#dbs piccolo

You blink in surprise when he jerks his head away with flushed cheeks.

"What are you doing?!"

You mistake his flustered state for pain, "Oh—I'm sorry, did I hurt you? I didn't mean to, I thought I was being careful!"

His sigh was shaky as he covered his face,  "You didn't hurt me...I...that's just a sensitive area."

"Oh. It is?" You offer him an innocent look before you brush a finger against a single antennae.

"Yes," he avoids eye contact.

"Are you okay with me touching them?"

"I don't mind. Just not...all the time," he whispered.

He couldn't handle this more than a minute or so.

“I’ll be my secret…”

And you used this secret to your advantage.

Like when he's overthinking... then his overthinking turns in another direction.

And when he's angry.

Like one time he got angry at some alien who decided to visit earth, you thought he was too upset for your liking.

It was like a switch. From teeth bared, face scrunched, and veins bulging, to an utterly flustered and breathless mess. Your cheek kiss for good measure only made things worse.

Once Piccolo collected himself, he spoke, "[Name]. You’d better run."

"Why—?"

You'd teach him the basics, first, how to cook toast. Then eggs and bacon. Then you'll move on to rice, beans, and pasta. Lastly, you'll do meat and baked goods. He was a fast learner, so it didn't take him long to learn. He quickly became quite the master at cooking, and you began salivating for his delicious foods.

He took a liking to cooking shows, one because they were entertaining, and two because he could learn new dishes. He began seeing cooking as a form of art, and he was a beautiful artist. His foods began going from basic to gourmet meals fit for a queen. You'd feel so cocky seeing your fancy meal compared to everyone else's.

He's been buying fresh products and spices, he's kept the kitchen clean and he'd never let it get dirty. He'd scrub away any grim that even dares to appear. Only the finest cleaning products and groceries littered your home. It never smelled so fresh before.

When you get home, he'll already be in the kitchen, making dinner for you, while the TV would be on in the background, Gordan Ramsey's voice would make a smile appear on your face, as you kick off your shoes and head into the kitchen. The food would smell divine, and you'd feel so giddy. Piccolo would tell you to clean your hands and to set the table, and you wouldn't complain.

Piccolo was a mature individual, he thrived on peace and quiet, but he didn't mind some noise. You, on the other hand, were more energetic and hyper, being married to him was a perfect balance. You loved his caring nature and how he was rather fatherly in his own ways, and he actually adored your cute hyper activeness, even when you weren't as hyper, he still loved you.

In the morning he'd wake you up with the smell of eggs and bacon with a hint of coffee. Sometimes oranges that's been freshly squeezed. You enjoyed his cooking, and he enjoyed doing it for you.

He was happy that you taught him how to cook, he never knew that he had such a talent, he wonders what else he could do, but being a house husband, was sure to show him.