Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Failure and Its Consequences ❯ Chapter 1

 

 

Dedication: To Bdegrees, whose Trunks must be the one having these pervy sub dreams about his straight Goten…

 

Disclaimer: Do not own DBZ, any characters therein, or a paddle (okay, just joshing `bout that last one…)

 

Warnings: Yaoi. NC-17. Disturbing, farfetched Saiyan ritual. Switching. *looks innocent*

 

 

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“C'mon, Trunks.”

 

“Shut up, Goten. Just. . . go away.”

 

Goten huffed at that. Annoyed. He was getting annoyed. It usually took so much to get under his skin, and of course his pansy-assed best friend had often been the cause, but this was getting ridiculous. Trunks was ridiculous, and since he couldn't handle anybody actually telling him that to his face, he was hiding under the sheet. As if that could help anyone over the age of five, Goten mused.

 

“Trunks, if you don't come out, I swear I'm gonna tell your dad what happened.”

 

“You wouldn't.”

 

“Try me.”

 

Trunks turned and surfaced, gripping the sheet tightly. Then stared. At the spiky black head hovering just above his own. At the onyx eyes so still and serious, deep emotion typically hidden by dancing lights on the surface. At the face of the best friend whom he'd failed to claim as his mate. Then his eyes dropped, and the blush spread quickly over his handsome face as he thought of what he'd lost, and how quickly he'd lost it.

 

Lavender hair spilled over into his eyes as he turned his head away toward the mattress. But he wasn't about to look up again anyway, nor release his death-grip on the sheet that covered his nakedness so he could push his bangs back from his forehead.

 

“Know what? I've been waiting a long time for this.”

 

Trunks did look up at that, shaking his hair out of the way angrily. “For what, exactly? The chance to turn me down?”

 

“Honestly, Trunks, you can be so dense.”

 

Trunks just grimaced and tried to turn his back on Goten, but he felt the hand on his shoulder, pressing it back to the mattress. Goten's other hand came up to stroke his cheek, over one faint tear track. “I had to let you go first. You know that.”

 

Trunks nodded, eyes squeezed shut, a little growl of frustration. He knew the Saiyan way, had spent long, sweaty nights imagining the culmination of two decades spent with Goten like two fingers of the same hand. His best friend. His training partner. His chosen. Except that now…He growled again.

 

“So…” Goten ignored him, allowed his fingers to travel down, over chiselled jaw and creamy throat, to push gently at the taut sheet in straining fingers. “Are you going to hold it against me?” His fingers worked under the fabric, found a soft nipple, circled, then pinched lightly. He smiled at Trunks' gasp.

 

“Goten, you are not suggesting - ”

 

“That's the problem, Trunks. Your problem.” Goten smirked, pinched again. “Bonding isn't about suggestion. Saiyans do not suggest. Saiyans do not offer. Saiyans are not soft hearted.” He brought his tormenting fingers to Trunks' other nipple, provided the same treatment and was rewarded with the sound of a ragged intake of breath. “Saiyans are not half hearted.”

 

Trunks fixed his eyes on the ceiling as Goten licked his own fingers and repeated his ministrations. When Trunks closed his eyes and began to squirm, his best friend moved his head down to blow lightly where his fingers teased.

 

Then he replaced his fingers with his tongue.

 

Then he used his teeth, just to savor the sweet little noises that he was sure Trunks would make. He wasn't disappointed. Trunks had always given him so much, but now Goten was ready to take a little more.

 

He drew his mouth away from Trunks' chest, brought his lips impossibly close to his friend's, but hovered again, without touching. Breathing in his uneven breaths, watching his eyes open warily, Goten waited. Trunks didn't have to allow this, despite Goten's patently false claims to the contrary—did he want to? “Well, Trunks?”

 

“When my father finds out - ”

 

Goten dropped his own weight on Trunks, pushing the breath and the warning out of his chest. He covered Trunks' mouth with his own and attacked: sucking, scraping, biting. Trunks took him in, a keening noise building deep in his chest and rising slowly in his throat. Goten swallowed that down, along with Trunks' tongue, his air, any protest and all inhibition, pulling all of Trunks' will into him with that deep kiss, then pulling away and leaving behind a bundle of need that bordered on frantic.

 

“ - it will be too late.” Goten finished Trunks' long forgotten objection, then kissed him again because really, he was irresistible like that, with little writhing motions and his hips pressing up toward Goten. He was sure Trunks could not feel half as ready as he did at that moment, and doubly sure that Trunks had no idea how good they were both about to feel.

