Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Boys ❯ Boys ( Chapter 1 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

By: Caprice

A/N: So no, this isn't a How to Make Love to a Saiyan update! (oh gasp) It's one of those little fics that somehow spring in my mind and I just feel like I gotta get them out of my system. I woke up one day, fairly recently, and all I could do for some reason was think of Trunks and Goten. I admit I love the idea of this pairing and it's so weird `cause come on, I don't write yaoi, I don't read yaoi, and all of a sudden bam, I was on the yaoi wagon writing this one. Beats me, honestly. Anyway, this is getting to be too long but I just wanted to say if I were a guy I'd be gay for these two. I genuinely don't know how many people like the pairing, as it seems too many say it's quite obvious. Well I don't know if it's obvious but to me Trunks and Goten together is too hot to pass on. So to quit my incessant blabbering, here you go, mainly as something I just had to write at some point. A two part yaoi fic. Chapter two will be up in a few days. (It's already typed up btw). Trunks: 17 years old, Goten: 16. Right around the end of DBZ, Trunks still sporting long hair a la Mirai Trunks before it got cut into his usual style. Oh an also, strong language ahead, no complaining please. If you don't like strong sexual things and have sensitive ears or eyes don't read. Part two features sex between guys. There I said it.

Boys

By Caprice

Part 1

It was resplendent like a little globe in the middle of the darkness, that half-moon of a tent, standing out proudly in the woods. No movement within to the eye, not a shadow, not a twitch or a semblance of any inhabitants, yet the hot and humid air of this summer licked its outer surface as if wanting to touch them, the two souls that sat inside. It swirled around the dome, rustling the grass around it, making the last smoldering ashes of what had been a brightly lit bonfire a mere hours ago scatter away.

It was different tonight, as if the entire world was expectant, crickets chirping softly the tune of the night and creatures hiding in their burrows, their dens or amid the bushes. They watched from beneath the sheets of black in total quietude, for before them, concealed by the smooth fabric of that temporary dwelling breathed two mightier creatures. And they could sense their power, and it was infinite… and so the night wrapped around that place snugly and it waited… and it listened.

“Haaaaaa the mighty Trunks ouji?? Stood up in front of the entire high school like a helpless little chump?? Ooh, shit, that's my girl Mary Anne haha. Never thought the day would come were you would actually wind up looking like a complete ass!” Goten threw his hands to the air and barked out a hearty laughter, so loud Trunks could do little but wince and recoil in that tight little corner of the tent were he sat sulking away. It was cozy in here, warm and fuzzy due to the glow of the metal lantern that stood bravely in the middle of the two inflatable mattresses, with their rumpled blankets and the mess of clothes that lay about. It was where the two Saiyans had been sleeping on for a good couple of days and now it showed the effects of teenage boys and their unkempt manners. Yes it was cozy, but a dash of that icy blue gaze of Trunks Briefs seemed to almost bring down the temperature, the flame flickering as if in fear of what he would retaliate with, as if it knew just what kind of a temper bubbled inside that strong reckless heart.

“Shut up you dunce. It's not as if the entire high school was there to witness it. It should be okay in the end. I mean, I know a few people were aware that I had been pursuing her and that we were supposed to meet at the front steps to go out on that first date but it shouldn't be such a huge deal. It's not as if the whole place will find out.” He spoke through luscious lips that were plump and moist as he bit on them, a boyish gleam making his blue orbs quiver slightly. Was he trying to convince himself or trying to convince his friend? He wished he knew, but all he could feel know was that slow, heavy uneasiness of shame crawl into his belly like a slippery cold serpent. And the sensation only sunk in deeper as Goten humphed and laughed again mercilessly all the while seeming like he was in the uttermost enjoyment of his misery.

“A few people? A few people. Trunks, if this was John Doe we were talking about then I might be willing to believe your little rant, but it isn't is it? You know as well as I do the entire student and teacher population of that place must already know every single juicy detail. Worse than that, I'm sure you'll be lucky if the thing doesn't hit the front news of the city tabloids. That placed is obsessed with you, the jocks and the girls and even Mrs. Plummperlinden, did you forget about that little library incident already? She was probably riling when she found out what Mary Anne did to you. Like you got what you deserved.” He leaned in lowering his pitch, talking while two wide midnight eyes gleamed in his direction. They held such a spark, such a spunk Trunks always marveled at them. Limpid and clear as two onyx crystals that spoke of nothing but innocence and could always tell him the truth. As biting as it was.

