The Two Tie Tango
by Hentai Institute     More by this Writer
2 Trunks, 2 ties, and time 2 kill...

Written by mi m'o
Shota Incest

If this is heaven…

Heaven…pure and divine in its entirety.

The light scent of fresh coffee on the commute to work…

The way a fine chocolate dissolves on your tongue, the rich, creamy essence of it all pooling, coating…

Your tongue, your throat…your lips when you snake that pert little muscle out to collect the light dusting of powder at the corner of your mouth…that beautiful mouth…

Darting that supple flesh over your lower lip, pulling in what you left, almost begging for more with that cool smirk…

Parting your lips ever so slightly, whispering your thanks, a soft cheek turned toward me in something of embarrassment…

Heaven…this is when it all started…

If this is heaven, what's burning in hell…

.o0o.
Haii…to feel like this…to feel you so fresh, so fully inside of me…it feels so good…

Nnnnggg…hai…hai….

Thick, swift, hard…

Faster…faster, onegai…

Saaaa…you want…you want them to hear…?

I don't care...fuck me…just…fuck me…

Fingers clawing, scraping…searching for that perfect nook, that ridge, that place to gather and curl into; better leverage…more dick…

I need it…I need it Trunks…

Ah…heaven… here it is again…

More…

Trunks…

Faster…

Trunks…hai…

Cock.

You want that? Is that it?

Spit.

There? You like it right there?

Cum.

Hai, Trunks…right there…

Sweat.

Ohhh…Trunks….Haiiiii…

Tears.

Like this? There?

Blood.

You like it when I fuck you, Trunks? You like it when I take you like this?

Shiver

Hai, Trunks. Hai. I love it when you touch me…

Scratch.

Long…slow strokes… you like that, boy…?

Tear.

Hai. Faster, onegai, onegai Trunks…

Lick.

Lips…I need your mouth…

Nip.

Mouth…? Where would you …like my mouth…?

Twist.

Everywhere…

Ride.

Take it, Trunks…take it all…

Oh yeah…hai

.o0o.
"You think this is such a good idea, Pan? I mean, surprising him at work is a pretty risky thing…" the Son knit his brow at his niece's insistence, but couldn't really find a reason not to visit his best buddy at work.

Not like he was ever really working anyway. That's what assistants were for--Trunks had taught him that a long time ago. "He might, you know," he gestured--a flick of a wrist, "be in a meeting er something…"

"Don't be so careful, Oji-san. Everyone loves surprises." The beaming, almost angelic features of his brother's daughter always left him feeling a little…nauseous… "Besides, we'll wait if we have to. They have magazines and chairs," a contented nod, "that's all I need."

But he had to be a good uncle, after all, ne? And she was only…what? Thirteen? Hai, but how much trouble was I getting into at that age… Shrugging his insecurities to the wind, they walked in through revolving brass doors to the lobby of Capsule Corporation's East Capital location, with little to few more words between them.

.o0o.
The long, slow thrusts bled painfully into sharp, blunt shoves as their passion mounted, climbing higher toward the impossibility of their goal…

…no climax, no meaning, no resolution…

But pleasure…pure, unadulterated pleasure burned bright between them, churning the air in their small room, the muffled cries behind glass alerting no one to the track they had chosen.

Clutching, moaning, fucking, desire.

"Hai…"

Lost to the empty air, his calls were bedded by the wet lips and demanding tongue of his senior affiliate--the hand that had been forcing his ankle heavenward, released it's grip in order to wrap diligently around the gentle curve of his neck, pulling him forward.

The need, the absolute, utter chaos in their movements; the reckless wax and wane of cock and balls as the fever between them rose--tempo and melody crawling in time to the pitch and claw of their own metronome.

"Mnm.."

Slim, limber digits pulled and tugged at his hardened shaft--the tenderness and light teasing gone from his touch as he stroked and jerked the sheathed muscle; he reveled in the ultimate slap of nuts on thigh as he better angled the eager body beneath him for his own devices.

