Author’s note: As ten years is a big deal, I’m gifting you a Gohan/Trunks fic–if you want it. It’s actually Gohan/Trunks/Goten. I know that’s not exactly your pairing of choice, but it’s the way it turned out. Despite my best efforts, I mightadd. ^_^

Watch out for : devious Goten, incest, fucktastic language, jerking, sucking, threesome. ;-)

The first three times my phone rings, I don’t answer it. I’ve avoided going back to my dorm; Goten’s got a key and I just don’t know if I can face him right now. My life went from fucked up and predictable to just plain fucked up. I mean, Gohan was all but going to fuck me. It couldn’t have been more plain if he’d printed it out and handed it to me with my next essay assignment.

Keep screwing up, Trunks, and you’re going to get fucked. Regards, Son-sensei.

Shaking my head, I stare at the top of my to-go coffee and play with the little pop-top that forms the mouth. I ditched campus altogether for the sanctuary of a hole-in-the-wall café off a side street in town. Not my normal haunt. Goten won’t look for me here.

My phone rings a fourth time. Sighing, I flip it open and stare at the number. Of course it’s Goten. Who else was I expecting? Gohan?

That brings me up short. I really don’t know what to do, and that’s a problem. My family doesn’t deal well with variables. It’s probably the primary reason my father despises Goten’s dad. Son Goku is just one big what-the-fuck-are-ya-gonna-do-next and Papa just can’t deal. He needs routine. He needs to know when he wakes up in the morning that certain fundamental truths exist.

Like Son Gohan being a softie. Yeah, ok, he’s been a pain in my ass this semester, but I never thought of that literally.

Then there’s the bit Goten slipped in there about fucking around with his brother, and I just don’t know which way is up anymore. Nothing’s like I thought it was.

My phone chirps and I glance down at the alert. Steeling myself, I hit ok, skimming the text.

Left ur bag at ghns off. Pick up @ my apt?

Shit. I run a hand through my hair and stare at the blocky little letters. It’s only Monday; I’m gonna need about half a dozen things in that bag before Wednesday. Fucking stupid of me to have left it–

Not that I didn’t have more pressing matters on my mind. You know, like Gohan’s hard cock against my ass.

Wait, I didn’t mention he was hard? Oh, right. There was that good ole pain lancing through my arm at the time. Must’ve neglected to make a mental note of it.

Groaning, I flop back in the seat. This is just ridiculous. I’ll just be nice to him from now on. He can’t pull that shit if I don’t give him reason, right? I know I’m a cocky bastard sometimes; if I just tone it down, there shouldn’t be a problem.

Right…?

Closing and pocketing my phone, I down the rest of my cold coffee and stand. How long is that gonna last? I inherited way too many special talents from my father for that to hold. It’s like I got a gift for pissing people off. Normally, that doesn’t bother me. Today…

Things could be just a little easier and I’d be totally ok with that.

Seriously, Dende. Easier’d be awesome. I’ll bake you cookies or something the next time I see you if you’d back off on the weirdness.

Somehow, I’m not convinced he’s listening.

Goten’s apartment is in another city entirely. Flying usually helps me clear my head, but it’s not working today. Can’t fucking imagine why. Landing on his balcony, I slide the door, stepping into his kitchen. He keeps it unlocked for me so I don’t have to use the stairs and risk being seen. Having one of the most recognizable faces on the planet has it’s drawbacks, you know.

It’s dark; the light above the stove isn’t even on. But it’s clean, and that makes me pause. Goten’s apartment is never clean. Ever. It just doesn’t happen. He’s not a slob, but there are just some things Son Goten can’t do. Like keep an ordered space.

I actually have a moment where I think I’m in the wrong apartment and almost freak. Then I see the stupid little orange plaid potholders my mother got him for a house warming gift hanging on a peg by the cabinet. I didn’t even know you could hang them up. And I swear the peg is new.

My brow furrows. What the fuck is going on?

Distrust keeps me quiet; I pull the door shut silently and ease my way toward the light coming from the main room.

My ears pick up the sound of voices and it keeps me from rounding the corner. I hadn’t been concentrating on the ki around me and I know my father would have my head for it. Always a battle somewhere and all that, but it’s Goten’s place, for fuck’s sake. I don’t go around feeling everyone’s ki. That’s a hair short of molestation in my opinion.

And the reason I didn’t realize that Goten wasn’t alone in the next room.

“–think you’re being a little hard on him, Niichan.”

“He’s insolent and arrogant, Goten! He pushes my buttons–I swear he wants me to lose my temper!”

My best friend sighs. “That’s not true, Gohan. C’mon. He’s always been like that–“

“And it’s about time someone told him no. I’m his teacher, Goten. He’s got to get rid of the attitude if he wants to get anywhere in life. I don’t care if his father is the prince of the universe, that doesn’t work in the real world.”

“But you were my brother first, Niichan. Trunks has known you his entire life. It’s weird that you’re suddenly pulling rank on him.”

Gohan says something I can’t catch and the couch creaks. The refrigerator kicks on beside me, and I jump. It forces me closer to the living room.

“You’re so tense, Gohan…”

There’s a soft grunt and the sound of shifting.

“I think you’re pent up.”

“What?!”

“I said I think you’re pent up. Sexually frustrated. And I think you find Trunks-kun attractive.”

I blush so deep I hardly feel like myself. Deny it, Gohan. Tell your perverted little brother that he’s wrong.

“I think that’s why you’re so hard on him because deep down inside you want to fuck him.”

I fix a hand over my mouth to keep from making a sound. Dude! Goten!

“Goten!”

“It’s true, isn’t it? That’s why you freaked out when he said the thing about sucking you off. Because you liked the idea a little too much and you think it’s wrong to want one of your students. Even if it’s Trunks-kun.”

“G-goten!” Gohan stammers. I hope that’s indignation in his voice. Please, Dende. It’s impossible to tell without seeing his face and I can’t risk being seen after all this.

Goten, I’m so going to kill you. You set this whole thing up. I should’ve known. I, of all people, know the innocence gig is just an act. You learned from the best.

“C’mon, Niichan,” Goten says. There’s a whining note in his voice that sets my instincts on edge. I know this tone. He wants something. “I don’t like that you guys aren’t getting along. He’s my best friend and you’re my brother. I hate feeling like I’m in the middle of it.”

Gohan’s voice softens. “Goten, I–“

“Is there anything I can do to help? I wouldn’t mind…”

“Goten…”

“Shhh, Niichan. You need this, believe me. You get so aggressive when you go too long. That’s not good for anybody.”

“Go–“ Gohan’s breath hitches tellingly. Oh my fucking–he’s not, is he? IS HE?

I don’t know whether to turn my ass right around or walk into the living room. Unless I’m a complete fucking perv, Goten’s in there jerking off his brother.

My legs feel a little shaky. I mentioned that thing about Son on Son, right? How it’d be the ultimate porn? Hardly matters that Gohan’s my nemesis–he’s gorgeous. They all are. If I’m cursed with a sarcastic wit, the Sons are blessed with sexiness.

For, like, the fifteenth fucking time today, I don’t know what to do.

“Come on,” Goten says with odd clarity that makes me think he’s not just talking to his brother. “You know you want to. I won’t tell anybody…”

Removing my hand from my mouth, I take a shallow breath. I’m not used to Goten taking control. It’s bizarre. I’m usually the one piloting the schemes.

“It’ll be our secret.”

Gohan chuckles. “Goten, don’t make it sound so dirty.”

Yeah, Goten. Don’t make it sound so much like a porno. You’ve got a rapt audience of one over here and I don’t need the melodrama, just the small erotic noises you’re wringing out of your brother.

Aw, fuck. I’m hard. This is somehow worse than being tossed around in Gohan’s office. This I can control. I could walk away. Unlike this afternoon, there’s nobody twisting my arm.

And that’s so much incredibly fucking worse I can’t even explain it.

“Close your eyes, Niichan. Yeah, that’s better. See? You’re already relaxing–well, in a manner of speaking.” He fucking giggles.Giggles! Goten, you shit!

“I guess…you’re right, Goten. I’ve just been–“ his breath catches and he sighs. “–really tense lately.”

“I know,” my best friend says quietly. “But you need to stop taking it out on Trunks-kun, Niichan. He thinks you hate him.”

“I don’t hate him.” Gohan’s voice has lost its strength, pulling me to the edge of the wall. If I go any further, I’ll be seen.

I wish I knew if that was a good thing, or a bad thing.

“He’s just too pretty.”

“Yeah…I like to look at him, too. You looked good today in your new clothes, Gohan. I heard some of your students talking about it on campus.”

A soft laugh. “Really? I didn’t think it made that much of a diff…ah…mmm…”

“I’m glad you went out with me. Trunks-kun was busy all weekend writing that paper for you.”

If that’s Gohan panting, I think I might cum in my pants. I’ve never had a teacher fetish. There are hardly any professors at Curry worth lusting over; most have worked their entire lives gaining enough credentials to even apply for a teaching position. Son Gohan broke records across the board when he was hired at twenty-five. There was speculation he had talents in more than one field, if you know what I mean. But I knew better. He’s just fucking brilliant.

If I’m objectively honest with myself, that is a turn on.

“It wasn’t a bad paper.”

“So you think you’ll raise his grade?”

Shifting. “I don’t know about that…”

“You really gonna make him suck you off, Niichan?”

“Goten–“

“Well…it’s what you want, isn’t it? Trunks-kun? Would you want him dominant, or submissive?”

A growl. “Goten.”

“C’mon, Niichan,” Goten soothes. “It’s just you and me. You can tell me.”

“But you tell Trunks everything.”

“No, I don’t. I never told him that I let you fuck me.”

I fall back against the wall in shock. I’m not sure how much longer my legs’ll hold me.

Goten…I knew you were kinky. I mean, I suspected it. We never really talk about that stuff because it’s awkward. And I’m afraid we’ll end up doing something we can’t take back.

That leads me to a realization I’m not sure I’m prepared for; however, it takes full advantage of my defenseless moment to smack me across the face.

All along I thought it was Goten that wanted me, but…what if it’s the other way around? What if Goten’s so interested in his big brother that he never even thought of me like that?

He’s giving me the opportunity to find out, isn’t he? He’s laid Gohan out on a silver fucking platter and asked me if I’m hungry.

I’m Saiyan; we’re always hungry.

Closing my eyes and taking a deep breath, I try to pull on any amount of inherent dignity I possess and step into the doorway.

“I think he’d be good with his mouth, don’t you?” Goten whispers into his brother’s ear, supporting his head with his arm. Sitting on the couch beside him, pressed against him, they’re close enough to kiss. Gohan’s eyes are blessedly closed.

I swallow hard and take an uncertain step forward.

Goten smiles softly in my direction. His hand comes off his brother’s cock long enough to put a finger to his lips.

Shhhh.

Gohan turns his head that tiny bit and Goten’s eyes slide shut as their lips meet. The arm behind his brother’s head slides further; bending at the elbow, his hand caresses the skin at the man’s collar.

Gohan groans. I can’t even believe he lets his brother do this. It’s like everything I thought I knew about either of them is complete bullshit.

“Would you want him to call you sensei?”

“Yes…” Gohan whispers, so soft I’m moving closer to hear it. Around the coffee table that’s been suspiciously moved away from the couch, to Goten’s side.

“That gets you hard, doesn’t it?” Goten murmurs, his voice uncharacteristically seductive. His dark eyes flicker up to mine invitingly.

I’ve never wanted to kiss my best friend until now. Licking my lips, I lean down; he arches back to meet me, stroking Gohan who’s seemingly oblivious. I wonder if he always keeps his eyes closed when they do this.

It’s soft between us, as though we’re both uncertain. There’s none of the control he exhibits with his brother and I wonder if he’s testing me to see how I’ll respond. Putting my hand on the couch beside his head, I press my weight and deepen the kiss. His lips open willingly and his tongue is beautiful. My lips still on him, he turns his head and when we part, I can feel Gohan’s breath against my cheek. I glance at Goten, the question obvious.

He nods and licks kittenishly at my neck as I bend closer.

Gohan’s mouth is firmer, more experienced, and he draws me in. His taste is something else entirely–but mine must be, too, right? Maybe it’s that he tastes like coffee, or that he could care less about the details with his brother’s hand around his dick, that he doesn’t notice the difference between us.

Goten’s mouth on my neck makes me groan and I do a piss poor job of suppressing it. I don’t know my place in this unlikely triad; I feel like I don’t belong, like I’ve stumbled on something sacred that I don’t have a right to join. But the two of them seem content to accept me, even if one of them probably thinks I’m someone else.

My best friend takes my free hand guides it down; I start as he encourages my fingers to curl around Gohan’s cock, his hand over mine. The man against my lips jerks as I stroke him. He’s as thick as I thought he’d be, long and as well-defined as the rest of him. Goten shows me how he likes it, sets the rhythm.

Gohan’s kisses are deeper, his mouth insistent. My position is awkward, but god–so gratifying. Goten’s mouth is making me so hard I don’t trust myself. I don’t want to cum in my pants and ruin the party.

They groan simultaneously as I pull away. Straightening, I shrug off my jacket.

There’s a tiny, mischievous little smile on Goten’s mouth when he slips his hand over his brother’s thigh and parts Gohan’s legs. He arches a brow as though asking me what I want, like he’s actually offering the man up as a sacrifice.

Maybe I was wrong, or maybe it’s just not as black and white as I thought it was–you know, with Goten’s loyalties. Maybe this is just as much retribution for me as recompense for Gohan’s putting up with all my snide remarks. He doesn’t go back to the hard, thick cock that pushes up proudly through the unzipped break in Gohan’s new slacks, but gently strokes the muscle of his big brother’s thigh.

“Goten?” his brother groans, his head still titled toward his sibling.

“Shhh, Niichan…I’m just deciding what to do with you.”

And so am I, I realize. As much as it appeals to my pride, it doesn’t seem right to fuck him. Why is it now, of all times, that I’m gaining respect for my teacher?

I blush like a fucking high schooler when I think about sitting in the man’s lap and riding him like an air bike.

Goten’s smirk dissolves into another one of his cute giggles.

“What would you want Trunks-kun to do, Niichan? Would you want his ass, his mouth…” His hand teases the end of Gohan’s cock and my teacher blushes the most amazingly sexy shade of red. “His cock?”

The older Son moves his arm around Goten’s waist and pulls him tight against his side. My best friend falls forward, nearly in his lap. His smile and laughter are genuine as he bumps noses with his brother.

“I knew I could loosen you up.” He traces his fingertip over the head of Gohan’s cock, gathering a solid bead of precum and pushes it against his brother’s lips.

My mouth goes slack as Gohan sucks it off. My pants are so tight as to be uncomfortable. I try not to shift and I can’t unbutton them–not yet. There’s no way he won’t hear me do it.

“But you haven’t answered me,” Goten pouts. I want to suck it right off his lower lip. I didn’t know my best friend could be sexy. It just seemed to run counter his normal character. That logical misconception is being quickly eradicated.

Gohan releases the finger and his head falls back against the couch cushion. His chest moves with his restraint; I have to admire it. If Goten were doing half the things he’s taunting his brother with to me, I would’ve shot after the question about calling him sensei.

My teacher swallows; his hand moves under Goten’s shirt to pet his side.

“You’re going to tease me relentlessly until I tell you, aren’t you,” he says, quiet and breathless.

“I know you have a thing for Trunks-kun, Niichan,” Goten states matter-of-factly, looking me in the eye. “You didn’t start to hate him until his voice dropped. When he stopped wearing those over-sized Capsule Corp. shirts. When he got tall enough to look you in the eye.” He grins and licks his brother’s ear. Gohan shivers. “You said his name once when I sucked you off.”

