Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Ménage ❯ All Apologies ( Chapter 8 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
A/N: I'm truly grateful to have a tiny handful of loyal fans who give me great, well-rounded reviews, rather than 150 "update soon's" from total strangers who don't know a lick about decent writing. *bows* Thank you very much, friends!
A spherical jet-black ball of iron shot past Goten, who, like the ball was floating in midair, narrowly missing his right shoulder by millimeters. The ball seemed to realize that it missed its target and sharply turned around, flying directly at its target.
Goten held a stout wooden bat firmly in his hand and positioned himself in the direct line of sight of the flying ball. A short distance behind him, also in midair, a bark-like, derisive laugh was heard.
"You ain't gonna hit that bludger!" Came the owner of the laugh. Raditz's proud smirk then fell to a frown as he watched his nephew take a well-aimed whack at the bludger that he was so sure couldn't be hit.
He furrowed his brow and a look of pure determination took over his features as he locked his eyes on the bludger flying toward him with incredible velocity. He dropped the Beater's bat he held and held his hands out, splay-fingered, readying himself for the initial blow the brutal object was going to hit him with.
"Holy shit!" Goten laughed as he watched his uncle catch the bludger in his bare hands, knocking his large form backward in the air a few meters, "You gonna be alright? You're supposed to hit it with the Beater's bat, not use your hands."
Raditz scoffed and touched back down on the grassy lawns, tucking the desperately struggling ball under his right arm. "Whatever," He said rolling his eyes, "This is child's-play."
Goten landed on the ground, and watched as Raditz struggled with putting the bludger back in leather case while making it seem like he was not having a hard time. He noticed after the forest incident that Raditz had been hanging out with him and his father more frequently when he wasn't at work. It wasn't that he minded, because he enjoyed goofing off with his uncle and teaching him about the wizarding community that the man knew next to nothing about.
Like today, for instance, he had finally found a reason to break out his at-home Quidditch set that he got one year for Christmas. He didn't use brooms to stay aloft, however, being that he preferred the freedom of flying without one.
To him, Raditz seemed to enjoy being out in the peaceful mountains; he even stopped sharing dirty looks with Chi-Chi. Still, he suspected that his uncle had another reason for avoiding the castle aside from training with Goku and hanging out with him.
He strongly suspected that Raditz's stand-offish behavior was tied with the reason himself and Trunks did nothing but fight. Something happened over a week-and-a-half ago that caused a sudden change in Trunks' mood. He became very particularly cold, which made things even more awkward for Goten, who was already doubting his role in their strained relationship.
Trunks had already given up on translating the journal, which Goten refused to read until it was finished. He had also stopped being so amorous and needy, thus making it almost a whole week since they've seen each other. Personally, Goten was happy for the break, it gave him time to think about their relationship.
"What do you want to do now?" Raditz asked, slightly exasperated, yet pleased that he managed to fit the Bludger back into its niche in the large box.
The boy shrugged, "I was gonna go to the castle later on, but I might just go now before Mom and Dad get back."
"Oh," The older man said, "Are you going to see Trunks?"
Goten's expression hardened slightly, "Actually I was gonna see Vegeta. I ain't made no plans to see Trunks since our last fight." He folded his arms across his chest and stared at the grass below.
Raditz snorted, "Yeah he's been tailing after Mel-n-not that I think there's somethin' goin' on between them or nothin'." He quickly lied, glancing at his scowling nephew.
"I know they've been hanging out a lot, Uncle, you don't have to spare my feelings," Goten sighed heavily and stared upward at the sky, "Son of a bitch, Mom and Dad are back. Mom'll never give me permission to see Vegeta."
And sure enough, a compact red hover-car was drawing nearer to the lawns. Goten mentally cursed himself for not leaving sooner. Still, what was the worst that would happen if he asked? His mother tell him 'no'?
"Why are you even seeing Vegeta?" Raditz asked, "Are you trying to get back at Trunks 'cause you think something is goin' on behind your back?" He grinned; oh yeah, he definitely hit a nerve.
Goten's heart jumped and glared at his smarmy uncle, "What the fuck does that mean?" He asked defensively, "I'd rather be chained to a cinder-block and tossed into the Arctic Ocean, or be thrown in a pit of starving spiders than do something like that!"
"Touchy, touchy!" The older Saiyan said, holding his hands up, "Didn't think you'd get so worked up over a damn joke."
"Shut up," The teen said, watching the red vehicle slowly land on the lawns.
Chi-Chi, who was driving, stepped out of the automobile first. Goku followed suit. Neither adult looked happy, and it seemed as if they attempted to go out to eat together from the left-over's bags in their hands. Chances were, the dinner didn't last that long.
"Hey, Goten," Chi-Chi said to her son in a bit of a tired tone, "I thought you had last-minute homework to do."
Goten looked at his uncle quickly then back at his mother, "I finished it already," He said, "I can show you if you-"
"No, no," The black-haired woman sighed, heading toward the house, "I believe you." She then turned, saying nothing to Raditz, and walked inside.
"What did you do?" Raditz asked his brother, who was meekly following in his wife's wake.
Goku sighed, "Well first I shook the doctor's hand too hard and his toupee thingy fell off. Chi-Chi got real mad."
"I don't doubt it," Goten said flatly, completely in disbelief at the boundlessness of his father's embarrassing behavior.
"And then when we out to eat at The Back Yard, and all I did was comment on Chi-Chi lookin' like she maybe gained a little weight, and she went ballistic. She went and scared all the customers out with her hollerin'," The simple-minded Saiyan shook his head, "Completely unnecessary," Then his expression brightened, "But at least we got our food for free just to get outta the restaurant."
"This is why I'm proud to be your son, Dad," Goten said over Raditz's giggles.
Goku didn't know whether to smile and say "thanks", or to keep quiet. His son had been rather cold to him lately, and he couldn't understand why. He had hoped he would be completely over the closet incident, but apparently he wasn't.
"Goku!" Came Chi-Chi's voice from the house, "Come help me get this stuff in the fridge! And I'll have you know," She continued as Goku trudged toward the house in defeat, "I had every right to be pissed at you, because you kept talking with your mouth full! You sprayed the waiter full-on in the face with chewed food, for crying out-" The door shut behind the couple, shutting out the rest of Chi-Chi's shrilly-spoken sentence.
"Well, I ain't stayin' for this shit," Raditz said, "I'm going back to the fucking castle."
"Let me go with you," Goten said, "I don't wanna hear the argument they're bound to have." He looked into the windows of the house and saw no one. Thinking that the coast was clear, he rose into the air after his uncle.
"Goten!" Came the sharp snap of his mother's voice just as he had started picking up speed, "What exactly are you doing?"
An unfamiliar wave of pure anger coursed through him. Whenever his mother was around, he was always under her constant watch. He couldn't even go for a walk through the woods without being hounded about what he was doing, especially with Raditz hanging around more.
The teen landed back on the ground roughly and stormed toward his unyielding mother. "What?" He asked, folding his arms across his chest and setting his jaw.
"What are you doing?" Chi-Chi asked again, ignoring the nasty tone of her son's voice.
"I was flying, wasn't I?" Goten ground out impatiently. He glanced upward toward the sky; Raditz had left him.
"I don't think I like your tone, young man. Now either tell me what you were doing, or you can say goodbye to your little card collection."
That struck a nerve. "Oh, sorry Mom, I forgot to tell you that I was running off to smoke a fat-ass blunt to the head, maybe pop some pills, and get completely wasted. If I'm lucky, I might even wake up naked next to a girl I don't know."
Chi-Chi's jaw dropped; never before had her son ever spoken so disrespectfully to her. Without a second thought, her hand reared back and she smacked the boy's face as hard as she could. She glared daggers as Goten stared back, stunned, rubbing the side of his face where he had been struck.
She was beside herself with anger, "Get inside now," She said, her tone at its most deadly.
"No," Goten replied, "I've been cooped up in this house all summer all because of something completely stupid and done with! I'm going to the castle, Mom. I'm sick of not being able to do anything."
A pang of guilt shot through Chi-Chi's heart. Had she really become the nagging bitch that everyone teases about behind her back? Had she become so wrapped up in keeping her family tightly knitted together that she had forgotten her son's wants and needs?
"Go ahead," She sighed in defeat; she had plenty enough to deal with from Goku, she really didn't want to fight anymore.
Without another word, Goten took to the skies after his uncle. He seethed about the sheer nerve of people as he sped up to catch the speck-like figure of Raditz far ahead of him. Even the older Saiyan had a part in rubbing him the wrong way with his accusation of Goten using Vegeta as rebound.
Sure, he was hanging around the prince a little more than deemed safe for the average person, but that didn't mean anything. Then, he'd have to think about what the outsider sees: he and Trunks fight, he starts tailing down Vegeta like a lost puppy who had just been given food.
Oh yeah, it was quite clear to him why Raditz would joke around like that. The more the teen thought about it, he had to admit, Vegeta wasn't quite as horrible once he got to know him. Though he was never fully docile, he deduced that the prince's attitude was mostly for show.
-0-
Soon, after catching up with Raditz, the pair touched down outside of the castle's entrance. Goten sighed loudly, which didn't go unnoticed by the older man.
"You gonna be okay, kid?" He asked, peering down at his long-faced nephew.
Goten shrugged, "I was thinking of patching shit up with Trunks before I seen Vegeta, but I don't know," He sighed again and looked upward in the direction of Trunks' window, "I really don't feel like being around him, now that I think about it."
Raditz rolled his eyes, "Suit yourself," He said, walking up the steps to the wooden doors, "I'll be upstairs boozin' up before I leave for three days." He then continued to grumble moodily under his breath as he entered the foyer.
Goten was soon to follow. He figured he would attempt to figure out what was wrong with Trunks and why he chose to be such an ass recently. Besides, what was the worst that would happen? Trunks tell him to get the fuck out of his room (or whatever room he was currently haunting).
He didn't have to look far. He sought out Trunks' ki figured out that he was in one of the lounge rooms on the first floor. Just as he rounded the corner to walk down the corridor leading to the lounge, he saw Seventeen leaning against the threshold, talking.
"-Gotta get ready to leave in a few hours," The dark-haired man said to an unseen Trunks, "And if you aren't too plastered by the time I get back, we might just finish what we started." He smiled with mock-innocence and took a step back from the threshold, waving slightly.
Fucking bitch. Was the only thing that Goten could think about as his expression turned to a frown and he marched down the hall. He pretended not to notice the older man eyeing him up and down when they passed, but it only made his temper rise more. The therapist was right, he really did have a lot of pent-up anger that needed to be handled.
He leaned up against the threshold, much like Seventeen did, but on the opposite side. He idly watched his flaky boyfriend toss back a shot of liquor, before making his presence known. He rapped his knuckles smartly on the wood of the door frame.
"Knock, knock, Trunks..." He said in a dead, flat tone. He kept his expression stony as he watched Trunks jump from fear and stare at him like a deer caught in headlights.
"Yeah," Goten continued, keeping the same tone. He pushed himself up off of the wall and started slowly toward the older teen, "Didn't expect me to show up here, did ya?"
Trunks remained silent and flopped down on the white couch that was situated in front of the table that held his drink. He propped his head in his hand and stared blankly at the tall, frosted-glass bottle. He didn't bother to respond to Goten's question.
"Ain't got nothin' to say, huh, Trunks?" The younger teen continued, advancing slowly still, "I betcha you're fucking drunk. You're always fucking drunk, ain't you?" In a burst of rage, he threw an empty shot glass against a painting of a mountain range, where it shattered into a thousand tiny pieces.
