It was the week before the triplet’s first birthday. We weren’t really in to throwing big parities, so we decided it would be just us.

I couldn’t believe how quickly time had passed. It seemed like just last week we had been terrified of even having children. Now it all doesn’t seem like that big of a deal.

I was amazed with Vegeta as well. He seems to be so much more patient with everything he does. Not to a point where he doesn’t snap on occasion, but he could handle many things he probably would not have just a year ago.

Even though they were triplets; born on the same day, within a few minutes of each other; they had strikingly different personalities.

For one thing, the boys were really into fighting. It wasn’t in a sibling rivalry sort of way, but more like they were just driven to knock the other down a few pegs. Both of them were incredibly completive, even at this young of an age.

But separately, Aizel was more of the aggressive type. He liked to antagonize the other two. He wasn’t a mean kid, I don’t think, he just liked to see what reaction he would get. He also wasn’t much of a talker. He seemed uninterested in conversation, and tended to want to fight to solve all problems. He was also uninterested in the things that normal children do; color, read books, play pretend. He liked to be outside and running around. He didn’t really like the house at all.

Lysander, on the other hand, was a little bit easier to get through to. He seemed to understand almost anything you told him; to the best of his abilities. He was interested in fighting; but he was just as interested in observing. He asked a lot of questions. A lot of questions. Sometimes neither I nor Vegeta had an answer. He didn’t talk all that much either; unless it was to ask a question and then to ask more questions to understand the answer. He hardly ever answered questions about himself; maybe because he already knew about himself and wasn’t learning anything new.

But then there was Vienna. She was … different. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like her. She did fight, but only when asked; never voluntarily. She was the one that liked to talk. Her constant talking seemed to compensate for the boys’ lack of it. But most of all, she liked to read. She could not actually read; but she did like to be read to. She seemed to love words. She was always looking for the meaning behind something. Not just definitions, but the messages of the things she read.

Currently, things were beginning to wind down. It was about bed time. The boys had worn themselves out from running around all day, and I was exhausted from chasing after them.

Vienna asked Vegeta to read to her.

He didn’t mind reading to her, I don’t think. I think he liked spending time with her because she was so easy to please. “Let’s try a harder book today.” He grabbed a thick book from the shelf and set it down.

She cocked her head at it. “All of this tonight?”

He shook his head. “Just the first chapter.”

“What’s a chapter?”

“A chapter is the way the book is divided. Sometimes chapters mark the ending of an event in the story. Sometimes they mark when a thought is finished with. Sometimes there are just there to get you to read the next chapter.”

“Oh.” I wasn’t sure if she understood, but she seemed to drop it.

He opened it as he sat down.

“What’s this book about?”

“Animals.”

They started reading after that. She liked books with animals. Apparently, it was called Animal Farm, and it was about animals. On a farm. And they talked to each other.

After an hour or so, it was time for bed. I had never been so grateful for sleep.

“Come on, Vienna, time for bed.” I picked her up and began to carry her off.

“Wait, just one more chapter!” She hardly knew what a chapter was, and already she was begging for another. “I have to know what happens to them!”

“Tomorrow.” I said with a yawn.

She yawned too, seeming to ketch my initial yawn. “But… Da! They don’t kill the horse, do they? Is he okay?”

Vegeta shrugged. “Have to wait until tomorrow.”

“You’re all against me!” She cried and slumped over my shoulder. “I’m not tired yet. I don’t want…” She yawned, “To sleep yet. I have to know what happens…” she was asleep before we were even in the bedroom.

It had been clear to us for a while that this house was far too small. There was clearly not enough room to house this many people. This would be even more apparent as the triplets got older, I assumed. Vienna would need her own room eventually. And there just wasn’t another room to give her.

For now, they all slept in the same room. As cramped as it was, they didn’t seem to mind all that much. The boys shared a bunk bed, which I had taken from Chi-Chi house while she was out shopping. It was partially mine anyway, wasn’t it? And she wasn’t using it. As for Vienna, she slept in a bed that Trunks had used when he was little.

We put them to bed, which was surprisingly easy, compared to most nights.

Once outside their bedroom, we stared for our own room.

“I think we should paint the triplet’s room.” I said suddenly.

“I’m allergic to work.” He answered immediately.

“Come on. It could be fun.” I wrapped my arms around his waist, pulling him towards me. I began to whisper in his ear. “We could have Gohan baby sit them, and we could paint. Then afterwards, we could come back in here…” I trailed off and let him think about it for a moment.

He cleared his throat anxiously.

“And we might just hold each other…” I stared down at him, my arms looped around him, resting on the small of his back. Then, when I roughly grabbed his ass, he gasped in spite of himself. I pulled his much smaller frame to my own.