Gohan’s eyes open; I freeze, and Goten acts quickly, moving in front of him, his knee between his brother’s legs. It must have been fast enough, because the man doesn’t move.

“I did not.” His hand’s on Goten’s lower back, playing with the waistline of his pants.

“You did too. When you came. You said Trunks. I heard you.”

“I’m his teacher, Goten. It’s not right.”

“You taught me, Gohan. And you weren’t always his teacher.”

Carefully, I kneel on the floor at Goten’s back in case Gohan gets it in his head to look beyond the Saiyan black of Goten’s hair. I’ve never been so happy to see him keep it long.

“But there are ten years between us!”

My best friend laughs and shakes his head. “There are almost twelve between us.”

Gohan’s quiet for a long moment. Then, so softly, so beautifully, he states his final defense.

“I knew you were in love with him, Goten.”

I’m not sure I’m breathing and it doesn’t help that Goten doesn’t deny it. Somehow I’ve landed in this alternate universe where my biggest pornographic fantasy is commonplace, and both the stars want a piece of me.

I’m so fucking lucky. But they’re up there, and I’m down here and I don’t know exactly how to bridge the gap without killing the mood.

Goten’s shoulders are slumped, his head bowed in a way that makes me thankful I’m on the floor. I’m terrified that maybe he’s crying or something when his head pops up and his chipper voice fills the room.

“I can share, Niichan.”

Gohan laughs, running his hand up Goten’s back. “And what do you think Trunks would say to that?”

“Wanna ask him?”

“I think he might despise me after today, Goten. I wasn’t exactly…”

“Oh, come on, Gohan. He’s Saiyan, isn’t he? Are you seriously gonna try to tell me he didn’t like you being all controlling?”

“I-I don’t know,” he stutters, more like the Gohan I know.

“I think you should close your eyes and imagine it, Niichan,” Goten whispers. “Why don’t we find out?”

I meet Goten’s gaze when he pulls off his brother’s lap, sitting beside him again. He gives me an exaggerated look of relief and I almost laugh. It’s like we’re pulling the biggest prank ever and getting away with it. I just hope Gohan doesn’t kill us both when it’s all over.

“His mouth,” Gohan says, pulling our mutual attention to his gorgeous lips, full and swollen and red. I want to kiss them again. Longer, this time. Deeper.

Goten smiles like he knew all along and motions to me with his hand. Nodding, I ease forward as silently as I can until I’m between his legs, carefully not to bump his feet. Gohan’s cock may have softened a little during their heartfelt moment, but it’s quickly becoming hard again, even though neither one of us has touched it.

My best friend shifts until he’s more lying than sitting. Draping his arm over the thigh he rests on, he pulls back, making his brother widen, Gohan’s body sliding down the couch so his hips are higher and he’s more accessible.

It’s obvious Goten’s done this before. Even more so that they’ve done it together. Gohan responds to every touch like he’s just waiting for the request.

“Pull down your pants,” he says to me. I sit back as Gohan’s hips jerk upward and he maneuvers the material further down his thighs. I lick my lips, slowly undoing the top button of my pants. Goten watches me with a flushed, expectant expression. His mouth is open just a little; the tip of his pink tongue licks his lips in response to me.

Almost absently, he strokes his brother. Slow. Steady. Not nearly enough to get him off. Enjoying the attention, I release the next button, then the third, teasing him. He nods a little, his eyes lidded. I hook my fingers in the waist of my pants, and push them and my boxers down to my knees.

“That’s nice,” he breathes, squeezing Gohan’s cock as he stares at mine. I don’t dare touch it. I’ll fucking explode, I know it.

He gasps suddenly, arching his back and it’s not until he glances over his shoulder and I follow that I realize where Gohan’s hand is and it’s not on his brother’s back. He parts his legs as best he can, one falling over the side of the couch, foot braced against the floor, pushing back to meet the fingers that fuck him. His hand leaves Gohan long enough to tear open his pants, giving him better access.

Resting his head on Gohan’s thigh, Goten licks at his brother’s cock. The man above us releases a long, low groan. Leaning forward, I meet my best friend halfway; I can taste the dark, musky Saiyan flavour on his tongue.

He pulls back, his cheeks pink, the motion of his hips making his eyes lose their focus. I think he might be close to cumming. It’s such a pretty picture. I can’t believe I never noticed it before–

“Do it,” he mouths, moaning loudly as Gohan’s fingers find a particularly good place inside him. His eyes narrow for a split second and he puts his hand on Gohan’s chest, keeping him down.

I got it, Goten. You keep him still. I’ll make him cum.

I pause over the wet head of Gohan’s cock, but only for a moment. It’s not that I’m intimidated, though he’s thick as a horse and about as big. I’m just not sure how fast to finish him. Goten’s been teasing him for the better part of an hour, or something. I’m no novice to it; while I haven’t had any relationships, there’s this guy in my Business Law class that I have a love/hate arrangement with on occasion. I’m thankful for the practice as I lean down and take the first few inches of Gohan’s cock in my mouth.

His hips jerk and he fills me; I’m good for maybe thirty seconds before a particularly powerful thrust makes me lose my balance and I instinctively use my hands on his thighs to steady myself as his cock falls out of my mouth.

None of us move.

I glance up through the lavender of my hair. Goten’s eyes are unfocused and adoring, his breathing rapid and shallow. Gohan’s fingers must be made of gold. My gaze flits sideways to his older brother.

My teacher.

The shock on his face is priceless.

I smile the slightest bit, flicking my tongue out to lick the tip of his dick.

“Sorry, sensei. It won’t happen again.”

His mouth opens to speak, but Goten gets there first, kissing his brother frantically, one of his hands over Gohan’s, pushing the man’s fingers deeper into his ass.

Dende-sama, Goten. You are fucking delicious. About as good as the cock I wrap my lips around. I’m sucking with a purpose now; Gohan may have a problem with my identity for all of a minute, but then his hand’s in my hair, keeping me down, commanding my mouth.

He’s hot and hard and thick and I guess maybe I am a good cock sucker. I don’t even think about stroking myself; I don’t want it to end.

Surprisingly, Goten cums first. Pressed against his brother’s chest, he meets Gohan’s hand hard, then stills as he shoots, his face twisted and pretty, biting his lips and moaning aloud. He collapses on Gohan’s thigh, panting, inches from my face.

Then he giggles. “I think I got some in your hair, Trunks-kun.” And he starts to lick at my cheek.

Gohan releases a shuddering breath. He’s gotta be close. If he weren’t such a Saiyan masochist he’d’ve cum at least half a dozen times by now. Goten nudges me with his nose. Pulling up, I meet his lips around the head of sensei’s cock, kissing him as best I can.

The fingers in my hair tighten. I think Gohan likes to watch. Maybe more than getting sucked off?

I’m game to find out.

Goten’s tongue is agile and talented. His kisses are open and willing and playful. Gohan’s cock is still between us, but no longer the center of attention.

He has a hand on each of us, petting Goten. Gripping my hair. I wonder if he likes the feel of it between his fingers.

Goten’s kisses become more insistent; he sits up, pushing my head back, away from his brother. The hand in my hair falls to my shoulder. It’s like I can’t open my mouth wide enough, or my best friend can’t get enough of me. Gohan’s legs part wider as Goten slides off the couch and onto the floor beside me.

It’s nothing like I ever thought it would be. He’s not something I have to worry about corrupting, not as pure as maybe I’d imagined. His mouth is eager and hungry. His hands tug at the hem of my shirt and I lift my arms obediently, breaking the kiss long enough to have it pulled off me.

Gohan starts to jerk himself off and I don’t think he’s out to break any records. His breathing is sharp and uneven, eyes wide open. I meet his gaze for an instant when Goten pushes my head to the side and devours my neck.

I gasp. Gohan’s lips part slightly, then he tenses–

And coats me with several bursts of thick, white cum.

Goten covers my mouth, sucking it off my lips, licking it off my face. Gohan pants raggedly, sexy as the disheveled professor.

“How was that, sensei,” Goten taunts, playing it up. “Worth at least an A?”

His brother swallows, takes a shuddering breath. I’m really wondering what the fuck he’s going to say about all this. I’m covered in his cum–he can’t really be angry with me.

I’m finding it difficult to speak. One, because I have a raging boner that no one’s bothered to notice and two, because I’m not sure what one’s supposed to say in this situation. It’s not something anyone ever thought to teach me.

I’m learning as I go, here.

Then Gohan’s eyes narrow, giving me the same look I got in his office. Something so Saiyan I can’t believe it comes from him.

His voice is low, measured, and so fucking seductive I can’t believe it comes from Son-fucking-Gohan.

“If he jerks off, I might consider it.”

Goten grins as he looks sideways in my direction. Standing, he tugs on my arm.

“Can I help, Niichan?”

Gohan’s lips curl in a smile as I stand. “Of course.” He gives me a once-over that makes me wonder what fucking him would be like, if that’s the look he gives me for a jerk.

Goten helps me out of my pants entirely, his hands soft, light, and loving. I can’t believe how much he enjoys it. He places my feet shoulder-width apart between Gohan’s legs and I think I might actually blush at being displayed.

The older Son sits back with a satisfied smile.

“He wants you to cum on him, Trunks-kun,” Goten whispers in my ear, reminding me of his unfortunate height advantage. I swallow hard. “Put on a little bit of a show–he likes that.”

I suddenly feel like the youngest person in the room. It doesn’t matter that Goten’s almost two years younger than I am; his sexual experience is obviously way more than mine. Under normal circumstances, this would kinda piss me off.

Right now, I just feel…aw, shit. I feel virginal.

Goten wraps an arm around my waist, his body against my back supporting me. Closing my eyes, I rest my head against his shoulder and reach for my cock.

Gohan wants a show? I’ll fucking give it to him. Us princes always rise to a challenge. We won’t be outdone. Fighting, eating, fucking–it’s all the same.

I’m not faking, though. The moans are real as my hand moves up and down my dick. Goten strokes my stomach and says the dirtiest things in my ear that only makes me harder. My eyes open wide when my best friend covers my hand with his own, aiding me, pulling when I push, caressing the head.

My head falls forward and I’m panting and gasping–totally undignified–not that I can help it. And I guess Gohan’s into it because the inhuman bastard’s fucking hard again. Stroking his huge cock, with eyes for me. Kind, encouraging eyes that want to eat me whole and show me the fucking world.

I cum with a cry, my eyes shut tight, my cock pulsing. Goten guides it and I can only imagine it’s for the benefit of his brother. I’m completely spent; I go limp against him, and he leads me forward until I fall, straddled on Gohan’s lap, barely alive.

His breath is hot and he kisses me forcefully. I’m above his cock and his hands are on my hips. It must be Goten’s hand that reaches under my ass and jerks his brother dry; Gohan cums a second time, lips pressed against me, tongue taking advantage of my boneless recovery to fuck my mouth.

I pull back to catch my breath, panting. Gohan’s in a similar state and in a moment, Goten joins us, taking his former place at Gohan’s side, his arm around my waist.

I take a deep breath. “Fuck an A.”

Gohan’s smile is truly beautiful, without any of the hard lines around his eyes he’s been giving me lately. His arm winds around my waist, his fingers entwining with Goten’s.

“I think that’s at least an A plus.”

Author’s note: As ten years is a big deal, I’m gifting you a Gohan/Trunks fic–if you want it. It’s actually Gohan/Trunks/Goten. I know that’s not exactly your pairing of choice, but it’s the way it turned out. Despite my best efforts, I mightadd. ^_^

Watch out for : devious Goten, incest, fucktastic language, jerking, sucking, threesome. ;-)

Gohan’s class is first thing in the morning; I walk into it like a zombie. There’s not enough coffee in the world to counteract the night I’ve had and all I can see is Goten’s smiling face telling me what his brother’s cock felt like in his mouth.

I’m so disturbed I’m not even sure how I feel.

Sliding into a seat near the back, I rub my eyes with their fashionable dark circles and wish I was anywhere else. My cell vibrates in my pocket, but I ignore it. It can only be Goten and…I just can’t right now. I don’t even know what he’d be doing awake already. We didn’t crash until after four this morning. I left him snoring in my bed fifteen minutes ago.

I didn’t sleep at all last night.

“Good morning, class.” I jerk as Gohan enters the room. There’s something different about him and it takes me a minute to realize that his wardrobe is actually up to speed for maybe the first time in his life. No more mousy sweater vest, no more plaid blazer. I blink, looking around, thankful when I’m not the only one who notices our dumpy professor’s sudden suavity. A group of girls begins to giggle.

I feel like I’ve been thrown into another timeline, or something. As Gohan rolls up the sleeves of his crisp white button-down, sans tie, I wonder if I’m still sleeping and if any of this is real.

“I’ll be around to collect your papers. Please have them ready…”

Unzipping my backpack, I fish around for my folder. Panic hits me pretty fast when I realize that I don’t have it. It’s still on my desk, right where I threw it last night when I came back from the computer lab…

“Oh, shit,” I whisper.

“Briefs-san?” Then he’s there, a stack of papers that aren’t mine in his left hand, his right extended toward me expectantly.

I look up slowly; there isn’t enough time to turn the fear in my eyes to indignation or arrogance or any of that shit. Meeting his gaze, I just shake my head. Because what else is there to say? I had the craziest night with your little brother and it fucked me up?

Gohan’s eyes darken. He leans down, one hand on my desk, his voice close to my ear so that only I can hear him. So close I can smell his cologne.

“I need to see you after class, Trunks. Am I clear?”

I swallow hard and nod. I didn’t mean to fuck up like this and I wonder if I have time to run back to my dorm before meeting him. My integrity matters, dammit! I didn’t do it on purpose this time.

“Yes, sensei.”

He straightens, and continues down the line of desks. I watch him walk away; when I realize I’m staring at his ass, I want to die.

“Those of you who have given me your papers may leave,” he announces as he rounds the desk at the front of the room. He smiles as he lays them in his briefcase. “I’ll see you on Wednesday.”

The class is a flurry of excited talk as ninety-nine percent of students start putting on their coats, stuffing unused notebooks back into bags and hurriedly exiting the room. When it’s calmed down, I see it’s just me and this other kid on the other side of the room; I slide further down in my seat. This sucks so much.

Gohan sits at the desk and folds his hands in front on him, the very image of scholarly discipline. He’s so predictable it’s amazing, like he learned how to be a teacher from movies, or something. That’s only slightly diminished with his new threads; he finally looks going on thirty instead of over forty.

He doesn’t even look at me. “Souma-san,” he says to the other kid instead, “you realize that turning in your assignment late will automatically lower your grade by a letter?”

The blonde kid nods quietly. “Yes, sensei.”

“Is there a reason you couldn’t turn it in on time?” he asks, and it pisses me off that his voice is almost gentle. He’s never this considerate with me.

The look in the kid’s eyes is tragic; he’s obviously experienced with bullshitting his way out of these kinds of situations. I’m kinda envious. Too often I let my temper get the best of me, especially with righteous do-gooders like Gohan.

“I’ve had family troubles,” he explains softly. But he never looks at me, a sure sign that he’s lying. Someone who really had family problems wouldn’t want anyone else to know about it. Not in this school. The fact that he doesn’t acknowledge me proves that he’s full of it.

And Gohan’s buying it. I see the severity in his expression soften.

“Does this have to do with the situation you emailed me about?”

The boy nods.

Gohan sits back and crosses his legs. “I can extend your deadline until the end of the day on Wednesday. Do you think you’ll have it completed by then?”