"I just wanna know," He continued shakily, sitting before Trunks and putting his hands on either side of the older male's face, so that there was no way that he didn't have his undivided attention, "What the fuck is wrong with you? Why the fuck do you keep doing fucked up shit!"
Trunks' drunken gaze remained locked on angry, dark eyes. He stared for a moment, cocking his jaw as if debating what to say. Finally he blew out an alcohol-scented breath and said: "I'm cheating on you with him." His mouth upturned at the corner, if only slightly.
Goten dropped his hands but didn't lose his seating position. Strangely, he didn't feel quite as angry as he thought he would. Still, he had to know, "Why am I not surprised?" He said, "Since when?"
"'Bout two weeks ago. He took me out, we got fucked up on shit-knows-what, and we've been fucking ever since." Trunks' face remained passive, as if he didn't care one bit about the news he was divulging to his supposed beloved boyfriend.
He took Goten's silence as a cue to continue, "We got caught, you know? Yeah, some nobody got pissed that Mom took their client, or whatever, and took blackmailing photos of us. Boy, Mom and Dad were pissed as hell." A very Vegeta-like grin spread across his face and he sat back to enjoy a moment of laughter, "But you know what?" He asked, "I got out of it real quick. See, Mom and Dad were gonna kick Seventeen out, and all that shit. But I threatened to tell everyone about both of their affairs. Yeah," He laughed, "I went there."
"He's got you wrapped around his little finger, don't he?" The younger teen said, shaking his head and standing up, "I can't believe this; I feel like I don't even fucking know you!" He said loudly, getting angry at Trunks' lack of remorse, "You're spoiled and you just don't know how to fucking take no for an answer! You know what?" He clenched his fist angrily and growled, trying to control his temper, "I only agreed to go out with you because you wouldn't just let it go. You had to keep pushin' and pushin' and makin' an ass of yourself until you got what the fuck you wanted!
"So I want you to tell me," He continued, feeling more confident now that he was on a roll, "Is this the reason why you've been actin' like a jerk to me all this time, and fightin' with me? 'Cause you seriously had me convinced that you were going through somethin' rough and wanted to be left alone. Is it really just 'cause you're fuckin' some other guy? What does he do, Trunks? Get you good and doped up, fucks you, then dips out on you? What the fuck are you gonna do once your little candy-ass fuck buddy is bored of you? I mean, we all know he's a fuckin' slut! "
"How 'bout you shut the fuck up about shit you don't know about!" Trunks finally said, jumping up. He swayed on the spot, but continued to glare at Goten all the same, "Get the fuck up out my face, about shit that don't concern you! I don't even wanna see your ass right now!"
"Is that right? Well, you ain't gonna be fuckin' it, neither!"
Trunks clenched his fists in anger. In a surge of impulse he grabbed the neck of his bottle of booze and chucked it at Goten's retreating figure. His drunken attempt at intimidation missed by a long-shot, causing the bottle to crash against the wall, spilling strong-smelling liquid all over the place. "GO FUCK YOURSELF!" He cried before the younger teen slammed the door shut behind him.
Goten didn't bother to look back as he stormed back down the hall. He was in such a rage, and not because Trunks cheated; he had his suspicions about Trunks and Seventeen ever since they both started hanging out. He was actually pissed at the fact that Trunks could be so blind and stupid. There was no way that he-Trunks-could not see that he was being duped. It was no secret that Seventeen was a master manipulator.
He had to admit that he felt awkward about the whole relationship with his "best friend". He was being completely honest when he told Trunks that he only agreed to date him because of being pressured into it. That's not to say that he didn't share love for his friend, because he did. They've been through so much together, and they've grown up together. So much was shared between the two of them, and it pained him to see Trunks being taken advantage of. There's no telling how much Seventeen had already taken.
He reached the stairs, debating on two things: hunting Seventeen down and beating the ever-loving shit out of him, or sticking to his original plan and finding Vegeta.
Back in the lounge, hot, angry tears spilled out of Trunks' eyes. He couldn't believe the nerve of Goten barging into his house and trying to tell him what to do. What was worse was Goten's admittance to never having feelings for him in the first place; that hurt.
He stood there, seething, staring blurrily at the door with his fists clenched at his side. The tears continued to streak down his face, but no sound came from him, save for an occasional sniffle. He had to wonder what in the world possessed him into thinking that he could continue such a lavish and shameless affair with Seventeen and still play boyfriend to Goten. Was he really so wrapped up in fulfilling his sexual desires that he didn't see the discomfort he was causing his so-called best friend?
Trunks swore under his breath, he really should have called off the relationship with Goten. If he'd have known that Goten felt uncertain, then he would have been able to give himself to his new crush with a perfectly-clear conscience. Then, like a sudden spark to the back of his mind, a thought struck him: what if Goten tried to do something horrible to Seventeen? Goten may be a docile person, but what would stop him from trying cause harm after everything he's just found out?
"No," He said aloud to himself, "Goten's not a vengeful person...is he?" He had to stop and question himself. Never had he seen Goten act out of turn like he just did; this begged the question if he really knew Goten at all. All his life, he was only concerned with numero uno; himself. Everything he ever did was for his benefit, even bribing Goten with expensive toys as children just to let him win a fight. It seemed, from what just happened, that he really didn't know his friend in-depth at all.
Because of this revelation, he became concerned. He had no clue what Goten was planning on doing, and seeking out the ki signature was hard, due to his level of intoxication. Still, he had a bit of a stubborn streak in him, and out-right refused to admit that he had to slow down.
The best thing that he decided he had to do was seek either Seventeen or Goten out himself.
-0-
"Stupid, stupid, stupid!" Goten said through gritted teeth as he followed his uncle's ki signature. A part of him wished that he could just turn back, but a darker part of him egged him on, reminding him that the little cunt, Seventeen, deserved an ass beating.
He figured that wherever Raditz was, chances were, Seventeen was nearby. He more or less wanted to know what was so freaking great about the scrawny little prick, besides being the only person who would put-out, that made Trunks so magnetized toward him. In Goten's opinion, the only thing Seventen had going for him was his looks.
The teen soon approached a downstairs bathroom in the middle of a corridor devoted to mostly unused bed rooms and junk rooms. He was quite sure it was near where Seventeen's bed room was. He stopped outside of a door, where he heard two voices: a gruff baritone laced with agitation, and a quieter, slightly-monotonous one. Both Raditz and Seventeen were together; this posed a slight problem since he wanted the bastard one-on-one.
"Will you quit pressin' so hard, it burns!" He heard Raditz complain; there was a slight whine to the man's voice that didn't suit him at al.
"Then leave your fucking hand still, please, so I can clean it properly," Seventeen replied, "Your dumb ass shouldn't have been squeezing the shot glass so tightly, and you wouldn't have sliced your hand open."
Aside from a few pained hisses coming from Raditz, and exasperated sighs from the other man, there was nothing more to the conversation. Just when Goten was tired of standing there, and was going to give his mission up as a bad job, he heard Raditz speak once more.
"You sure you don't wanna go with me?" He said, "It'll be loads of fun; I have a beach-front hotel and-ow, careful!"
"I told you I have to work, or I would go in a heartbeat."
Raditz scoffed, "You wouldn't miss an opportunity to spend three days partying on a private island. You're just staying 'cause of that brat."
"Of course not. If it weren't for Dez and Morgan getting charged with selling ruffies outside of the club, I'd be there," He paused for a second, and the sound of a tape-like substance being peeled was heard, "That's not to say I'm not going to take advantage of having a willing-and-able guy at my disposal." He finished his speech with a small laugh. "And could you open the door for me?"
Goten froze on the spot as he watch the door being pulled open by the long free arm of his uncle. He saw Seventeen, who was sitting cross-legged on the lidded toilet, wrapping a bandage around Raditz's right hand. Raditz had to sit on the floor, but because of his height and size, he was still easily accessible by his partner.
"You could've knocked; we would have let you in," Seventeen said obviously, not looking at Goten, "And if you were trying to sneak up on someone, you were doing a pretty shitty job," He finally looked up with a teasing glint in his eye, "I saw your shadow from below the door."
The young half-Saiyan seemed lost for words; this was not the entrance he wanted. Still, that insolent expression on that blue-eyed pretty-boy's face heated his blood, and the primal urge to get violent was almost impossible to ignore. His confidence was soon restored when Seventeen rolled his eyes and went back to his task, as if Goten were never there in the first place.
"I wanna know what you're getting at," Goten said boldly, folding his arms smartly across his chest.
Seventeen ripped the end of the bandage tape and fixed it to the other layers of bandage wrapped around Raditz's hand. "You're done; out." He demanded flatly.
"Out...what?" Raditz asked stupidly.
"Out, as in 'get the fuck out before I throw you out myself'."
Raditz glared at the smaller man, "Bitch," He spat, standing up.
"I know," Seventeen replied with a smile as the injured man stormed out of the room.
His attention was now back on Goten, whose confidence was waning once more. "I was wondering when you might confront me." He said, placing the roll of bandage tape back in its box.
Goten ignored the arrogant remark and chose to get to the point. "Why do I get the feeling that you really don't give a fuck that you're turning Trunks into a drug-abusing alcoholic?"
"I haven't made your boyfriend do shit. Everything we've done together has been completely consensual, and he knew the consequences of getting caught." Seventeen stood up and tilted his head slightly, staring at Goten curiously, "But don't worry, lover boy," He continued, stepping forward, his smile widening, "When I fucked him, I fucked him real good. Although, it's such a shame that you chose not to put out...he's a very good lay, and eager to please; you don't know what you're missing."
"You bastard!" Goten growled through gritted teeth, "How can you-? Why the fuck-?" The irate teen was so beside himself with anger that he stumbled stupidly on his words. He felt his ki rise with his temper, and his readiness to fight. Never before, since he was small, had he been so adamant about seeing someone beaten into a pulp.
"Use full sentences like a big boy," The older man teased, brushing past the teen as if he never registered the offensive body-language, or the unnatural body heat courtesy of the ki flowing off of the boy's body.
Goten stared incredulously at Seventeen's retreating figure. "Don't you walk the fuck away from me!" He called, causing the man to stop and turn purposely slow.
"Please tell me you're joking," Seventeen half-laughed, "You cannot possibly think that you're going to fight me and win."
"So what the fuck if I am? I'm not through with your ass, not after all the shit you're putting Trunks through! He's a fucking wreck and its all your fault!"
"Oh, so me showing your boyfriend, whom you've done nothing for, a great time is bad? If you truly cared so much, he wouldn't have come to me in the first place. Sounds like you're the one who needs an ass beating, not me. Its just you and me in this hall...so what are you waiting for?"
Goten had never found one singular person to be so infuriatingly annoying. Something finally snapped inside of him, like a dam breaking, and he felt a flood of rage flow within. He moved furiously toward the man, who made no move to defend himself.
"You evil...disgusting...prissy little BITCH!" Goten cried, sending a balled fist toward Seventeen's face.
Seventeen easily caught the fist scowled, which looked odd on him considering he normally showed no expression at all. "I'm not," He ground out, squeezing the fist in his hand, "PRISSY!"
Goten winced from the pain of his fist being crushed with shocking strength. "Well...you're still a fucking bitch!" He snarled, gripping Seventeen's shoulder with his free hand and using his own weight and strength to slam the small-framed body against the stone wall.
The older man gasped from having the wind knocked out of him, and a nasty crack split upward along the wall. He involuntarily released Goten's fist, giving the half-Saiyan the opportunity to pummel him in the gut repeatedly. His shoulder was released, only to have a muscular forearm shoved under his neck.
Blood was choked up and coughed sickly onto Goten's face. Suddenly the half-Saiyan felt Seventeen's hand shove against his chest followed by an excruciating pain. He cried aloud and flew into the opposite wall nearby a wooden door.
