Chapter Text
Ouch. Another blow lands on his ribs. Yamcha counters with a jab but misses his mark. Tien is simply too fast. He takes a second to pull back from their spar to regain his footing. With some distance between them, he takes in Tien’s image— his broad, shirtless chest is hurling towards him, fists ready and eager to continue their fight.
“You’ll have to be faster than that!” Tien yells.
“Yeah? Try me!” Yamcha beckoned him. Tien’s smirk widens.
The smug glint in his three eyes told Yamcha that he’s not pulling punches even if this was only training. These daily spars have become routine for the two of them ever since Tien started training under Roshi… and ever since Yamcha’s leg healed from the incident at the 22nd World Tournament. The sparring was slow at first since Tien held back to accommodate Yamcha’s injuries—it was a kind gesture to repay his guilty conscious—but by now they were fully back into the swing of their rivalry. Well… almost. Tien had become used to Yamcha being a bit slower post-injury. He failed to realize just how much progress Yamcha had made to regain the speed he exhibited before Tien blew his kneecap to shrapnel.
He reaches Yamcha with a high kick intended to make contact with his chest, not at all anticipating Yamcha to be fast enough to dodge it, but he does. He swivels to the side and grabs Tien’s leg, using the other man’s momentum to slam him into the ground. The amusement in Tien’s eyes disappears as he’s thrown over Yamcha’s shoulder and lands on his side with a thud.
“Hah! You weren’t expecting this much speed from me yet, huh?” Yamcha teases Tien from above. He towers over him, arms crossed on top of his loose orange gi, with a smile on his lips. He hasn’t had much victory in these spars lately, but his ever-increasing speed was turning the tides in his favor. Tien laid clutching his side facing the ground, still catching his breath after it was knocked from his lungs.
Yamcha’s laughter ceased when Tien didn’t get up after a few moments. Strange… usually Tien would immediately rebound and say something snarky, continuing their match. That slam wasn’t nearly enough to injure him, was it? He knew how tough Tien was so the thought of hurting him with that move didn’t even cross his mind.
“C’mon bro, are you gonna keep training or just lay there all day?” Yamcha teased further, expecting Tien to hit him with another sarcastic comment. But instead, the fighter only glared back at him across his shoulder.
His stare was so dark and malicious that Yamcha couldn’t help but quiver under the eye contact.
Tien’s brows were furrowed, his face flushed. Yamcha felt a shiver run down his spine gazing into the three eyes staring daggers into him. His sharp gaze was full of nothing but disgust.
He looked furious.
This wasn’t just a battle face either… Yamcha had never seen him look so angry… not even the evil glint that the fighter delivered before shattering his leg was this hateful. Or unexpected.
Yamcha stood there frozen for a moment as Tien silently got to his feet without facing him. His movements seemed effortless, so he clearly hadn’t been hurt, at least not badly. Yamcha could only watch in confusion. What was happening?
“Tien? Are yo-”
“I’m done for the day,” Tien cut him off without turning around.
…What?
Yamcha felt his chest tighten. What’s got Tien so mad? He’s never quit one of their spars early… Did he… do something wrong?
Panic sets in at the idea, a self-blaming panic that is all too familiar to him after Bulma’s behavior during their relationship. Thank gods that’s over. But what scared him is that this was Tien. Tien, who has never been mad at him like this… at least, not since they stopped being rivals… did he still have some unresolved disdain for him, or did Yamcha provoke this?
“Are you okay? Did I… throw you too hard?” Yamcha fights to keep the fear out of his voice as Tien’s muscular back tense at the questions.
He doesn’t acknowledge his concern and walks off towards the house.
Yamcha watches him leave, feeling a pang of guilt as he notices his red ears.
What’s going on with him?
The rest of the day was spent through mutual avoidance and anxiety. Kame House is never quite a relaxing place to be with all the characters that stay there… right now, Yamcha, Tien, Chiaotzu, and Krillin were all staying with Roshi to train on the island… not to mention Bulma and Launch who are in and out at their own whims… plus Oolong, Puar, and the turtle… and Goku who has been doing his own side quests recently… needless to say, the house has a chaotic atmosphere.
Yamcha spent the evening ruminating alone on the beach. Not even the frenzied house could distract his busy mind right now. He still didn’t know what to make of their spar earlier. Did he make Tien angry?
He shakes his head vigorously to dismiss the thought.