 

Trunks allowed Goten to draw the sheet further down to brush the smooth plane of his abdomen with feather kisses.

 

He worried his bottom lip with sharp teeth as silky, spiky black locks ghosted his hips, Goten moving farther down to brand one thigh with his kiss.

 

He moaned as a reddish brown mark sprang instantly into existence when Goten released his skin with a popping noise, then moved his mouth to Trunks' other thigh to leave the same trace.

 

He sucked in his own ragged breath as Goten breathed hotly back up and over his erection, a little “ah!” escaping when Goten's tongue touched the tip.

 

Then soft lips closed around the hard length of him, and Trunks could no longer breathe, and the buzzing noise growing in the center of his brain and spreading outward left him dumb, staring eyes as good as blind. As Goten licked and sucked, then pumped with his mouth, Trunks felt the heat building too fast in his middle because this was too much!

 

Then he cried out, suddenly cold and hot and aching, as Goten pulled away, stroked firm hands down his thighs and back up to his hips, then rolled him over. Trunks ground himself down into the mattress, whining in frustration as he heard Goten remove his clothes and, when he still felt nothing, wondering what the holdup could possibly be.

 

He listened anxiously to Goten rooting around on his desk, kicking his discarded clothing, going into the bathroom.

 

“Alright, Trunks, I give. Where'd you hide it?”

 

“What?!” This was a whine.

 

“The switch.”

 

Trunks raised up to look back over his shoulder. “You are not serious.”

 

“Well, you were the one who wanted to claim me. I thought you would be doing that according to custom.”

 

Trunks flashed a nervous grin. “I thought that my hand would be enough.”

 

“Yeah, right!” Goten stalked over to the bed. “Like you were gonna mark me with your hand! Don't make me laugh! Now where is it?” When Trunks didn't answer, Goten smirked. “Trunks, I haven't just been sitting around twiddling my thumbs, waiting for you to get yours out of your ass and make a move! Now, while a switch would be adequate and customary, I have more than a few ideas about other handy implements that will leave the appropriate marks. Like to hear one?”

 

Trunks didn't answer, so Goten walked over to the huge closet. “Well, a belt would leave much too wide a welt, I'm sure. But I'll bet that you've got some nice bootlaces in here. I can braid those, make some knots in there, too, maybe wet it and leave the ends frayed - ”

 

“Goten!”

 

“What?”

 

“Besides not twiddling your thumbs, what else have you been up to lately?”

 

Goten smirked at Trunks' frown. “Burning up the keyboard. Now we can apply some of that theoretical knowledge to our mutual benefit.”

 

Trunks sighed. “I don't know why you're so dead set on marks, anyway. If we were following Saiyan tradition to the letter, you wouldn't even be allowed to claim me.”

 

“All the more reason to have the marks. Or were you going to invite your dad in to take pictures?”

 

“I could just tell him.”

 

“I know what you would tell him, Trunks, and it would not be that I refused you.”

 

Trunks blushed, turning his face back down between his folded arms.

 

Goten sighed, came over behind Trunks and without preamble, yanked him halfway off the end of the bed. He knelt down between his knees, running his palms up Trunks' thighs to glide firmly over his ass cheeks. He moved his hands up to smooth over his back a bit, then back down over his hips, at last bringing them down the front of Trunks' thighs to grab hold of his knees and spread them wide.

 

Both hands now on Trunks' hips, Goten laid his cheek on the small of his back. “Is it so shameful, to be marked as mine for a little while?”

 

Trunks snorted over his shoulder. “You tell me. You didn't want it.”

 

“That's not it at all, Trunks, and you know it. Or at least, you should know it. I thought you knew it. Don't you know it by now?” Goten circled both arms around his best friend's waist, hugged him close and strong. “I had to refuse. It's just not that way with us. I'm not my dad, you're not yours.”

 

“Your refusal is still my failure, in his eyes.”

 

“And that counts for how much, really?”

 

In the long silence, Goten began to kiss lightly down Trunks' back until his lips reached the cleft in his ass, then he continued with his tongue. He moved slowly, massaging and spreading Trunks' cheeks as his tongue lapped down.

 

Trunks didn't flinch at the intimate attention, but relaxed his hips into the mattress, sighing into the covers. He grew hard again as Goten's tongue worked his entrance, circling lightly, slowly, then with more and more insistence. His hips moved of their own accord, back to meet Goten's tongue which came so close to entering him, but still only darted relentlessly along on the outside, until Trunks wanted to scream his frustration.