He was stunned for a moment, and his vision was blurred. His chest felt burnt and raw and he shakily picked himself up from the floor. He had no idea that Seventeen possessed any strength, aside from basic human strength, at all considering how small he was and he had no ki signature.
"So you wanna do it that way, huh?" He asked, forming an orb of ki in his right palm and launching it deftly at Seventeen, who dodged it, causing a half-moon table to explode into nothing more than dust.
Now that Goten knew he was fighting a more worthy opponent, he was ready, and didn't feel the need at all to hold back. He spun around to face Seventeen who had just tried to strike him from behind and caught him in a vice-like grip. The half-Saiyan threw his opponent bodily to the ground. He pounced on the sprawled-out figure, pinning him by the neck with one hand to the floor.
"Fuck you," he spat (actually spraying the older man in the face with saliva). He tightened his grip on the other's throat and formed a white-hot ball of ki in his free hand.
Seventeen's blood-stained face was illuminated by the sphere of burning energy. His eyes widened fearfully for just a second before he quickly raised his right knee, colliding it as hard as he could with is aggressor's groin.
The half-Saiyan looked as if he were going to puke, as saliva filled his mouth. Tears quickly formed in his widened eyes, and his rigid form slackened completely. Before he could collapse fully on top of Seventeen, He was flipped onto his back, staring blurrily up at the man he hated most.
"You're going to pay dearly for what you've just done to me," Seventeen threatened hoarsely, breathing heavily, "I've got the perfect punishment in mind..." He coughed weakly and withdrew a worn-handled pocket knife.
His eyes glinted menacingly, almost madly as he flipped the well-sharpened blade out and thrust it against Goten's exposed neck. He pushed the teen's head back by shoving his free hand under his chin and started to slowly slide the knife across bare flesh.
Warm, crimson blood flowed freely from the inch-long cut that was slowly lengthening. A strangled gasp escaped the teen's throat, "Fu-ckin' fag," He choked, refusing to show anymore weakness than he already shown, "Get your...hands off!" He grabbed the thin wrists of his attacker, trying to pry the hands off of him with much difficulty. Just when the knife was pulled from his neck, he felt the pressure of Seventeen's body on his lift.
The next thing he saw, when he sat up, holding the bleeding wound, was a completely uncoordinated Trunks trying to drag a resistant Seventeen into a nearby room. The pair stumbled and fell to the floor with a loud, painful thud, so that only two pairs of feet were shown outside of the door.
Apparently, in Goten's opinion, Trunks had no intention on checking up on him, so he made a run for it in case Seventeen got out of Trunks' clutches.
Meanwhile, in the room that Trunks dragged Seventeen to, which just so happened to be the small bathroom, both men quickly gathered themselves off of the marble floor.
Without caring that he was messing with fire, Trunks grabbed Seventeen's shirt front and pinned him against the wall. "What the fuck were you thinking?" He demanded, blowing his alcohol-laced breath into the other man's face, "You coulda killed him, you dumb shit!"
Seventeen glared angrily, all sophistication lost, "His bitch-ass fucking deserved it!" He snapped back, pushing the drunken teen off of him and started examining his reflection in the mirror nearby, He stretched his neck out to examine the red hand mark marring his otherwise flawless skin, "Fuck, that's gonna bruise..." he muttered, lightly touching the mark, "He better be fucking grateful that I'm on bartending duty tonight; this would be unacceptable if I were stripping." He ran water from the tap and began scrubbing the blood off of his face, and rinsing it out of his mouth.
"He won't fuck with you again," Trunks promised, snaking his arms around the older man's waist and pressing his lips against the mark, "And I didn't know you did other things besides strip."
Seventeen spat red-tinged water into the basin and spun to face Trunks, wrapping his arms around the teen's neck, "I can do any job out there; that's why I get paid so well," He said, smiling, "And do make sure your little boyfriend doesn't fuck with me; you don't want him to die, do you? 'Cause I'm not gonna hold back if there's a next time."
He pushed past the other, not waiting for the response, walking toward the exit, "Gotta finally get ready to leave now." He said, leaving the room.
Trunks followed after him, "Goten's not my boyfriend anymore," He called out, "And I was wondering if you would be..."
"I'll think about it," Seventeen responded, not looking back, and giving an airy wave.
Goten finally stopped his mad dash throughout the halls. He honestly felt a little ridiculous running so fast and so far, but the run was also quite relieving and refreshing. He had to appreciate the enormity of the castle, and all of its unused rooms. Despite his current mood, he made a mental note to scope out the place one day.
Yes, he was still pretty pissed. He never hated anyone so much. His pride was crushed, and he really wasn't much of a prideful person. Just the fact that Seventeen won only because he fought dirty set his teeth on edge and made his blood boil. He stopped himself before he made the decision to have another row with the guy.
Calm down, Goten, He mentally told himself, There's no sense in causing more drama. What's done is done, and there ain't nothing that can be done about it. Trunks made his choice, and I've made mine.
He exhaled in exasperation, feeling weary and strangely older, due to this moment of maturity. He leaned up against a huge wooden door that he had stopped in front of in order to take a breather. The door, however, swung open with the force of his weight, causing the teen to stumble backwards into the room it concealed.
"Jeez!" Goten complained, staring at the door as if it had said something offensive. He sighed again and chose to take a good look at his surroundings, being that he had never been in this particular part of the castle before.
He couldn't help but let his jaw drop slightly at the enormity of the room. It was obviously a room of great importance due to the elaborate decoration. However, there was also a look of severe neglect. Great, faded crimson tapestries covered portions of the massive stone walls from the high ceiling to the dusty floor; Situated beneath a wide tapestry decorated with the Saiyan crest was a stone dais. On top of the dais was the most ornately carved, high-backed throne he had ever seen. It looked as if there were battle scenes carved into the areas not covered by red velvet cushion.
Goten stepped toward the dais; his footsteps were muffled by the thick layer of dust coating the red carpet beneath him. He then examined the stone throne, running his fingers over the little carved warriors battling strange creatures, possibly from other worlds. His hands then smoothed over the worn, dusty velvet cushions, pressing here and there to test its softness.
Then, a most curious idea struck him. His dark brown eyes scanned the area for any intruders; the coast was clear. Without a second though he climbed onto the throne. It felt sort of awkward sitting imperially high above the floor, but he never felt cooler, or any closer to being like royalty. He placed his hands on the arms and looked around; he wondered if the previous owner of the castle actually sat in this chair, since obviously no one has used it in ages.
"Are we having fun?" Asked a voice that caused Goten's heart to leap into his throat. His eyes widened as the castle's owner swaggered into the room.
"Vegeta!" Goten squeaked, hopping off of the throne as if he were sitting on a small bed of hot coals, "I-I was just gonna go lookin' for you!" He tugged nervously at the bottom of his charcoal-gray shirt. Why did Vegeta have to be so damn quiet?
"What a coincidence," The prince said, stepping up the dais, "I was just looking for you."
Goten didn't know why he was feeling so intimidated by Vegeta's presence. The very demeanor of the man was condescending and intimidating on its own without hearing him actually speak. "What for?" He then asked, trying to keep his tone level.
"I felt couple of irregular ki coming from the lower east-wing, and I went to investigate the culprits. Of course, I wasted my time trying to ask my son, because he had taken to hiding in his room...so all that leaves is you, Goten," He said the teen's name with a slight tone of impudence, smiling when the faintest of blushes crossed the boy's face.
"So," He continued, climbing the final step so that he was face-to-face with the half-Saiyan, "Are you going to tell me why an antique piece of furniture has been reduced to rubble, and an ugly crack has run up my wall, or are we going to have to resort to other methods of interrogation?" A slightly mad glint shone in the prince's eye, similar to the one Seventeen had when he was trying to murder Goten. What in the world was with these people and their sick ways of behaving?
"I had a row with Seventeen," Goten sighed, deciding its best to be truthful to an accomplished Legilimens, "We shared some words, and I got pissed. I started the fight, but he pushed me to it." He pressed his lips together, looking away. He hated feeling like a tattle-tale.
"I don't blame you for getting upset," Vegeta replied truthfully, which genuinely shocked the younger male. It was so unlike Vegeta to be this candid with him, "The little bastard's been an issue for myself as well..." He let out a sigh, and Goten assumed it was best not to ask the prince to continue. He already knew Trunks' version of the story, anyhow, despite how fucked up it was.
He started to feel sorry for Vegeta. Trunks was a real ass toward him, especially now that he had been dogging after Seventeen. "I really wanted to hurt him," He said suddenly, almost automatically, "But I held back...and I got hit wit a couple of cheap-shots."
"I see," The prince said, noting the dried blood on Goten's neck and shirt, "Now you know to not hold back. I keep telling you virtuous idiots over the years to pretty much go for the kill, but no one listens." He smirked at the shamed look on the younger boy's face. He then took a seat on the throne, looking powerful yet aloof. The look suited him well, making Goten feel dumb for ever sitting there in the first place.
"So why, may I ask, have you the desire to seek me out?" The Saiyan stared down his nose at Goten, making the teen feel rather small and insignificant.
Goten bit his lip, feeling rather awkward. He hated asking for favors, but he did need something from the prince. "Its the journal. I was wondering if you could finish translating it for me, since Trunks has kinda given up on it." He smiled awkwardly, but Vegeta's face remained unreadable.
He actually started to notice just how gracefully Vegeta had aged. His face had thinned out some, allowing his high cheekbones to add more definition to his face. Faint dark circles shadowed his eyes, and there was also a small hint of facial hair. The slightly older look suited the prince well.
"It seems that you have other things on your mind," Vegeta said suddenly, startling Goten out of his distracted trance.
"I'm sorry," The teen apologized, "I-I just...what're you doing?" He asked, feeling the prince's hand brush the fringe of his shaggy bangs out of his eyes. He felt the strangest sensation, causing a heavy blush to blotch his face. Something was definitely up with Vegeta.
"You really are much like your father, you know that?" The older Saiyan said quietly, letting his hand skim over the teen's neck and to his shoulder.
"I-I've been told that..." Goten whispered, turning his eyes downward. He felt the slight tug of Vegeta's hand, which was drawing him closer to where the prince sat.
They were close now, noses almost touching. "Such a shame he doesn't see that..." The prince continued softly. He never imagined himself in this type of situation. The last time he had ever been with anyone was the night he spent with his wife. Still, he was correct in saying how similar Goten was to Goku. Perhaps he didn't want to admit that he had grown so accustomed to a familiar person's company; that he didn't want to be without it. Had he really gotten that insecure?
The strangest thing was, Goten wasn't resisting.
Goten stayed rooted on the spot. He wanted to tear away, to just leave the castle and escape all the craziness he had been subjected to that day, but he just couldn't. Some other, irrational, and slightly inquiring part of him made him stay. The feeling of Vegeta's hot breath fanning over his face; the closeness...it was so wrong.
Barely a second later, both saiyans were locked in a furious kiss. As a seventeen-year-old, Goten's sexual appetite could not be satisfied. He couldn't look at a person without imagining them naked, and here he was, bold as brass, locking lips with one of the most dangerous man to ever consider kissing.
Shirts were stripped off, and jeans were awkwardly stepped out of. Soon Goten was straddled across Vegeta's lap. The young half-Saiyan's hands shook with nervousness, for he never once went this far with Trunks. Vegeta would be the first man he would ever have sex with.
Vegeta smirked against the heated flesh at the small whimper the younger man gave, and felt the uncomfortably hard length press urgently against his. He felt trembling hands press against his chest, gently trailing over his muscles in a weak attempt at being sensual.
