shoulders were stiffer than you remember, and his ears were lowered in what you recognise to be frustration. A surprisingly rare emotion for you to chance upon, coming from the man who you knew to be kind and implicitly gentle.
Not knowing how to even start, you sat in silence, knowing that the peace and quiet meant a lot to him, especially when he was in a mood like this.
The tension was thick, enough to make you sweat despite the breezing wind. It felt endless, and at last, you decide that you should at least try to get his attention. If it doesn't work, you will head back before you tried anything silly as a drastic measure to alleviate the inquietude.
"Piccolo?"
You slowly tread towards his floating form, trying to get a read on him.
Nothing.
Your shoulders slumped and a weight dropped in your gut, hurt and lonely from his lack of a response. Lifting your arm to reach for the leaves that have befallen upon him once more, you abruptly stop short of your action.
Heaving a defeated sigh, you decide against touching him despite the painful longing in your chest. You straighten yourself and murmur to him quietly, "I'll be going now, take care Piccolo."
You turn to leave, but something large clasps onto your wrist, startling you so much that you let out an involuntary squeak of terror.
Your head whips down to the arm that was stuck to see a large, green hand, holding you in place.
No longer sitting, Piccolo was now towering over you against the setting sun, casting long shadows upon your much smaller stature. He fixates his stare on you, his expression deadly in comparison to his usual. Palms sweaty, you dare not move.
A low rumble echoes through your guts.
"You're acting different."
Getting increasingly anxious, you blurt out a practiced answer from the top of your mind, "no, I'm perfectly fine, I'm the same as always," you gave him a small smile, albeit strained in the slightest. It does not slip his notice.
"I choose not to read your mind out of courtesy. 'Manners', as said by Bulma," he growls at you, "but in the last few months you have been nothing but distant, and as much as you didn't speak you were hardly silent for the fact that your energy was fluctuating all over the place. What's the point of being silent if the silence does not give you peace?"
You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. Piccolo had never spoken so much and in such an aggressive tone to you before that it took you aback. He stiffens when he notices how tense you were and releases your arm. A slight red tinge appeared where he gripped you.
"... Do I repel you?"
Shock fills your face and his words propelled you to finally look up at him. He looked small, his shoulders no longer square and firm, and his ears were drooped slightly. His face, too, seemed down. He felt — hesitant. Your heart crushes at the look on his face. Never in all the time that you've known Piccolo have you seen him to be so vulnerable. He was one of the strongest fighters you knew of, and he never displays any sign of a weakness. Not in battle, and most certainly not at all. Yet here he was standing before you, his appearance miserable and unsure. Words finally found their way to your mouth, and you speak carefully with as gentle a voice as you could.
"Piccolo, you would never repel me. I enjoy my time with you lots, and I'm sorry that I confused you with my actions. I love meditating, and I love doing it with you, and I know you to be kind and gentle despite being a fighter. I have come to care for you as a person, and you bring me lots of joy. Please never think that you will ever repel me, you don't deserve to feel that way. I don't want you to feel that way."
Your eyes slowly trail away from his eyes, a little embarrassed that you revealed so much of your heart to him.
"Then why did you stop?"
You look back at him, confused.
"What? I never stopped caring-"
"Why did you stop brushing leaves off me all of a sudden?"
Your eyes widen and out of the blue, the air felt blistering hot.
"I just- that's-"
What you thought to be an affronted look slowly looked more and more like a different expression altogether. He looked like he was grouchy, but not in the way he usually was. It felt more childish, more feeling and somehow — it made you want to spoil him to death.
... Was he sulking?
"Piccolo?"
You slowly shuffle your way a little closer to him, carefully testing the waters. Oh, this was different. Much different than before.
"Then — does that mean you would prefer if I kept doing that? You don't mind it?"
The tides took an unprecedented hard turn in the opposite direction; a bright blotch of purple spread across the face of the tall Namekian, and it left you feeling pleasantly surprised. He does not look at you, refusing to reply to your question.
"Actually, I want to rephrase that a little — did you like it?"
His head snaps to you and he gives you the most wide-eyed look you have ever seen him give, and he begins to splutter his words. A rare sight to see from someone usually so put together and externally tough.
"I didn't say- that's not the point, the point is-"
"So you do like it?"
You smile gently at Piccolo, at which point he manages to calm himself a little to gather his words.
"I don't ... dislike it," he mumbles with a disgruntled voice and stops facing you once more, but you knew better than to think he was upset. He was just embarrassed at the words you posed to him out of the blue. You observe the way he was still purple in the face, trying to collect himself. It was indeed the most adorable thing you have seen him do to date, and the image he portrayed made you melt with fondness.