The blonde nods vigorously. “Yes, sensei. I’m almost done with it. But it’s unedited and I didn’t want to turn it in as a rough draft.” He lowers his eyes. “I didn’t think you would appreciate that.”

I almost gag. This kid is playing Gohan like a fucking instrument.

“I appreciate your consideration, Souma-san. I look forward to reading your paper on Wednesday.” He smiles. “You can go.”

I watch the blonde gather his belongings and head for the exit. As he gets to the door, he turns.

“You look nice today, sensei,” he says with a smile, then turns and leaves.

“Oh, geez,” I mutter, shifting in my chair and rolling my eyes.

Gohan looks at me. His eyes narrow. After a moment, he gets up and closes the door.

“Trunks…” he starts, sitting on the edge of his desk. “What am I going to do with you?”

I’m torn between honesty and sarcasm, but my father’s training is strong and I can’t admit that I’m in the wrong. So I throw him a cocky smile and shrug.

“Tell me I’m a bad dog and beat me?”

He doesn’t react and I think that maybe that’s a bad sign. Sighing dramatically, I shift again, sitting up.

“Look, I wrote my paper and left in on my desk like an idiot, alright? I can go get it right now.”

The older man cocks his head, pushing up his glasses. “I’m supposed to believe that?”

I cross my arms over my chest. “It’s the truth.”

He nods slowly. “The truth. Right. The very standard that you’re known for.” Glancing down, he seems to consider something; pushing back, he sits fully on the desk, his legs hanging over, his feet barely touching the floor. He folds his hands in his lap and regards me thoughtfully.

“I can give you a choice, Trunks, and you can decide which route you’ll take.”

I swallow hard and furrow my brow. There’s something in his voice that puts me on edge and I wonder for a second or third time if I’d be able to beat him in a fist fight.

“Ok,” I say, not letting on that I’m anything but confident.

“You can take the next hour and write the paper you should have handed in today–“

“You want me to write fifteen pages in an hour?” I exclaim, indignation raising my temperature and colouring my cheeks. I’m halfway out of my seat and pissed beyond words.

“Third time’s the charm?” he replies with that stupid, self-assured look he gets when he knows he’s right. My hands are in fists and I’m breathing hard.

Anger’s not just an emotion in my house, it’s a way of life. If I didn’t know better, I’d think my teacher was trying to push me over the edge.

“Or…” he dangles the word in front of me like a lifeline.

I swallow back a hot retort and grind out, “Or what?”

He smirks. “You take an oral exam right now in place of it.”

I’m fucking super-human, but I’m not awesome enough to write fifteen coherent pages in an hour. Not unless it was about how much I wanted to put my fist in Gohan’s face.

I don’t think that’d get me an A. Swallowing the angry reply that stings the tip of my tongue, I sit back in my seat. I’m sure my glare could make most of my classmates willingly sign over their inheritances.

But Gohan doesn’t acknowledge it at all. Raising a brow, he tilts his head. “Well? Which would you prefer?”

I grit my teeth, feigning civility. It must be in my eyes, though. I’m not awesome enough to mask how much I want to rip the smile off his face. My father taught me a lot of things; controlling my anger wasn’t even on the list.

“You know I don’t have a choice, sensei.”

Gohan opens his hands diplomatically. “We always have choices, Trunks. You chose to come to class without your essay. Now, instead of giving a zero for the assignment, I’m giving you the option of making it up.” His eyes harden. “Right now.”

“But what about that other kid!” I exclaim indignantly, pointing toward the door. “He gets to turn it in on Wednesday with barely a penalty while I get the fucking run around–“

“Trunks,” he snaps in a way that actually shuts me up. There’s a tone in his voice I’ve never heard before. “You will watch your language in my classroom.”

I look away. It’s not often I admit defeat, but I don’t see any way to win this without completely failing Philosophy of the Masters in Modern Technology. And trust me, students in this school don’t fail their classes. They get down on the fucking ground and lick their teachers’ shoes for a C- when it looks like all hope is lost.

“I’ll take the oral exam,” I mutter, stuffing my notebook into my bag and ripping the zipper closed.

“What was that?”

I suppress a growl. “I said I’ll take your fu–fricking oral exam.” I swallow dryly, standing and throwing my bag over one shoulder. “In your office, right?” I wait seemingly patient while he gathers his briefcase.

Man, let’s just get this over with.

I try to calm myself down as we walk across campus. There’s actually a class offered in the fall on controlling your temper in a professional environment. Unfortunately, I’m not sure it applies to those of us with inherently pissed off space monkey genetics. The only way I know to channel my anger is through my fists. I’d almost stake my entire grade on beating Gohan if it just got me out of this bizarre situation.

They’ve stuck the philosophy professors in this tiny little white capsule near the library. It’s obviously not part of the original campus. Curry College is a couple hundred years old and most of the buildings are under code and a fire hazard. Maybe that’s the real reason Gohan and I don’t settle this the good old-fashioned Saiyan way–neither one of us wants to be responsible for burning a national landmark to the ground.

I don’t hate school. Just him. And I think I’d almost be ok if he’d ditch the superiority complex. He’s ten years older than I am, not god. I’m not sure when, exactly, his attitude toward me changed. We used to get along when Goten and I were kids. Then one day a couple years ago I showed up at Goten’s house to spend the night, or something and Gohan was there. I remember he seemed surprised to see me and I said something sarcastic. That’s when he started acting like he hated me.

It couldn’t be because of that thing I said, right? That was years ago! That’d be stupid, even for Gohan. Sons are supposed to be all about forgiveness. I can’t even remember what it was, now. Probably something juvenile about a picture lasting longer.

He has the decency to hold the door for me when we walk into the department. There’s a kid I recognize as a senior holding down the fort; he looks up when we enter.

“Hey, Son-sensei,” he says. Gohan returns his greeting and the kid gives me the once-over. I’m sure he knows who I am. Everyone in the whole fucking world knows my face.

“I’ll be holding an exam in my office for the next hour,” Gohan says, taking out the keys to his door. “I’m not to be disturbed for any reason, understand?”

The senior nods obediently. “Sure thing.”

As I walk by the front desk, we make brief eye contact. It’s almost animalistic around here the way we evaluate each other. There’s a surprising absence of that in his expression, though, and I’m totally stunned when he winks at me.

“Good luck, Briefs-san.”

I frown. What the hell…then the colour bleaches from my face. Oh, shit. The kid thinks I’m gonna fuck my teacher for a better grade and he’s playing the goddamn guard.

When I said that to Gohan last week, I was only making a point that he was being unfair. I didn’t mean–

The senior laughs into his sleeve, disguising it in a cough. I think he takes my mortified look as a sign of guilt.

“Don’t worry,” he whispers. “I hear Son-sensei’s one of the nicer ones.”

My eyes shoot to the door in shock. That’s fucking impossible, right? Saint Son Gohan doesn’t let his students lay down for their grade.

Does he…?

I have to admit, it’s not exactly the best kept secret around here. It’s common knowledge that some of the teachers have a kinky interpretation when it comes to extra credit.

But Gohan…?

I’m wondering how fast I can fly the fuck out of here when Gohan pops his head through the door and beckons me with a gesture. He doesn’t even speak. I wonder if this time Briefs Trunks is truly fucked.

Damn you, Goten. I fucking hate you right now for even making me consider following through. I can’t believe you’ve actually done those things with your brother.

I can’t believe that I jerked off to it after you’d fallen asleep. I’m not usually that easily turned on. But Son on Son? That’d get any guy with a pulse, let me tell ya.

The cell phone in my pocket vibrates again as Gohan shuts the door behind me. Ignoring it, I slip my bag slowly off my shoulder and swallow.

I feel really insecure right now. This isn’t like fighting. I don’t know the rules here. Papa never prepared me for subtle subversion like this; we princes go in fists blazing.

Gohan gives me a glance, gesturing to the empty chair in front of his desk. It’s a small office predictably filled with books and stacks of papers. He’s like his brother that way, but more organized. The only window is to my left. A part of me dies when he walks over and pulls the blinds, obscuring a nice, public view of the quad.

“I don’t want any distractions,” he explains, taking a seat behind his desk. I’m shocked at how clean it is. I mean, there’s no indication that he was working on anything. No post-it notes, no empty coffee cups. Not even a family photo.

I sit carefully on the edge of the chair.

His eyes narrow uncharacteristically. I never knew how much I used that dopey smile of his as a support. This almost Saiyan look he’s got throws me.

“You look nervous,” he says quietly.

I summon my charisma to deal with my lack of confidence. “Well, I’m assuming it’s cumulative which means I only have five hundred pages of reading that I didn’t memorize before I got here to contend with.” I toss him a shitty smirk, flopping back in the chair, my arms thrown over the rests. “Oh, sure, I feel on top of the world.”

He folds his arms loosely.

“Explain Tekko-sensei’s worldview and how it affected the advancement of society during his time.”

I grin. I’ve got this one. “Hai Tekko saw living things as little more than machines. By building primitive robots he was able to liken human anatomy to that of an artificial being, bringing civilization out of the supernatural stage and pioneering the Age of Medicine.”

He nods the slightest bit. “What was his greatest obstacle?”

“Idolatry. The recreation of human imagery was forbidden by their religion. He was almost executed four times for being a heretic when all he was trying to do was stop ‘doctors’–“ I put the word in quotes, “–from cutting up people who had the flu to appease the spirit world.”

Gohan’s expression hasn’t changed. It’s alarmingly neutral.

“Five times,” he corrects.

I wave my hand dismissively. “Four. Five. Whatever.”

“What is his legacy?”

I cross one leg over the other and shake the hair back from my face. I’m getting over this weirdness in my gut and feeling more myself. I guess sometimes an oral exam isn’t a euphemism for sucking off your sensei.

I knew Gohan’d be too fucking pansy to try that shit.

We go back and forth like this for the next fifty-five minutes. He’s punctual, I’ll give him that. When it hits the hour mark, he lets me finish my answer, then leans down to retrieve his briefcase, flipping it open and taking out the stack of essays. I sit there for a moment while he continues to ignore me.

“And?” I quip. “Is that all?”

He glances up over his glasses through the bit of black that falls forward in his eyes. The pen in his hand pauses over the first paper.

“You can go.”

I’m so confused. Brow drawn, I stand, gathering my bag. I stop with my hand on the door.

“That was worth at least a B.”

He stops, focused forward on his desk. Arching a brow, he scribbles something in the margin of an essay.

“C minus.”

“What?! ” I want to ascend in ways that I haven’t wanted to do since I was a kid learning to control my power. “How was that a C minus? I answered all your questions–“

He puts his hands on his desk and stands and I hate that he’s taller than I am, even leaning forward. There’s a bite in his voice and a sharpness to his eyes.

“You neglected the most important mechanisms for the Technological Revolution, thought Doctor Gero was a carbonated beverage–“

“Oh, come on,” I bark. “I was kidding, for fuck’s sake!”

I swear there’s blue in Gohan’s double-black eyes. He stands to his full height. I know if we were anywhere but in his office, he’d have me on the ground and bloody. I’m starting to think that’s all he really wants from me, anyway.

So why play it safe with nothing to lose?

“Why the hell do you hate me so much, Gohan?” I drop my bag and face him completely. “What about me gets your fucking panties in a bunch, huh?” I step toward him, and plant my pointer finger in his chest. He barely moves; his eyes are seething.

“What about me pisses you off so much you can’t stand the sight of me?” I hiss. My eyes narrow balefully up at him. I adjust my weight evenly on both feet in case he decides to strike. Office or not, I wouldn’t put it past him. I think I’m really pushing his buttons.

He moves faster than I ever would have given him credit for. But then, we haven’t sparred in over three years. And I’m not keeping up with it like I should.

I’m face down against his desk, someone’s unfortunate essay crumpled against my cheek. My arm’s twisted behind my back and pulled painfully; I gnash my teeth as he hikes it higher. His other hand is against the desk by my hip. The weight of his body holds me down.

“You don’t know when to leave well enough alone, do you, Trunks?” he growls. I’ve never heard him use a tone like this. It’s low and feral. I realize a second later what it reminds me of–my father.

“You think I hate you? That’s the reason I push you away? The reason I provoke you?”

I crush a cry as he jerks my arm, tossing my head. I swear to Dende the damn thing’s gonna break. “Gohan!”

He makes a low, Saiyan sound in the back of his throat that makes the hair on my body rise.

“You want an A, Trunks? Does it mean that much to you? Because I’ll give it to you…”

My eyes sting with the pain; my other arm is trapped beneath my body and I can’t move out from under him.

My sense of reality shifts when he kicks my legs apart. I jerk my head up, twisting around as best I can to look at him.

His eyes are blue and there’s something so incredibly Saiyan about him I don’t breathe.

“Oh, shit,” I whisper.

I’ve never been so happy to hear a knock before in my life. His eyes flash to the door and his lip curls. The hand on my wrist tightens and I stifle another cry of pain. For a moment, I’m absolutely positive he’s going to ignore it and fuck me anyway.

I swear that’s the look he gave me. Son Gohan wants a piece of my ass. I can’t even–

“Son-sensei? I’m sorry to bother you, but it’s been an hour and you have an urgent visitor.”

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath; when they open again, there’s no trace of blue.

“I’ll be out in a moment.” His voice is tight, but calm.

Contorted painfully, I can’t see the look he gives me. But I feel the pressure of his body intensify briefly.

“You’re lucky in ways you can’t even imagine, Trunks,” he whispers close to my ear. I feel his weight on my back, his leg between mine and I honestly couldn’t tell you if it turns me on, or not. I’ve always thought of him as such a pushover, this new personality does not compute.

Maybe this is what Goten was talking about. Maybe this is the dominating sex demon that lets his brother suck him off?

He lets me up without another word. My shoulder fucking hurts, but I don’t rub it. A Saiyan prince shows no weakness. Clenching and unclenching my hand returns feeling to the limb; I stand and move away from his desk. No matter what my pride dictates, I just can’t look him in the eye.

“Get out of my office,” he says, his tone low with warning. Nodding, I find the door. I feel like I should be pissed off, but all I can register is relief as I leave.

I think I got off easy, or something. Like suddenly Son-fucking-Gohan is a force of nature that almost ripped me to pieces, but didn’t.

“Trunks-kun!”

Goten’s high-pitched call wrenches me back to the present. I stare at the wide blacks of his eyes like we’ve never met. His brow pinches with confusion and he steps closer with concern.

“Goten? What the hell are you doing here?”

“I brought your paper,” he says, thrusting the folder toward me. “You left it on your desk this morning. I tried calling you, but you didn’t pick up.”

“Cell phones aren’t permitted in the classroom,” Gohan’s dark voice says behind me. I swallow hard and look toward the door of the department. I need to get the fuck outta here.

“Niichan…” Goten closes his mouth and pulls his lips inward, my essay still extended. His gaze goes back and forth between us and I can’t stop the blush that rises to my cheeks. It doesn’t matter that we didn’t do anything. I feel like I’ve bent over for him anyway, and thanks to the grinning work study student, the whole campus’ll think so, too.

“I’ve got to get to my next class,” I say lamely, pushing lightly past my best friend. I’m trying to play it cool, but every muscle in my body is tense, like Gohan might decide at any moment that I’ve committed some unspeakable act that can only be cured by pinning me to another piece of furniture.

I should have known when he split my lip last week. The way he’d thrown me against that wall was harsh, even for a Saiyan. It was an outburst befitting my father, not my friend’s passive push over of an older brother.

Or at least, that’s what I thought he was. Now? I’m not so sure.

That conundrum follows me all the way to Bio-chem where I take the next hour and a half to contemplate the bizarre complexities of Son Gohan.