 

Goten kept up his teasing movements, holding Trunks open, keeping his hips still as they moved up and back off the bed. Eyes open, he caught a glimpse of movement as Trunks snaked his hand down underneath them, hoping to get some friction where he really needed it. Letting go of Trunks' hip, he reached down and grabbed Trunks' hand, lacing his fingers in his friend's and giving a squeeze. Then he pinned Trunks' wrist to his back, and thrust his tongue deep inside.

 

Trunks did cry out then, still frustrated and wanting so much more than Goten's tongue sliding wetly inside him. He thrashed a bit and whimpered some more, tugging at his hand, but Goten held it tighter and kept his tongue moving, mimicking the forceful thrusts that his hips would soon make, leaving Trunks to jerk and tremble beneath him. He kept on mercilessly, wanting Trunks full of want, on the edge and ready for the next part.

 

“Goten! Please!”

 

Goten lifted his head, couldn't resist sinking his teeth into one creamy white, perfect cheek, and Trunks yelped. Goten let go of his wrist, and Trunks pushed himself up on his arms and back forcefully into Goten. “C'mon, Goten!”

 

“Where's the switch?”

 

Growling deep in irritated frustration, Trunks reached under the mattress and pulled out the long, smooth branch that he'd prepared earlier. Handing it behind him, he reached under again to retrieve something else which he set on the nightstand.

 

“New lube?”

 

“Arnica.”

 

Goten grinned. “Well, at least I know you considered aftercare.” He ran his fingers over the switch, noting the unblemished perfection of the green-brown bark, the suppleness of its length as he flexed it in his hands. “Good job on the switch, Trunks.”

 

“Just get it over with already!” Trunks moved to lie face down the length of his bed, head again tucked down in his crossed arms.

 

“Now see, I don't think you've got the right attitude here, Trunks. This is supposed to be a happy occasion.” Still on his knees on the floor, Goten leaned up onto the bed to bring the switch down lightly across Trunks' ass, and Trunks jerked his head around with a hissing snarl. “You were happy a minute ago.”

 

“I wasn't happy, I was horny. But you are rapidly killing the mood with all this chatter, Goten!”

 

“Oops.” Moving to kneel on the bed at Trunks' side, Goten was now a little frustrated himself, wanting his partner to have desire clouding his mind for the ritual, at least when the first blow landed. He leaned to take the lube from the nightstand, squeezing out more than enough, just to be sure. He rubbed it around the fingers of his left hand, then deftly parted Trunks' ass cheeks to spread it generously over his entrance. He rubbed and massaged back and forth, then smirked as he plunged two fingers deep.

 

“Gods! Go-ten!”

 

“That's not what you want?”

 

“Gods, yes but - gods!” He winced and drew a taste of blood from his bottom lip as Goten's fingers brushed his sweet spot.

 

“Just trying to help, Trunks.” Not answering, Trunks could only moan into the mattress when Goten decided that too much could not be enough, and proceeded to stroke him fiercely inside, with absolutely no pity for the burning ache building in his groin. Drowning in his desperate need, Trunks was soon panting and bucking his hips up to meet every expert thrust. Until Goten just stopped, pulling away, and Trunks shrieked, screamed a long stream of curses into the covers clutched in his grip, writhing on the bed.

 

Picking up the switch, Goten took a deep breath, concentrating and ever mindful of the fact that Trunks was letting him do this, although he himself had categorically refused to even consider it. He could not allow himself the luxury of a mistake. “Trunks, I would claim you, ” he said quietly.

 

Not replying at first, still bringing his breathing under control, Trunks at last turned his head toward Goten's side of the bed. “Goten…you may claim me.”

 

Raising the switch high, Goten brought it whistling down to strike low on Trunks' ass. Trunks gasped in his breath, squeezing his eyes shut tight as a bright red welt appeared on his backside.

 

Goten stared in awe. “I saw you.”

 

Again Trunks hesitated before answering in a soft voice. “You saw me.”

 

Goten was careful, but far from gentle as he laid the switch just under the curve of Trunks' cheeks, the most tender spot where his thighs met his ass. Answering the blow with a half-stifled cry of pain, Trunks let out a shuddering breath.

 

Goten wanted to caress the crimson line of fire that swelled up before his eyes, it looked so very soft and perfect. “I subdued you.”

 

Trunks' broken voice was barely audible. “You subdued me.”

 

The next blow struck across his upper thighs, not far from the one before it, and Trunks' wail sounded long, though he managed to muffle it by keeping his mouth closed, again drawing blood on his lip.