Yes, Goten was different to the people at the toughest mother of all upper class private schools in West City, Tealton. And not for the first time, Trunks was glad the other boy didn't have the money to attend such a place. It just wasn't like him, as if the sole idea of Goten among the Calvin Klein fragrant aisles was just something unfathomable. He always smelled like almonds and the outdoor breeze. He didn't wear the latest gear or rode the shiniest new Harley like most of his other friends did. He went to a regular school, one that didn't place tacit heavy expectations on its members. It showed in that carefree way he lived life and… and that relaxed, irritating smile that he graced him with. He was enjoying his misery the little runt, so amused at the fact that he had been brought down a peg or two today.

“Plummperlinden's a bitch.” Trunks spat, two voluminous blue flames waving majestically at the raven-haired boy at the other end of the tent. “She's nothing but a fat whore that I wish I could just… I could just punch in the face.”

“Huh… but the way you describe her, it's as if no man would be able to resist her charms.” Goten smirked, placing his strong forearms on his knees as he spoke in a syrupy tone that bellowed sarcasm. “What was it again? Oh yah, big curly hair the color of rusted hinges and a graciously round figure that seems to bounce with every move. And the muumuu… aw come on, Taarunkssss, You gotta love the muumuu. Nothing sexier than that stuff over those skintight leggings of hers as they hug her thick, thick calves.”

“Shut up, you wanna make me retch? I'll go retch in your duffel bag if you keep at it.” He grumbled, bouncing a fist sized rubber ball repeatedly on the uneven surface he was sitting in. Gods, he could be so irritating sometimes.

“How could you have possibly resisted her? Hmm? When she said…” He heightened the pitch of his voice until it acquired that incisive tone of an old witch.” “Trunks Vegeta Briefs… your grades on the midterm history test are nothing but deplorable. For that you might even flunk the semester… but why don't you make it to me.”

Trunks flexed the muscles in his torso as he leaned forward. “Stop…” He said in a low reverberating warning that made him resemble Vegeta way too much in Goten's opinion. “Trunks… you and I could do some extracurricular activities here in the library if you want, you know, have a little fun while at it. I can help you get that grade.” Goten brushed an imaginary moustache over his upper lip as he teased insolently, knowing Trunks was well at his wits end. He was sitting there fuming and looking every bit as if he was about to pounce on him and leave him bruised for his unwavering mockery.

And he was very right, for Trunks balled his hands into tight fists, one squeezing the rubber ball in earnest. His disheveled lilac hair was done in a messy ponytail at the nape of his neck, very tight leather pants molding to powerful legs and thick thighs.

He did remind the younger Saiya-jin of his prince of a father, so damn proud and arrogant, dark and easily excitable at times. And his body too, it was the same length as his own, but he was a bit more muscled, while Goten was somehow leaner. His skin was like velvet tan, golden caramel poured over iron tight muscles that quivered in rage just about now. He was always irascible, reckless, a king of abandonment and exploit. A vandal and a playboy and the toughest most rebellious motherfucker to ever grace Tealton. Of that he was sure. That high school kept being turned upside down by his friend's constant pushing of the boundaries, his rebelliousness and escapades… and Goten was quite sure they'd have expelled him a dozen times before if they only weren't so afraid of his power and his money…. and the prospect of being toilet papered from its bases to the highest tower. In short, he was nothing but a doer of evil.

“I would have kicked Plummperlinden's ass if I could have, believe me. That is not a woman, that is a monster. Yeah I was forced to endure her never-ending advances while she held me hostage every single day after class, reviewing history of Chikyuu, but what the hell was I supposed to do. And yeah, God yeah I had to give her a fucking foot massage alright? Damn brilliant of me to have let you in on that humiliating piece of information. “ He stretched his body with the grace of a feline while he spoke, his black button shirt creasing as he searched for something inside his own backpack… and he was looking for it frenetically. “I just couldn't hear my mom go off again about my “irreparable behavior”. She was worse than me when young. I don't get her at times. And father, dammit, Goten, I don't even wanna go there.”

There was a distinct awe and fear that always tensed up Trunks muscles every time he talked about Vegeta. Goten saw it over and over again and he was sometimes at a loss of what to think about that. It wasn't that same heartwarming, deep running coziness he felt when thinking about his own dad. Nah, this was a perturbing yet interesting sense of anxiety and… pride. Something so complex it was difficult to read, like the pages of a book that was scrambled and ran infinitely long.

