Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Primal Urges ❯ Chapter 3

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

SUBJECT LINE: [Fic] Primal Urges, Part 2 of ? by DharmaSerenity based on story idea by Vickalinda

Title: Primal Urges, Part 2 of ?
AUTHOR: DHARMASERENITY, based on story idea by Vickalinda(!!)
Archive : yes
Category : Yaoi/Shonen ai, angst, Lemon/Lime, descriptions of visual art, porn, etc.

Pairing(s): Gh x MTr, Gohan dominant!!!

Disclaimers : the characters of DBZ are copyrighted to
someone else, used without permission and no money is being made from the following fanfic

Rating: NC-17

Warnings : angst, m/m sex, graphic sex, a teensy bit of violence, descriptions of erotic forms of art, such as photos,
porn, stripping, etc.

Spoilers : End of Buu Saga. But before Gohan got married in Dbz. He never marries Videl in this story.

Notes : This story idea came from Vickalinda. Thank you Vicky!

Feedback : Please let me know what you think. Be as detailed in your critique as possible, please. I look forward to
hearing from you. :)



He waited in the wings, leather straps almost cutting into his pale skin. They started to play his music, and they
announced his name.


"The Exotic, The Erotic -- Gohan!!!"


He came out, white skin standing out against black leather -- looking hungry.


Because they liked that.


They were the usual, sad looking degenerates -- fat men with fat wads of one's in their fat fists.


He eyed them as if they were all beautiful, and in a graceful swing of his leg, squatted in rhythm to the music, moving
his hips as he gripped the slippery pole. He arched his body, neck hanging back as his body moved again towards the
pole, so that he could entwine himself about it.


He was masked. They liked the mystery of him.


They would probably like the youth of his face even more, but he had once danced without his mask, and men went mad.
They all had wanted to take his youth. But his youth was long ago taken, yet they all still saw it within him.


Because they wanted to see it.


But with his mask on, he was sinister. He was gritty.


And they liked that too.


He danced for awhile, teasing them with the ability of his body's flexibility and rhythm, and when he felt their need
grow hot, and their itch grow, aching to stuff an endless stream of one's down his g-string, he removed his clothing,
bit, by teasing bit, teasing them to the point of insanity.


When he finally had nothing left to give them, he walked off, flaccid because it was safest. Flaccid because it was
easiest.


He left the stage, and pulled his mind back from the abyss that he had lived in for the last six minutes and 37 seconds.
With consciousness returned, his mind was flooded with blue/grey eyes, and lavender hair.


And the taste of a kiss.


* * *


Trunks had two meetings that morning and plenty to deal with at work. But when there was a still moment, his mind was
wrenched from the peace that work gave him. It was a struggle to keep it off the end of the previous evening.

With a spare moment, and not wanting to think, he called a real estate broker and arranged to see three apartments that
afternoon.


Bulma had seemed a little disappointed that he wanted to go out on his own so soon after arriving, but he reminded her of
the unease evident on her 9-year old's face as he sat next to him at breakfast. It just wasn't fair to the chibi.


And even though it was himself, Trunks couldn't help but think the little boy precious, and felt protective of him.
The last thing he wanted to do was cause the little version of himself discomfort or unease.


Bulma called him to check up on the results of the meetings, or at least that is what she claimed, but Trunks was not
fooled. She wanted dirt.


With Vegeta and little Trunks at the breakfast table this morning, it was impossible for her to ask him how the party
went.


She had not told Vegeta of their encounter with Gohan and both Bulma and Trunks wanted to keep it that way. No sense
in getting anyone's hopes up if Trunks failed to get Gohan back home again.


"So, how did last night go?"


Trunks felt himself blush, then pushed the end of the night out of his mind as best as he could.


"Let's just say, that I've still got a means of contact with him and that's what is important."


"Ooh, that bad, huh?"


"He was like you described at your party - out to shock."


"Oh, sorry honey. You must have been uncomfortable."


"Yeah, well, I've got his phone number. I'm going to keep in touch with him no matter what. The one thing I can say with
confidence is that he was happy to see me and doesn't seem to want to shut me out. So, that gives me hope."


"Well, that's a start. Well, I'd better go. Let me know how you make out with the apartment. And Trunks, while you are
working, I can have it furnished for you so you don't have to take off, ok? I can manage at least that."


He thanked her, and did what he could to keep his mind on work for the rest of the day.


* * *


He was looking at the view of the third apartment the broker took him too. This one was last on the list because it was
a two-bedroom apartment.


The window he looked out of had a gorgeous view of the City in all its glory with dusk beginning to settle. The apartment
was spacious, yet gave him a warm feeling.


"And, the extra bedroom will give you a place for guests to stay without inconveniencing you. Have a look at it."


Trunks followed the man to the bedroom at the back of the apartment.


And then he thought of Gohan. If, he should need help, perhaps...


Trunks smiled at the broker.


"I like this one the best."


"You could move in immediately if you like?" The broker looked at him hopefully.


Trunks smiled and shook the man's hand.


* * *


The next day, while Trunks was at the office, his mother and father busied themselves with furnishing his new place.
He trusted them completely. He hated shopping anyway, so this was one less thing for him to think about.