Author’s note: As ten years is a big deal, I’m gifting you a Gohan/Trunks fic–if you want it. It’s actually Gohan/Trunks/Goten. I know that’s not exactly your pairing of choice, but it’s the way it turned out. Despite my best efforts, I mightadd. ^_^

Watch out for : devious Goten, incest, fucktastic language, jerking, sucking, threesome. ;-)

“Retrospectively it wasn’t the brightest thing I’ve ever done,” I admit sarcastically.

“That’s obvious,” my best friend states, wincing with me as I pull the towel away from my split lip. “What’d you do to piss him off, anyway?”

I raise my brows, testing the broken skin with my tongue. “I didn’t do anything. I just…said some stuff and he flew off the handle.”

Goten sits back and his expression falls. “Niichan doesn’t just ‘fly off the handle’, Trunks-kun.”

Rolling my eyes, I sit back. Ok, so I lied. Just a little.

“You provoked him, didn’t you?”

“Ok, now wait a second!” I protest. I can hear the accusative tone in his voice and it kinda pisses me off. I mean, I’m the one bleeding! “We were just working and joking around and stuff and the next thing I know he’s got this crazy look in his eye and I’m up against the wall, ok?”

Goten blinks. I sorta hold my breath. His eyes narrow just that little bit and I know I’m fucked.

Sometimes I really hate having a best friend that’s known me as long as he has.

“You’re so full of shit, Trunks-kun.”

I deflate against the back of the couch and tongue my lip.

“No fucking sympathy, eh? You friggin’ Sons are thicker than thieves.”

He quirks me a smile. I avert my eyes. It’s the most unfair thing on the planet. The way they defend each other really irritates the shit outta me. I mean, Goten should be loyal to me. I stick my neck out for him all the time, defending him. Ok, so I’m the one that gets him on the chopping block most days, but that’s not the point!

“He’s my brother, Trunks-kun–“

“Yeah,” I snap, tossing the towel onto the chaos of Goten’s coffee table. It’s cute he finally has his own apartment. Even if it is just two rooms and the couch I’m on is also his bed. I rest my elbows on my knees and run my hands through my hair.

I hear him sigh. He never knows what to do when I’m annoyed and it agitates him. He rubs his palms over the torn knees of his pants and gnaws on his lower lip.

“So what’d you say to him?” he ventures, scratching the top of his head. He’s grown into the very image of his father and I know it’s really unnerving to just about everyone but me. I’m almost done being angry; I exhale heavily and flop backward, my fingers linked behind my head.

“Some stuff. He was being really wishy-washy about what he wanted, so I told him to grow a pair–but I was just kidding!” My lip throbs and it occurs to me that I probably got off lightly.

“Trunks-kun…” Goten says quietly. And I know it’s coming. The voice of my conscience.

“He’s your teacher, right?”

I shrug. I could give a shit. The only voice of authority I listen to is my father’s and it’s for the simple reason that I know he wouldn’t settle for a busted lip if I ever mouthed off to him.

“So?” I ask scathingly. “I stayed after class to ask him about the midterm because I missed Monday and he started to lecture me about taking responsibility and shit–“

“I thought you were ‘working and joking around’,” Goten pointed out.

“Ok, I lied,” I admit, raising my hands defensively. “But if you’re gonna use the teacher excuse, then he shouldn’t’ve fucking hit me, right?”

My best friend shakes his head, twisting from his perch on the table to drop beside me. He rests his head against my shoulder and closes his eyes.

“You provoked Niichan because he pulled rank on ya, huh?” He wraps his arms around one of mine; the top spikes of his hair tickle my nose.

I jerk a shoulder dismissively. “Maybe.” I clear my throat.

He looks up at me, his eyes dark and wide and soft. I swallow, but it’s hard. I hate that he can do this to me.

“You’re supposed to respect your teachers, Trunks-kun.”

Setting my jaw, I look away, across the stack of video games, open text books, and a half-eaten donut. The place is a wreck. I have no doubt that Goten knows exactly where everything is. That’s the amazing thing about him. He can take a cluster fuck of confusion and make sense of it. Like me, for example.

“You’re not my fucking mother,” I grumble. It’s kinda pathetic and Goten laughs and squeezes my arm.

“Thank Dende-sama. The idea of seeing your father naked scares the shit outta me.”

There’s an injustice to the fact that Son Gohan is a teacher at my college and it’s only compounded by the fact that I’m in one of his classes. Objectively speaking, maybe it’s not so surprising. Curry College is ranked one of the best in the world. It’s only natural that I’d go there, right? The science building’s even named after my grandfather and Capsule Corporation’s given so much money to the place I should be able to go there for free.

But I don’t. What I’m saying is it’s hard to get into. And I hear they’re even more selective about their faculty than they are their students. So the fact that I’m-a-genius Son Gohan works there isn’t so surprising.

This doesn’t stop it from pissing me off, though.

See, when I went to college it was my big break. Away from my parents and all that Capsule Corp. stuff. I’m not the only celebrity at Curry, so it’s pretty much a given that you leave that shit at home. I was totally into that. I even started living in the dorms. I want to be my own person. Don’t worry, I wasn’t having a crisis or anything, I just didn’t want to be defined by my family’s business. Curry offered me that. It still does. But when I left it all back in West Capital, I really meant all of it. Aside from seeing Goten on the weekends, I hit the books hard and didn’t look back.

Because maybe I didn’t want to spend my life in the workshop. I like machines and shit. That’s not the point. But between my mother’s machines and my father’s insistence that strength was everything, I got tired of it. I’m my own person. I’ll do whatever the hell I want.

My first year was awesome. I knew that Gohan worked on campus; it’s a small college. But I didn’t have him for classes and avoided him like the plague. The last thing I needed in my life was someone who had known me since I was a fucking toddler. I made a few new acquaintances, but kept to myself for the most part. That’s another thing we do here. See, when we all get into the big, bad world and inherit our family biz, there’s a huge chance we’re gonna be grandfathered in as enemies, you know? So it doesn’t pay to get close to someone you’re gonna need to backstab later.

Then came Son-fucking-Gohan acting from the first day like he’d known me forever. Fourth semester in and I’m riding high until I read his name on my syllabus. This proves my theory about conspiracies involving the TBA column under instructor when you sign up for a course. I never would have taken his class if I had known he was the teacher. I don’t need that drama in my life; like it or not, it’s genetic with those damn Sons. They can’t pretend. Each and every one of them wears their hearts on their sleeves. Like Goten, for instance. I know he’s got it bad for me. It’s so stupid-obvious. Not that I’m gonna do anything about it. And fuck up everything? Are you kidding?

His father’s the same way. Son Goku, regular emotional basis for everything he does. It’s almost sad how simple they are. Gohan’s the same way; there’s no mistaking how he feels about me.

He hates me. Whenever he sees me he gets, like, this look in his eye halfway between dread and disgust. Like he can’t believe he has to deal with me.

So of course I tell him to shove it every chance I get. You think I’m gonna take that? Seriously? He’s been giving me a hard time since day one. Everything I turn in to him isn’t good enough; I know he grades me harder than everyone else. I’m the only one sliding by with a C. And that’s fucked up because I know I work harder than most of them.

I’m not a fucking scholar. Come on. I hang out and socialize. But I know what I’m there for, too. And if he fucks it up by bringing down my GPA, I’m gonna lose it.

Royally.

It’s ultimately because of him that I’m still on campus this late on a Friday. My fucking computer crashed last night; I can fix it, but it’ll take me a couple of days, and I’ll be damned if I give him any more reasons to fail me by not turning in my assignment on Monday.

So it’s me, a quiet computer lab, a smuggled cup of coffee and the ancients tonight. Generally speaking, I love the classics. There’s so much bullshitting in philosophy that I feel right at home. Usually. You know, when I’m not trying to impress Mister Stick-up-the-ass who thinks I’ve gotten as far as I have by charisma alone.

If that were the case, I’d go to bed more often with a warm body instead of a cold book, you know what I mean?

I rub the bridge of my nose and adjust my glasses. I hate that I need them for reading; I thought being half super-human meant not having to have things like glasses or braces or whatevers. But Goten still doesn’t let me live down that I wear a retainer at night, the last vestiges of the metal-mouth of my youth. So much for being super-human.

Linking my fingers, I arch them away from my body and feel them crack. I’ve been at this shit for hours and I’m really ready to be done with it. I had more than twelve pages written when my computer kicked it and just the thought of that injustice makes me want to go ballistic. One of these days I should just make like my father and tell the whole world to fuck off. Wouldn’t that be awesome?

Groaning, I down the last of my coffee and stare at the bottom of the empty cup. The campus café has long since closed and the last classes are getting out for the weekend; the occasional student walks by the glass windows of the computer lab, mostly on cell phones. Thinking of it, I check my own but all that’s there is a predictable text from Goten about meeting up tomorrow. I briefly consider calling it quits for the night before thinking better of it. If I stop now, I won’t get back to it and it’ll be Monday morning before I know it.

And I’ll be screwed.

No way in hell I’m letting him win by doing exactly what he expects me to.

“I’m gonna need more coffee…”

I hear his voice before I see him; I sulk a little down in my chair and hope he doesn’t see me.

With hair like mine? Dream on, Trunks…fucking. Dream. On.

“I’ll see you on Monday!” A student trots by the room, fishing through her bag and pulling out a phone. I wait, hands paused over the keyboard, for Gohan to follow.

Is Dende out to lunch, or something? What the fuck?

“I’m surprised to see you here so late.”

I don’t turn. I flip through the book at my side instead and pretend to read.

“Yeah, well, I had a date with the Masters I couldn’t pass up.”

He walks into the lab; I see him out of the corner of my eye in his pressed khakis and his sweater vest looking so much older than he is.

“You’re working on your paper?”

I turn another page and jot something illegible down in my notebook.

“Last I knew, you hadn’t changed the due date.”

His brow furrows. He rests his weight against the table further down and puts his coat and briefcase in the chair beside him.

“You’re not just starting it, are you?”

I grit my teeth and the corner of my eye twitches in irritation. I really don’t need this right now.

“Actually, I am. Is there a problem, sensei?”

There it is. That look. I wanna just rip it off his face and feed it to him.

“Trunks, do you really think three days is going to produce the kind of quality required? I gave you three weeks to work on this.”

I take a deep breath; it takes everything I have not to slam the book shut and leave. Or beat the shit out of him. I’m kinda undecided.

Turning in my seat, I face him.

“I had twelve pages written before my computer crashed last night. I am well aware of the deadline and the likelihood that you’re gonna take one look at this and tell me it’s shit anyway,” I say tightly. “But it’ll be done, ok?”

Gohan’s look changes subtly. I can’t tell if he buys it or not. It’s the actual truth this time; not that it matters. Pushing up his glasses, he sighs quietly and stands.

“Trunks…I know you probably think I’m treating you unfairly–“

“Wait,” I interrupt, holding up a hand. “Just so I’m clear–are we talking about the way you ride me in class, or the fact that you punched me earlier this week?” I smile sweetly. “I’m just curious.”

The older man’s eyes narrow; it makes my blood quicken and my fighting instinct kicks in. I’d really be happy to settle this right now, fist to fist. This weird civilized game we’re playing’s only gonna last so long anyway.

He folds his arms over his chest. “What you said to me was highly inappropriate.”

I bark with laughter, cocking my head. “Really? I think it was a valid suggestion considering the way you’ve been treating me.”

His face darkens with embarrassment. “I know what you’re capable of and I don’t think you’re living up to your potential.”

“That’s a clichéd line of bullshit, Gohan,” I reply, standing and facing him; he’s taller than me by a handspan. I wonder how we match in strength. “And I was serious about what I said. I feel like the only way I can get an A in your class is on my knees.” I brace my hands on my hips. “You’ve torn apart every fucking thing I’ve written for you this semester like I’ve personally offended you, or something.”

“Is this how you treat all your teachers, Trunks?” Gohan snaps. He’s obviously unimpressed.

“Is this how you treat all your students?” I retort. “I work my ass off in your class and you just wave me off like I’m not even trying!”

For a moment it looks like he’s gonna hit me again and I almost cringe. It doesn’t matter that I’m more than human–he’s got fists of steel and they hurt. Then that infuriating calm overcomes him. Tugging his bag and coat from the chair, he drapes them both over his arm.

“It’s obvious we have unresolved issues but I’m not going to argue with you in the middle of the computer lab. If you still feel this way on Monday morning, you can come see me during my office hours.” Turning abruptly, he stalks toward the door.

“Have a fantastic weekend, sensei!” I yell on his way out, falling back into my seat. Looking at my work, I sigh, pulling my hair back from my face. “I know I fucking will.”

“So you had to write the whole thing over again?” Goten asks, his mouth full pizza. I nod, grabbing a slice and flicking the play button.

“Yeah,” I say, my voice weighty with the intensity of it. I mean, I’m entitled to a little sympathy right now, you know? “The whole fucking thing. All fifteen pages of it.”

“That sucks,” Goten replies, sliding down beside me on the bed. It’s the only place to sit in my dorm room aside from the desk, but I wouldn’t wish hours in that chair on anybody’s ass but mine.

He munches quietly through the preview, warm against me in a borrowed pair of PJs that are a little short on him. Because it’s somehow funny to the gods that everyone I know is fucking taller than I am. My father’s genetic contribution strikes again.

I take a deep swallow of soda and settle in to enjoy the show. I’ve got at least six hours before dawn and another two on top of that before his class. I’m gonna enjoy the remainder of my weekend if it kills me.

“Did you really offer to suck off my brother?”

I snort, getting bubbles up my nose and blinking back tears.

“What?”

Goten sits up a little. “What you said earlier about why he hit you.”

“I didn’t say that!” I protest, wiping my nose on my sleeve.

“Well, not exactly,” my best friend admits with a grin. “But I’ve known you long enough to know what you really mean, Trunks-kun.”

“Are you shitting me!” I’m flabbergasted. “How the fuck did you get that out of what I said?”

He looks at me blankly and then bursts into laughter, almost falling off the bed.

“The look on your face–!” he wheezes. “That was perfect!”

Growling, I down the last of the soda and throw the can at his head. When it hits, he does fall out of the bed; I poke my face over the side and glare.

“You asked him, didn’t you?” He’s still convulsing with laughter and I barely notice that the movie’s started. “You little shit! Tell me what he said!”

Goten struggles into a sitting position and clasps his ankles like he used to do when we were kids. Wiping the tears from his eyes, he snickers.

“Well it was obvious you were lying to me, Trunks-kun, so I asked Niichan what really happened.” He sniffs with a smile, looking up at me. “He’s pretty indignant about it.”

Huffing, I flop onto my back with my head hanging over the edge of the bed. “Yeah, well it’s true. The only way I’m gonna get an A is if I bend over for it.”

Goten’s unusually quiet; I arch my back to get a better look at him. He tilts his head.

“Have you ever done it, Trunks-kun?”

There’s a sudden knot in my stomach. “Done what?”

He shrugs, pulling his legs up to his chest. “You know. That.”

Swallowing upside down is a feat, but I manage. “Uh, well. Sure. Some stuff.”

He nods like he’s thinking about it, or something. I close my eyes and try not to freak out. Goten and I have pretty much steered clear of any conversations involving sex since we realized what we were supposed to do with our hard-ons when we were thirteen. I’ve known for awhile that Goten’s affectionate tendencies are more than just friendly and I really haven’t wanted to encourage them. I mean, maybesomeday, yeah, I could see being with Goten.