“Kakorot!” He growled and pushed my hands away.

“And we could lie on the bed,”

He apparently didn’t realize how close we were to the bed, for he seemed surprised when I pushed him down onto it.

“And we could take off each other’s clothes…” I demonstrated by pulling off my shirt. His hands roamed across my chest as if he couldn’t help himself. I slipped my fingers into his pants and pulled at them a little.

He seemed pretty willing to do whatever I wanted tonight, for he needed very little coaxing.

I pulled off his shirt, savoring his tight muscles that flexed and relaxed with every move he made. I finished by taking off his pants and tossing them onto the floor.

He watched me as if he was expecting me to do something that was going to upset him and excite him at the same time.

“And maybe we’ll kiss…” I went on and pressed my lips to his. He kissed me back, hungrily trying to egg me on. I stuck my tongue in his mouth. He sucked on it, nipping slightly.

I pulled away to talk some more, and he continued down my neck. A little distractedly, I said, “And I might hold you down,”

I pinned him to the bed. I could see the curiosity as well as the slight annoyance building in his eyes.

“Or maybe I won’t,” I let him go and laced my hand with his. “Who knows?”

He seemed like he was going to say something, but I silenced him with a bruising kiss.

I reached between us, grabbed one of his legs, and flipped him onto his side. I pulled away. “And then I might get rough,”

I smacked his ass hard enough to make him jerk. He had known it was coming, but had not been ready for the sheer force of it.

“Kakorot,” He snarled, aggravated, “Don’t…!”

I cut him off with another smack. “And then maybe I’ll stop.” I hit him one more time. “After one more.” I winked at him.

“I’m not going to…”

I cut him off again by turning him back over onto his back and getting right up into his face. “And then I’ll be really gentle,” I kissed the end of his nose and his forehead. I lay our clasped hands up near our heads as I ran my fingers through his hair.

I abruptly moved backwards, and settled myself between his muscular thighs. I released his hand and got my pants off quickly. It was times like these I wished I had a pair of the break-away pants, like the basketball players did.

I lay back down onto him gently, and rested my head on his chest. I listened to his heart for a moment. He seemed fidgety and unwilling to just rest for a moment.

“Can you…” I got up off him, cutting his sentence short once again.

I pushed into him rather roughly. He gasped sharply and gritted his teeth, bracing himself. “And then we’ll probably finish in a position like this.” I whispered to him and began to move.

I laced our fingers together as we went on. I hadn’t prepared him at all and hadn’t given him a warning, so at first it was rough and difficult. After a while, though, it became easier when sweat and some blood lubricated us.

I devoured his lips when he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to get past the wall of pain and find the pleasure.

I kissed his face to distract him, “You’re okay,” I muttered to him, “You’re alright… Shh, shh, shh…”

I assumed it hurt quiet a bit to make love without any kind of lubrication. But he just hated it so much when I did lubricate him; I hardly did so any more. He didn’t seem to care that I no longer used the lubrication; but when I saw that look on his face, my heart just broke for him.

After a few moments his face relaxed and he opened his eyes again. He was okay now.

He began to vocalize his pleasure. He purred and moaned my name into my ear.

This only encouraged me to move faster and to push harder.

He pushed back on me, meeting me every time in the middle.

“You think,” He began, his voice hitching every time we came back together, “It will turn out exactly like this?”

I put a hand on his hip, gripping it tightly. “Yes,” I said distractedly, “Except you might be tied up.”

He half-laughed half-gasped as he came closer to completion. “I don’t think so,” He managed to spit out before we finished.

I pulled out, but did not push off him. I lay my head back on his torso, not even caring about the cum between us that slid across my chest. I could feel his heart slowing down, until it reached a slow almost pendulum-like rhythm.

I felt myself falling asleep almost immediately.

To my surprise, he wrapped his arms around my shoulders and began to run his fingers through my hair. “Okay,” He said suddenly.

I was confused. I looked up at him. “Okay, what?”

“Okay, I’ll help paint the damned room. Wasn’t that what you wanted?”

I grinned and kissed him. “I was thinking orange.”

“No.” He said sternly. “Not orange.”

I frowned slightly. “What’s wrong with orange?”

“It’s the color of hostility.” He explained. “And besides, I don’t want to be blinded every time I go in there. Blue would be better.”

“Everyone’s room is blue.”

“It can’t be pink or yellow. Too girly.” He thought for a moment. “Purple.”

“So purple’s not a girly color?”

“Dark purple is the color of royalty.”

I shook my head. “How about green?”

He thought it over and then shrugged. “I like green.”

I smiled. “I like green too.”