He sat at his desk, almost all day, dealing with what seemed a ton of work. Around 2pm, having barely broken for lunch,
already feeling chained to his desk, his Assistant walked in with his mail.


She looked at him apologetically as she handed him the small stack. "I'm sorry Trunks, but there was one envelope I didn't
open because it said 'personal.' I hope you don't mind."


He looked down and saw it and saw that it was in fact a bubble wrap package. He looked up, grateful that she hadn't opened
it. "No, that's fine. Thank you."


She smiled at him then left him alone, knowing how busy he was.


He stared at the envelope, already trembling.


He had no idea what Gohan's handwriting looked like, but just knew it was his neat letters that he was looking at,
addressing the envelope to him.


He looked at the door, and was confident he would not be disturbed as he opened the package. He tugged on the flap,
breaking it loose. He saw that there was a DVD case, and a card inside.


He pulled both out, and felt his face go hot immediately.


The card was another shot of Gohan, most likely from the same photo shoot, although a different shot of him. He wasn't
actually nude in this one, but it was very suggestive. It was black and white again, very shadowy, and beautiful -- again,
tasteful. He was sitting on a wooden chair, slouched down in it slightly. He was shirtless, with a pair of faded blue
jeans on. His white skin practically glistened. His jeans were undone and a strong hand reached into his zipper
suggestively. His head was thrown back, his thick black hair catching overhead light. His face was awash in a look of
ecstasy. If possible, it was even more erotic than the last photo.


Trunks felt his heart beating fast, and put the card down, looking away from the photo, trying to compose himself before
reading it. Unsuccessfully, though, a memory of the kiss flooded his mind, Trunks cursing himself.


He closed his eyes as he lifted the card up, opening it so that he wouldn't have to look at the photo again.


He read the card:


Trunks,


I was so happy that you came to my party. It meant a lot to me. I'd like to see your beautiful face and eyes again.
You are even more stunning than I had remembered. I hope you don't fear what will happen between us - because I will
make you feel so good, Baby. If you doubt that, just watch the DVD.


Call me. 464-2679


Yours any way you want,


Gohan.


Trunks put the card down, trying to catch his breath. He looked briefly at the dvd, but it did not have a cover,
thankfully, so he tried to quickly put it out of his mind.


He got up with determination, stuffing the card and dvd back inside their envelope and shoved the package into his
briefcase.


* * *


Trunks couldn't believe how much they did. He looked at the new apartment, practically fully furnished.


Bulma looked very pleased, but very tired and worn out. Trunks looked at her regretfully and she waived her hand at
him dismissively.


"Don't worry, I'm fine. I feel good. This was fun!"


"I can't believe you did all of this just today."


"Well I had help, but yeah, I'm beat."


She got up from his new couch. "Vegeta's probably starving, anyway. We'll grab a bite to eat then hit the hay. Enjoy
your new place, Trunks."


She hugged him, then made her way to the elevator. He watched her go, then turned back around to eye all that they had
done.


The place practically looked lived in, all the furniture and appliances he could need where they seemed to fit -- they
also brought his small amount of clothing. He could always change things to suit himself, but they practically read
his mind as he envisioned the place for himself. He looked at the living room, shaking his head. He was lucky to have
such a close family.


Then he thought wistfully of the Sons. Before, they were the ones that seemed to have the closer family.


He found himself staring at the DVD player as he thought this, and realizing it and what he had in his briefcase, his face
went red.


He walked out of the room quickly, to have a look at the bedroom instead.


* * *


The pale face looked at him lovingly and smiled. He felt a hand caress his cheek. Trunks leaned in so that the young
man could get closer to him. So that he could smell the young man's special scent - the scent that told him Gohan wanted
him.


The face, smiling, beautiful and pale with flawless features and skin leaned in to give him a sweet kiss.


The kiss changed to a hungry, sex filled need and Trunks could feel his whole body, yearning for this, respond as he
wrapped his arms tightly around the younger man. His fingers dug in to the pale flesh, bruising it.


Trunks pulled away, feeling like he was doing something wrong, taking advantage of the younger man's weakness and need for
comfort.


The young man, looked at him in fear, as Trunks pushed him away. He then turned his back on Trunks and walked out into a
road teaming with traffic.


The young man was mowed down before Trunks horrified eyes within seconds, Trunks calling out his name uselessly.


* * *


Trunks awoke, panting, sweating, his heart hammering in his chest.


He sat on his bed, a thin sheet clinging to his sweaty skin. He tried to suck in air, and waited for his heartbeat to calm
again.


The accusing eyes as they turned away from him...


He closed his eyes, saying, "Gohan."


He heard the name on his own lips and felt his loins respond.


He pushed himself out of bed, just for something to do, and headed for the kitchen so that he could get a glass of water.
He padded on bare feet, the cool wooden floor feeling good.


He stood in the kitchen, illuminated by the open refrigerator's light, just in his boxer shorts as he greedily downed a
glass of water. Once done, he poured himself another glass, drinking that one down too. He then stood there, his hand
pressed against the pain in his forehead from drinking the cold water too quickly.