Just like Goku, He thought in his mind, letting his fingers trail lightly over the impressive hard-on. He felt the teen quiver slightly at the erotic feeling. He knew that a Saiyan's body could handle much abuse and agony, so he wasn't worried about physical harm. He was concerned about the moment.
"Wait-" Goten whimpered, feeling the prince's hands grip under his thighs to raise him up. It had just hit him that they were about to have sex without any sort of lube; "Vegeta-what about-"
So lost in the moment, and his own fantasies, he ignored Goten's protests. He quickly positioned himself with one hand, while holding his grip on the leg. His eyes squeezed shut and gritted his teeth at the tight feeling of muscles surrounding his length. He drowned out Goten's pained cry with his mouth, for the sound echoed through the room.
With the aid of the older, far more experienced man, Goten began slowly rocking his hips. Pained groans escaped his lips as the discomfort slowly ebbed away; replaced by the erotic feeling of a hand wrapping itself around his uncomfortably hard member. The painful jab of guilt hit him through his chest at the though of enjoying such an intimate moment with his ex's father, but he couldn't possibly ask the prince to stop, not as far as they've gone.
Vegeta involuntarily slid a little further down the throne, tilting his head back at the amazing feelings of fucking for the first time in a while. He looked at the male on top of him; both of those strong arms were grasping either side of the back-rest of the throne as if it were his lifeline; his face was slightly above his, and bowed so that their foreheads were almost touching; his lips, the same shape as Goku's, were parted to allow breathy moans to escape.
The prince found the view quite erotic, and his eyes trained on that mouth, and all the things its look-alike has done to him flooded into his mind. His hand around the heavily-beading shaft it held began to pump faster while squeezing harder. He broke his gaze from the mouth and pressed his own against it, slipping his tongue inside.
The way Vegeta touched the young half-Saiyan with his hands and mouth; the way he wordlessly demonstrated how to fuck a man in such an awkward and space-limited position; and the way he could make him last confused the teen. He wasn't sexually attracted to Trunks, and he was quite sure that he preferred girls, so why was he tangled up with Vegeta on his dusty throne? He decided that now was definitely not the time to answer.
He heard Vegeta give a muffled moan against his mouth, and the man's body shuddered from what he hoped was an amazing climax. Just knowing that he willingly pleasured a person who couldn't be satisfied about anything at all was enough to give him that push to send him over the edge.
Breaking from the kiss, and giving a loud groan that echoed throughout the vast chamber, hot fluid shot from his tip and over the hand that held him. Both men, stayed in that awkward and painful (especially for Goten's knees) position for a few moments, relishing in the aftermath of their spontaneous tryst.
Minutes later, both males awkwardly gathered their things from the floor. Goten kept stealing glances at Vegeta, hoping for some sort of conversation, as he shook his shirt free of ancient dust. He winced at the feeling of his body jerking with the motion of his arms shaking his shirt. His first time wasn't completely unpleasant, but he definitely couldn't see the absolute thrill in it. Being screwed in a place that wasn't anatomically designed to have things inserted in hurt like hell!
He glanced at the prince once more, but still no response. Vegeta seemed to pointedly ignore his silent plea for attention.
"Please say something," The teen pleaded in exasperation, clutching his shirt in one hand, while trying to hold his baggy jeans up with the other (he hadn't put his belt on yet). He stopped and stared at Vegeta, waiting for some sort of response.
"You want me to translate that journal, right?" The prince said rather coldly, slipping his own shirt back on. He cut his black eyes at the younger male. When the teen nodded he continued, "I'll do it for you if I have your word that you will never bring this up. Do not even come to me about anything but your ruddy journal." His eyes closed and he gave a frustrated sigh, "This was obviously a mistake."
"Mistake?" Goten said rather loudly, "What the hell do you mean by that? I don't understand..."
Vegeta's eyes flashed dangerously, and Goten backed down. "If you take a moment to think-you know what? Just go." He pointed toward the door, lips pressed into a thin line from anger.
The teen was confused, and desperately wanted to know what was so suddenly wrong. Did he-Vegeta-think he was a terrible lay? In the half-Saiyan's opinion, it wasn't bad, despite how sudden their coupling was. He felt bad, and wanted to reassure the prince.
"Please, Vegeta," He said softly, "It wasn't bad...don't be so upset."
Vegeta felt his blood start to boil with anger. What was it with Kakarrot and his brats and wanting to push topics that should otherwise be left alone? Why couldn't he just be left alone when he asks? This annoyed him to no end, and he fought the urge to lash out. Instead, he chose to give the teen a second warning.
"If you don't kindly get the fuck away from me, I'll make sure you do, even if it means you leaving with more than just a cut on your neck and a sore ass."
With an injured look, Goten left the room without another word, feeling that maybe he himself was at fault.
Vegeta watched the door shut behind the younger male, and a wave of anger crashed over him. In a blind rage, he blasted the throne with a powerful ki sphere. The action, however, did nothing to alleviate his stress, as a great plume of dust and bits of debris rose into the air, eventually reaching him. He dropped to the ground as he accidentally breathed in the putrid, tainted air, and coughed violently.
Eyes streaming from the harshness of the dusty air, and his throat searing from his coughing fit, he gathered himself up and got out of the hazardous environment as fast as he could. Once outside, he leaned against the stone wall, breathing deeply the fresh air. The throne room door had remained open, allowing dust to drift lazily outward with the flow of air. A chink of quickly fading, orange sunlight from a nearby window illuminated the cursed particles.
"Fuck," He rasped, spitting onto the ground. He pushed himself off of the wall and walked to the nearest bathroom. He turned the tap over the stone basin, gathered water from the icy jet and into his hands and brought the liquid to his lips.
With his throat soothed to a mere achy, dull burn, he felt his body lose its tension. Once more, he dropped to the floor, sliding on his back against the wall, so as to ease the force of his fall. It was then he got to assess the potentially incriminating situation that he had put himself and Goten in.
Though the laws of sixteen-year-olds and legal adults having sex was a gray area, with each location having a different opinion on whether it was illegal or not, this was still a horrible situation that the prince had put himself in. If this ever got out to anyone, he could lose his very livelihood as he knew it. Everything he had worked so hard to achieve would be for nothing.
Not only would he be thoroughly fucked, but so would Goten. It was horrible enough the boy had to go to therapy because of his parents, he didn't need another reason to see a shrink.
He couldn't believe that he had let himself go; that he let himself lose all sense of composure just for a few moments of missed bliss. He wasn't sure if he could face either Goten or Kakarrot after this. This very thought made him wonder what exactly was fucking wrong with him. Was he really this spiraled out of control with his own life that he had to perform in thoughtless and selfish acts with other people in order to feel secure with himself?
He sighed heavily and stared vacantly at the wall. The only thing he had keeping him from getting into serious trouble is the hope that Goten kept his trap shut, because he sure as hell wasn't going to speak.
-0-
Goten was in a right state. He knew that Trunks often complained of his father's moods flip-flopping, often joking if the man were bi-polar, but now that he had seen evidence of this accusation first-hand, he started to believe that maybe he did have a mood disorder of sorts.
He sighed heavily, running his hand absently over the walls as he walked aimlessly down the corridors with no particular destination in mind. Who was he to judge? He enjoyed the tryst as well, even after refusing Trunks left and right. Maybe there was something wrong with himself? Perhaps he saw something in Vegeta at that moment that sparked some untapped and hidden feelings of attraction?
Was it because, despite the prince's general attitude toward his family, he was far more dependable than his own flaky, childish father? He felt a pang of guilt hit him for comparing his own father, whom he did love, to his father's counterpart. However, he had to admit that it was his father's irresponsible attitude that driven him to feel this particular way.
That had to be it. Goten was attracted to and admired Vegeta's maturity. This revelation, however, brought him back to the subject of Trunks. Trunks was smart and good-looking, no doubt, but he was also pushy and childish, as he made a point of saying earlier when he arrived at the castle. Trunks' constant immaturity and irrational outbursts made it hard for him to enjoy his best friend's company as a boyfriend. It made it even harder to become attracted to him physically.
He felt a second jab of guilt. He was just as bad, sticking with Trunks for so long when he didn't feel anything for him other than friendship. He really didn't want to give up his friendship that had lasted his entire life over something that wasn't meant to be. Suddenly, he got the idea that maybe he could talk things out with Trunks. It had been a bit since their fight; hopefully he had sobered up and calmed down a bit.
Making up his mind, he set off for Trunks' ki signature. He eventually found his quarry lounging in the most used sitting room, absently flipping through channels on the large television. He swallowed his pride and humbly walked into the room, making sure he appeared genuinely regretful.
"Hey, Trunks..." He said solemnly once he approached the small sofa the older teen was stretched across.
Trunks jumped, "What the hell! Don't scare me like that!" He fussed, craning his head to look at the intruder. "I really hope you've come to apologize for what you did," He said, frowning and sitting up straight.
Goten felt a slight twinge of annoyance at the remark, but decided to ignore it. It wasn't worth another fight. "I have," He said, "I shouldn't have attacked him like that, and I'm really sorry."
The older male nodded, "It's alright," He said. His eyes spotted the dried blood on the younger's neck, "That's what he did to you?"
A hand covered his wound, "Y-yeah," Goten said, "I ain't cleaned it yet...got distracted. But that's not important." He breathed in then exhaled a bit loudly, "Can I sit down?"
Trunks, considerably less drunk, realized that Goten wasn't here just to apologize for the fight. He had never seen his best friend so serious and troubled. He nodded and gestured for him to sit.
"Trunks...I played you," Goten began, tugging the bottom of his shirt, "I made you think that I had feelings for you, when I didn't. I never did. You're my best friend, and I wanted to make you happy, so I went along with it. I hoped that maybe I might be attracted to you, but it never happened. I kept lying to you and saying that I loved you...when I didn't." He stopped and looked over at Trunks, who stared at a spot on the floor between his knees, but listened all the same. Goten couldn't read his expression, and took his silence as cue to continue.
"I knew it was wrong. I'm really, really sorry I did that to you. It was just so awkward 'cause we grew up together. I'm not the one for you, and that I am very sure of. I just hope that we can still be friends. I really care for you, just not in that way." He glanced again, still no reaction, "I shouldn't have taken it as far as I did."
Trunks finally looked at Goten. He looked as if he were trying to remain composed, though his eyes did look a bit glassy. "You aren't the only one who's sorry," He said, not looking away, "I was wrong to put you in a situation that made you uncomfortable. I should've known from the get-go that you wouldn't want to, and I shouldn't have gotten so dramatic. I'm fucked in the head, Goten, and I don't need a shrink or anyone to tell me that...no offence. I guess I just latched on to the only person who seemed to give a god damn, and I took it too far. You aren't bad for me, Goten," He sniffed and tried to blink back stubborn tears, "I'm bad for you." He sniffed again and wiped away a stray tear with the tips of his fingers.
"I guess that's why I'm so attracted to Seventeen," He continued, noticing the dark look that had fallen over Goten's face at the mention of the name, "Because he's just as fucked in the head as I am. We're bad for each other...and I like it. I'm sorry that I cheated on you with him."
"Its fine," The younger half-Saiyan said quietly, "As long as we are cool with each other, and can still be friends."
"Yeah," Trunks responded thickly, "I still wanna be friends with you."
Goten genuinely smiled for the first time in what he thought was a long time. He knew that it would take a while for him and Trunks to work things out; there are some things that magic and power cannot fix. He knew that a simple apology wasn't enough to get them back to where they used to be; and now that Trunks is with Seventeen, he'd have to learn to accept that, as much as he didn't want to. Still, he was glad that they agreed to be friends.