"Ahh--"

The sharp call broke through the seamless barrier of their kiss, drawing a gasp from the slighter frame. Eyes clenched, lost in the purest pain he'd ever volunteered for, the pallid demi-prince wrapped deft arms around his elders neck. "Trun-nks…"

.o0o.
"Son!" They turned toward the voice, two pair of brows raised in curiosity. Smiling, they waved as though a unit, pausing in their pursuit of the one elevator that wasn't broken for the time being.

"Briefs-sama!"

"Briefs Ojiisan!!"

Duplicate grins spreading like wildfire across the light features of his guests, Dr. Briefs reached out to shake the young man's hand before bowing lightly and doing the same to his diminutive counterpart. "I saw that you had a little trouble at the security desk," his eyes were bright behind his lenses, whiskers of an over grown mustache rising with his grin, "so I thought I'd see to this myself." He pulled two laminated cards from the breast pocket of his omnipresent lab coat, handing them to the eager figures before him. "We're still getting our bearings in this new locale," he explained, "but perhaps this will help you a little next time, ne?"

Wrapping her slim arms around his waist, the youngest member of the Son clan grinned her approval. "Domo arigato, Briefs Ojiisan!!" Releasing him from her grasp with a sigh of satisfaction, Son Pan clutched the card close to her lithe frame. Carefully scrutinizing the details of the plastic coated image, she frowned, waving the card before her uncle's eyes. "Does this make me look fat, Oji-san?"

Eyes wide, a fearful look slipped over his features as Goten took a step back, completely taken by the query. "Na-nani?" Confusion and embarrassment ran ramped--typical reaction when one of his breeding had no idea how to deal in a situation. Saving the world was one thing he could do, but women…oy vey…

…This young man just…didn't have a taste for them….

Blinking his dim wit back to reality, Goten leaned forward, vigilant in his analysis of the security pass bearing the young girl's image. Shaking his head, he forced a warm smile--raising a hand to the back of his neck in search of solace... "Iie, Panny-chan! It looks great…!"

In point of fact, that was a lie.

She really did look fat…

The youngest Saiyan huffed, a tickle in her nose scrutinizing her uncle's placation. Just as she was about to pout, a high pitched ringing caught her ear. She watched her companion fluidly reach for the portable phone perpetually hidden in the little case clipped to his belt. Pan sighed heavily as her elder's face lit with his announcement--

"Parisu!! How have you been! I've been waiting for you to call!!"

Turning to the eldest in their posse, the diminutive brunette rolled her eyes, a heavy exhaler tossing her plain bangs into a fit. "Now we're never gonna get to see Trunks…"

Brow arched in good humor, the mature scientist with much too much time on his hands gestured for the juvenile lass to follow his lead. "Well, as I understand it," he folded his hands behind his back, turning to look at the girl as he talked, "they're in a meeting--for a while, anyhow…you're better off finding something else to do…"

.o0o.
harder faster deeper

"Trunks…"

sweat scent sweet

"Nnnggh…"

rake wrench reel

"Haaaaaiiii…"

twist twine tease

"Harder…make me cum…"

The chastising clash of heavenly bodies rubbing each muscle raw in their combined frenzy left no room for pain. The utter humility and eroticism of the entire engagement stole breath and desire, feeding the flame of lust and necessity in the dual breast of the forms fucking, fornicating, filial lust rising farther, faster, higher than dreams could ever reach….

"You like it…you love it…" The pastel tendrils of a prince indisposed clung feverishly to the back of his neck, the hot, staunch scent of sex and carnality churning the stagnant air trapped in a fragile bubble, oblivious to the outside world…

"Hai…hai…hai hai…more…." Sharp, solid thrusts forcing aching muscles and abused thighs apart under the strain--the burn deep inside only heightening with every twist, with every spasm as weariness stepped forth…

…only to be tossed aside in a fit of liquid gold….

