Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Cold As Ice ❯ Pan's Advance ( Chapter 4 )

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

Hmm, things haven't changed much since they were kids, have they? Well, okay, maybe a little… Trunks is no longer an adorable little boy, but a gorgeous young Saiyan with all the *coughs* appetites of the race. And Goten seems to have inherited Goku's honor and self control, paired with his own sweet, dark hotness. But Trunks can still kick Goten's butt! Must be the Vegeta in him… Anyway, I'm rambling. Get on with it! Fun stuff coming up next!!

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No one asked Trunks about his actions that day. His parents respected his privacy, Goten's family respected his, and Bra and Pan already knew. As a group, the Z Fighters and their children, dubbed "Generation Z", by Krillin, made their way on foot back to the hotel. They were moving slowly, talking amongst themselves, the adults up ahead and Generation Z a ways behind, but still within sight. All of them, adults and kids alike, swung around to look when someone called out. "Hey!" A tall, slim blond woman was coming toward them, a smile on her face. Bra raised her eyebrow as she sidled up to Trunks, slipping her hands under his jacket and caressing his chest. "I missed you this morning, lover," she purred. "Get off me," Trunks said, coldly, his eyes like chips of ice. The blond frowned and glanced at Bra. "Is this your girlfriend then? Do you do to her what you did with me? Does she like it when you start glowing?" she asked, eyeing Bra, nastily. Then, her eyes narrowed further, as Bra smirked a small, smart-ass smirk, one all the Z Fighters recognized. "You do, don't you? You're just a kid! You little slu-" Her words stopped abruptly as a palm connected soundly with her face.

Bra's hand lowered to her side, slowly, as her hair began to lift, in an invisible wind. Her eyes flashed teal and she clenched her fists, and then Trunks was in front of her, his hand gripping the blonde's shoulder. "Get away from my sister," he spat. "She's too good for you to even speak to." "Thanks, but I can handle this, Trunks," said Bra, pushing her brother aside. Fully powered up, the Super She-Saiyan was impressive to behold. Her hair floated around her, as if she were under water, white-blond in color and her energy shimmered in the air. Everyone present saw the energy ball begin to build in her hand and as one, they drew a collective breath, waiting for what would happen. Simultaneously, they released the air trapped in their lungs, as a strong, commanding hand clamped down on Bra's wrist. Bra glanced up at her father, also powered up. The Ki blast in her hand disappeared and she leaned against Vegeta, pouting. Vegeta's eyes turned on the blond who had insulted his daughter and she cowered. "Stay away from my son and further from my daughter, or you will cease to exist," he said, evenly. Sliding an arm around Bra, he turned and led his family and their friends away from the girl, who had melted into a puddle of "Oh Shit" on the ground. As he and Bra powered down, he glanced at Bulma, who was watching both him and Trunks, alternately curious and angry. Inwardly cursing that he would have to explain this to his wife after so many years of saying nothing about his son's trysts with various girls, he turned a glare on Trunks. "Do it if you must, but keep them far away from your sister and your mother," he growled. Trunks nodded, glancing hesitantly at his mother. Bulma's penetrating stare made him look immediately away.

"So, you mean to say that all these years it's been your excess energy and not that you find me irresistible?" asked Bulma, her arms crossed. Vegeta groaned. "You know I find you irresistible, woman. Don't complicate matters. I only told you to explain why Trunks does the things he does." "And how long has this been going on?" she asked, tapping one toe. "A while," he hedged. "How long, Vegeta? How old was our son when he started taking these Tournament Tramps to his bed?!" She was almost shouting at him. He almost smiled as the crude term, usually reserved for the fighters, came out of his wife's beautiful mouth, but stopped himself in time. "It doesn't matter," he said, standing and moving toward her. She backed away, knowing if he got his hands on her it would all be over. Easily, he caught her. "Tell me!" she demanded, as he grabbed her upper arms and pulled her against him. Without thought, she slid her arms around his neck. "Tell you what? That I want you? I do. That you're mine? You are. That I'm going to throw you down on that bed and make love to you until you can't walk? I am." He did.