He leaned over and embraced his friend, who gladly returned the gesture. There was no groping, or filthy words. It was purely platonic.
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A spherical jet-black ball of iron shot past Goten, who, like the ball was floating in midair, narrowly missing his right shoulder by millimeters. The ball seemed to realize that it missed its target and sharply turned around, flying directly at its target.
Goten held a stout wooden bat firmly in his hand and positioned himself in the direct line of sight of the flying ball. A short distance behind him, also in midair, a bark-like, derisive laugh was heard.
"You ain't gonna hit that bludger!" Came the owner of the laugh. Raditz's proud smirk then fell to a frown as he watched his nephew take a well-aimed whack at the bludger that he was so sure couldn't be hit.
He furrowed his brow and a look of pure determination took over his features as he locked his eyes on the bludger flying toward him with incredible velocity. He dropped the Beater's bat he held and held his hands out, splay-fingered, readying himself for the initial blow the brutal object was going to hit him with.
"Holy shit!" Goten laughed as he watched his uncle catch the bludger in his bare hands, knocking his large form backward in the air a few meters, "You gonna be alright? You're supposed to hit it with the Beater's bat, not use your hands."
Raditz scoffed and touched back down on the grassy lawns, tucking the desperately struggling ball under his right arm. "Whatever," He said rolling his eyes, "This is child's-play."
Goten landed on the ground, and watched as Raditz struggled with putting the bludger back in leather case while making it seem like he was not having a hard time. He noticed after the forest incident that Raditz had been hanging out with him and his father more frequently when he wasn't at work. It wasn't that he minded, because he enjoyed goofing off with his uncle and teaching him about the wizarding community that the man knew next to nothing about.
Like today, for instance, he had finally found a reason to break out his at-home Quidditch set that he got one year for Christmas. He didn't use brooms to stay aloft, however, being that he preferred the freedom of flying without one.
To him, Raditz seemed to enjoy being out in the peaceful mountains; he even stopped sharing dirty looks with Chi-Chi. Still, he suspected that his uncle had another reason for avoiding the castle aside from training with Goku and hanging out with him.
He strongly suspected that Raditz's stand-offish behavior was tied with the reason himself and Trunks did nothing but fight. Something happened over a week-and-a-half ago that caused a sudden change in Trunks' mood. He became very particularly cold, which made things even more awkward for Goten, who was already doubting his role in their strained relationship.
Trunks had already given up on translating the journal, which Goten refused to read until it was finished. He had also stopped being so amorous and needy, thus making it almost a whole week since they've seen each other. Personally, Goten was happy for the break, it gave him time to think about their relationship.
"What do you want to do now?" Raditz asked, slightly exasperated, yet pleased that he managed to fit the Bludger back into its niche in the large box.
The boy shrugged, "I was gonna go to the castle later on, but I might just go now before Mom and Dad get back."
"Oh," The older man said, "Are you going to see Trunks?"
Goten's expression hardened slightly, "Actually I was gonna see Vegeta. I ain't made no plans to see Trunks since our last fight." He folded his arms across his chest and stared at the grass below.
Raditz snorted, "Yeah he's been tailing after Mel-n-not that I think there's somethin' goin' on between them or nothin'." He quickly lied, glancing at his scowling nephew.
"I know they've been hanging out a lot, Uncle, you don't have to spare my feelings," Goten sighed heavily and stared upward at the sky, "Son of a bitch, Mom and Dad are back. Mom'll never give me permission to see Vegeta."
And sure enough, a compact red hover-car was drawing nearer to the lawns. Goten mentally cursed himself for not leaving sooner. Still, what was the worst that would happen if he asked? His mother tell him 'no'?
"Why are you even seeing Vegeta?" Raditz asked, "Are you trying to get back at Trunks 'cause you think something is goin' on behind your back?" He grinned; oh yeah, he definitely hit a nerve.
Goten's heart jumped and glared at his smarmy uncle, "What the fuck does that mean?" He asked defensively, "I'd rather be chained to a cinder-block and tossed into the Arctic Ocean, or be thrown in a pit of starving spiders than do something like that!"
"Touchy, touchy!" The older Saiyan said, holding his hands up, "Didn't think you'd get so worked up over a damn joke."
"Shut up," The teen said, watching the red vehicle slowly land on the lawns.
Chi-Chi, who was driving, stepped out of the automobile first. Goku followed suit. Neither adult looked happy, and it seemed as if they attempted to go out to eat together from the left-over's bags in their hands. Chances were, the dinner didn't last that long.
"Hey, Goten," Chi-Chi said to her son in a bit of a tired tone, "I thought you had last-minute homework to do."
Goten looked at his uncle quickly then back at his mother, "I finished it already," He said, "I can show you if you-"
"No, no," The black-haired woman sighed, heading toward the house, "I believe you." She then turned, saying nothing to Raditz, and walked inside.
"What did you do?" Raditz asked his brother, who was meekly following in his wife's wake.
Goku sighed, "Well first I shook the doctor's hand too hard and his toupee thingy fell off. Chi-Chi got real mad."
"I don't doubt it," Goten said flatly, completely in disbelief at the boundlessness of his father's embarrassing behavior.
"And then when we out to eat at The Back Yard, and all I did was comment on Chi-Chi lookin' like she maybe gained a little weight, and she went ballistic. She went and scared all the customers out with her hollerin'," The simple-minded Saiyan shook his head, "Completely unnecessary," Then his expression brightened, "But at least we got our food for free just to get outta the restaurant."
"This is why I'm proud to be your son, Dad," Goten said over Raditz's giggles.
Goku didn't know whether to smile and say "thanks", or to keep quiet. His son had been rather cold to him lately, and he couldn't understand why. He had hoped he would be completely over the closet incident, but apparently he wasn't.
"Goku!" Came Chi-Chi's voice from the house, "Come help me get this stuff in the fridge! And I'll have you know," She continued as Goku trudged toward the house in defeat, "I had every right to be pissed at you, because you kept talking with your mouth full! You sprayed the waiter full-on in the face with chewed food, for crying out-" The door shut behind the couple, shutting out the rest of Chi-Chi's shrilly-spoken sentence.
"Well, I ain't stayin' for this shit," Raditz said, "I'm going back to the fucking castle."
"Let me go with you," Goten said, "I don't wanna hear the argument they're bound to have." He looked into the windows of the house and saw no one. Thinking that the coast was clear, he rose into the air after his uncle.
"Goten!" Came the sharp snap of his mother's voice just as he had started picking up speed, "What exactly are you doing?"
An unfamiliar wave of pure anger coursed through him. Whenever his mother was around, he was always under her constant watch. He couldn't even go for a walk through the woods without being hounded about what he was doing, especially with Raditz hanging around more.
The teen landed back on the ground roughly and stormed toward his unyielding mother. "What?" He asked, folding his arms across his chest and setting his jaw.
"What are you doing?" Chi-Chi asked again, ignoring the nasty tone of her son's voice.
"I was flying, wasn't I?" Goten ground out impatiently. He glanced upward toward the sky; Raditz had left him.
"I don't think I like your tone, young man. Now either tell me what you were doing, or you can say goodbye to your little card collection."
That struck a nerve. "Oh, sorry Mom, I forgot to tell you that I was running off to smoke a fat-ass blunt to the head, maybe pop some pills, and get completely wasted. If I'm lucky, I might even wake up naked next to a girl I don't know."
Chi-Chi's jaw dropped; never before had her son ever spoken so disrespectfully to her. Without a second thought, her hand reared back and she smacked the boy's face as hard as she could. She glared daggers as Goten stared back, stunned, rubbing the side of his face where he had been struck.
She was beside herself with anger, "Get inside now," She said, her tone at its most deadly.
"No," Goten replied, "I've been cooped up in this house all summer all because of something completely stupid and done with! I'm going to the castle, Mom. I'm sick of not being able to do anything."
A pang of guilt shot through Chi-Chi's heart. Had she really become the nagging bitch that everyone teases about behind her back? Had she become so wrapped up in keeping her family tightly knitted together that she had forgotten her son's wants and needs?
"Go ahead," She sighed in defeat; she had plenty enough to deal with from Goku, she really didn't want to fight anymore.
Without another word, Goten took to the skies after his uncle. He seethed about the sheer nerve of people as he sped up to catch the speck-like figure of Raditz far ahead of him. Even the older Saiyan had a part in rubbing him the wrong way with his accusation of Goten using Vegeta as rebound.
Sure, he was hanging around the prince a little more than deemed safe for the average person, but that didn't mean anything. Then, he'd have to think about what the outsider sees: he and Trunks fight, he starts tailing down Vegeta like a lost puppy who had just been given food.
Oh yeah, it was quite clear to him why Raditz would joke around like that. The more the teen thought about it, he had to admit, Vegeta wasn't quite as horrible once he got to know him. Though he was never fully docile, he deduced that the prince's attitude was mostly for show.
-0-
Soon, after catching up with Raditz, the pair touched down outside of the castle's entrance. Goten sighed loudly, which didn't go unnoticed by the older man.
"You gonna be okay, kid?" He asked, peering down at his long-faced nephew.
Goten shrugged, "I was thinking of patching shit up with Trunks before I seen Vegeta, but I don't know," He sighed again and looked upward in the direction of Trunks' window, "I really don't feel like being around him, now that I think about it."
Raditz rolled his eyes, "Suit yourself," He said, walking up the steps to the wooden doors, "I'll be upstairs boozin' up before I leave for three days." He then continued to grumble moodily under his breath as he entered the foyer.
Goten was soon to follow. He figured he would attempt to figure out what was wrong with Trunks and why he chose to be such an ass recently. Besides, what was the worst that would happen? Trunks tell him to get the fuck out of his room (or whatever room he was currently haunting).
He didn't have to look far. He sought out Trunks' ki figured out that he was in one of the lounge rooms on the first floor. Just as he rounded the corner to walk down the corridor leading to the lounge, he saw Seventeen leaning against the threshold, talking.
"-Gotta get ready to leave in a few hours," The dark-haired man said to an unseen Trunks, "And if you aren't too plastered by the time I get back, we might just finish what we started." He smiled with mock-innocence and took a step back from the threshold, waving slightly.
Fucking bitch. Was the only thing that Goten could think about as his expression turned to a frown and he marched down the hall. He pretended not to notice the older man eyeing him up and down when they passed, but it only made his temper rise more. The therapist was right, he really did have a lot of pent-up anger that needed to be handled.
He leaned up against the threshold, much like Seventeen did, but on the opposite side. He idly watched his flaky boyfriend toss back a shot of liquor, before making his presence known. He rapped his knuckles smartly on the wood of the door frame.
"Knock, knock, Trunks..." He said in a dead, flat tone. He kept his expression stony as he watched Trunks jump from fear and stare at him like a deer caught in headlights.
"Yeah," Goten continued, keeping the same tone. He pushed himself up off of the wall and started slowly toward the older teen, "Didn't expect me to show up here, did ya?"
Trunks remained silent and flopped down on the white couch that was situated in front of the table that held his drink. He propped his head in his hand and stared blankly at the tall, frosted-glass bottle. He didn't bother to respond to Goten's question.
"Ain't got nothin' to say, huh, Trunks?" The younger teen continued, advancing slowly still, "I betcha you're fucking drunk. You're always fucking drunk, ain't you?" In a burst of rage, he threw an empty shot glass against a painting of a mountain range, where it shattered into a thousand tiny pieces.
"I just wanna know," He continued shakily, sitting before Trunks and putting his hands on either side of the older male's face, so that there was no way that he didn't have his undivided attention, "What the fuck is wrong with you? Why the fuck do you keep doing fucked up shit!"