.o0o.
"Nn. Nn." An accompanying head bob signaled his agreement as he slumped lightly against the doorframe. "Hai, Parisu…hai…" running an anxious hand through his high cropped hair, the enthusiastic Son continued his verbal affirmation, occasionally sliding along the walls of the endless hall to peek cautiously into open doors in search of the old man and the girl he'd managed to misplace not five minutes ago…

Missing: one pre-teen and one old genius. Both should be considered armed and mildly amusing.

"Nn." Dividing his attention between the incessant chatter and indomitable charm of the girl he once thought naïve, but cute, "Hai…ah, so…" and his surroundings, Goten paused, taking a breath of relief as he plopped down in a chair beside his newly located charge.

Looking curiously to her uncle, Pan smirked. "Have you gotten to say anything yet…?"

Rolling his eyes, he tried to ignore 'that look'--he always got it from Pan whenever he had the misfortune of speaking to Parisu in her presence. "Ah…Nn…Nn…."

A pause…a lull in the noises and half-hearted grunts he'd been barely been able to keep her happy with. "Really?" a word, one of only a handful. "Hai…sayonara, Parisu-chan…" The light beep of his cell ended their one-sided dialogue, and he turned to his niece, grin strained.

One brow raised, she put her magazine in her lap, blinking her surprise. "That was short."

"Hai," a nod stressed his reply.

"Bad news…?"

A shrug.

"Ah, so…" raising the oversized booklet to press against her cheek, she leaned up a bit, voice a forced whisper--the kind that could be heard from across a quiet room. "She still sick…? Still mad about that night..?"

A shake. "Iie. I think she's forgotten about it by now…"

Pan sat back, something like relief flooding her childish cheeks. "Good." She flipped to the next page in the article on skin care and how to avoid pimples for prom that she wasn't really reading. "How could you have known she was lactose intolerant, anyway," a snort, "'never had ice cream', indeed…" A sigh saw her slouch into the cold, uncomfortable seat as she flipped to the next page.

Interlocking his fingers, the youngest Son of Son Goku fought off a grumble in belly by muffling the audible cry with his hands. "Ah, well…" he deflated, shoulders slumping, eyes closing, "it's for the best. We always had a hard time agreeing on what to do, anyway…" looking to his niece with a forced smile he continued, "No use dwelling on it, ne?"

"Nn."

"We should probably get going, ne?"

"Nn."

An arched brow followed a quick scan of the hall. "Pan-chan…have you seen Briefs Ojiisan…?"

.o0o.
"Nnnn…"

"Hai…"

"Nngh…"

"Hai--saaa…saaa…"

Tooth.

Bit.

Clamp.

Hard.

Ochre.

Crimson.

Sunset.

Rest.

"Hai…"

A huff--pastel petals blown from his vision as the littlest prince closed his eyes. Scarlet silhouettes danced beneath his lids; taunt flesh fingering--

"Hai…"

--twisting tongues twining--

"Hm?"

--lavender lithe between fingers--

"Mmm…"

--cock hard against thigh--

"Nani?"

--flexing fucking conforming--

"Nothing."

--sweating swearing sucking--

"Sure as fuck sounds like something."

--thrusting…

"Hn. Vulgar."

Sparring…?

"Priss." A sock under the desk.

"Queen." The screech of a zipper's finality.

"Bitch." A button forced through its hole.

"Whore." A watch locked into place.

"Prick." The crack of stiff joints.

"Oi--that's 'Prick-san' to you, squirt." The tango of ties and digits.

"You fucking weirdo." The hush of fabric pulled against fabric. "Get the hell outta my office."

A pause, accompanied by a look.

"Prick-san."

"Hn." A smirk. "So that's what I have to do to get you to treat me with the respect befitting my station, ne?" The sharp slice of laces being tied. "Fuck you golden…?"

.o0o.
"Like french fries…?" His brow furrowed. "That's disconcerting, Panny-chan…"

A shrug. "It's true though. Every time you do it, I want fries," a finger drawn to her lip with an afterthought, "with ketchup. Lots of 'em..." she spread her arms to emphasize, "TONS of them…I can't explain it, Ojiisan…" She shook her head, shifting to lean on one shoulder against the cold steel of the elevator, eyes never once leaving the numbers above the door--watching as they lit in their moment of glory, only to blink out of existence as the lift traveled diligently upward.