But I’m nineteen for fuck’s sake. I don’t want any…weirdness…you know? Relationships are hard. My parents taught me that. They take a lot of effort. Hell, I can barely make time for all my homework. How would I make a relationship work…?

“Have you ever really thought about doing that with Niichan?”

I open my eyes slowly and they widen incredulously. I roll over onto my stomach; my head spins a little as the blood rushes back down to the rest of my body.

“Are you asking me if I want to fuck your brother?”

Goten doesn’t even have the decency to blush. See, I knew this about him. Maybe it’s because of me, maybe it’s something else, but he’s not as totally cute and innocent as he comes across.

This dialogue, though. It throws me. I didn’t see it coming at all.

“Well, do you, Trunks-kun?”

I stare. My mouth might even fall open. “Are you out of your fucking mind?”

My best friend shrugs and looks down at his feet, scratching under the elastic of his sock. “No. Niichan’s a good lookin’ guy. He’s just uptight.”

I push into a kneeling position, shaking my head. “Wait, wait, wait. Are you suggesting that I have sex with Gohan?” I look down at the person I’ve known forever like I’ve never seen him before. “Because that’s really fucked up, Goten.”

He looks me in the eye. “I’ve done it.”

I fall back on my ass. “W-what…?”

Goten licks his lips like maybe he’s not so sure now and shrugs again, rubbing the back of his neck. “We’ve done stuff together. When we were younger. We shared the same room for years…”

I don’t even know what my expression is like. I can barely breathe. “You…and Gohan?”

He shifts. “Well, yeah. We’re brothers.”

I blink. I’m kinda incoherent. “And brothers fuck each other?”

Goten actually giggles. “I don’t know. Maybe. We didn’t go that far. We just touched and stuff.” He folds his arms on top of his knees and rests his chin on them. “And a few years ago I got curious and he let me suck him off.”

I’m beyond stunned. Virtually unresponsive. Data entry invalid, please insert and try again.

“He’s kinda pretty when he gets going, you know?” he asks and I’m not sure I do know, because suddenly I’m thinking of my scholarly nemesis in a way that was a joke up to an hour ago.

Goten meets my wide eyes again and smiles. “I think you’d like it, Trunks-kun. He’s different in bed. He’s…” A pink blush finally touches his cheeks. “Kinda hot and a little controlling.”

My face is on fire. I cock my head. “Goten…do you have any idea what you’re saying?”

My best friend nods happily and gives me a secret smile. “Yeah. I’m helping you raise your grade.”

Author’s Notes: This was based off a dream I had. Will be A Truhan don’t worry about that though it might take a long time. (I don’t really have that much time to be writing this, especially when you consider the other three fics I’m writing). I apologize now that I don’t update often.

Chapter Title: A Chat and a Shower

Gohan went to school the next morning still wearing the collar. He had tried to make it look like a necklace but he really couldn’t do much about it. And Bulma had to drive him because he couldn’t fly there.

All in all the day sucked. Gohan had to deal with people staring at him, and the collar, all day. And more than a few people had tried to hit on him. For instance, the idiot bothering him now,

“Hello. Son, right? You like being collared or something? Cause I got cuffs in my car…”

Gohan had almost punched him. Instead he replied,

“No, it was a bet. You really have handcuffs? Did the cops give them to you after they arrested you?” The idiot left in a huff.

The only good thing that happened that day was that the sex-ed class had been canceled due to a lack of teacher.

Upon returning to Capsule Corps (Bulma picked him up) Gohan once again had Vegeta trying to remove the collar. Vegeta had Gohan sit down on one of the kitchen chairs while he tried to manipulate the collar without actually touching it. The thing was seamless and there didn’t seem to be a way to get it off. Eventually even Vegeta had to admit there was nothing he could do.

Gohan just shrugged it off. He was alive, he hadn’t been hurt, and while he didn’t want to be helpless, now was a great time to work on his technique and strength, without his ki. Not that that made it any better but it gave him some hope.

The day ended after he and Piccolo finished a couple hours of spar time, and dinner. Since the Son’s were still averse to returning home with Gohan in this condition, they stayed at Capsule Corps for another night.

Gohan headed off to his room after dinner finished. Once there he removed his clothing and got into the shower. While he was in there Mirai had come to say goodnight. Unfortunately this was just as Gohan was leaving the shower. Gohan walked out of the shower stall wrapped a towel around his waist and stepped out into his room. Were Mirai was waiting for him.

“Eek!” Gohan exclaimed as he saw Mirai standing there and absentmindedly dropped the towel. Mirai looked away as Gohan picked up the towel, blushing, and rewrapped it. That was not a sight that was likely to ever leave Mirai’s memory anytime soon. Matter of fact he was lodging it away for future use. Not that Gohan knew that. However, Mirai left the room to let Gohan change.

“I am dressed now.” Gohan called out to the hallway were Mirai stood against the wall. Mirai walked in. Gohan sat on the edge of his bed with a brush and the towel, trying to get some of the water out of his sponge like hair. “What did you want?” Gohan asked as Mirai walked through the door.

“Oh, I wanted to say goodnight. And ask how you were doing, we really didn’t get much of a chance to talk yesterday.” Gohan motioned for him to sit down on the chair beside Gohan’s desk, so he did so.

“Ah, I see. Well I am ok. School is definitely not one of my mother’s brightest ideas but…”

“Don’t like it much” Mirai asked leaning toward Gohan a little.

“Yeah, no one likes me cause I am much younger than every one else, and I am smarter than most of the teachers. Nevermind this collar thing that now has everyone teasing me.”

“That would be rather irritating…But there has to be someone you can talk to there. I mean seriously everyone here is much older than you and they can’t always be very good conversation.”

‘Well they are ok, but they still see me as a little kid and as such treat me that way, though Piccolo really isn’t that much older than me, but he still thinks I am the little kid he trained before Vegeta got here. I don’t think he is older than more that five or six years…

I talk to him a lot though, ‘cause he listens to me.”

“I see. Well at least Piccolo is around then” Mirai paused. “You know you can always talk to me too right?” Gohan looked up from his hair and blinked at him.

“Of course I do.” The Gohan that Mirai had left after the Cell Games would have smiled at him here, but that Gohan had changed and become this one. One who never really smiled anymore. However he did nod.

“Good” Mirai smiled. “So I met Goten earlier today.”

“Goten is way too energetic for his own good.” Gohan looked back down at his hair again. “I need a new towel.” As Gohan got up to toss the drenched towel into the wastebasket and get a replacement Mirai thought, I remember a time when you were too energetic for your own good too. What happened to you Gohan? Mirai wanted to ask, but he wasn’t sure Gohan would say, so he waited, hoping that he would find out eventually.

Author’s Note: I was trying to do some original stuff, but it was coming out weird. I thought about going ahead and doing the Goku/Vegeta one but for some reason I was more in the mood for this. I hope you guys like it, I pretty much left it at masturbation because I didn’t want it to get too serious with Vegeta and Trunks together and turn some people off.

So yeah, this was just something to distract me while I waited to get the momentum to finish the other stuff. I hope you guys like it though.

“Oh hey Gohan,” Trunks said swinging the door of the two bedroom apartment with a slight sigh of relief. “I thought you might be dad back early from training.”

Gohan let out a laugh as he walked past Trunks and into the living room of the apartment. “I was wondering why you had that constipated look on your face.” He said as he plopped down on the coach flashing the same huge grin that his father always had.

Trunks laughed back in response, closing the door of his dad’s apartment behind him. After defeating cell in the future and ensuring that things settled down he had returned to the past in hopes of getting to know his father better, since he hadn’t had much of a chance during the battle against cell. Several years had passed since his previous visit. Gohan was about the same age as he was and his past self had grown into a slightly more recognizable mini-him. They’d decided not to explain exactly who Trunks was, they figured the kid would just get confused. Vegeta had surprisingly offered to have Trunks stay with him for a while, in hopes of ensuring that his “Saiyan heritage be passed on” or some such nonsense. They occasionally trained together and spent some quality time, and it was obvious that Vegeta was making a conscious effort though his naturally withdrawn and calloused nature made his overtures somewhat clumsy.

Trunks appreciated the effort though, and loved to spend time with his father whether it was training or just hanging around the apartment and listening to stories from the Saiyan home planet. But one of the things he loved even more was spending time with his other Saiyans Goku and his sons. There were few things he enjoyed more than the six of them; Goku, Vegeta, Gohan, Goten, Little Trunks and himself venturing out into the woods during camping trips to bring back enough food to feed a city and eating it for a contest in a matter of minutes. In contrast to the difficulty of life after the androids attacked, Trunks was too happy for words.

Since Gohan and Trunks were about the same age they got along pretty well. The two of them had spent more and more time together, becoming extremely close friends. At first Trunks felt awkward, since Gohan had been his teacher during the android attacks, but he soon warmed up to this younger slightly less battle-hardened version of the half-saiyan. The two quickly became inseparable, and spend as much time as they could together, sharing every single activity they could think of.

“So, you got any new ones?” Gohan asked, his hand moving to his groin to shift things around a bit. “Or will we have to make do?”

Trunks smiled sitting on the coach next to Gohan and reaching beneath the cushions to pull out a shoe box that was filled with an assortment of DVDs. “Nah, same old same old. Take your pick.”

Gohan wasn’t the least bit shy to begin feeling himself through the thin fabric of his shorts, slowly working up an erection that, with their Saiyan blood, possibly last hours. This hadn’t been the first time they’d have a session like this. Though in the beginning it had taken several months of talking about porn and chicks before they both worked up the courage to jack off in front of each other. Now though, they didn’t give it a second thought, and their usual masturbation session occurred almost once a week. They almost always used Vegeta’s apartment, since the Saiyan Prince was usually already out training. They always had to plan a little while ahead since their Saiyan blood meant that it could take quite a while before they finally reached orgasm. And then of course, there was always the cleanup.

“Uhhhh,” Gohan said to himself as he glanced through the box, simultaneously slipping his shorts over his knees. He hadn’t bothered to wear any underwear and his semi-hard dick sprung out as soon as the elastic waistband cleared it. “I think I’ll go for the nurse one.” He said scratching his balls absentmindedly before slowly beginning to pump his throbbing cock to full size.

“This one again,” Trunks said barely fazed at all by Gohan’s nudity. “You chose this one last time.”

“That’s because its my favorite,” He said with one of those huge goofy grins.

Within no time a busty babe in a nurse dress and hat was staring at them through the TV, her breasts pressed together as she talked in a high voice to some patient who no doubt she’d be servicing in the next few minutes. Trunks took his seat next to Gohan, their legs touching slightly despite the fact he could have sat over a foot away from the other half-saiyan.

Trunks quickly threw off his own shorts, quickly catching up to Gohan as he beat his own steadily growing member. For a moment his eyes trailed off the porn playing on the screen and glanced down at Gohan’s hand furiously pumping away with super human speed, which caused him to spring to full mast in an instant. He wasn’t worried about Gohan getting wierded out, they had a mutual understanding of each other when it came to sexuality. Neither of them were really concerned about if the other thought they were gay or not, because both of them knew the other wasn’t, not that it mattered in the first place. They both understood that sexuality was a lot more complicated then “straight” or “gay” or “bi.” All they cared about was getting off, and if that meant looking at another dude’s dick, that was cool by them. After all that didn’t really count as gay if you got turned on by the sight of another guy’s penis; it was like getting happy when you look at a happy person. Neither of them held any kind of inhibitions or fears towards the other, they were just focused on having a good time and getting off.

This caused them to occasionally glance over at each other, studying and comparing each others bodies until both of them knew exactly how large the other’s muscles were, the veins in each others members, the thickness of their body hair, and the texture of their skin.

Trunks froze as he heard someone walk by the apartment door outside in the stairwell. Gohan ceased his pumping and they both scrambled for the remote. But the steps soon receded as the person climbed the stairs and both young men relaxed again. They’d managed to escape getting caught by Vegeta, though one time Goku had walked in on them. The amiable Saiyan just laughed and joined in though, happy to be part of the fun and ready to show his older son and Trunks a thing or two.

“Trunks, if you don’t hand me some of that lube I’m gonna catch on fire,” Gohan said, his eyes still locked on the screen, biting down on his lower lip and he furiously pumped. “Get some for me will you?” He asked.

Trunks sifted through the porn treasure trove of the shoebox and pulled out a small bottle of lube that he quickly squired onto his hand, reaching over without a word of warning to spread it directly onto Gohan’s pounding member, causing him to arch his back and moan in pleasure thrusting his hips forward as the stranger of Trunk’s hand moved up and down his engorged shaft. He got the same reaction every time.

Trunks withdrew his hand after completely slathering Gohan’s cock and picked the bottle back up, giving it a good hard squeeze over his hand again. He froze as nothing came out, and let out a “Shit…” He chunked the bottle into nearby wastebasket, and glanced down at his quickly softening phallus. “I’m going to go to the store and get some more,” He said standing up and pulling his shorts on over his still engorged packaged.

“Alright.” Gohan said, eyes still locked on the screen but glancing over as Trunks’ trunks came up over his pink pubes, resting on the grooves where his hips met his freakishly toned abs. “Try to come back before I run out,” Gohan said as Trunks walked in front of him. The black haired college student gave Trunks a friendly slap on the ass as he passed while he continued with his other hand.

Several minutes passed before Gohan heard the sound of someone ascending the stairs and messing with the door knob. “Wow, that took you faster than usual-” He said as he stood up and turned around, freezing as he saw a much older Saiyan emerge from the doorway. There was no time to hide his throbbing member from Vegeta. With his shorts halfway across the room the best he could have done was try to pull his shirt over himself, but there was no point in doing that since it wouldn’t help to hide anything after all. Despite his shock Gohan unwittingly continued to pump without realizing it as Vegeta glanced down at his swollen genitals.

“Gohan, what are you doing?” He said, his face filled with sudden embarrassment. But his voice was not filled with accusation, but rather confusion.

“Oh, um. Me and Trunks were just, uh…” Gohan turned around and quickly switched of the TV which was still blaring the Nurse’s erotic moans across the room. Gohan tried to turn back around and explain but couldn’t manage to spit the words out. “You know,” He said with nervous laughter, tugging on his still engorged penis a few times. He was surprised that Vegeta hadn’t exploded in response since the guy always seemed so uptight. Rather though, it seemed that Vegeta was almost completely unfazed by his nudity and more confused by his hard on. The older man still didn’t seem to understand Gohan, and he sighed before saying. “Jacking off?” Vegeta stared back with a blank expression. “Masturbating?”

Nothing seemed to be ringing any bells. “I don’t understand a word you’re saying boy.” The Saiyan Prince replied.

“You know, stroking your dick to make it feel like sex?” Gohan almost wondered if this was some kind of joke. His explanations seemed completely ridiculous.

“Don’t be preposterous,” Vegeta replied with a strained and slightly uncertain laugh. “You can’t do something like that.”

“Yeah you can,” Gohan said giving Vegeta a weird look. He still didn’t understand why Vegeta wouldn’t just fess up that he knew what he was talking about, after all “everyone masturbates.”

“Well I don’t!” Vegeta said almost defensively. He suddenly realized that Gohan was naked again and glanced down at his large package before looking back up at his face. He opened his mouth as if to ask a question and then stopped.

Gohan was steadily starting to believe that Vegeta honestly didn’t know how to “relieve himself.” As he rolled it over in his head he toyed with the idea that that may have been why the man was always so uptight. By the time Vegeta seemed to ask a question he was already convinced, and quickly asked Vegeta the question he wanted to ask. “Do you want me to show you how?”