Patterns of self blame and guilt plagued his past relationship with Bulma, but his relationship with Tien was nothing like that. Yamcha didn’t want to carry old baggage into this new friendship. He knows that their spar was otherwise normal... Tien snapped, but he did nothing to provoke it.
I guess he’s just going through something.
But Tien is mature, right? He’ll talk about it when he’s ready. For now, maybe it’d be best to just ignore what happened…
Throughout the chaotic dinner at Kame house, Yamcha tried ridiculously hard to ignore his worries creeping in, but the uneasiness he felt at the thought of something getting between him and Tien after all their progress was incredibly anxiety inducing. Not even the antics put on by his friends over their food was enough to distract him. Tien’s empty seat at the table was all he could focus on. In fact, nothing has had him this on edge in a while. He isn’t the type to worry, so why is this getting to him so much…?
The shared training hall that the fighters slept in felt extra stuffy that night. Yamcha felt on edge, anticipating Tien to come in at any moment to go to bed. Tonight it felt like the hall wasn’t big enough for both of them to share, but Tien never came in to roll out his futon and sleep.
And yet… something intangible kept Yamcha awake.
The night was long, restless, and empty.
Dawn broke and Yamcha met it without much enthusiasm. He had been unable to sleep all night. In those early morning hours he decided to roll out of bed only to see Krillin and Chiaotzu fast asleep. Puar was cuddled up in the corner.
And Tien was still missing.
His body creaked as he stumbled downstairs. No one was up; it was far too early for anyone to greet the day… in this house at least. Well. Except for Tien.
As he prayed to find day-old coffee in the kitchen, Yamcha caught a muscular silhouette in the corner of his eye. Through the kitchen window he could see him meditating about ten feet above the beach, his bare shoulders bathed in the pinks and oranges of the sunrise peeking over the ocean. He paused, taking in the sight of peaceful Tien from afar. There was a hand clenched around his heart that he hadn’t noticed until the sight of Tien’s tranquility put it at ease.
Wow.
His disheveled bangs falling over his face broke his daze. Right. Tien is going through something weird right now. But he’s okay. The best thing that he can do as his friend is show up.
With a deep breath, he pushes the front door open, eyes transfixed on the hovering man above him as he clutches a mug of reheated coffee. Thank gods that his morning search was successful.
He walks out to meet the lapping waves near Tien’s shadow. Without turning his head, Tien’s third eye suddenly opens to meet his gaze.
They stare at each other for a moment, each of them somewhat dazed; Yamcha, frozen out of fear for Tien’s reception after interrupting his morning meditation, and Tien, suspended at the sight of his messy morning hair catching the stray rays of the sunrise.
“Good morning,” Tien says after the pause. He seemed… slightly awed more than anything else. Like Yamcha’s presence had caught him a bit off guard, but not in a bad way.
“Good morning,” Yamcha replies somewhat hesitantly.
Tien opens all three eyes now. Yamcha anxiously awaits the next words to come from his mouth.
Is he still mad…?
A smirk forms on Tien’s lips as he peers down at him in all his morning glory.
“Is that yesterday’s coffee?”
Yamcha’s face flushes, partially from embarrassment but mostly from being caught off guard with the innocent—but accurate—inquiry.
“H-how did you know that…?” He swears his friend has more psychic abilities than he is letting on… What else could he know about him that he hasn’t shared?
Tien floats down from above him, standing tall on the beach in front of Yamcha.
“Lucky guess. Plus I don’t think you know how to use the coffee maker. You usually wait until someone else makes it every morning,” Tien smirks, and with a confident motion, grabs the mug and takes a sip. “This is really bad. I don’t understand why you like coffee at all,” he said flatly.
Yamcha can’t help but laugh at Tien’s strategy to break the awkwardness. It worked, at least. Tien’s own awkward bluntness sure did beat out whatever tension was there. Tien joins his laughter with a wry smile that quickly turned into a chuckle. “If you hate coffee so much then stop hogging my mug, asshole!” Yamcha jabs, lunging at him to get his drink back. Tien holds the mug out of reach and they wrestle over the cup for a minute, laughing and enjoying their usual playful antics.
Yamcha’s worries melted away. Tien wasn’t mad at him— they were back to relishing their sarcastic quips, taking comfort in a friend’s company on a beautiful morning. Everything was right again.
“Oh, uh… sorry if I interrupted your meditation,” Yamcha apologizes as their giggling dies down.