"Yeah…well…" he was distracted--and slightly unsettled, "every time…? I mean, I don't change all that often…" He fiddled with the clip on the back of his phone, instinct telling him to call Trunks-kun and let him know they were coming…he couldn't figure out where the desire was coming from--or why it was so…strong…

The chill in her shoulder spreading, the youngest Son pushed up from her casual stance--crossing her arms and adopting the posture of the eldest prince. She shook her short, dark mop, brushing stray strands from the corner of her mouth as she continued. "Doesn't change the fact that every time you go super Saiyan, I want french fries, Ojiisan."

He sighed and let his shoulders droop, nimble fingers sliding the phone back into its casing as the lift began to slow. Anything he said at that point would be moot--the girl was hungry--and frankly, so was he. Opting for silence, he straightened as the automated voice announced their floor, and the doors opened, virtually soundless.

"Goten?"

The Son blinked twice, wondering how in the hell Trunks had managed to double his voice over. "Dude…!"

"Trunks…kun…?" Pan was obviously just as wigged out.

A sharp smirk saw a double image as not one Briefs, but two, strode forward--the elder stepping to the side to compensate for his companion's slightly smaller stature.

The enlightened Saiya-jins blinked, turning in awe toward one another…wondering, though brief-ly…whether the rumors about Capsule Corp Cloning were true….

Taking the initiative, Trunks-the-slighter closed his office door, adjusted his tie and threw a 'knowing' eye toward his regal counterpart. "I dinnit expect you two up here--we dinnit expect up here."

Pour on the charm, and no one will know…

Pan piped up with a grin. "We were just--"

"--on our way to lunch. Wanna join in?" The darker prince ran a hand through his hair as he delivered the killing blow. Smiling for the cameras, he stepped into the elevator, one brow raised, suave.

Calm, cool, collected…

"YATTA!" Pan all but jumped through the roof--lunch with not one, but two of her most sought after companions? Could it get any better? She smiled blissfully as Trunks joined them, unabashedly looping her arm through one of his.

If she could get any happier, she'd burst…

Trunks picked a piece of lint from his sleeve. "You feeling all right, Pan-chan…?" He squinted, stooping to her level. "You look a little…flushed…"

"Ehhhhh…I'm fine, Tru--"

"--CHOO!!" His eyes were watering, his nose was running, and he honestly felt as if he'd just been gang-banged by allergy season.

"Son-kun…?"

"Oi, Go-chan--you all right, man? You…need a tissue er somethin'…?"

Shaking his head, Goten pinched the bridge of his nose. "Iie…I'm fine." He sniffed, mouth lolling open with the false hope of another sneeze. Good Dende-sama…what the fuck was that smell… Closing his eyes, he leaned against the wall in desperate need of stabilizing support.

Swaying mildly, the automated voice once more announced their destination. The doors opened and Pan dragged her would-be beau into the cafeteria, chatting on about what she planned to wear to prom.

In seven years, when she got to go, that is…

"Oi, Son-kun." A warm hand on his shoulder helped bring him a little clarity. Opening his eyes, he started slightly at the sudden proximity of his cohort's mirai counterpart. "We're here--you hungry?" A smile led him through the threshold and allowed the waiting riders their turn in the elevator. He looked around, slightly dazed, a nod acting as sole answer to the question posed by the man before him.

Pausing, he eyed the pale potentate, light bulb of recognition slowly flickering above his head. Good gods…was that…? Did he just smell what he thought he--

"Oi! 'ji-chan!!"

"Huh?" turning toward the voice, attention drawn, Goten sucked a sharp breath.

"You coming?" Mirai no Trunks motioned ahead of himself, indicating the most direct path for the staggered Son to take.

"H…Hai…" He slowly moved forward, turning to steal a glance at the elevator. But apparently not as eagerly as you two were…


Song: Heaven by Golden Palaminos

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