Trunks' drunken gaze remained locked on angry, dark eyes. He stared for a moment, cocking his jaw as if debating what to say. Finally he blew out an alcohol-scented breath and said: "I'm cheating on you with him." His mouth upturned at the corner, if only slightly.
Goten dropped his hands but didn't lose his seating position. Strangely, he didn't feel quite as angry as he thought he would. Still, he had to know, "Why am I not surprised?" He said, "Since when?"
"'Bout two weeks ago. He took me out, we got fucked up on shit-knows-what, and we've been fucking ever since." Trunks' face remained passive, as if he didn't care one bit about the news he was divulging to his supposed beloved boyfriend.
He took Goten's silence as a cue to continue, "We got caught, you know? Yeah, some nobody got pissed that Mom took their client, or whatever, and took blackmailing photos of us. Boy, Mom and Dad were pissed as hell." A very Vegeta-like grin spread across his face and he sat back to enjoy a moment of laughter, "But you know what?" He asked, "I got out of it real quick. See, Mom and Dad were gonna kick Seventeen out, and all that shit. But I threatened to tell everyone about both of their affairs. Yeah," He laughed, "I went there."
"He's got you wrapped around his little finger, don't he?" The younger teen said, shaking his head and standing up, "I can't believe this; I feel like I don't even fucking know you!" He said loudly, getting angry at Trunks' lack of remorse, "You're spoiled and you just don't know how to fucking take no for an answer! You know what?" He clenched his fist angrily and growled, trying to control his temper, "I only agreed to go out with you because you wouldn't just let it go. You had to keep pushin' and pushin' and makin' an ass of yourself until you got what the fuck you wanted!
"So I want you to tell me," He continued, feeling more confident now that he was on a roll, "Is this the reason why you've been actin' like a jerk to me all this time, and fightin' with me? 'Cause you seriously had me convinced that you were going through somethin' rough and wanted to be left alone. Is it really just 'cause you're fuckin' some other guy? What does he do, Trunks? Get you good and doped up, fucks you, then dips out on you? What the fuck are you gonna do once your little candy-ass fuck buddy is bored of you? I mean, we all know he's a fuckin' slut! "
"How 'bout you shut the fuck up about shit you don't know about!" Trunks finally said, jumping up. He swayed on the spot, but continued to glare at Goten all the same, "Get the fuck up out my face, about shit that don't concern you! I don't even wanna see your ass right now!"
"Is that right? Well, you ain't gonna be fuckin' it, neither!"
Trunks clenched his fists in anger. In a surge of impulse he grabbed the neck of his bottle of booze and chucked it at Goten's retreating figure. His drunken attempt at intimidation missed by a long-shot, causing the bottle to crash against the wall, spilling strong-smelling liquid all over the place. "GO FUCK YOURSELF!" He cried before the younger teen slammed the door shut behind him.
Goten didn't bother to look back as he stormed back down the hall. He was in such a rage, and not because Trunks cheated; he had his suspicions about Trunks and Seventeen ever since they both started hanging out. He was actually pissed at the fact that Trunks could be so blind and stupid. There was no way that he-Trunks-could not see that he was being duped. It was no secret that Seventeen was a master manipulator.
He had to admit that he felt awkward about the whole relationship with his "best friend". He was being completely honest when he told Trunks that he only agreed to date him because of being pressured into it. That's not to say that he didn't share love for his friend, because he did. They've been through so much together, and they've grown up together. So much was shared between the two of them, and it pained him to see Trunks being taken advantage of. There's no telling how much Seventeen had already taken.
He reached the stairs, debating on two things: hunting Seventeen down and beating the ever-loving shit out of him, or sticking to his original plan and finding Vegeta.
Back in the lounge, hot, angry tears spilled out of Trunks' eyes. He couldn't believe the nerve of Goten barging into his house and trying to tell him what to do. What was worse was Goten's admittance to never having feelings for him in the first place; that hurt.
He stood there, seething, staring blurrily at the door with his fists clenched at his side. The tears continued to streak down his face, but no sound came from him, save for an occasional sniffle. He had to wonder what in the world possessed him into thinking that he could continue such a lavish and shameless affair with Seventeen and still play boyfriend to Goten. Was he really so wrapped up in fulfilling his sexual desires that he didn't see the discomfort he was causing his so-called best friend?
Trunks swore under his breath, he really should have called off the relationship with Goten. If he'd have known that Goten felt uncertain, then he would have been able to give himself to his new crush with a perfectly-clear conscience. Then, like a sudden spark to the back of his mind, a thought struck him: what if Goten tried to do something horrible to Seventeen? Goten may be a docile person, but what would stop him from trying cause harm after everything he's just found out?
"No," He said aloud to himself, "Goten's not a vengeful person...is he?" He had to stop and question himself. Never had he seen Goten act out of turn like he just did; this begged the question if he really knew Goten at all. All his life, he was only concerned with numero uno; himself. Everything he ever did was for his benefit, even bribing Goten with expensive toys as children just to let him win a fight. It seemed, from what just happened, that he really didn't know his friend in-depth at all.
Because of this revelation, he became concerned. He had no clue what Goten was planning on doing, and seeking out the ki signature was hard, due to his level of intoxication. Still, he had a bit of a stubborn streak in him, and out-right refused to admit that he had to slow down.
The best thing that he decided he had to do was seek either Seventeen or Goten out himself.
-0-
"Stupid, stupid, stupid!" Goten said through gritted teeth as he followed his uncle's ki signature. A part of him wished that he could just turn back, but a darker part of him egged him on, reminding him that the little cunt, Seventeen, deserved an ass beating.
He figured that wherever Raditz was, chances were, Seventeen was nearby. He more or less wanted to know what was so freaking great about the scrawny little prick, besides being the only person who would put-out, that made Trunks so magnetized toward him. In Goten's opinion, the only thing Seventen had going for him was his looks.
The teen soon approached a downstairs bathroom in the middle of a corridor devoted to mostly unused bed rooms and junk rooms. He was quite sure it was near where Seventeen's bed room was. He stopped outside of a door, where he heard two voices: a gruff baritone laced with agitation, and a quieter, slightly-monotonous one. Both Raditz and Seventeen were together; this posed a slight problem since he wanted the bastard one-on-one.
"Will you quit pressin' so hard, it burns!" He heard Raditz complain; there was a slight whine to the man's voice that didn't suit him at al.
"Then leave your fucking hand still, please, so I can clean it properly," Seventeen replied, "Your dumb ass shouldn't have been squeezing the shot glass so tightly, and you wouldn't have sliced your hand open."
Aside from a few pained hisses coming from Raditz, and exasperated sighs from the other man, there was nothing more to the conversation. Just when Goten was tired of standing there, and was going to give his mission up as a bad job, he heard Raditz speak once more.
"You sure you don't wanna go with me?" He said, "It'll be loads of fun; I have a beach-front hotel and-ow, careful!"
"I told you I have to work, or I would go in a heartbeat."
Raditz scoffed, "You wouldn't miss an opportunity to spend three days partying on a private island. You're just staying 'cause of that brat."
"Of course not. If it weren't for Dez and Morgan getting charged with selling ruffies outside of the club, I'd be there," He paused for a second, and the sound of a tape-like substance being peeled was heard, "That's not to say I'm not going to take advantage of having a willing-and-able guy at my disposal." He finished his speech with a small laugh. "And could you open the door for me?"
Goten froze on the spot as he watch the door being pulled open by the long free arm of his uncle. He saw Seventeen, who was sitting cross-legged on the lidded toilet, wrapping a bandage around Raditz's right hand. Raditz had to sit on the floor, but because of his height and size, he was still easily accessible by his partner.
"You could've knocked; we would have let you in," Seventeen said obviously, not looking at Goten, "And if you were trying to sneak up on someone, you were doing a pretty shitty job," He finally looked up with a teasing glint in his eye, "I saw your shadow from below the door."
The young half-Saiyan seemed lost for words; this was not the entrance he wanted. Still, that insolent expression on that blue-eyed pretty-boy's face heated his blood, and the primal urge to get violent was almost impossible to ignore. His confidence was soon restored when Seventeen rolled his eyes and went back to his task, as if Goten were never there in the first place.
"I wanna know what you're getting at," Goten said boldly, folding his arms smartly across his chest.
Seventeen ripped the end of the bandage tape and fixed it to the other layers of bandage wrapped around Raditz's hand. "You're done; out." He demanded flatly.
"Out...what?" Raditz asked stupidly.
"Out, as in 'get the fuck out before I throw you out myself'."
Raditz glared at the smaller man, "Bitch," He spat, standing up.
"I know," Seventeen replied with a smile as the injured man stormed out of the room.
His attention was now back on Goten, whose confidence was waning once more. "I was wondering when you might confront me." He said, placing the roll of bandage tape back in its box.
Goten ignored the arrogant remark and chose to get to the point. "Why do I get the feeling that you really don't give a fuck that you're turning Trunks into a drug-abusing alcoholic?"
"I haven't made your boyfriend do shit. Everything we've done together has been completely consensual, and he knew the consequences of getting caught." Seventeen stood up and tilted his head slightly, staring at Goten curiously, "But don't worry, lover boy," He continued, stepping forward, his smile widening, "When I fucked him, I fucked him real good. Although, it's such a shame that you chose not to put out...he's a very good lay, and eager to please; you don't know what you're missing."
"You bastard!" Goten growled through gritted teeth, "How can you-? Why the fuck-?" The irate teen was so beside himself with anger that he stumbled stupidly on his words. He felt his ki rise with his temper, and his readiness to fight. Never before, since he was small, had he been so adamant about seeing someone beaten into a pulp.
"Use full sentences like a big boy," The older man teased, brushing past the teen as if he never registered the offensive body-language, or the unnatural body heat courtesy of the ki flowing off of the boy's body.
Goten stared incredulously at Seventeen's retreating figure. "Don't you walk the fuck away from me!" He called, causing the man to stop and turn purposely slow.
"Please tell me you're joking," Seventeen half-laughed, "You cannot possibly think that you're going to fight me and win."
"So what the fuck if I am? I'm not through with your ass, not after all the shit you're putting Trunks through! He's a fucking wreck and its all your fault!"
"Oh, so me showing your boyfriend, whom you've done nothing for, a great time is bad? If you truly cared so much, he wouldn't have come to me in the first place. Sounds like you're the one who needs an ass beating, not me. Its just you and me in this hall...so what are you waiting for?"
Goten had never found one singular person to be so infuriatingly annoying. Something finally snapped inside of him, like a dam breaking, and he felt a flood of rage flow within. He moved furiously toward the man, who made no move to defend himself.
"You evil...disgusting...prissy little BITCH!" Goten cried, sending a balled fist toward Seventeen's face.
Seventeen easily caught the fist scowled, which looked odd on him considering he normally showed no expression at all. "I'm not," He ground out, squeezing the fist in his hand, "PRISSY!"
Goten winced from the pain of his fist being crushed with shocking strength. "Well...you're still a fucking bitch!" He snarled, gripping Seventeen's shoulder with his free hand and using his own weight and strength to slam the small-framed body against the stone wall.
The older man gasped from having the wind knocked out of him, and a nasty crack split upward along the wall. He involuntarily released Goten's fist, giving the half-Saiyan the opportunity to pummel him in the gut repeatedly. His shoulder was released, only to have a muscular forearm shoved under his neck.
Blood was choked up and coughed sickly onto Goten's face. Suddenly the half-Saiyan felt Seventeen's hand shove against his chest followed by an excruciating pain. He cried aloud and flew into the opposite wall nearby a wooden door.