“What in the world are you looking for??” Goten stretched his jean clad legs and braced his weight on wide palms as he peered over the backpack seeing Trunks pull something that looked like a tiny white bag out of it.

“What… nothing that concerns you, now go away Go-chan” He said, with a morbid little grin etched firmly on the soft well defined lips. He opened up his legs and unearthed a small flat square silver dish that glistened like a mirror from the depths of the bag. The flame of the small lamp reflected on it and bounced unto Goten's suspecting eyes making him nearly wince in pain. “I told you not to call me Go-chan!” He couldn't take his eyes off Trunks fingers as he skillfully beat the white flour-like powder unto the dish in two lines that spanned its length. He then grabbed a black credit card from his back pocket and chopped up the powder until it was arranged into flawless columns.

“Shut up.” He said simply, smiling wickedly again and throwing the remainder of his very expensive little hobby on the black backpack while pulling out something that looked like a regular plastic straw cut in half.

Goten's cheeks dimpled as his face contorted into a wry expression of disgust, his flawless milky complexion creasing as he groaned loudly into the tight air of the tent. He ran a flustered hand over the unruly mess that was his shoulder length hair, locks and locks of jet black silk that framed his face in sharp contrast to his pale skin. The uneven ends only enhanced his face, the wide boyish eyes, deep wine lips and innocent appeal. He was pretty, far too pretty, more so than the girls he dated. And quite annoying when he wanted to be, thought Trunks, when he realized what was about to be belted unto him with the force of a whirlwind. Oh here it comes…

“Stop that shit Trunks! How many times am I gonna have to tell you I HATE you doing that in front of me. Don't do it.” He said, reminding him of that little boy a third of his current size and the tantrums he threw when faced with yet another one of his nasty wrongdoings. Haha, adorable chibi… always so obsessed with being a good little momma's boy.

“You don't tell me what to do…” Trunks eyes flashed defiantly as he leaned over, positioning the straw in his nostril and snorting one line from the silvery dish which was adeptly placed between raised thighs. He reared his face and threw his head back while continuing to inhale repeatedly, wrinkling his nose and fluttering his eyelids in the process. “You don't fuckin tell me what to do.” And with that he laughed… that same half-insane laughter of sheer malice that Goten was so used to hearing since he was a child. When he did something he shouldn't have done, when his troubled heart poured over in the shape of a demonized doing. He didn't know if he should punch him, if he should hug him. All he knew is a world and a half of conflict coursed through his friend's veins.

“You fuckin disgust me, and you should know better than doing it in my presence. If I had known I wouldn't have camped with you.” Goten pouted, his eyes raised in concern. He felt bitter bile touch the back of his throat, his blood freezing cold as Trunks only chuckled, repositioning his head down and snorting a second line with the skill of a true pro. The lavender haired youth only sighed and leaned back again, feeling the sweet caress of ecstasy slowly devour his reason… the powder settling at the back of his tongue, the night turning to stereo.

Goten wanted to storm out, yet something anchored him there. Was the life of a privileged boy such as Trunks much more complicated? Son of two very wild, screwed up parents and heir to millions. Living in the eye of the hurricane and knowing he'd be holding the reins of a multi-billion zeni empire. Royalty and slave at the same time and probably unable to understand just who the hell he was supposed to be in the very end. If only they weren't so different. His rich boy antics and nasty habits sometimes sickened him, so so much more then they should. And as he saw him lay there with his head against the soft fabric of the tent, riding a sensual trip of his neurotransmitters, he felt a pang of genuine pain slash through his heart.

“Mmm… Go-chan…” He kept laughing, sliding down slightly, the threads of lilac hair matting against his damp forehead as he closed his eyes in rapture. He wiped his nose with the back of his hand and snorted to make sure there wasn't a little speck of white left for his eyes to behold. “That bitch Mary Anne is a damn cunt. Why didn't she want me.” His muscles relaxed, as he danced about waves of euphoria. “Everyone does, everyone… and she didn't, but you know what's worse…” He opened glassy eyes to witness the lively spectacle of beauty that was Goten, sitting there clenching his jaw in tension. His sidekick, his brother. He was suspended in air, glowing like an angel of judgment looking at him with disgruntled humor. A star, he was a star, of power of glory… Trunks, laughed some more, a breathless laughter that buoyed from the depths of his chest as he let himself be consumed in it. Life was so funny. Funny. He was funny, and Goten was funny, and oh… soft… as he crawled over to lay his face on his friends lap, still barking out in joyous contentment. “I didn't want her either. I just wanted to get laid.”

