Another Way
by Card     More by this Writer
This is set during The History of Trunks. A little tweaking of that story line and *gasp* Gohan didn't get his arm lopped off. *yay* So the Characters of this story are the Mirai's: Gohan, Trunks and Bulma.
*sigh* Slash. Sex. Saiyans. Virgin Saiyans with no concept of slash sex (just so you know.) Mpreg--*gasp* Mpreg?! Yup. And this system of Mpreg is like a cross between the More of Us way and the Nothing's Impossible idea. Okay? Okay!

Image by 'Ryu Morikawa' From the book 'Twilight'
Male Pregnancy



Chapter 1
"I know what you've been doing with my son, Go-han."

He choked on the rice and ended up spewing the half-chewed food across the table, blushing like a moron and looking over at Bulma who was just looking so superior and unamused by him. Leaning back against the counter of her kitchen. Long blue hair pulled back from her face and she was wearing the mechanic's one piece, smudged with oil on her hip where she wiped her hands.

"Uh--doing?" he managed to say finally. Scrubbed the back of his head with his fingers (--like your father. Just like your father. Isn't that what they always say and still you can't win a fight.)

"Don't play dumb."

"But--Bulma. Trunks needs to be trained. He is half-saiyan. If you didn't have someone to teach him he'd go do something stupid--"

"He's my son, Gohan. I think I know him well enough. And I wasn't talking about training." She moved forward, slapped her hands down on the table and leaned real close to him, angry as shit at him. "He's just a sixteen year old boy, Go-han. You need to remember that."

He'd never really been afraid of Bulma before this moment. But he'd never been this close to her before either. With her glaring at him hatefully. He couldn't remember anyone hating him before. He was Goku's son after all, and that went a long way with everyone. (Okay--so the Androids hated him, but it wasn't anything special.)

Trunks almost hated him. That one time--he remembered that time.

"Where are you going?" To fight the androids. To try and put a stop to the endless killing. But Trunks had glared at him then, so much like his father, and he had been shaking. Everywhere, hands in fists and it was a strange thing to watch. "We're the only ones left! You can't go yet! We're the only ones left and if you die I won't ever be ready! We're not ready yet! You just want to go and be like your dad--but he's dead! And so is everyone else that tried! They're all dead!"

"...I haven't been doing anything to Tru--"

"Just how stupid do you think I am Go-han?"

Stupid was never a word he would have thought of when he thought of Bulma, but she was being a little bit psychotic at the moment. Well--she would be psychotic if not for the fact that there was that one little thing that he sort of kind of did that involved Trunks and Trunks was nine years younger than him. And he was a kid.

"But Bulma--"

"NO," she repeated. "No. Nothing you say is going to make it okay, Go-han."

On days like this, at times like these, he really hated the way she drew out his name and made it sound like that. Like she was patronizing him. And maybe she was, or maybe he had overstayed his welcome here. Probably the second one. Looking at her again--definitely the second one. He felt squashed, shoved down and confined in a space that was too small for him. Much too small.

"Bulma," he tried again.

Then Bulma fell back, in the chair and dropped her eyes away from him. Looked miserable and lonely and picked at her fingernails. He understood that. Felt that way himself sometimes. When you realized that everything you knew or fought for was dead and nothing you were doing was going to change that. She looked at him again and sighed. "Tell me you're not going to hurt him."

And how was he supposed to promise something like that? How could he honestly say that he wouldn't hurt Trunks when he had no concept of what the future was? He was going to have to fight the androids, it was inevitable. And it was also inevitable that he would probably end up dead. What he was doing with Trunks--it was just delaying the obvious conclusion. Trying to give himself hope more than anyone.

"Promise me," Bulma said, leaning forward again. "That you won't hurt him on purpose."