He was stunned for a moment, and his vision was blurred. His chest felt burnt and raw and he shakily picked himself up from the floor. He had no idea that Seventeen possessed any strength, aside from basic human strength, at all considering how small he was and he had no ki signature.
"So you wanna do it that way, huh?" He asked, forming an orb of ki in his right palm and launching it deftly at Seventeen, who dodged it, causing a half-moon table to explode into nothing more than dust.
Now that Goten knew he was fighting a more worthy opponent, he was ready, and didn't feel the need at all to hold back. He spun around to face Seventeen who had just tried to strike him from behind and caught him in a vice-like grip. The half-Saiyan threw his opponent bodily to the ground. He pounced on the sprawled-out figure, pinning him by the neck with one hand to the floor.
"Fuck you," he spat (actually spraying the older man in the face with saliva). He tightened his grip on the other's throat and formed a white-hot ball of ki in his free hand.
Seventeen's blood-stained face was illuminated by the sphere of burning energy. His eyes widened fearfully for just a second before he quickly raised his right knee, colliding it as hard as he could with is aggressor's groin.
The half-Saiyan looked as if he were going to puke, as saliva filled his mouth. Tears quickly formed in his widened eyes, and his rigid form slackened completely. Before he could collapse fully on top of Seventeen, He was flipped onto his back, staring blurrily up at the man he hated most.
"You're going to pay dearly for what you've just done to me," Seventeen threatened hoarsely, breathing heavily, "I've got the perfect punishment in mind..." He coughed weakly and withdrew a worn-handled pocket knife.
His eyes glinted menacingly, almost madly as he flipped the well-sharpened blade out and thrust it against Goten's exposed neck. He pushed the teen's head back by shoving his free hand under his chin and started to slowly slide the knife across bare flesh.
Warm, crimson blood flowed freely from the inch-long cut that was slowly lengthening. A strangled gasp escaped the teen's throat, "Fu-ckin' fag," He choked, refusing to show anymore weakness than he already shown, "Get your...hands off!" He grabbed the thin wrists of his attacker, trying to pry the hands off of him with much difficulty. Just when the knife was pulled from his neck, he felt the pressure of Seventeen's body on his lift.
The next thing he saw, when he sat up, holding the bleeding wound, was a completely uncoordinated Trunks trying to drag a resistant Seventeen into a nearby room. The pair stumbled and fell to the floor with a loud, painful thud, so that only two pairs of feet were shown outside of the door.
Apparently, in Goten's opinion, Trunks had no intention on checking up on him, so he made a run for it in case Seventeen got out of Trunks' clutches.
Meanwhile, in the room that Trunks dragged Seventeen to, which just so happened to be the small bathroom, both men quickly gathered themselves off of the marble floor.
Without caring that he was messing with fire, Trunks grabbed Seventeen's shirt front and pinned him against the wall. "What the fuck were you thinking?" He demanded, blowing his alcohol-laced breath into the other man's face, "You coulda killed him, you dumb shit!"
Seventeen glared angrily, all sophistication lost, "His bitch-ass fucking deserved it!" He snapped back, pushing the drunken teen off of him and started examining his reflection in the mirror nearby, He stretched his neck out to examine the red hand mark marring his otherwise flawless skin, "Fuck, that's gonna bruise..." he muttered, lightly touching the mark, "He better be fucking grateful that I'm on bartending duty tonight; this would be unacceptable if I were stripping." He ran water from the tap and began scrubbing the blood off of his face, and rinsing it out of his mouth.
"He won't fuck with you again," Trunks promised, snaking his arms around the older man's waist and pressing his lips against the mark, "And I didn't know you did other things besides strip."
Seventeen spat red-tinged water into the basin and spun to face Trunks, wrapping his arms around the teen's neck, "I can do any job out there; that's why I get paid so well," He said, smiling, "And do make sure your little boyfriend doesn't fuck with me; you don't want him to die, do you? 'Cause I'm not gonna hold back if there's a next time."
He pushed past the other, not waiting for the response, walking toward the exit, "Gotta finally get ready to leave now." He said, leaving the room.
Trunks followed after him, "Goten's not my boyfriend anymore," He called out, "And I was wondering if you would be..."
"I'll think about it," Seventeen responded, not looking back, and giving an airy wave.
Goten finally stopped his mad dash throughout the halls. He honestly felt a little ridiculous running so fast and so far, but the run was also quite relieving and refreshing. He had to appreciate the enormity of the castle, and all of its unused rooms. Despite his current mood, he made a mental note to scope out the place one day.
Yes, he was still pretty pissed. He never hated anyone so much. His pride was crushed, and he really wasn't much of a prideful person. Just the fact that Seventeen won only because he fought dirty set his teeth on edge and made his blood boil. He stopped himself before he made the decision to have another row with the guy.
Calm down, Goten, He mentally told himself, There's no sense in causing more drama. What's done is done, and there ain't nothing that can be done about it. Trunks made his choice, and I've made mine.
He exhaled in exasperation, feeling weary and strangely older, due to this moment of maturity. He leaned up against a huge wooden door that he had stopped in front of in order to take a breather. The door, however, swung open with the force of his weight, causing the teen to stumble backwards into the room it concealed.
"Jeez!" Goten complained, staring at the door as if it had said something offensive. He sighed again and chose to take a good look at his surroundings, being that he had never been in this particular part of the castle before.
He couldn't help but let his jaw drop slightly at the enormity of the room. It was obviously a room of great importance due to the elaborate decoration. However, there was also a look of severe neglect. Great, faded crimson tapestries covered portions of the massive stone walls from the high ceiling to the dusty floor; Situated beneath a wide tapestry decorated with the Saiyan crest was a stone dais. On top of the dais was the most ornately carved, high-backed throne he had ever seen. It looked as if there were battle scenes carved into the areas not covered by red velvet cushion.
Goten stepped toward the dais; his footsteps were muffled by the thick layer of dust coating the red carpet beneath him. He then examined the stone throne, running his fingers over the little carved warriors battling strange creatures, possibly from other worlds. His hands then smoothed over the worn, dusty velvet cushions, pressing here and there to test its softness.
Then, a most curious idea struck him. His dark brown eyes scanned the area for any intruders; the coast was clear. Without a second though he climbed onto the throne. It felt sort of awkward sitting imperially high above the floor, but he never felt cooler, or any closer to being like royalty. He placed his hands on the arms and looked around; he wondered if the previous owner of the castle actually sat in this chair, since obviously no one has used it in ages.
"Are we having fun?" Asked a voice that caused Goten's heart to leap into his throat. His eyes widened as the castle's owner swaggered into the room.
"Vegeta!" Goten squeaked, hopping off of the throne as if he were sitting on a small bed of hot coals, "I-I was just gonna go lookin' for you!" He tugged nervously at the bottom of his charcoal-gray shirt. Why did Vegeta have to be so damn quiet?
"What a coincidence," The prince said, stepping up the dais, "I was just looking for you."
Goten didn't know why he was feeling so intimidated by Vegeta's presence. The very demeanor of the man was condescending and intimidating on its own without hearing him actually speak. "What for?" He then asked, trying to keep his tone level.
"I felt couple of irregular ki coming from the lower east-wing, and I went to investigate the culprits. Of course, I wasted my time trying to ask my son, because he had taken to hiding in his room...so all that leaves is you, Goten," He said the teen's name with a slight tone of impudence, smiling when the faintest of blushes crossed the boy's face.
"So," He continued, climbing the final step so that he was face-to-face with the half-Saiyan, "Are you going to tell me why an antique piece of furniture has been reduced to rubble, and an ugly crack has run up my wall, or are we going to have to resort to other methods of interrogation?" A slightly mad glint shone in the prince's eye, similar to the one Seventeen had when he was trying to murder Goten. What in the world was with these people and their sick ways of behaving?
"I had a row with Seventeen," Goten sighed, deciding its best to be truthful to an accomplished Legilimens, "We shared some words, and I got pissed. I started the fight, but he pushed me to it." He pressed his lips together, looking away. He hated feeling like a tattle-tale.
"I don't blame you for getting upset," Vegeta replied truthfully, which genuinely shocked the younger male. It was so unlike Vegeta to be this candid with him, "The little bastard's been an issue for myself as well..." He let out a sigh, and Goten assumed it was best not to ask the prince to continue. He already knew Trunks' version of the story, anyhow, despite how fucked up it was.
He started to feel sorry for Vegeta. Trunks was a real ass toward him, especially now that he had been dogging after Seventeen. "I really wanted to hurt him," He said suddenly, almost automatically, "But I held back...and I got hit wit a couple of cheap-shots."
"I see," The prince said, noting the dried blood on Goten's neck and shirt, "Now you know to not hold back. I keep telling you virtuous idiots over the years to pretty much go for the kill, but no one listens." He smirked at the shamed look on the younger boy's face. He then took a seat on the throne, looking powerful yet aloof. The look suited him well, making Goten feel dumb for ever sitting there in the first place.
"So why, may I ask, have you the desire to seek me out?" The Saiyan stared down his nose at Goten, making the teen feel rather small and insignificant.
Goten bit his lip, feeling rather awkward. He hated asking for favors, but he did need something from the prince. "Its the journal. I was wondering if you could finish translating it for me, since Trunks has kinda given up on it." He smiled awkwardly, but Vegeta's face remained unreadable.
He actually started to notice just how gracefully Vegeta had aged. His face had thinned out some, allowing his high cheekbones to add more definition to his face. Faint dark circles shadowed his eyes, and there was also a small hint of facial hair. The slightly older look suited the prince well.
"It seems that you have other things on your mind," Vegeta said suddenly, startling Goten out of his distracted trance.
"I'm sorry," The teen apologized, "I-I just...what're you doing?" He asked, feeling the prince's hand brush the fringe of his shaggy bangs out of his eyes. He felt the strangest sensation, causing a heavy blush to blotch his face. Something was definitely up with Vegeta.
"You really are much like your father, you know that?" The older Saiyan said quietly, letting his hand skim over the teen's neck and to his shoulder.
"I-I've been told that..." Goten whispered, turning his eyes downward. He felt the slight tug of Vegeta's hand, which was drawing him closer to where the prince sat.
They were close now, noses almost touching. "Such a shame he doesn't see that..." The prince continued softly. He never imagined himself in this type of situation. The last time he had ever been with anyone was the night he spent with his wife. Still, he was correct in saying how similar Goten was to Goku. Perhaps he didn't want to admit that he had grown so accustomed to a familiar person's company; that he didn't want to be without it. Had he really gotten that insecure?
The strangest thing was, Goten wasn't resisting.
Goten stayed rooted on the spot. He wanted to tear away, to just leave the castle and escape all the craziness he had been subjected to that day, but he just couldn't. Some other, irrational, and slightly inquiring part of him made him stay. The feeling of Vegeta's hot breath fanning over his face; the closeness...it was so wrong.
Barely a second later, both saiyans were locked in a furious kiss. As a seventeen-year-old, Goten's sexual appetite could not be satisfied. He couldn't look at a person without imagining them naked, and here he was, bold as brass, locking lips with one of the most dangerous man to ever consider kissing.
Shirts were stripped off, and jeans were awkwardly stepped out of. Soon Goten was straddled across Vegeta's lap. The young half-Saiyan's hands shook with nervousness, for he never once went this far with Trunks. Vegeta would be the first man he would ever have sex with.
Vegeta smirked against the heated flesh at the small whimper the younger man gave, and felt the uncomfortably hard length press urgently against his. He felt trembling hands press against his chest, gently trailing over his muscles in a weak attempt at being sensual.