Thinking it was best not to say a word, you sat back down, patting the spot of grass next to you. He drops down on the spot you indicated, landing with a thud and a huff, still not turning to meet your eyes. He's more full of emotions than meets the eye, you think to yourself, delicately lifting your hand to brush off the leaves that still remain on him. Piccolo's ears flick slightly at the sudden touch, but after the first few brushes he slowly leans a tad lower towards you. You laugh a little and continue your ministrations.
Lightly, you guide his face to look at you. The creases on his forehead have long vanished, and he was now much more relaxed. Something unspoken lingered in the air, waiting for either of you to release it from its bubble. Everything about this felt so very warm and comfortable and incredibly soothing. By the looks of it, Piccolo might feel the same way too, what with the way he was looking at you. With your hand now trailed on his cheek, it did nothing to help ease the purple that steadily grew on his face. His eyes were like starlight, something you have never seen before. They were so gentle yet so riveting, and your heart swelled knowing that he would never allow himself to be so open around anyone else. Both of you begin to lean in every so slowly, and soon, you both stop short, the distance between you two so intimate that the slightest shift would put your lips on his. He looks at your lips and back up at you, as if silently asking for your consent. You pull your other hand from the grass and warmly cup his ear. His lids almost close shut at your action and he tilts forth, closing the gap. A surge of heat bursts in your chest and spreads throughout while your eyes close at the contact. Your head grows giddy and starts to spin, pleasant sparks shivering down your body. Suddenly, you feel large hands wrap around your waist and the back of your neck with ease, causing you to gasp involuntarily into his lips. Both of you pull apart, slowly registering in your heads that you just shared a kiss.
"I ..." you sighed, still feeling entranced, "I didn't know you knew how to ... kiss ..."
"Not that I'm experienced," he replies quickly, then adds awkwardly in his low voice, "I just — figured some things out from the sidelines while looking at Bulma."
"Observant as always," you twinkled, stroking his cheeks lightly with your thumbs.
"... I've never thought to kiss anyone," he murmurs, enjoying your soft touches.
"So, am I the first one you ever-?"
If you thought he couldn't get any more shy than he already was, you were wrong. This time, his blush spread all the way to the tip of his pointy little ears. You coo internally at his reaction.
"Well," you timidly continue, "if it makes you any better, I've never really kissed anyone either. I'm glad it was you."
Thumbs still rubbing his ears, you gently pull him towards you, this time kissing with a little more confidence. Now less anxious than before, you notice a little more in the midst of the moment; his long antennas tickle your eyelids, his nose brushes yours a little clumsily, and his body felt oh so perfectly warm when it was this close to yours. You pull apart after some time, arms now loosely strung around each other.
"Would you say that you like me too? In extension to liking the way I helped you remove the leaves?"
Piccolo's response came slow and in a soft tone, but it came very sure.
"I do like you."
Too light-headed from his answer while still in his arms, you tuck your head in the crevice between his neck and shoulder in order to support your numb body. It was almost too much to bear. You feel Piccolo's body stiffen from your sudden closeness then slowly relax, pressing his weight into your body for more warmth.
"I like you too Piccolo," you whisper while smiling into his shoulder. For a long time, you lay comfortably in his arms, and he in yours. When you look up, lo and behold, he was covered in leaves once again. You chuckle at all the leaves stuck on his head and on his Gi.
"Hold on, let me fix that."
After a moment of silence and you brushing off the last of the leaves that lay scattered all over him, Piccolo catches your wrist before you can remove your hand. He looks at the slight bruise that he left from gripping your arm earlier, guilt evident in his eyes.
"Did I hurt you badly?"
You cup his cheek, brushing it slightly.
"No, but you did catch me off guard a little."
To your utmost surprise, Piccolo slowly starts rubbing the bruise. His large hands were as gentle as you remember, and you find yourself enjoying the soothing rubs. You feel the occasional nail lightly rubbing on your skin, but you didn't mind it at all. Too soon, Piccolo stops rubbing your wrist. You look up in confusion.
Slowly and with uncertainty, Piccolo reaches to the top of your head. You feel his hands slowly rub you hair.
"You had a leaf on you," he crudely excuses, still awkwardly patting your hair.
You smile knowingly, gently pressing the tip of your forefinger onto his nose. "Of course I did," you giggle. He coughs and tries to remove his hand but you held it and pulled it close enough for you to hug his arm. In the rest of the hours you spend in the woods, it was of you two cuddling gently on the forest grounds, only making your way home much later with all sorts of remnants of the woods stuck on both of you, remaining as a gift and reminder of that eventful day.
You had a feeling there would be a lot more leaves involved from here on out.