"I won't," he promised.

~~~***

He could hear the water running, rushing around behind him. Remembered how mad he had been at Gohan when he just let him thrash around in the water while he laughed at him. Smirked as he thought of it now--or smirked mentally. Felt the hand on his back, pressing over a bruise on his skin and hissed, pulled away from Gohan and licked his lips.

"We need to be training," Gohan said.

Hard to believe that when the man was sitting between his thighs, hands on his back, one that kept going up and running through his hair, tipping his head one way or the other. Kissing him harder and deeper and pulling him closer to the larger body.

"We did. For twelve hours," he reminded Gohan. "I've got the bruises." And he reached behind him, moved the hand down so it was on the small of his back and away from the bruise he got from flying backward through a rock. "This is what we do--remember?"

Gohan nodded his agreement. And Trunks kissed him again, edging closer. Part of him wanted to know when this thing would go from the kissing and touching to the other thing. A guilty little part of him that wanted to forget about the androids that showed up and killed people everywhere, then went into hibernation and returned to repeat the process. Always just enough time to assume you were safe, and then they were back.

Now was a hibernation period. He didn't feel safe.

"Wait," Gohan said, pushed him back enough to look at him. "Your mother knows."

"Ok."

"Okay? She almost killed me, Trunks." But he was whining. If he had been serious, Trunks would have cared more. But he wasn't, he was just giving him a sob story, and Trunks grinned down at him.

"You look remarkable for a dead man." Loved the way Gohan looked at him, loved the hand that moved up to his head, tilted his face toward him and the hand on the small of his back that pressed him forward, pressed his hips against Gohan's stomach. Nothing existed then but Gohan and him.

Gohan kissed him again and he closed his eyes, let his mouth open, tasted the tongue that slipped in and sucked on the mouth against his. Made a noise in the base of this throat, but only because it made Gohan whine back, made him shift on the ground and Trunks felt the hardness against his thigh.

He did that to Gohan.

They breathed, panting against one another. Sharing a breath. So close to one another that he couldn't see all of Gohan's face, only his eyes, the bridge of his nose, forehead, eyebrows. His lips when he looked down. Wet lips. The hand on his back pulled him forward completely, so he was on his knees and pressed against Gohan. Grinding his erection against him. Gasped. Felt himself blush.

It was different with another person. The feeling of friction against him.

"Not here--" Gohan said finally. Pulled his face down and kissed him again. "We can do what you want--but not here."

Trunks stared at him. Felt like a kid again. A silly and stupid little kid that had no idea what to do next. No idea where to go. His mother was probably at home--she never went anywhere without him--and Gohan didn't have a place to go. He licked his lips. "Mom's probably in the lab," he said finally. "She can't hear anything in there."

Gohan nodded. And they got to their feet, stood and looked at one another awkwardly. Then Gohan made the first move, rising into the air and waiting for him. Trunks smiled like an idiot and followed him. Shaking in his yellow shoes--stop it he snapped at himself. They went back to the ruined Capsule Corp building, through the ruined roof and slipped down the hall to his room. Silently all the way, until the door was closed and he was in his room, with his bed. With Gohan. Still shivering.

Gohan looked at his hands, saw him shivering, and raised his own hands, they were shaking just the same. And they laughed at one another. At their nervousness. But they were still just looking at one another. He glanced toward the bed and Gohan did too.

"Wha--" Gohan ran his hand through his hair. "What do you want to do?" Asking him, because Trunks was the younger one, because if Gohan decided then it would be wrong or something or whatever. He didn't know.

So what did he want to do? He wanted to know--wanted to know what Gohan felt like, what he looked like without his clothes, how warm his hands were on Trunks' skin where he hadn't touched yet. What it felt like to be so close to someone, to have it mean something, to feel something infinitely deeper than those stupid dreams he had or his own damn hand.

"Everything," he said finally.

Gohan nodded and grabbed him, pulled him up against him. Crushing his smaller body to Gohan's, kissing him. Like before. Messy kisses, and urgent hands were pulling his clothes off as Trunks pulled on the tie that held his gi in place. Reached up and pulled the sleeves down off Gohan's shoulders, tugged them down over his arms and had to go without the hands on him until the chest was bare. Then he stopped kissing him and looked at him. Swallowed.

"Sure?" Gohan asked breathlessly.

Trunks nodded, looked down and watched the larger hands pulling his shirt up, lifted his arms over his head and the shirt went up. His chest was bare and the hands dropped back down, to his pants. Trunks toed his shoes off and lost an inch of height, making him that much shorter. But Gohan didn't stop what he was doing, finished opening his pants and pushed them down, over his narrow hips and thighs, and they fell the rest of the way to the floor.

Leaving everything but his ankles naked.

He looked at Gohan, at his face as the older saiyan looked at him. Slight blush on his face, but it was the darkness of his eyes, the intensity with which he looked. It made Trunks want to shiver again, but he didn't, reached forward and shoved Gohan's gi down off his hips and returned the look.

Gohan was bigger than him (everywhere) and his skin was darker. His hair was darker. His muscles were more defined. Trunks looked back up at his face. Stepped out of his own pants when Gohan got out of his. And they went back to the looking thing.

"Its cold in here," he said finally.

Gohan pulled him up against his body, turned them around and they stumbled over to the bed and fell on it, Gohan over him, kissing him, his mouth and his neck. Sucking on his skin as he touched all of him. So much skin against his, warm and smooth and he felt the muscles under the skin moving as Gohan moved.

Smiled like a dork and put his hands on Gohan. Everywhere.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~***

Trunks: Well--
Gohan: Yup.
Trunks: What exactly are we doing?
Gohan: I'm sure we'll figure it out. Hopefully. *looks nervous*



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