“Like you always do.” Goten said, not moving from his stony position as his dark gaze moved into a scowl and he crossed his arms over his chest. He wasn't swayed by the way his friend nuzzled his crotch, abandoned to the high of the drug. He didn't like it when he did this, becoming a puppet to its effects. The hands of the prince grabbed unto the sides of Goten's thighs as he chuckled some more. “All you care about is sex and drugs and nothing more than that. You don't even train anymore Trunks. Geez, I know I was never much for training either, and dad had to force me into it most of the time, but at least I make a point of doing so as often as I can. You don't spar with me anymore, and getting you to come on this camping trip was damn difficult.” Goten pressed his lips together, unwilling to touch his friend.

“Don't be mad at me Go-chan. I'd never just… abandon you. You are fuckin' useless without me.” And he laughed again, burying his face on his lap and muffling the sound due to it.

“Get off of me… you're stoned.” Goten, grabbed his friend's shoulder's and forced him to raise his torso… and he saw that tortured smile strewn across the beautiful countenance of his moistened tanned features.

Trunks spoke into Goten's face. “You've never been stood up have you? They run after you. And even if they did, you'd never be laughed at in school, no one knows your name, and no one cares. The whole world wouldn't need to know. You are a petty little farmer boy that smells of cattle and grass HAHA” He grabbed his thighs laughing so hard he blew a few of Goten's bangs out of the way. He seemed immerse in a sort of possessed glee. “Sometimes I don't even know why I hang out with you. You little piece of backwater trash.”

Goten's delicate face contorted into sheer misery, looking at his friend behind quivery eyes and an expression that spoke utter pain. “Go to hell Trunks, you're nothing but a pampered little brat with too much money on his hands and no brains to handle it. You're spoiled and indulgent and nothing but sick and disgusting, no wonder you were stood up like that. You're nothing but a world class asshole!” He shoved him away violently, awakening a flicker of rage in the sea colored eyes.

“Don't do that…. Don't say that! DON'T TOUCH ME!” Trunks threw himself on the majestically lit beauty of the other Saiyan, wanting to rip him to shreds, to tear those pretty-boy, delicate features off him. He was blinded, furious, and frantic, beating his friend (or foe?) in absolute rage as he got beat back with equal force, and they tussled and turned in the confinement of the tent, bruising each other in the process. Goten, gritted his teeth, gnashing them as tightly as possible as he managed to gain a position of advantage and straddle Trunks while choking him with strong hands. How dare he say such horrible things… how dare he… God, why?

“I hate you Trunks” He said through his teeth, powerful fingers straining against the muscled column that was the other boy's throat. He wrestled with the excitable temper of his sixteen years of age, the hormones and testosterone that rushed through his Saiyan blood and made it boil to an exploding level. Trunks could do this to him, no one else. He could get under his skin, he could use and abuse him and insult and drag him around like a useless rag and he was done with it. He was done with putting up with him leaving and abandoning him… abandoning himself to his dangerous behavior. He wanted to kill him right there and then, so deeply lost under the veil of rage he was.

Trunks grabbed his wrists, the skin of the other boy so satiny to the touch; he couldn't help but revel in its feel. Losing the ability to breathe was oddly pleasurable, it was heightening his every sense, adding to the flames of the drugs that had already placed his nerve endings on edge. His eyes rolled back and he threw his head back as well, gasping for air, kneading his friend's forearms as he felt life seep away.

“Fuckin kill me then…” He rasped, barely out of breath… raising his hips and suspending Goten with them. He strained for air, he made choking noises and his chest heaved, every muscle wrestling to live, yet his spirit clamored for more, more of this sweet release that such skillful hands were professing. He felt alive right now, ironically so. He felt alive under the touch of these hands and about to face certain doom. It was all good now, no ability to think or reason, and he riled in it, on the utter abandonment of his life to this… this high. He licked his lips in delight.

He licked his lips?! Goten's eyes widened. The little gesture of self-deprecating loathing as Trunks savored his own defilement managed to snap him out of his trance. He let go, lips parted and moistened by his own saliva and that's when he noticed he'd been doing exactly the same thing. He'd been licking his lips in delight at the feeling wrought by the insanity. He felt sticky and ugly, realizing he'd stooped to the same crazed out level of his companion, basking in destruction, helping him destruct himself. He scrambled back and beheld him shaken as his friend braced his weight on his forearms and moved trembling fingers to touch the soreness of his neck.