“No worries, I was done anyway,” Tien says as he places his hands on his hips, stretching his back a bit after sitting still for so long. “I’m gonna warm up a bit and eat breakfast, but then we should start our spar,”
His face lights up knowing that Tien will still indulge him with their daily ritual even after the complication that came with it yesterday.
“…unless it’s too early for you. I’ve never seen you awake with the sun this low in the sky,” Tien finishes, getting one last smug remark in.
“I wouldn’t miss it,” Yamcha says, hugging his mug and finally taking his first sip of the morning.
Tien was right yet again.
The coffee was really bad.
The maritime air is full of soft thuds and quick footsteps as they start the day’s fight. Yamcha decides to play the offensive today but his quick lunges and jabs are proving futile.
“Damn! Slow down for a second would ya?!” he cries as he tries to sweep Tien’s legs.
“Hah! Is that all you’ve got, turtle trash?” Tien barks as he jumps to avoid Yamcha’s leg.
“Stupid crane…!” Yamcha smirks as he shifts his weight, using his hands to push himself off the ground, driving his heels into Tien as he fell back down from his jump.
Tien flies back a bit with a groan but recovers quickly.
“Looks like you’re finally getting your groove back, but it’ll take a lot more than that to beat me!” Tien smirks as he lunges forward.
Their spars were almost like a dance. The two fighters were incredibly in sync with each other. They had become deeply familiar with each other’s fighting styles, but they always found their matches to remain challenging since they were both driven to come out on top.
There was an unspoken understanding between them about the sanctity of their daily fight. It didn’t always happen at the same time every day, but it always happened, ever since Yamcha was physically able. They both needed it. The frustrations of the day were washed away under the punches and blows they each gave and received. Fighting together… without having to hold back… it was its own form of meditation and regulation. They both felt it, and they both knew the other felt the same, even if words had failed to express the sentiment.
Yamcha ducked and dodged and bobbed and weaved. Tien’s counterattack was ruthless. The two were prancing all over the small island, getting dangerously close to the house. An evil glint in Tien’s eye seemed to speak volumes for his next move.
“What are you going to do when you’ve got nowhere to run?” he asked amid a barrage of fists. His unyielding chase was forcing Yamcha backwards closer to the side of the house.
And then he felt the pink siding of the structure on his back.
He was cornered.
Tien didn’t hesitate to deliver a devastating blow aimed at Yamcha’s jaw.
But, once again, Tien underestimated how fast Yamcha was since recovering.
Yamcha dropped to his knees and let Tien bust a hole in the side of the house. Oh well, this wasn’t the first time.
He took advantage of Tien’s moment of confusion and popped up behind him, twisting the arm that wasn’t embedded in the structure behind his opponent’s back before he snaked his other arm around Tien’s throat to hold him in a headlock.
“Do you really think I’m that slow?” Yamcha teased. He drove his knee into the back of Tien’s, causing his legs to collapse, making him effectively kneel.
“Say the word and I’ll let you go~” Yamcha couldn’t help but to play with him as he whispered into his ear. The power he had over his friend was addicting—he didn’t pin him like this often. Tien became quiet as Yamcha glowered over his victory. He was trapped.
Or so Yamcha thought. He forgot about Tien’s dominant arm that had punched the house.
A bloody fist silently met the arm around Tien’s neck. Tien yanked him so hard that Yamcha swore he’d dislocate his shoulder. Amidst the pain, Tien’s other arm was released.
Yamcha felt a sharp elbow to his stomach followed by a kick that sent him flying backwards. Ouch. Looks like he didn’t come to play.
He lands on his feet and jumps back towards him, eager to keep the fight rolling.
“Nice comeback, but I’m not that easy to keep down!” Yamcha lunges at his opponent who is now standing up again, and confidently too.
His enthusiasm for the battle drains once he meets Tien’s eyes.
That look.
That furious look.
It’s back.
Tien’s unexpected icy stare stops Yamcha dead in his tracks. The way he glares at him with his head lowered, shooting daggers through knitted brows… the intensity was overwhelming.
His ki was overwhelming too. The energy surrounding him was nothing like it usually was throughout their matches; this time it was sweltering and fierce, with a dangerous edge that Yamcha hadn’t quite seen before in all of his days fighting.
His stomach starts to ache. That elbow from earlier had a bit more power behind it than usual. All three of Tien’s eyes were fixed on him like he was the devil incarnate. His burning face and twisted expression combined with Yamcha’s newly dealt bruises hurt more than just physically.
“Tien—”
“Stop.”
Yamcha stayed quiet, confused, and afraid to speak.