Vegeta seemed to be at a loss of words, his mouth hanging open as he fumbled with a response. “W-why yes I would like you to. But I’ll have you know that I have no need for this sort of thing. I perfectly able of relieving myself the natural way.” Gohan let him hang on to his desperate defense and sat down on the coach, accidentally sitting on the remote and feeling the plastic against his bare ass. He reached underneath himself and pulled it out, flicking on the TV again. The moaning Nurse, who was surrounded by the entire male med bay now quickly had Vegeta at fairly hard beneath the shorts he was wearing. They seemed as if the seams were about to burst.

“Ok,” Gohan said, feeling somewhat silly for giving directions. “First you need to take that off.” He said pointing to the shorts. Vegeta quickly stripped down to a pair of boxers. “And those too.” The Saiyan nervously removed his underwear, his giant cock now at full mast and far larger than his short height would have usually advertised. As Gohan marveled at the size he was reminded of his father’s massive member. Vegeta was a very close second.

“Alright, its pretty simple.” He said, slowly pumping his own cock. “Just move your hand up and down like this.” Vegeta attempted to follow, but his motions were jerky and uncertain, and often his fingers failed to grip hard enough at some places and gripped far too hard at others. Gohan was completely amazed as Vegeta continued to attempt to jerk himself at how incredibly horrible he was at it. Vegeta grunted and stopped, his arm falling on the armchair of the coach in frustration. “I don’t really see how this is supposed to-”

“Here let me take care of it.” Gohan said, reaching over without warning as he and Trunks had done countless times and wrapping his fingers expertly around the other man’s shaft, quickly pounding away with perfect practiced precision with perfect pressure and speed.

Vegeta arched back against his coach, frozen momentarily as Gohan pumped his hungry cock, causing it to swell ever larger in the younger Saiyan’s hand. It reminded him of when his tail was pulled, except instead of being frozen in pain and shock it was pleasure. Eventually he regained control of his limbs and his hand wandered to the tangled mess of pubic hair at the base of his dick, his fingers brushing against Gohan’s thrusting fist. They traveled upwards across his compact abs, slipping beneath his shirt so that it pulled it up as he went higher and higher, his hands moving over his hardened nipples before he pulled off his shirt completely.

“I think I understand now,” Vegeta said, though it was hard for him to get his words out as he kept taking in gasps of pleasure. His hand wanadered across the gap between them before it found Gohan’s still semi-hard cock and began to jerk it in the same way Gohan did. Gohan moaned in response and his member sprang to full attention again. He got up, pinning Vegeta down as he brought their cocks together, wrapping Vegeta’s hand around both their members and pulling his hand up and down before Vegeta took over completely “There you go. See, a lot easier than you thought right?” Gohan asked with a grin. Vegeta could barely break the fog of pleasure long enough to give an answer. As he felt a climax begin to slowly rise though they were interrupted by the door swinging open again.

Both Vegeta and Gohan quickly stood to their feet, though Gohan’s dick caught Vegeta’s on the way up, causing their penises to cross, Vegeta’s supported by Gohan’s. “Trunks! I-” Vegeta fumbled looking around for something to hide his embarrassment.

“Dad!” Trunks said, hiding the lube behind his back.

“Oh sweet!” Gohan said, walking over to Trunks, his dick bouncing up and down slightly. He grabbed the bottle and put some on his hand, quickly lubing up his own cock before walking over to Vegeta. “Can you believe that your dad doesn’t even know how to jack off? I had to teach him when he caught me.” Then he realized how quiet it was. He glanced up at Vegeta and Trunks who were frozen staring at each other waiting for a reaction. “Hey, I’m not about to stop here, I was almost done.” He said, beginning to pump at his inflated phallus again. “Here Vegeta, this will make it even better,” He said spreading lube on Vegeta’s cock and giving it a few tugs to spread it around better. With that both men seemed to loosen up and Trunks hesitantly removed his clothing walking over to Gohan to get some lube and give him a reach around. Gohan returned the favor, and now had both Vegeta and Trunks in both hands, while Vegeta’s hand came over to help Trunks with Gohan. They all eventually managed to end up at the coach again one way or another and the day wore on as they thrust into each others hands. It was all a blur of stroking themselves and each other, so much so that they weren’t even sure whose dick they had a hold of by the end of the day.

All of the clothing was eventually off, and their hands wandered over perfectly formed, bulging bicepts, pectorals, and abs admiring the grooves of each others bodies and exploring every single inch. Pleasuring each other with the same things that pleasured themselves, they were lost almost entirely in their ecstasy so much none of them would ever be able to completely recall the hours that passed.

Eventually though Vegeta announced that he felt something coming and both boys got up with him, standing in a triangle their cocks pressed up against each other as they continued to pound away. “Ugh, agh, EUUUGH!!!” Vegetta screamed and the boys felt a surge of sperm move up his shaft, causing a chain reaction in their own loins as all three exploded with a massive simultaneous orgasm. Gohan’s didn’t last too long, but Trunks and Vegeta continued to shoot rope after rope of cum. Vegeta’s swollen balls let out far more than Trunks did, never having been unloaded properly for who knew how many years.

When at last they finished the room was absolutely covered. That wasn’t too unusual, but not to the degree it was this time. With Vegeta’s lingering load the place was almost entirely eclipsed. Vegeta though seemed to have relaxed to the point it almost seemed unnatural. All of his usual tension had dissolved and he let out a sigh, stretching his arms up and stetching his back. Suddenly he returned to his previous position, giving his son a hearty pat on the back. “Nice job Trunks, must be in the genes, eh son? A true Saiyan through and through.” He said grinning at his pink haired son with the kind of goofy smile you’d expect from Gohan or Goku. “Gohan,” He said turning towards Gohan now, his arm resting on the younger Saiyan’s shoulder. “I can’t tell you grateful I am. Surely I have missed quite a few years of enjoyment.”

“Hey, we usually get together every week, if you want to catch up,” Gohan said with a smile.

Author’s Notes:  On [info]fanficrants one day, we were discussing the utter fucking stupidity of the fanon that Saiyajin bite their mates to mark them (if you’ve written one of these fics, you’re forgiven, it’s just…dude, how did that become fanon?), and the further stupidity that it has something to do with their Saiyajin-ness. Because monkeys bite their mates a lot, I guess. What-ever. So I said, “one of these days I’m going to write a fic where the Saiyajin give in to their natural instincts and act like bonobos.” And this fic was born. Only one real act of smut but more more pairings, gay and straight, are referred to.
Being a teacher, you learn a lot about a little. And I’ve always liked natural history. And with my background, I guess it was only natural I spent some time researching monkeys.

There’s one species on this planet in particular; they’re almost as smart as humans, and they do quite well in their food chain.

They’ve got a rather…unusual approach to conflict resolution.

Sex.

Lots of it.

They get into a fight within their social group, they settle it with sex. Same-sex, opposite sex, threesomes….

It’s a little disconcerting.

It’s even more disconcerting when you realize your Saiyajin blood makes you respond in a similar way.

Vegeta said once that it’s how the Saiyajin survived; fights for dominance are all very well, but you’ve got to stop and make babies sometime.

“When did you have time to fight?” I asked.

“Very funny,” he snapped, and pushed me back on the bed.

Videl’s okay with it– hell, she enjoys it sometimes– as long as I stick to the other Saiyajin and she doesn’t know too many of the details, which for a long time mostly meant I’d have a long training session with Vegeta once in a while.

It all worked out fine until Trunks hit puberty and dragged my brother along with him.

For the first six months we caught them everywhere; the gravity room, our kitchen, the laundry room at Mom’s…Mom pitched a fit but she got over it. Like she had a choice.

They calmed down a little after that, which was a relief; walking into your bedroom to see your brother laid out like dessert under his boyfriend is pretty weird. To say the least.

And then they figured it out. I blame Trunks; he’s smarter than Goten and that much older.

And then things got interesting.

Which is why, today, I can’t find any of my damn classwork. And the tests are due back to the students tomorrow morning. I know exactly what it is; those little brats have got it somewhere at their apartment. They’re waiting for me.

They know exactly how pissed I’m going to be, and they think they know exactly how to get me to calm down.

But this time I’m just going to pound the living shit out of them.

***

I can sense their ki as I get near the apartment; Goten’s in the kitchen, Trunks is out in the living room. Reading, I think.

I pound on the door and Trunks gets it. “Where are they?” I demand.

His face is benignly blank. “Where are what?”

“My tests, you horny little twerp. Where are they?”

“Goten,” he calls into the kitchen. “You take Gohan’s tests?”

“What tests?”

“I know they’re in there.” If I hit him, right now, I should be okay. Skip the foreplay and go straight to the violence. Why did they have to be part of my damn social group anyway? “I wish you’d stop pulling this–”

“We’re not pulling anything,” Goten says, appearing behind Trunks. I can see the soapy water on his arms; he must’ve been doing dishes. Good thing I didn’t interrupt their meal, huh? They piss me off so much, sometimes. They just think they can do anything, and– “What’s he think we did?” he asks Trunks.

“Tests,” Trunks says, shrugging his shoulders. “You lost ‘em, huh?”

“I did not lose them, you twerps took them. You two pull this all the time. You get me pissed enough to–” And I’d better hit somebody, now, because otherwise–

My phone rings and I snap it open. “What?”

“Hey, honey,” Videl, sounding as calm as I’m agitated. “I found this stuff in the back of the car, under the emergency blanket. It looked like schoolwork so I–”

My stomach drops. “Tests?”

“Find ‘em?” Trunks says, and his tone is helpful and perky but his face…oh, I am so fucked.

“Yeah,” Videl says. “I think so. What should I–”

“Just put ‘em on the kitchen counter, okay? I’ll get to them tonight.”

“Okay,” she says. “I’m on my way out, okay?” From the way she says it, I wonder if she’s made some arrangements for the night of her own. “I’ll see you later.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too,” she says, and I snap the phone closed. Trunks smirks at me.

“Glad you found them,” he says, and he’s enjoying this way too much. And shit…I’m so hard. Shit.

“I mean,” he says, stroking himself through his jeans, “I’m sure you can find a way to apologize–”

Goten walks closer to Trunks, puts his arms around his waist, grinds forward into him. “Oh, yeah,” he says. “We’ll think of something.” His hand slips foward to Trunks’s fly and Trunks shivers.

“He looks good on his knees,” Trunks says. “But we’ve done that lots of times.”

“You could let me in,” I say.

“Take your clothes off first,” Trunks says.

“In the hallway?”

Trunks walks up and slides my glasses off. “Yeah.”

Um. Yeah. I guess…. “Okay.”

I peel my jacket off and toss it to Trunks. He catches it and folds it over his arm and I start on my tie. Goten takes that and loops it around his wrist.

By the time I’m unbuttoning my shirt it’s a show; I’m touching my chest deliberately, watching them watch me. Goten pulls his own shirt off deliberately and drops it on the floor, and winds his arms back around Trunks, sucking at his neck. Trunks tips his chin back and leans into him. “Take your pants off next,” he says.

I unbuckle my belt and slap it over to Goten. He loops it around his neck and walks over to me.

“Not yet,” Trunks says.

“C’mon,” Goten says, sinking down on his knees. “Let me have some fun.”

I unbutton my pants, and he mouths at me. Oh, damn that’s good. He slips his tongue in the fly of my boxers and I can feel my cock twitch with need. I let my pants drop and he sucks at the top of my cock. I reach for him and he backs off, squatting down on his heels. “Get in here,” he says, grinning.

I slide my socks and shoes off and stumble in, shutting the door behind me.

“You know,” Trunks says, sliding his arms around me, “if you wanted to get laid, you could’ve just asked.”

“Shut up.”

Goten laughs and pulls me fully down on my knees, licks the side of my neck. I shudder and he runs the tips of his fingers down my chest. “You want it though, don’t you?”

I shake my head, but I’m not kidding anybody.

“Careful, Gohan,” Trunks says. “We’ll make you beg.”

They will, too.

“I wanna fuck him,” Goten says. “Can I fuck him?”

“Whatever you want, baby.” Trunks is taking is own shirt off now, catching my eye as he folds our clothes carefully over the chair. “Bend him over.”

“Oh, yeah,” Goten murmurs. “You look real good like that.” He pulls me down on all fours. “Yeah.” He glances over at Trunks. “Wanna suck him off, Gohan?” He slides a finger into my mouth and I suck it, hard; I’m hungry for it now. His other hand slides to the crack of my ass, strokes down, pulls the boxers fully off. His touch is so light I’m shivering.

“C’mon,” I say. “I’ve got tests to grade.”

“Don’t you want to enjoy it?” Trunks purrs, kneeling in front of me for a kiss, licking at Goten’s fingers in my mouth.

We haven’t done this in a while; I hadn’t realized I missed it, their teasing and their touches and Goten’s tongue against my asshole, pushing in as his fingers slip away, and when I move forward it’s into Trunks’ mouth and when I move back it’s toward Goten’s and their breath is hot against me. Trunks is stroking my back and my arms, and I start wondering how long any of us will last.

Trunks breaks the kiss and says, “Okay, baby?”

“Yeah,” we both answer, and he laughs and unzips his fly. “Hungry, Gohan?”

“Yeah.” He’s so fucking pretty, that lavender hair hanging down in his face and his wide blue eyes meeting mine.

He’s thick and stiff in my mouth, not as long as Goten, but that’s fine. Goten’s still rimming me, but his fingers are getting involved now, and then his thumb, slick with lube, presses inside.

“Shit, just watching you do that–” I look up, and Trunks’ eyes are riveted on my brother. They’ve got something special, that’s for sure. Just the way they look at–

And then it’s not Goten’s finger, it’s Goten’s cock, thick and hard and deep in me, oh, yeah–

I try to focus on Trunks– Goten won’t touch my cock until his boyfriend comes– but it’s so good, so intense, that all I can do for a moment is writhe and push back against Goten. Goten reaches forward and tweaks my nipples, and I have to clench my jaw to keep from biting down. I suck hard– Trunks feels so good in my mouth now– and Goten grabs my hips. I look up at Trunks and nod; yeah. Do it.

And then they are both fucking me, Goten behind me, Trunks in my mouth, and they’ve got the same rhythm going, and I reach up and grab Trunks’s ass because I still want more….

“Baby,” he says, and I don’t know which of us he’s talking to, but I guess it doesn’t matter.

Trunks comes, gasping, so hard I almost choke; I swallow, and I feel Goten reaching down, touching me, and he hits my prostate and I come in his hand. A few more thrusts and he comes too, collapsing on my back.

“Watching you two,” Trunks says. “Shit.”

Before I can get up, Goten grabs my arm. “Come back, will you?”

“I gotta grade–”

“Just for a little while,” Trunks says. “You never stay.”

And sometimes it feels like they just use me, but….

Trunks leans over and kisses me. “We’ll be in bed,” he says. “Please?”

I can feel Goten’s hand at my waist. “Yeah,” I say. “I can’t stay long, but I’ll stay.”

***

They are curled together in bed when I come in, but they shift to let me in between them. We spoon together, Goten taking me in his arms, Trunks resting in mine. We kiss drowsy, slow kisses, and I shift to be on my back to hold both of them in my arms.

“You feel good,” Trunks says.

I take a deep breath and pull them tighter. “We shouldn’t like this so much.”

“We’re just embracing our Saiyajin heritage,” Trunks says. He reaches over and takes Goten’s hand.

“Did he just say he likes this?” Goten asks.

“Don’t jinx it.”

“I like it,” I admit.

Goten leans up and kisses me. “I like tasting him on you.”

I wonder if the administrators would believe it if I told them I’d had a family emergency and couldn’t grade the tests.

I wonder when Videl expects me home.

I think…I think I’ll just stay here for a while, anyway.