“What's the problem, you little pussy. Can't get the deed done? I thought you said you hated me?” He grinned, tripped up and insane under the never wavering effect of his drug and self-loathing. “You whipped ass little sissy.”

The muscles in Goten's jaw moved, fierce, hot steamy breath oozing from the confines of his mouth at the intolerable insults spewing from his poisonous tongue.

“Come on… little pussy… haha, little pussy cat.” He untied the tangle that was his ponytail, loosening the sweaty tangles of his lavender hair. “Get the deal done.” Oh the world was spinning, life was a Technicolor swirl of emotions that moved in circles like a Russian roulette and it went round and round… the stars were clashing with earth, the world was shaking with every crash and Goten was at the very center. Eyebrows scrunched together, breathing raggedly.

“Your heart's beating, you want to do it.” He crawled up to him, looking at him through the storm and lightning of his big blue eyes. Every muscle bulged as he neared the tensed up body of the shirtless boy whose pale skin, whose gorgeous muscles seemed aglow with the light of a million fairies. “Do you ever realize why it is I get you into so much trouble little one?” Trunks dragged his limbs against the messed up blankets and the strewn pieces of clothing in the tight place as he moved to kneel very close to him. “Because you're a craven little push over? Hm? Or is it because you like it? Oh I am nasty and evil am I not, I am that wicked little boy, like your momma says. I get you in trouble bla bla.” He waved absently before refocusing ferocious eyes on his prey. “You tell me why you're here then, no one forces you to put up with me. No one forces you to look as I kill myself. No one puts a goddamned pistol against your temple.” His eyes were lost; they were unfocused as he cornered him. “If you truly hate me, then come on…” He swayed his torso back as he knelt before him. “Haha, come on… put me out of my misery with your very pure immaculate hands Go-chan.”

“Don't call me that”. Goten, said between his teeth.

“Hmm, hmmm bad answer low class baby boy. You get on my nerves. I am asking you a question, lemme rephrase it.” Trunks slurred his words as he felt the synapses in his brain firing up. “Do you like it or do you hate it. You decide. But you can't change me.”

Low class… he sounded like his father more and more everyday. And Goten's heart scrunched into a tight ball, his innards contracting in deep felt pain as he saw him there, confused and mangled, broken wings and a lost expression. High and low and wanting to die.

“Hmm?” Trunks bent over bracing his weight on his fists, so close to Goten he could feel his heat oppressing him unbearably. He was sweating, and he looked… he looked so tired and broken.

“What's the matter with you” Goten's soft voice swirled around the other boy's face, the compassion and concern in it hiking up Trunks' irrational rage. That's when he grabbed the black threads of Goten's hair and pulled his head back so he could look into his eyes.

“Answer the damn question baby boy.” He said between labored breaths. The words baby boy spat with derision, sending chills of something inexplicable up Goten's spine. Trunks smiled, his eyes closed. “Answer…answer the damn question.” Rock music, exploded inside his head, as the drug exalted his senses into heavenly bliss. All he wanted was answers… it's all. He wanted them so badly.

Goten dragged his kneeling legs closer to him, until they were face to face, breathing heavily into each others cheeks. The mass of convoluted emotions made the younger one bring his head down, noses practically touching, both closing their eyes. But the heartbeat, it pounded mercilessly against their chests. “You're a fairy.” Trunks whispered, wincing as if he weighted three times his body, as if he was in unbearable pain.

Goten grabbed his shoulders, pressed his sweaty forehead against Trunks' dampened one. “Don't.” Was Trunks whisper, so very tiny it was almost lost to his hearing. And those fingers… what were those fingers doing as they begun unbuttoning that first barrier of his shirt. One button… and another one, slowly trekking south, one by one, another one. And Trunks shivered, feeling sick, and exhilarated at the same time. “Answer me” He pleaded… weakly.

Trunks vulnerable, it was such a rare occurrence, such a strange little jewel to witness Goten couldn't help but smile bitterly. And that last button, he nearly halted before releasing it from its bondage. There was no room for thought, no room for questioning whatever it was he was doing. Oh Kami, what the hell was he doing… what the hell was his hand doing.

He slipped the silk shirt off his friend's wide, muscled shoulders, a slow irreverent pleasure budding somewhere in the pit of his belly. It was like a fountain, that trickled right now but that threatened to explode into a waterfall.

His mouth was dry, as Trunks knelt there, frowning with his eyes closed, a perfect torso exposed just like Goten. He had gone quiet, allowing some sort of mystifying blanket to cover them both, rendering them mute.