Tien closed his eyes. After a few deep breaths he was a bit more regulated.
“I don’t want to talk,” was all he muttered.
Tien lowered his gaze and walked off without another word. Yamcha stared at him in disbelief.
What the fuck is going on, Tien??
Damn it!
The nearly scorching water raining down on his face wasn’t helping like it usually did.
Yamcha stood underneath the showerhead deep in thought…
Furious thought.
Once the shock of a second Tien outburst quelled, the only emotion Yamcha felt was rage. He was so frustrated with Tien that he couldn’t stand it. What’s up with these bouts of anger? With the interruption in their otherwise flawless routine? Why was Tien looking at him like he wanted to smite him, like he was the scum of the earth? Was it his fault? This only seems to happen when he has the advantage in a fight, so was Tien hung up on his progress? Is he mad that his friend is a challenge to him now? Mad that his sparring partner can finally pin him again?
The thought of Tien hating him for his strength was infuriating. But how could he fix this? How could he change...?
No--he's tired of being the problem. Bulma made sure to berate him until he deeply believed that every issue between them was always his doing. He took that philosophy with him through life, taking blow after blow until he began to realize that he deserved better. He started believing it when he focused on himself, when he got close to people who actually cared about him, when he….
When he became friends with Tien.
Yamcha bangs his head against the shower wall, squeezing his eyes shut in frustration. Long, dark hair clings to his shoulders and back. The heat and mist is rising in the bathroom but he refuses to leave until he can blow off some steam himself.
His stomach aches from Tien’s blow earlier… and at the idea that Tien might loathe how strong he was. Strength was something Yamcha had always valued, something he showed pride in… and now it was pushing Tien away.
How could he do this to him? Why would The Stoic Tienshinhan let his emotions lash out like this? Why won’t he talk about it? Why is he snapping at Yamcha during the most intimate part of their daily routine?
He opens his eyes.
Intimacy? Is that why this hurts so much?
His rabid mind forgot the rage it knew seconds ago. All thoughts were put on pause.
Intimacy? With Tien?
Is that what they have?
Or is that what he craves?
Oh.
The self-realization hit a little too fast.
This has been killing him because he wants Tien.
Fuck.
The rest of the night was a blur for Yamcha. The craziness of the house didn’t even phase him as he raked his brain over and over in attempt to understand his feelings about Tien. The more he pondered it the dizzier he got. Luckily, Tien had stormed off just like the night before… he missed dinner and didn’t bother sleeping with the rest of the fighters. At least Yamcha got some solitude to think things through.
Laying awake in bed, all he could wonder was where he was. He was pissed as hell that Tien was acting the way he had been, but he couldn’t help but worry about him… this is all very out of character. Not even the Tien he met at the world tournament was this temperamental.
He stared up at the ceiling, listening closely for the sounds of the fighters sleeping. This was his version of counting sheep--it always helped him doze off. Krillin’s snores, Chiaotzu’s slight groans as he tosses and turns, Puar’s soft purr…
Ah. That’s why he couldn’t couldn’t sleep the night before.
Tien’s soft, meditative breathing had always been what lulled him to sleep; ever since Tien came to train with them. But Yamcha never realized.
Fuck.
Tien’s absence left a notable void in his heart. How didn’t he notice it sooner?
Sleep takes him hesitantly.
Today’s morning didn’t greet him with the same kindness that it had the day before. The sun was already out. Yamcha’s muddied mind from the night prior persisted. Sitting up, he brushed his bangs out of his face. He’s alone in the training hall. Everyone else has already started their day. That emptiness he felt yesterday crept in deeper.
He managed to drag his weary bones to the stairs. Damn, his stomach still hurts from where Tien elbowed him. His journey down was greeted by the high-pitched, excited squeak of Puar wishing him a good morning. The other friendly faces in the living room and light hearted jokes about Yamcha sleeping in warmed his heart a bit. The kitchen rewarded him with a fresh, full pot of coffee. Looking out the window, he hoped to see Tien… but the view was lacking.
He slipped out of the front door huddled around the warmth of his mug. The shore was empty, but the clear ocean view ironed out his nerves. A few deep breaths grounded him from his tangle of thoughts about his friend.
“Yamcha!”
Ah. Speak of the devil.
Yamcha turns to see Tien around the corner of the house. He’s actually wearing a shirt today, but he’s been sweating and the cling of the white tank top isn’t helping to conceal the muscles hidden just underneath. He’s got a hammer in hand.