Just like Goku, He thought in his mind, letting his fingers trail lightly over the impressive hard-on. He felt the teen quiver slightly at the erotic feeling. He knew that a Saiyan's body could handle much abuse and agony, so he wasn't worried about physical harm. He was concerned about the moment.
"Wait-" Goten whimpered, feeling the prince's hands grip under his thighs to raise him up. It had just hit him that they were about to have sex without any sort of lube; "Vegeta-what about-"
So lost in the moment, and his own fantasies, he ignored Goten's protests. He quickly positioned himself with one hand, while holding his grip on the leg. His eyes squeezed shut and gritted his teeth at the tight feeling of muscles surrounding his length. He drowned out Goten's pained cry with his mouth, for the sound echoed through the room.
With the aid of the older, far more experienced man, Goten began slowly rocking his hips. Pained groans escaped his lips as the discomfort slowly ebbed away; replaced by the erotic feeling of a hand wrapping itself around his uncomfortably hard member. The painful jab of guilt hit him through his chest at the though of enjoying such an intimate moment with his ex's father, but he couldn't possibly ask the prince to stop, not as far as they've gone.
Vegeta involuntarily slid a little further down the throne, tilting his head back at the amazing feelings of fucking for the first time in a while. He looked at the male on top of him; both of those strong arms were grasping either side of the back-rest of the throne as if it were his lifeline; his face was slightly above his, and bowed so that their foreheads were almost touching; his lips, the same shape as Goku's, were parted to allow breathy moans to escape.
The prince found the view quite erotic, and his eyes trained on that mouth, and all the things its look-alike has done to him flooded into his mind. His hand around the heavily-beading shaft it held began to pump faster while squeezing harder. He broke his gaze from the mouth and pressed his own against it, slipping his tongue inside.
The way Vegeta touched the young half-Saiyan with his hands and mouth; the way he wordlessly demonstrated how to fuck a man in such an awkward and space-limited position; and the way he could make him last confused the teen. He wasn't sexually attracted to Trunks, and he was quite sure that he preferred girls, so why was he tangled up with Vegeta on his dusty throne? He decided that now was definitely not the time to answer.
He heard Vegeta give a muffled moan against his mouth, and the man's body shuddered from what he hoped was an amazing climax. Just knowing that he willingly pleasured a person who couldn't be satisfied about anything at all was enough to give him that push to send him over the edge.
Breaking from the kiss, and giving a loud groan that echoed throughout the vast chamber, hot fluid shot from his tip and over the hand that held him. Both men, stayed in that awkward and painful (especially for Goten's knees) position for a few moments, relishing in the aftermath of their spontaneous tryst.
Minutes later, both males awkwardly gathered their things from the floor. Goten kept stealing glances at Vegeta, hoping for some sort of conversation, as he shook his shirt free of ancient dust. He winced at the feeling of his body jerking with the motion of his arms shaking his shirt. His first time wasn't completely unpleasant, but he definitely couldn't see the absolute thrill in it. Being screwed in a place that wasn't anatomically designed to have things inserted in hurt like hell!
He glanced at the prince once more, but still no response. Vegeta seemed to pointedly ignore his silent plea for attention.
"Please say something," The teen pleaded in exasperation, clutching his shirt in one hand, while trying to hold his baggy jeans up with the other (he hadn't put his belt on yet). He stopped and stared at Vegeta, waiting for some sort of response.
"You want me to translate that journal, right?" The prince said rather coldly, slipping his own shirt back on. He cut his black eyes at the younger male. When the teen nodded he continued, "I'll do it for you if I have your word that you will never bring this up. Do not even come to me about anything but your ruddy journal." His eyes closed and he gave a frustrated sigh, "This was obviously a mistake."
"Mistake?" Goten said rather loudly, "What the hell do you mean by that? I don't understand..."
Vegeta's eyes flashed dangerously, and Goten backed down. "If you take a moment to think-you know what? Just go." He pointed toward the door, lips pressed into a thin line from anger.
The teen was confused, and desperately wanted to know what was so suddenly wrong. Did he-Vegeta-think he was a terrible lay? In the half-Saiyan's opinion, it wasn't bad, despite how sudden their coupling was. He felt bad, and wanted to reassure the prince.
"Please, Vegeta," He said softly, "It wasn't bad...don't be so upset."
Vegeta felt his blood start to boil with anger. What was it with Kakarrot and his brats and wanting to push topics that should otherwise be left alone? Why couldn't he just be left alone when he asks? This annoyed him to no end, and he fought the urge to lash out. Instead, he chose to give the teen a second warning.
"If you don't kindly get the fuck away from me, I'll make sure you do, even if it means you leaving with more than just a cut on your neck and a sore ass."
With an injured look, Goten left the room without another word, feeling that maybe he himself was at fault.
Vegeta watched the door shut behind the younger male, and a wave of anger crashed over him. In a blind rage, he blasted the throne with a powerful ki sphere. The action, however, did nothing to alleviate his stress, as a great plume of dust and bits of debris rose into the air, eventually reaching him. He dropped to the ground as he accidentally breathed in the putrid, tainted air, and coughed violently.
Eyes streaming from the harshness of the dusty air, and his throat searing from his coughing fit, he gathered himself up and got out of the hazardous environment as fast as he could. Once outside, he leaned against the stone wall, breathing deeply the fresh air. The throne room door had remained open, allowing dust to drift lazily outward with the flow of air. A chink of quickly fading, orange sunlight from a nearby window illuminated the cursed particles.
"Fuck," He rasped, spitting onto the ground. He pushed himself off of the wall and walked to the nearest bathroom. He turned the tap over the stone basin, gathered water from the icy jet and into his hands and brought the liquid to his lips.
With his throat soothed to a mere achy, dull burn, he felt his body lose its tension. Once more, he dropped to the floor, sliding on his back against the wall, so as to ease the force of his fall. It was then he got to assess the potentially incriminating situation that he had put himself and Goten in.
Though the laws of sixteen-year-olds and legal adults having sex was a gray area, with each location having a different opinion on whether it was illegal or not, this was still a horrible situation that the prince had put himself in. If this ever got out to anyone, he could lose his very livelihood as he knew it. Everything he had worked so hard to achieve would be for nothing.
Not only would he be thoroughly fucked, but so would Goten. It was horrible enough the boy had to go to therapy because of his parents, he didn't need another reason to see a shrink.
He couldn't believe that he had let himself go; that he let himself lose all sense of composure just for a few moments of missed bliss. He wasn't sure if he could face either Goten or Kakarrot after this. This very thought made him wonder what exactly was fucking wrong with him. Was he really this spiraled out of control with his own life that he had to perform in thoughtless and selfish acts with other people in order to feel secure with himself?
He sighed heavily and stared vacantly at the wall. The only thing he had keeping him from getting into serious trouble is the hope that Goten kept his trap shut, because he sure as hell wasn't going to speak.
-0-
Goten was in a right state. He knew that Trunks often complained of his father's moods flip-flopping, often joking if the man were bi-polar, but now that he had seen evidence of this accusation first-hand, he started to believe that maybe he did have a mood disorder of sorts.
He sighed heavily, running his hand absently over the walls as he walked aimlessly down the corridors with no particular destination in mind. Who was he to judge? He enjoyed the tryst as well, even after refusing Trunks left and right. Maybe there was something wrong with himself? Perhaps he saw something in Vegeta at that moment that sparked some untapped and hidden feelings of attraction?
Was it because, despite the prince's general attitude toward his family, he was far more dependable than his own flaky, childish father? He felt a pang of guilt hit him for comparing his own father, whom he did love, to his father's counterpart. However, he had to admit that it was his father's irresponsible attitude that driven him to feel this particular way.
That had to be it. Goten was attracted to and admired Vegeta's maturity. This revelation, however, brought him back to the subject of Trunks. Trunks was smart and good-looking, no doubt, but he was also pushy and childish, as he made a point of saying earlier when he arrived at the castle. Trunks' constant immaturity and irrational outbursts made it hard for him to enjoy his best friend's company as a boyfriend. It made it even harder to become attracted to him physically.
He felt a second jab of guilt. He was just as bad, sticking with Trunks for so long when he didn't feel anything for him other than friendship. He really didn't want to give up his friendship that had lasted his entire life over something that wasn't meant to be. Suddenly, he got the idea that maybe he could talk things out with Trunks. It had been a bit since their fight; hopefully he had sobered up and calmed down a bit.
Making up his mind, he set off for Trunks' ki signature. He eventually found his quarry lounging in the most used sitting room, absently flipping through channels on the large television. He swallowed his pride and humbly walked into the room, making sure he appeared genuinely regretful.
"Hey, Trunks..." He said solemnly once he approached the small sofa the older teen was stretched across.
Trunks jumped, "What the hell! Don't scare me like that!" He fussed, craning his head to look at the intruder. "I really hope you've come to apologize for what you did," He said, frowning and sitting up straight.
Goten felt a slight twinge of annoyance at the remark, but decided to ignore it. It wasn't worth another fight. "I have," He said, "I shouldn't have attacked him like that, and I'm really sorry."
The older male nodded, "It's alright," He said. His eyes spotted the dried blood on the younger's neck, "That's what he did to you?"
A hand covered his wound, "Y-yeah," Goten said, "I ain't cleaned it yet...got distracted. But that's not important." He breathed in then exhaled a bit loudly, "Can I sit down?"
Trunks, considerably less drunk, realized that Goten wasn't here just to apologize for the fight. He had never seen his best friend so serious and troubled. He nodded and gestured for him to sit.
"Trunks...I played you," Goten began, tugging the bottom of his shirt, "I made you think that I had feelings for you, when I didn't. I never did. You're my best friend, and I wanted to make you happy, so I went along with it. I hoped that maybe I might be attracted to you, but it never happened. I kept lying to you and saying that I loved you...when I didn't." He stopped and looked over at Trunks, who stared at a spot on the floor between his knees, but listened all the same. Goten couldn't read his expression, and took his silence as cue to continue.
"I knew it was wrong. I'm really, really sorry I did that to you. It was just so awkward 'cause we grew up together. I'm not the one for you, and that I am very sure of. I just hope that we can still be friends. I really care for you, just not in that way." He glanced again, still no reaction, "I shouldn't have taken it as far as I did."
Trunks finally looked at Goten. He looked as if he were trying to remain composed, though his eyes did look a bit glassy. "You aren't the only one who's sorry," He said, not looking away, "I was wrong to put you in a situation that made you uncomfortable. I should've known from the get-go that you wouldn't want to, and I shouldn't have gotten so dramatic. I'm fucked in the head, Goten, and I don't need a shrink or anyone to tell me that...no offence. I guess I just latched on to the only person who seemed to give a god damn, and I took it too far. You aren't bad for me, Goten," He sniffed and tried to blink back stubborn tears, "I'm bad for you." He sniffed again and wiped away a stray tear with the tips of his fingers.
"I guess that's why I'm so attracted to Seventeen," He continued, noticing the dark look that had fallen over Goten's face at the mention of the name, "Because he's just as fucked in the head as I am. We're bad for each other...and I like it. I'm sorry that I cheated on you with him."
"Its fine," The younger half-Saiyan said quietly, "As long as we are cool with each other, and can still be friends."
"Yeah," Trunks responded thickly, "I still wanna be friends with you."
Goten genuinely smiled for the first time in what he thought was a long time. He knew that it would take a while for him and Trunks to work things out; there are some things that magic and power cannot fix. He knew that a simple apology wasn't enough to get them back to where they used to be; and now that Trunks is with Seventeen, he'd have to learn to accept that, as much as he didn't want to. Still, he was glad that they agreed to be friends.
He leaned over and embraced his friend, who gladly returned the gesture. There was no groping, or filthy words. It was purely platonic.
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