Goten brushed his cheek against Trunks', issuing chopped up breaths as if mortified… as if tortured because he just couldn't give him a proper answer to his questions. All he could do was… was this… unfasten his expensive buckle with shaky fingers. All he felt like doing was reaching for that clasp of the boy's pants, for that zipper. And when he grabbed the tiny metal square between his thumb and index fingers a bolt of electricity coursed through Trunks' body, making his chest quiver. He was shaking too, he could feel it against his cheek.

One might suppose that moment when setting free the tools of lust and pleasure, that one definitive moment when choosing whether to drop down that barrier of clothing or not can sometimes be the most difficult. It can be the turning point in anyone's life… the beating hearts and frenzied desires, and yet the doubt. It felt every bit as sweet and sour with them, like a world and a half rested between Goten's fingers as he faltered, not moving his hand down. Yes or no… yes… yes or no…

And suddenly the younger boy felt a heated hand cover his own. Goten nuzzled Trunks neck, their chests rising and falling together. He scrunched his nose, not really knowing what his partner's final judgment would be, the blow he'd deliver in the middle this sweet little nonsense of developments, of this nirvana.

And Trunks laced his fingers with Goten's and he pushed down, the sound of the fly opening permeating the stillness around them. The black-haired boy exhaled through parted lips. They had gone so dry… and they felt so sensitive all of a sudden, and it was for this craving, this insane, horrifying craving for his friend's touch.

“I… am not like you baby boy.” Trunks breathed, with a snide little smile playing on his gorgeous features. “I am not queer.” He flattened his palms against the mattress and opened his eyes to behold a very troubled Goten. And so he chuckled, for the first time feeling a tad more in control of his motor functions. He looked so funny, hovering over him like that, beautifully shaped black eyebrows lifted and heart beating like he was running some sort of race. He was sweating bullets. He looked terrified, and damn hilarious.

“Hm? What the hell you about to do, queer boy?” Trunks could be so cruel, the bastard. Goten frowned in sheer contrition, looking down at his hand still holding his friend's zipper all the way down. He could see Trunks' indentations between the hipbones and lower belly… could see he had chosen not to wear any sort of underwear. They had seen each other naked so many times this shouldn't be any different, yet somehow, it was. The head of his… of his… oh it was peering.

“Me neither. I am not… I…” Goten pulled his hand back as if the heat on Trunks' crotch had become unbearable. “I am not… you know I am not...”

Trunks expression was unreadable. It only seemed as if he was somewhat amused. His reason wasn't as hindered by the magic powder anymore but the excitability remained, the overly charged nerves that clamored for a sweet release of, well a sexual kind.

“Oh.” Trunks' cheek twitched, reminding the other boy of just how insanely handsome he was, even in this maddened and wrecked state. Guys wanted to be him, often mimicking his every quirk. Women were obsessed with him, even ones who were so much older.

Goten had had his own share of girlfriends, he'd even already lost his virginity (may Kami spare his mother's nerves from such knowledge for now and forever. She'd be best thinking he'd died a eunuch.) But he hadn't lost it at such a tender age of thirteen as Trunks had. Man, he was crazy, and he'd done it with the neighbor, on his parent's bed. Not that he suspected that place to be sacrosanct or anything, more likely than not that bed had seen more wondrous acts than any other place in the planet but Vegeta had smelled the sex from miles afar and rendered him such a punishment he hadn't been able to sit on his ass for an entire week.

No, Goten's experiences hadn't been that robust. He'd started later, this year actually, and only done it with one girl thus far. He'd loved it. Oh that sweet tight little nook was such perfection, such bliss… but he still was fighting with his senses, dazed to say the least at the way... at this way he felt.

Trunks, smirked, big and wide, looking just like his father before moving to stand on his feet a little hunched over due to the low height of the tent. He pulled his pants down right before Goten's eyes, rolling them to his ankles. He wasn't erected, thank God, well, only slightly. The member was half flaccid, but still prominent in that size Goten knew all too well. Undressing together was really nothing new.

“Goten, I'm going skinny dipping thank you very much. You can stay here and wallow into a pathetic little ball of misery if you want.” He tore the pants off his feet and stood there, like a wicked statue, naked… so naked, inches and inches of skin that kept being licked by the glow of the lantern. The shadows danced over his body, over the sensuous ripped chest and arms that had been bestowed upon him by both alien and royal heritage.

And with that he took off, leaving Goten sitting there, a puzzled look in his eye.

End of Part 1

A/N: Comments, questions, gimme a shout.