Oh, right. The hole they made in the house needed to be repaired.
Tien motions Yamcha to come over towards him.
He obliges, but begrudgingly… he’s still pretty mad, mostly about the way Tien has been snapping at him, but also a bit due to his own mess of feelings about his friend.
“Good morning. Looks like you finally rolled out of bed,” Tien smirks.
He is not in the mood.
“Yeah, I didn’t sleep much last night…”
“Oh. Well… sorry about that…” Tien seemed a bit taken aback by Yamcha’s uncharacteristically apathetic attitude this morning.
He decides to change the subject.
“I’m just fixing up that hole we made yesterday. Carpentry is a great skill to have—it’s both beautiful and useful.”
Yamcha glances over to the wall. Tien was repairing it with a lot of attention to detail. It actually looked pretty good. Definitely better than the patchwork jobs Yamcha and Goku have done. Of course Tien would know how to do something like this… he was always so self sufficient.
But even Tien’s talents and redeeming qualities were pissing him off today.
“Looks good…” he comments blandly.
They both feel the tension in the air but Tien doesn’t know what to make of it and Yamcha wasn’t ready to talk about it this early.
“So… do you want to spar…?” Tien asked a bit more sheepishly than usual.
Right, their daily spar.
“Yeah…” Yamcha trailed off. He really wasn’t in the mood to put up with fake-nice Tien if the man was going to snap at him within the hour yet again. Especially since Yamcha knew his own feelings were involved now. Maybe he could buy some time.
“I’m still waking up a bit… how about tonight?”
Tien seemed to notice that something was off, but didn’t address it.
“I wouldn’t miss it,” he says, flashing Yamcha a smile.
He gives a forced grin in response and they part ways for the rest of the day.
Yamcha had spent the afternoon trying to make sense of anything he was feeling, but damn if it wasn’t confusing. He eventually gave up and started distracting himself with training. He was more of an in-the-moment sort of guy when it came to emotions anyway, and this spar with Tien was going to happen whether he wanted it to or not.
After the sun went down, the house settled into their nightly activities—watching TV, playing games, reading magazines... the island outside was empty as its inhabitants became preoccupied.
Yamcha slipped out of the chaos and onto the dusk-bathed beach to see if Tien had made it outside yet. He found his partner meditating under the moonlight—this time not levitating, but instead sitting cross-legged on the shore. The silhouette of his bare shoulders against the waves wasn’t making this easier for him.
“Ah, there you are,” Tien said as Yamcha walked up from behind. He stood, brushing the sand off of his pants.
“Ready, wolf boy?” he smirked.
Yamcha replies with a wordless nod before moving over to their regular sparring spot.
“I’m feeling pretty good tonight, so don’t hold back.” Tien chuckled. He really was acting like nothing had happened.
Yamcha met his gaze with a stale expression.
Whatever, Tien.
They both got into position as Tien initiated the spar with a bout of punches.
Yamcha’s initial apathy served him well during the fight. Tien’s first attacks didn’t land at all. Yamcha felt loose and ready to evade his offense.
And yet…
After each dodge, Yamcha grew slightly more annoyed, slightly angrier. Was Tien pulling punches? Has Tien thought that he was weak this whole time? Every time he missed an attack, Yamcha became more convinced that his angry outbursts stemmed from being outdone. He hated it.
The idea of Tien being a sore loser to his training partner enraged him. It fundamentally went against the man he knew Tien as—a fair and honorable fighter. If Tien couldn’t handle getting pinned by Yamcha once in a while, what was the point of training together? To stroke his ego? Yamcha began to hate himself for having feelings for him to begin with.
He wanted nothing more than to show Tien just how strong he was. His rage couldn’t mask itself anymore. His punches got harder. His blows came faster. He was actively attacking now.
“Woah! You’ve got it out for me, huh?” Tien said smugly.
“You will eat that stupid smirk, Tienshinhan,” Yamcha prayed.
In the darkness, he saw a glint of fear flash in Tien’s three eyes. Yamcha’s fury was palpable. He was the terrifying one now.
He let the flames of his rage engulf him. After one too many jabs, a hard blow landed on Tien’s cheekbone.
Damn, he’ll probably have a black eye after that…
Tien tumbled backwards, hitting one of the island’s palm trees as he got pushed into the brush. He smirked and began to get up.
Yamcha would not let him regain his footing.
Before Tien could put his arms behind him to push off the ground, or even get out a snarky remark for that matter, Yamcha was towering over him.