Trunks was startled when he walked out of his bathroom, a towel around his waist and found his sister sitting on his bed. "What do you want?" he asked, crossing his arms over his bare chest. "To tell you that from now on, what I do is none of your business. You've been hopping from bed to bed with these women for years, Trunks, so you have no room to talk about me and Goten or anyone else I choose," she said, standing up. Her eyes were flashing with anger. "He has no right to touch you," Trunks said, stiffly, knowing she was right, but still angry. "He has every right, if I invite him too," Bra said, archly. "Don't you dare," Trunks said, taking an alarmed step toward her. If Bra made an invitation like that, no hot-blooded Saiyan male would be able to say no, including Goten. Bra was a She-Saiyan, after all. "Dad'll kill him," he said, playing the only card he had left. "And mom will kill you if I tell her you've been sleeping around since you were 13," she said, smugly. Trunks' eyes narrowed. "How do you know that?" he asked, quietly. "Goten kept a journal for a few years. Pan read it. I know a lot," Bra said. Cursing his best friend under his breath, Trunks turned away. "Get out, Bra and stay away from Goten." "Don't tell me what to do, Trunks," she warned, and then was gone.

Pan watched Bra leave the hotel room and, catching the door before it was all the way shut, she slipped inside. "Bra, I told you to get out!" Trunks yelled, spinning around. The look on his face was pure shock when he saw Pan standing there. "What the hell are you doing here?" he asked, taken aback. Pan opened her mouth to speak, but found she couldn't. Her tongue was suddenly stuck to the roof of her mouth. His hair dripping from t he shower, hanging, unruly, into his eyes, water droplets running down his muscular, well-defined chest, towel slung around his waist, hanging precariously low on his hips, Trunks was definitely what Bra would have called "yummy" (if he wasn't her brother, of course!). Eyes wide, like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car, Pan stared at his face. A chiseled jaw, high cheekbones, exotic Saiyan eyes, slightly upturned nose, and full, generous lips. She swallowed, hard. She realized that this was what Vegeta would look like to someone who wasn't scared of him and no longer wondered what Bulma had been thinking when she married the Saiyan Prince. "Well?" he asked, crossing his arms. His annoyance was gone, replaced by curiosity. It didn't even cross his mind that he was mostly naked, alone in a room with Goten's niece. If it had, he probably would have laughed, knowing Goten would do exactly as he had done that day, if he ever found out. "I- um," Pan said, swallowing the lump in her throat at last. He waited, one eyebrow arched, questioningly.

Trunks was too startled to react when she took a step toward him and was suddenly there, sliding her arms around his neck and pressing her lips against his. His arms uncrossed and slid around her, without him even realizing it. Dumbstruck, he kissed her back, tasting her inexperience and deepening the kiss. She opened for him, granting him leave to slip between her lips and into the heat of her mouth. Her taste was intoxicating, sweet and his hands slid down her back and caressed the curve of her bottom, then up, to tangle in her hair. One hand locked in her dark tresses, the other trailed over her shoulder and down, to caress her breasts. Her surprised gasp brought him sharply back to reality and he quickly stumbled back, away from her, his eyes wide with horror at what he had been about to do. "Pan," he gasped. "Wha-" "Trunks, please, don't stop," she said, stepping toward him again. He shook his head. "No, I- you- we can't," he said, finally. "Why not?" she asked. Because you're Gohan's daughter! Goten's niece! My sister's best friend! You're Pan! The reasons echoed in his head, but he didn't voice them. She would only counter them all and that wouldn't be good. "Because," he said, as the idea came to him. What he was going to do wouldn't be pretty and he didn't want to do it to her, but he wasn't in to suicide. "You're just a kid, Pan. If you want to play adult games, go find someone else your own age to do it with. I'm not into virgins," he said, coldly. "But, we-" she began, hurt in her eyes. That look was like a physical blow, but he went on, stubbornly. "What, the kiss? Did you like that? Yeah, I guess I could teach you a thing or two to use on a guy. When you get a boyfriend you could show him a great time," he said, flippantly. Tears shimmered in her dark eyes and she backed into the door, then turned and ran from the room. Trunks let out a breath and sank onto his bed. "Shit," he muttered, to himself. It had been a very long day.

He'd almost killed his best friend, his mom had found out about the women, his sister had threatened him and Pan had kissed him. You kissed her back. Scowling, he tamped down the annoying little voice. It wasn't his fault! His body just happened to be very well trained in what to do when a woman was pressing against him and kissing him! He was going to plead temporary insanity on that score. Removing the towel from around his waist and drying the rest of himself off, he pulled on a pair of shorts and checked to make sure the door was locked and all the way shut. He wasn't up to any more unexpected visitors tonight. Then, he slid into bed and tried not to think about the feeling of Pan's lithe body under his hands.