Embracing my Saiyajin heritage.

Author’s Notes:  Um, Mirai Trunks is here, in the present timeline. Why? Cuz…well, do you really need a reason? I mean, this is Mirai Trunks we’re talking about. ^_~.
“Daddy…?”

Goku groaned and, still asleep, shifted only slightly at his youngest son’s call. Goten inched closer to his father, taking very small steps, dragging his baby blue blanket behind him. He twisted the soft material between his fingers, nervous. He had never been completely comfortable around his father since that one night when he witnessed him raping his brother. At the time he had no knowledge of what was being done to his only sibling, and even now he still was not so sure, but he knew that his father was hurting Gohan. Hurting him in a way that his brother could not handle.

Once Goten was only mere inches from Goku, he stopped, not sure if he should call out to him again or not. He pulled his blanket tighter to him and chewed his bottom lip. His brother was nowhere in the house. Goten knew where Gohan was; he had searched for his ki moments ago. He wanted to go see him, to see how he was. He had been in his room when Goku had come home last night, and he had heard his brother’s broken pleas. He had heard the harsh blows delivered by their own father. But he stayed in his room. He always did. He had to. Gohan had made him promise.

“Daddy…?” he tried again, hesitantly. He really did want to see Gohan, but Goku didn’t like either of them leaving without him knowing.

Goku groaned again, this time pushing himself onto his elbows. With a grunt he squeezed his eyes tightly together and brought one hand up to hold his head. Moments later, he opened his eyes, grimacing at the light flowing through the windows. He blinked rapidly and glanced around him, his eyes finally settling on Goten.

“Goten…what are you doing up?”

“It’s eight o’clock in the morning. I’m hungry,” he said. He mentioned nothing about his brother’s absence, not sure if Goku would be upset.

“Yeah. Morning…breakfast. Right. What do you want?”

Goten shrugged. Even though Goku would go back to his normal self in the morning, the young halfling was still hesitant to become relaxed.

“Well, how about some cereal? You know I’m not a real good cook,” Goku said, his trademark grin in place.

“Okay.” A grin of his own was beginning to form on Goten’s face. Goku’s cheer was always contagious.

“Hey…where’s Gohan?”

***

Gohan cracked open one eye, then the other, awakening to bright sunlight streaming through Trunks’ balcony window. He breathed in and exhaled quietly, turning slowly in his bed, still wary of his wounds. His dark eyebrows furrowed when he noticed he was alone. The warmth that surrounded him when he fell asleep was no longer there. He frowned, feeling so empty without it.

The door to the bathroom opened and Gohan glanced up. Trunks walked out of the bathroom fully dressed, his hair still slightly damp from his shower. The ebony haired teen pushed himself up, leaning back against the headboard.

“Oh, Gohan, you’re up,” Trunks said with a gentle smile. “How do you feel?”

“Better.”

“That’s good. I think mom has some senzu beans somewhere in the house. Here,” he said taking a shirt out of his drawer and tossing it to him. “Are you hungry?”

“Yeah.” After pulling on the loose fitting shirt, Gohan swung his feet over the side of the bed, significantly perking up at the mention of food. Trunks moved over to him in case he needed any help walking down to the kitchen.

“We’ll go get your brother after breakfast, okay?”

Gohan nodded as he leaned onto Trunks, not really needing the support, but enjoying the feel of Trunks’ body against his. Once in the kitchen Trunks helped Gohan to sit in a chair, then seated himself next to him. Bulma, Vegeta, and Chibi Trunks were already there, Bulma at the stove cooking, and Chibi and Vegeta at the table.

“Gohan? What are you doing here? And what happened to your face?” Chibi asked bluntly.

“Uhh…I fell?”

He and Mirai Trunks winced visibly at the obvious lie, glancing at each other with nervous expressions on their faces. The others stared at Gohan, clearly not believing him. Bulma opened her mouth to question him about his pathetic fabrication, but Vegeta spoke first.

“Don’t bother. If the demon spawn doesn’t want us to know, then we should respect his privacy.”

Everyone blinked at Vegeta, surprised that he would defend Gohan so willingly. Vegeta continued reading the newspaper as if nothing out of the ordinary had transpired.

“Well, you’re feeling all right, aren’t you?” Bulma asked as she walked over to the table, setting down a couple of plates in front of him. He nodded and thanked her, picking up his chopsticks and starting for his food. Before he took a bite, his childhood teachings suddenly activated, so he waited for everyone else to be served first.

They ate in relative silence, except for the occasional comment from Bulma, and the short response from whomever she was speaking to. As the small robots scurried back and forth from the sink to the table with dirty dishes, the doorbell rang. Mirai Trunks rose from his chair and walked to the door to answer it.

“Hey Trunks!” Goku said happily as the door opened.

Trunks’ eyes widened considerably, and he found himself struggling to keep his rage only a distant spark in the back of his head. He clenched his teeth momentarily, then sighed quietly. “Hey Goku,” he said evenly, his voice showing none of his ire.

Goku stared at the lavender haired man in front of him curiously. He had felt Trunks’ ki fluctuate for a brief moment, as though he were stifling anger. “Can we come in?”

“…Sure.”

Goku walked in with Goten trailing behind him. Trunks narrowed his eyes, boring his gaze into Goku’s back. He sighed again, forcing himself to become calmer.

“Gohan’s here, right?” Goku stated, rather than asked. “Is he okay? He just kinda left and didn’t say anything.”

Trunks found himself growling deeply in his throat. “What do you mean, ‘Is he okay?’!?”

“Hey dad,” Gohan said, appearing in the hallway, forced cheer lacing his words.

“Gohan! There you are!” Goku said with a grin. His smile suddenly melted into concern. “What happened to your cheek?”

“Nothing. Rough spar with Vegeta.”

“This morning?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Oh. Is that why you left? To spar?”

Gohan nodded, not meeting his father’s eyes. Goku scratched the back of his neck. “Well, you’re okay, right?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Trunks said he’d get me a senzu bean.”

“That’s good. You think ‘Geta would like to spar again?”

Gohan shrugged, and Goku patted his eldest son on the shoulder, walking to the kitchen to find the Saiya-jin prince. Goten floated to Gohan’s eye level and reached out to wrap his arms around his brother’s neck. Gohan returned the embrace, smiling weakly. The seven-year-old boy kissed Gohan on the cheek without the bruise, then levitated towards where he felt Chibi Trunks’ ki signature.

Once Mirai Trunks and Gohan had the hallway to themselves, Trunks closed the distance between them. “What was that?!”

“What?” Gohan asked innocently.

“Gohan…why is Goku acting like that? Like nothing happened?”

“He doesn’t remember… He never does.”

“And you never tell him?”

“No… I…I don’t know. I just can’t…”

“Well, maybe if you told him, he would stop.”

“Maybe… I guess…I’m sorry…” Gohan said, dropping his head. He raked his calloused fingers through raven hair, sniffing to restrain those damned tears that kept threatening to fall.

“Gohan…you don’t have to apologize… It’s not your fault, okay?” Trunks said, pulling Gohan into his arms, hoping to offer comfort to the distressed teen. Gohan nodded against his chest, and wrapped his arms around the taller man.

“I feel really stupid, you know. Crying so much in front of you.”

Trunks smiled. “If you knew how many times I cried in front of you back in my time, then you wouldn’t feel so bad.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks… It really means a lot to me, Trunks.”

Trunks’ eyes softened and a contented smile tugged his lips upward. He tightened his grip on Gohan slightly and leaned his cheek on his sable spikes.

“What are you guys, dating or something?!” Chibi exclaimed as he peeked his head around a corner. “Get a room!”

Trunks and Gohan pulled apart, embarrassed grins on each of their faces. A faint blush tinted both of their cheeks.

“Uh, yeah, I think the senzu beans are in mom’s room…”

Author’s Notes:  Um, Mirai Trunks is here, in the present timeline. Why? Cuz…well, do you really need a reason? I mean, this is Mirai Trunks we’re talking about. ^_~.
Trunks sat in silent horror as Gohan concluded his tale. The raven-haired boy’s body shook as a quiet sob escaped him. Trunks wanted to say something, anything, to comfort his friend, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, he hugged him tighter and rested his cheek on Gohan’s head.

“I can hardly stand to look at Goten anymore… He looks so much…like him…” Gohan said, swallowing hard.

“Gohan…I’m so sorry…I wish I could do something to make it better…”

The younger boy closed his eyes and exhaled a shuddering breath. He turned in his angel’s arms and gazed into his cornflower eyes, reaching up to stroke Trunks’ cheek with the back of his hand. Cupping his face in his hands, he pulled Trunks into a gentle kiss. Feeling his uncertainty, Gohan’s fingers softly pressed against the back of his crush’s head, urging him, begging him, wanting him, needing him.

Yes, Gohan needed him. He needed him to take away the pain that he had suffered at his father’s hand. Pulling away from the younger boy, Trunks stared into Gohan’s blacker-than-black eyes, noticing the pleading look there.

“Gohan…” he swallowed.

“I-I…I’m sorry, Trunks… I didn’t mean…”

Mirai Trunks placed a finger to the stuttering boy’s lips, silencing him. Then his hand moved to caress Gohan’s cheek, tinted a silver glow in the moonlight, his thumb running across the smooth flesh. Trunks’ lips parted in a silent gasp when a lonely tear dropped onto his fingers.

“Gohan…why…? Don’t cry, Gohan,” he said quietly, wiping away the short trail of saline.

The dark-haired demi Saiya-jin sniffed and looked at his hands, wondering why Trunks hadn’t pushed him away in disgust by now. He was his father’s whore, a toy for his father to come home and fuck whenever he had drunken himself into that kind of mood. Why was Trunks still holding him as though he were actually someone worth touching? Why hadn’t he thrown him out yet?

Gohan tensed when Trunks pulled him into a tight embrace, still careful not to put too much pressure on Gohan’s injuries, and rested his chin on his head. He lightly stroked the younger boy’s back, relaxing him. A few quiet moments later, he pulled away from Gohan and gazed into his eyes.

“Gohan, I want you to stay here for a while. I won’t let you to go back to what you’ve had to suffer through. I’m sure mom won’t mind. We have plenty of space. Goten can stay too, you know, until Goku gets himself under control.”

The darker teen swallowed, pushing back the threatening tears. “Please…don’t tell…anyone else…”

Trunks hesitated, indecision flickering across his sapphire colored irises. He opened his mouth to speak, to refuse Gohan’s plea, but closed it when he saw how desperately his friend wanted secrecy. Finally, he nodded, “Of course, Gohan. I won’t tell.”

“Thank you…Trunks…I don’t know how to…repay…”

The older man’s heart ached at Gohan’s broken voice, and he suddenly found himself furious at Goku for doing this to him. His rage baffled him for a moment, the anger being stronger than he had ever felt for anyone, even for the androids. Quickly deciding that he didn’t want to deal with them at the moment, he pushed his emotions to the back of his mind, focusing on the pained young man in front of him.

Gently, Trunks let go of Gohan and crossed to the other side of his room, missing the hurt frown that tilted the other’s lips downward. He opened one of his dresser drawers and pulled out a pair of loose gi pants, tossing them on the bed next to Gohan.

“You can wear those tonight until we can get your clothes, okay?”

Gohan nodded weakly and took the fabric into his hands. He looked up at Trunks, who was walking towards him, and said, “Um…Trunks?”

“Yeah?”

“Could I…sleep with you tonight?” Gohan asked shyly, a light blush coloring his cheeks.

Trunks couldn’t hide his surprise, and his lavender eyebrows arched in shock. He fumbled with his answer for a moment, finally giving up on his voice and nodding at him rather detachedly, his mind racing with wild thoughts. With an imperceptible shake of his head, he rose from the bed again to close the balcony door that he had left open after bringing in the battered Gohan.

While his back was to him, Gohan struggled to pull on the gi pants without his cuts and bruises hurting too badly. The azure-eyed man turned around to see Gohan clothed in the blue pants and fumbling nervously with the towel, not sure what to do with it. A sad smile found its way to Trunks’ lips as he watched with morbid fascination at how one person could have turned the once confident young man into a defeated small child.

“Gohan,” he said, taking the towel from the other demi, “try to get some sleep, okay? I’ll talk to Goku in the morning if you want me to.”

“No!!” Gohan replied with a force that surprised them both. “Please don’t. What if he…what if he comes after me? What will I do if he…?”

Fresh tears coursed down the teen’s cheeks, and Trunks found himself clenching and unclenching his fists in suppressed rage, rage directed once again at Goku. He had never seen the part Saiya-jin so afraid before. How dare Goku make his friend feel this way? Forcing himself to calm down, he placed a comforting hand on Gohan’s shoulder.

“Sleep now. We’ll talk about it more in the morning,” Trunks said soothingly. “But I promise you, I won’t let your father cause you any harm ever again.”

Gohan nodded and sniffed, wiping at his eyes, again embarrassed by his tears. Trunks helped him to lie down on the soft bed, joining him once he was comfortable. He draped one arm over Gohan’s side, tugging him closer, reaching up with the other arm to stroke his hair. Gohan sighed softly, a faint smile gracing his features as he snuggled closer to his long-time obsession.

Trunks glanced down at him, his own smile tilting the corners of his mouth. He leaned his head down and pressed his lips to Gohan’s forehead in a gentle kiss. Continuing to stroke the soft, ebony locks, he watched as Gohan drifted into a peaceful slumber.

The lavender-haired prince, though, found sleep a little harder to come by, as he searched his mind for a solid enough lie to cover for Gohan’s cuts and bruises. Frowning as none seemed sound enough to convince his genius mother, he forced himself to close his eyes and sleep just as the sun peeked over the horizon.

“Hmmm…I wonder what dad would say if he found me like this, cuddled up to ‘baka Kakarotto’s demon spawn’…” Trunks murmured to himself before a dreamless sleep overtook him.

Author’s Notes:  Um, Mirai Trunks is here, in the present timeline. Why? Cuz…well, do you really need a reason? I mean, this is Mirai Trunks we’re talking about. ^_~.
Trunks turned in his bed, slowly opening one eye. That one cerulean orb glanced over to his balcony door, taking in the crescent moon, midnight sky, and twinkling stars. His other eye opened as he sat up in bed, silently wondering what woke him up.

His head jerked to the side when he heard the sound of a branch breaking followed by a small yelp of surprise. Realizing that the noise was coming from outside his room, he jumped out of bed and rushed out onto the large platform of his balcony. His eyes widened as he noticed a set of fingers hanging on to the railing. They widened even further when he saw to whom those fingers were attached.

“Gohan?”

Trunks stood there in shock for a few seconds then shook his head to clear it. He reached out and grabbed Gohan’s arm, pulling him onto the balcony’s marble floor. He put Gohan’s arm over his shoulder, holding onto his wrist, and wrapped his own arm around Gohan’s waist. He half-carried, half-dragged the younger boy into his room and gingerly laid him on his bed.

“Gohan?” he called softly as he sat down beside him.

A quiet grunt emitted from Gohan’s lips as he opened his eyes to see who had spoken. His eyes took a while to focus, but the blur of lavender was unmistakable. He reached his hand out to touch the concerned figure before him, but his body, too tired and sore, refused to let him complete the action. His arm limply fell back to its place on the bed.

“Gohan…what happened? You…you look like shit…”

Gohan smiled weakly and tried to sit up. Trunks gently pushed him back down, not wanting him to put himself in any unnecessary pain.

“Who did this to you?”

Gohan turned his head away, ashamed of the tears that sprang to his eyes. Trunks frowned a bit and put his fingers to Gohan’s chin to turn his head back to him. He brushed away the twin trails of saline with his thumb.