Tien blinked and the next thing he knew he was pinned down. Yamcha had collapsed on top of him, straddling his hips while sitting up on his knees as he swiftly forced Tien’s arms above his head.
The gentle island breeze brought them both back into the reality of the position they were in.
They froze, suddenly having processed the views in front of them. Tien had three eyes full of Yamcha’s vengeance and falling hair against a background of stars. Yamcha saw a shocked and helpless Tien underneath the cloak of bushes and shrubs surrounding them. Yamcha’s fury subsided and Tien dropped his smugness.
They were only inches away from each other.
And both met the scenario with rage.
Yamcha watched as Tien’s face reddened. His eyes became focused and icy as his brows tensed, lips curling into a snarl. This was it, his sudden shift from regular-sparring-Tien into cold-rage-Tien. He knew it. Clearly he became triggered every time Yamcha got the upper hand. His own anger bubbled up fiercely, but Yamcha wasn’t going to go down easily this time.
Tien’s face twisted and his stare grew cold. That same familiar chill crawled up Yamcha’s spine. Tien was furious, yet again. He began to thrash underneath him.
“Yamcha. Get the fuck off of me.” He demanded.
“No.” Yamcha growled back. He was not backing down this time.
Tien’s eyes widened and his brow creased even further. His eyes seemed to be full of bloodlust.
“Yamcha. I’m not asking,” he snarled slowly while staring him deep in the eyes. Even in the position he had found himself in, Tien was still trying to intimidate him.
Fuck.
Then Yamcha snapped.
“I’m not letting you go until you tell me what the hell has been going on with you, Tien!” The thrashing underneath him was intense, but Yamcha remained in control of the situation. Tien was not getting out of this. Not this time. Before Yamcha knew it, his rage combined with Tien’s defiance was causing his feelings to fumble out of his mouth.
“Why have you been so mad at me?! Why have you been walking away every time I best you even a little?!?” Yamcha cried out as he slammed Tien’s wrists further into the soft dirt with each of his struggles. He clutched him tightly and shut his eyes to hold himself back.
“I thought you were an honorable fighter… have you been pulling punches on me this whole time? Do you think that I’m so weak that you can’t stand the thought of me beating you, even in a spar?!? Every time I get the upper hand even a little you storm off, is it that infuriating for you to lose to me?!?” Yamcha felt tears welling up but pushed them down under his closed eyes. He needed to know the truth.
But when he searched Tien’s face for his reaction, he didn’t find the answer he had expected.
Tien looked… defeated? Sad? Heartbroken? He had stopped thrashing a while ago, listening and hanging onto Yamcha’s every word. His eyes were suddenly soft, almost apologetic, and his brows were pressed together but this time in a way that looked more worried than anything else. His face was still flushed, but the vulnerable expression Yamcha saw when he finally opened his eyes was nearly the opposite of the enraged man he had just witnessed.
“Yamcha…”
Hearing his name coming from him like this stung. Tien’s voice was raw and filled with an edge he couldn’t define… his gentle demeanor had caught him completely off guard.
“I think you’re incredibly strong… it… isn’t that… I’m sorry…"
This was all Tien offered as a deeper blush rushed across his face.
Yamcha struggled to put meaning to his words and change of attitude.
All he could do is stare at the man beneath him with a look of hurt and confusion.
“Yamcha…”
His name rolled off of Tien’s tongue again in a way that made his hair stand on end. The way Tien’s eyes were gleaming in the moonlight made his heart ache. He looked apologetic, his face red and beads of sweat forming on his brow. No sign of malice crossed his face but words were failing him as he held his tongue. Not to mention his ki rising and falling rapidly in line with his breath.
What is this…?
“Tien…?” he probed softly.
Tien couldn’t form any words. His three dark eyes seemed to be pleading with Yamcha’s as he looked up at him.
He was submitting underneath him, allowing himself to be vulnerable. He was completely laid bare.
The sight made too many emotions bubble up inside Yamcha for him to process at once.
He slowly loosened his grip on Tien’s wrists, staring him down, and the man did not resist further. He leaned backwards onto his heels, allowing Tien some freedom in exchange for holding some of Yamcha’s bodyweight while he thought carefully about his next move. But what he didn’t realize is that he had rocked backwards onto Tien’s hips.
With a sharp gasp, Tien instinctually jerked his hips upwards into him.
Yamcha froze.
Then he noticed a solid heat beneath him.
Oh.
Fuck.