 

Watching the mark appear so close to the last, Goten let out an anxious sigh. Too close! “You submitted yourself to me.”

 

“I submitted myself to you,” Trunks whispered in answer.

 

Laying the switch beside him on the bed, Goten reached for the lube and prepared himself quickly, ashamed a little at the thought but still looking forward to creating a bit of friction on Trunks' angry welts, just to hear him gasp and see him struggle.

 

He lifted Trunks' hips with both hands, setting him on his knees, and Trunks managed to push himself up onto his hands, wincing as he moved. Wanting to fall into his partner like the sex-starved, hormone-driven adolescent that he used to be, Goten forced himself to move slowly, rubbing against Trunks before deliberately, gently beginning to push himself in.

 

He had to hold Trunks back from him with both hands; after all the teasing he'd been subjected to, he was already more than close and trying to force Goten to take him all the way at once. He moved deeper by the smallest of increments, watching Trunks toss his lavender hair around in anxious frustration as he whimpered.

 

Suddenly Trunks pushed back hard to get more and fast, and Goten growled. Then he brought one hand up, brushing roughly over all three of Trunks' welts at once.

 

“Goten! Fuck!”

 

“Wait.”

 

So Trunks stopped pushing, although he kept up his little noises of want and the frantic head tossing as Goten continued to sink deeper.

 

After what seemed an eternity Goten was in, and still Trunks whined and shook around him. Goten stilled himself, breathed deeply. “Don't move, Trunks.”

 

“Are you FUCKING kidding me, don't move?!” Trunks leaned down on his forearms, dropped his head to his hands, tearing at his hair in frustration. “Go-ten, hurry up!”

 

“Oh and shut up, too—this is kind of important!” Goten let go of Trunks, half expecting him to start thrusting his hips back immediately to fuck himself. But Trunks was forcibly holding his own head down with his arms crossed over the back of his neck, the strain of immobility accentuating the muscles in his biceps and across his back.

 

Goten picked up the switch and took aim at Trunks' left shoulder.

“Trunks, I claim you as my own.”

 

“You claim me as your own—ahhh!” The switch bit savagely into his skin, almost breaking it, and he rose up again on all fours. His high-pitched cry went straight to fuel the fire in Goten's abdomen.

 

Goten growled again, letting the sound rumble out of his chest as the desire to pound Trunks into the mattress rapidly occupied every last cell in his body. “You are mine, Trunks!” For the last time, Goten raised the switch, bringing it enthusiastically down on Trunks' right shoulder.

 

“Ahhh! You are mine, Goten!”

 

Five strokes and the ritual concluded at last, Goten flung the switch forcefully into a corner of the room, then reached down to pull Trunks up flat against his chest, spreading his legs wide over Goten's lap.

 

He began to thrust up lazily, savoring each of Trunks' moans because he was sure they wouldn't last. He put his lips to the swollen red stripe on the shoulder in front of him and sucked, put his hand around Trunks' erection and stroked; Trunks' reaction to both actions was lost in his constant moaning. Goten thrust harder, deeper, and suddenly Trunks arched and cried out, then came spilling over his hand. He slumped back into Goten, head lolling on Goten's shoulder and still moaning softly as Goten began to pump furiously, then came inside him with a shout, lifting up on his knees. Spent, he let himself fall to the mattress, Trunks still wrapped in his arms.

 

They both lay still, breathing heavy. Goten slowly opened his eyes and leaned in to lay gentle kisses on Trunks' abused shoulders.

 

“Ouch.”

 

“Oh, c'mon.”

 

“Seriously. Brute.”

 

Goten reached a hand down to feel Trunks' ass, but he hissed and jerked away. “Do not even go there, Goten. Except with the arnica.”

 

“Well, you didn't seem to be feeling it a minute ago.”

 

“I wasn't. Guess you'll have to fuck me 24/7 until I heal up.”

 

“Then we can do it again.”

 

Trunks snorted.

 

“We probably should, though. You screwed it up, you know.”

 

Eyes narrowed, Trunks looked over his shoulder to see Goten's grin. “Screwed what up?”

 

“The ritual. At the end, you were supposed to answer, `I am yours,' not `you are mine'.”

 

“Fuck.” Trunks frowned. “I'm not doing it again, Goten. Just so you know!”

 

Goten smiled, leaned down to kiss his chosen. “No, I like it better this way.”

 

 

 

~~~~ F I N ~~~~