“Gohan,” he whispered, “please…tell me…”

More tears spilled from the teenager’s dark eyes, and he bit his lip to stifle a sob. Blood formed around his teeth as his sharp incisors pricked his flesh. Trunks’ eyebrows furrowed as he watched a thin line of blood drop from his lip. He sighed and rose from his bed.

“Look, you can’t stay in those bloody clothes all night. You should take a bath first, to ease some of the pain, and then I’ll treat your wounds, okay?”

Gohan opened his mouth, then closed it when even that made his jaws ache. He paused a moment and tried again.

“I…can’t…it hurts…”

Gohan’s words were faint, but Trunks’ Saiya-jin ears heard them still. He stood there a moment, not really sure what to do, but then he nodded and walked into his bathroom.

It was about this time that Gohan noticed what Trunks was wearing. Or rather, what he wasn’t wearing. His purple-haired angel was dressed in nothing but a pair of blue, silk boxers. If his body hadn’t been aching in places he didn’t know existed, he would have squealed like an obsessed fangirl. But since it was, he had to settle for mental squealing.

Footsteps invaded his thoughts and he became aware of Trunks walking towards him. He noted the sound of running water, as the older man lifted him off the bed and carried him to his bathroom. He propped Gohan up against the sink and helped him to remove his clothes.

Gohan blushed a crimson shade as his crush lifted his shirt over his head and tossed it on the tile floor. Trunks stopped when he spotted the many bruises and cuts on Gohan’s chest and stomach. Beneath the drying blood, he even noticed scars of previous wounds much like the new ones.

“Oh Kami, Gohan…” Trunks breathed.

Gohan, trying to keep from seeing the pain in Trunks’ endless blue eyes, bent over to take off his pants. He blushed more when he felt the other man’s eyes still on him. Gohan straightened and walked carefully over to the bathtub. On his way, his muscles gave in to the pain and his balanced faltered, threatening to bring the floor closer to his face.

He felt strong arms break his fall, and felt silky strands of lavender hair brush against his cheeks. Trunks gathered Gohan in his arms and cautiously placed him in the warm water. Gohan sighed softly as the liquid soothed his skin.

Trunks grabbed a small towel and lathered it with soap. He gently massaged Gohan’s aching muscles, taking extra care not to press too hard against his bruised skin. Gohan leaned back against Trunks, moaning when Trunks washed the inside of his thighs.

Trunks’ hand hesitated as his mind concocted images to accompany the sounds he was hearing. He shook his head, clearing it of all perverted thoughts, and continued to bathe his friend.

“Trunks…” Gohan moaned, closing his eyes.

This time Trunks dropped the towel in the water, trying to rid himself of the possible sounds Gohan could make if he were…

‘Argh!! No! He’s your best friend, and he’s hurt! You can’t think those things!!’ Trunks scolded himself.

“Trunks?”

The blue-eyed man blushed as he realized that Gohan was watching him with great interest. Trunks smiled weakly and stood up. He offered his hand to Gohan and turned away as he rose from the water and stepped out of the tub.

Trunks handed his teenage friend a towel and left the bathroom, leaving a confused Gohan in his wake. Gohan stared at the door, towel in hand, wondering why his angel had left him so abruptly.

‘Did I do something wrong…?’

Gohan stretched, then contracted quickly, as his wounds reminded him of their presence. He gently toweled himself dry and wrapped the damp cloth around his waist.

“Man, that bath was just what I needed…” he muttered. “At least I can walk on my own now… Although, I wouldn’t have minded Trunks carrying me until I got better…”

Gohan smiled at the thought and walked over to the mirror. The boy that looked back at him made his breath hitch in his throat. He reached up to run his finger along the large bruise on his cheek. He stared at the long slender cut on his side and the nail marks that stretched across his chest. He flinched when he touched the gash on forearm, shuddering as he remembered how it got there.

The inky-eyed boy turned from the mirror, suddenly disgusted by his reflection, and walked out of the spacious room. As he entered the bedroom, he saw Trunks toying with something in the First-Aid kit.

The lavender-haired man looked up, sensing someone behind him. He turned and motioned for Gohan to come closer. Gohan walked up to him and sat down on the bed. He watched with interest as Trunks began to bandage his cuts.

When Trunks was done, he put up the kit and stood in front of the younger boy, his arms folded across his bare chest. Trunks stared into Gohan’s charcoal eyes and waited.

“Well?” he asked after a period of time.

“Um, well what?”

“You never answered me, Gohan. I think I have a right to know who did this, or at least, what happened. Don’t I?”

Gohan fidgeted a little, not sure what do say. Of course Trunks had a right to know. But what would he think if he knew? After a moment’s hesitation, Gohan took a deep breath and began his story. He told Trunks everything—about the pain his mother’s death caused him and his family, Goku’s nightly disappearances, the abuse he had taken everytime his father returned home drunk.

By the time he stopped, he was sobbing uncontrollably. Trunks sat beside him and wrapped his arms around him, cradling Gohan’s slightly hysterical form. He rocked back and forth, rubbing Gohan’s back, and whispering comforting words in his ear until he calmed down.

Gohan sniffed and wiped his eyes, blushing. He pushed himself away from Trunks and looked down at the floor, suddenly embarrassed by his actions. He fingered the white cloth that hung around his waist and waited. He waited for Trunks to voice his disgust at his weakness, waited for Trunks to hate him like he hated himself.

But Trunks did none of that, and when he spoke, his words were quiet and gentle.

“Gohan,” he began, “when Goku would come home drunk…would he…has he ever…forced himself on you?”

Gohan tensed visibly. He had conveniently left those parts out and hoped that he wouldn’t ask. The black-haired teen closed his eyes and shook his head.

“No,” he said quietly.

Trunks frowned, sensing the lie. “Gohan…how far has he gone with you?”

“…He hasn’t done anything…like that…”

Trunks sighed. “Both of us know you’re lying. Tell me the truth, Gohan. You have to tell someone. If you don’t, no one can help you.”

Gohan turned away from Trunks and hung his head. He couldn’t possibly tell him how his father had…

“Gohan,” Trunks whispered, his mouth to his ear. “I want to help you. Please, let me do that.”

Gohan stiffened for a moment and then relaxed as Trunks’ arms encircled his waist, pulling him into a loose embrace. He leaned his head against the older man’s shoulder and closed his eyes, letting his tears flow from his eyes as he remembered that one horrible night.

“He…he came home one night, even more drunk than usual…”

[Flashback]

Gohan sat in the living room, flipping through the channels, finding nothing of interest. Sighing, he turned off the television and grabbed a book. He stared at the pages absently, listening to the rain strike the windows and wondering when his father would return.

He would be sixteen tomorrow, and he doubted that his father would be up to celebrating. It had yet to be a year since the passing of his mother, and Goku was taking it worse than expected.

Gohan turned his gaze to the door, willing for his father to come home.

As though Goku had heard his son’s thoughts, the door opened and he slowly walked inside. He was soaking wet from the rain, and the water dripped from his clothes onto the floor. His eyes were lifeless, and his breathing was shallow.

Gohan watched as his father steadily made his way over to him. Goku stood in front of his son, rocking on his feet slightly, and stared down at him. He reached out and grabbed Gohan by the collar of his shirt, pulling him up to his eye level.

“My clothes are wet,” he stated drunkenly. “Whatcha gonna do about it, son?”

Gohan stared into his father’s eyes, wondering what he meant.

“Ya know,” Goku continued, “you should take them off for me. Yeah, and maybe I’ll reward ya for bein’ such a good boy.”

The young boy’s eyes widened as he saw the hungry glint in his father’s otherwise dull eyes. He tried to back away, but only succeeded in falling back onto the couch. Goku grinned and dropped himself on top of his son.

Straddling the boy’s hips, he removed his wet shirt. Gohan wiggled underneath the massive bulk of his father. Goku reached out a backhanded him across the cheek.

“Move and I’ll kill you, you brat!” he hissed at his son.

Gohan stiffened and watched as his father ripped off his shirt and pants, leaving him clothed in only his boxers. Goku lifted himself up for a moment to strip himself of his own clothing, revealing his aching erection. He looked down at his son and licked his lips. He tore his boxers away from his hips, exposing the pale flesh underneath.

The older man dragged his fingernails across his son’s abdomen, watching in satisfaction the blood that welled from the scratches. Gohan whimpered and tears stung the corners of his eyes. Goku took notice with a growl. He slapped his son hard across the face.

“Shut up, brat!”

Gohan bit his lip, not wanting to anger his father further. Goku levitated above his son long enough to shove him roughly off the couch. Gohan hit the floor with a soft thud. Goku kicked his son in the side and rolled him over onto his stomach with his foot. He bent down and grabbed Gohan’s hips, pulling them up towards him.

Taking no time for foreplay or preparation, Goku thrust himself inside his son. Gohan cried out in anguish as Goku’s large shaft invaded his small entrance. Allowing him no time to adjust to the size, the dark-haired man slammed into Gohan over and over again. With each plunge, Gohan writhed with agony and screamed with pain.

Goku ground his hips against him, thinking of his own satisfaction without taking into consideration the pain of his son. Moaning throatily, he thrust deeply into Gohan one last time before climaxing inside of him.

Spent, Goku slumped against his son. Gohan fell to the floor, feeling the blood trickle down his thighs. After a few moments had passed, he crawled from underneath his father and to the wall opposite him, leaving a trail of blood in his wake. He pulled his knees to his chest and stared at his unconscious father. He hung his head, feeling no better than a cheap whore. He shoulders shook as he cried.

Goten slowly walked up to his older brother, his innocent mind not understanding what he had just witnessed from his place in the doorway. The five-year-old boy stared at his brother, his small hand reaching out to wipe away Gohan’s tears. Gohan looked into his brother’s eyes and cried harder.

[End of flashback]

“Some birthday present…” Gohan muttered bitterly.

Author’s Notes:  Um, Mirai Trunks is here, in the present timeline. Why? Cuz…well, do you really need a reason? I mean, this is Mirai Trunks we’re talking about. ^_~.
A man stood next to a casket, holding his young son in his arms. His fingertips traced along the cold, smooth face of the recently deceased woman. A lone teardrop splashed onto the pale blue dress she would forever wear.

“Daddy, when’s mommy gonna wake up?” the four-year-old boy asked.

The man turned his head to his son, tears glistening in his eyes. A weak smile appeared on his face, as he reached up to cup his son’s face in his hand, pulling him forward to kiss him lightly on the forehead.

“Mommy will…never wake up, son.”

***

Gohan stared at the front door, a worried expression on his face. He bit his bottom lip and tapped his left foot on the wooden planks of the floor. He checked his watch for the twelfth time in the past five minutes.

“Dad…where are you?” he muttered.

His younger brother ran up to him and wrapped his arms around his leg, a smile gracing his cherubic face. His grin faded, though, when he saw the frown on his brother’s.

“Gohan? What’s wrong?”

Gohan sighed. “Dad’s not back yet. I’m really starting to worry. I can feel his ki and all, but…hey, Goten, shouldn’t you be in bed? It’s way past your bedtime.”

Goten pouted. “But I wanna stay up with you.”

Gohan bent down to Goten’s eye level. “Sorry, kid. You know how mom gets when…”

The two raven-haired boys flinched at the mention of their dead mother. Goten sniffed, wiped at his eyes and nodded, walking down the hallway to his room. Gohan sighed again and leaned against the wall, letting himself slide down until he touched the floor. He pulled his knees to his chest and buried his head between them. His shoulders shook with each sob. Each cry signaled the fall of one more tear.

‘Three years…’ Gohan thought to himself. ‘It’s been three years. Why can’t I just…’

The turn of the doorknob jolted the teen away from his thoughts. His head snapped up at the sound of the door slowly creaking open. He instinctively tensed, but relaxed slightly when he realized to whom the ki belonged.

‘Dad! But…his ki…is different…oh no…not again…’

Goku walked through the doorway, his hand immediately reaching out for the wall, or any object nearby, to steady himself. His head was low, his breathing ragged.

Gohan stood cautiously, ever wary of his father in his present state. He moved not an inch, waiting for the other to make the first move.

The older man raised his head, the light of the lamp illuminating his face. As Gohan stared into his father’s eyes, he noted the fully dilated pupils. He backed a step, pressing against the wall behind him.

Goku walked up to his son, his gait clearly unstable. He planted his hand firmly on the wall above Gohan’s shoulder and leaned his forehead against his. An odd smile crept its way across his lips.

“Heya, son,” he slurred, alcohol tainting his breath.

Gohan bit his lip, trying not to scrunch his nose against the toxic scent. He shivered as Goku reached up with his free hand to run his fingers across his son’s skin in a near caress. His fingertips brushed against the smooth flesh of his jawbone and chin, down to the nape of his neck, and stopping at the center of his broad chest. Gohan swallowed hard as Goku looked him over, his drunken eyes filling with hunger.

An intoxicated laugh escaped his father’s throat. Soon after, Gohan’s lips were abused with a bruising kiss as his father harshly pressed his lips to his. The teen’s muffled cry never reached his father’s ears. He only took note of his son’s open mouth to push his tongue through, roughly exploring the warm cavern.

Goku’s hands wandered down to his son’s hips, encircling them to pull him into an embrace. Gohan gasped as his body was crushed to his father’s. He squirmed within his grip, each move bumping him against Goku’s obvious arousal. A groan escaped his father’s lips, and he removed his mouth from Gohan’s, deciding to nibble his flesh instead. Each nip left his skin red and burning with pain.

“Dad…please…stop…” Gohan pleaded, brokenly.

A tear streaked down Gohan’s face as Goku lifted his eyes to meet his. He said nothing, just raised his hand and let it connect with Gohan’s cheek. The eighteen-year-old boy fell to the floor as his father continued to abuse him, his drunken rage fueling his power. Goku watched with a satisfied smirk as his son writhed, screaming in agony.

The pain from each blow seemed to run together as the seconds ticked by. Gohan hardly took notice when the beatings ceased. He slowly opened his eyes and searched the room from his place on the floor. His father lay sprawled on the floorboards not too far away, having fallen unconscious from the liquor he had consumed.

The ebony-eyed boy rose to his feet, wincing as each muscle cried out in protest. He leaned against the wall and coughed, blood splattering onto the polished wood of the floor. His eyes stared at the blood, his oxygen-starved lungs desperately trying to refill themselves.

As Gohan regained control of himself once more, he slowly crept forward to the door. He reached for the doorknob and pulled, quietly padding out the door. He hovered in the air above his house for a few moments, the simple act of lifting himself off the ground seeming to have taken all his strength.

Gohan floated lazily through the air, not sure where to go. He considered going to Videl’s house, but how would he explain the bruises? He scanned through other possibilities, halting in mid-flight as one person came to his mind.

‘Trunks…’

A smile appeared on his face as he pictured his crush from the future asleep in his bed, his long lavender hair falling to caress his face, his full lips parted as he steadily breathed. Gohan’s eyes closed as he envisioned himself gathered in his angel’s arms, his head against his chest, listening to his rhythmic heartbeat.

Gohan looked down to see how far he was from Capsule Corporation, and realized he was already there, his heart having led him even when his mind was indecisive. The teen dropped to the ground and lowered his ki, not wanting to alert anyone of his presence.

He walked around the dome-shaped building to where Mirai Trunks’ room was located. Not wanting to reveal himself just yet, he climbed the tree that hung close to Trunks’ balcony. As he carefully crawled along one of the branches, his ears caught the faint sound of wood cracking. He ignored it and kept crawling, figuring he could make it before…

SNAP!

…the branch broke.