He walked back out to the living room and almost tripped on something. He looked down and in the dark, could make out his
briefcase where he had thrown it earlier.


He looked up at the dvd player, it's clock lit, almost taunting him.


Before he could think it through, his body acted, and rifled through his bag, retrieving the bubble-wrap envelope. He
pulled out the dvd, the card falling to the floor at his feet. A corner of it landed sharply on top of his bare foot.
He ignored it.


He walked to the machine and hit the button to open it. He pried open the case, and pulled the dvd out, placing it in the
machine's tray. He then pressed it closed as he turned on the TV.


He sat down on the couch, almost on the edge, feeling his nerves ready to jangle at the first glimpse of the film.


A brief introductory logo and then he was looking at Gohan's face, looking young and innocent, smiling into the camera's
lens.


He heard a voice from off camera, "What's your name?"


"Gohan." The young man smiled, and even though the face was innocent, the smile wasn't.


"How old are you, Gohan?" The voice sounded aroused in anticipation.


"I'm 18." Gohan looked down, then up through his thick brows, looking intense and hungry as he answered the question.


"What do you like, Gohan?"


"I like to suck cock." He grinned, looking handsome. "And getting fucked up the ass."


The man off camera practically purred, "Can we see some of that, Gohan?"


"Yeah," and he nodded, looking to his left as the camera panned out, catching another man in the frame next to Gohan. He
was smaller, shorter, but well muscled and very good looking, a blond with long straight hair and brown, almost amber,
eyes.


The man reached out and the two of them entwined in an intense kiss that made Trunks' abdomen twitch and swim. The kiss
continued only briefly, the blond, pushing at Gohan, making him lean against the wall he was standing near. He braced his
arms against the wall, looking eagerly behind himself, his legs and ass leaning towards the blond suggestively. From
behind, the blond unclasped and unzipped Gohan's jeans, and yanked them down, revealing Gohan's lower body.


His skin was so white.


The man pulled down his own jeans and then stuffed his erection into Gohan's backside, Gohan briefly looked at the camera,
before he started moaning and moving against the man thrusting into him. Gohan, his mouth opened, rubbed his face against
the wall, as his body continued to move with each thrust. He occasionally winced in pain, but Trunks could tell he would
answer each wince with a practiced porno moan, licking his lips at the camera, working the sex for all he was worth.


Trunks, felt his mouth flood with saliva and ran to the bathroom, just barely yanking the seat up before he emptied the
contents of his stomach into the bowl.


He panted, clinging to the bowl, feeling dizzy.


As he clung to the cold porcelain, he could still hear Gohan's moans in the other room.


* * *


Trunks ignored the headache that he woke with, as he read through several contracts that had to be signed today.


He was almost successful in keeping thoughts of Gohan out of his mind, the DVD more than likely having the opposite effect
Gohan had wanted.


It had made Trunks sick because he could clearly see how fake and false that pleasure was. And it tore at his heart like
a knife wound that his friend, that boy that had risked so much to help so many, would do this to himself, and would think
that this was what he wanted from him.


But Gohan was right about one thing.


The feelings were there.


Gohan was an artist at this point -- an artist at sex. Gohan, no matter what he ever put his mind to, put himself
wholeheartedly in the endeavor, from his studies to his training and now, as a sex industry toy, he was a master at
all things that had to do with sex and pleasuring others. Upon meeting someone, he knew within seconds if they wanted
him. And he knew the moment his eyes connected with Trunks on the street, even if Trunks was not ready to admit it to
himself. Trunks wanted him, and when they were together for the first time, Gohan knew it would be explosive. He didn't
want to have to wait, knowing this. And he would not let Trunks have a day go by without being reminded that he was out
there, waiting for him.


Trunks popped a couple of aspirin, his eyes hurting from the computer screen. He cleaned his glasses, hoping that would
help. He couldn't look at his spreadsheet, anymore, though, so he decided to look up a couple of things on the internet.
As he checked his personal email, and other things, he remembered the business card that Gohan had handed him.


He pulled out the card and stared at it. He then wrote the web address in the address space and pressed "go."


The page opened quickly. He found himself staring at yet another black and white photo of Gohan, again, completely nude,
standing, his legs spread wide, one hand rubbing at his muscular and glistening chest. The other hand dipped towards his
pubic hair suggestively. His eyes were closed.


Trunks clicked the "enter" link on the side. Another photo of Gohan confronted him, this one not a professional photo at
all, but something snapped at some club. He was dressed in black leather pants, black gloves, and black leather straps
tightly clasped all over his bare torso. He wore a black mask that just covered his eyes, and the bridge of his nose.
One leg was stretched up high against a pole, one hand holding onto the same pole farther down it, while his upper body
and head arched back, his other hand running up his throat and chin. It was taken during one of his performances at a
strip club.


Trunks glanced at the side menu and saw there was a gallery listed, a bio and "services" as well as some video links.
He heard his own breathing increased and started to feel his head swim as his headache kicked to life again. He closed
the window entirely, knowing that he would be back on it to read the bio at some other point when he was up to it.
Annoyed, he saw that he now had a slew of pop-ups bombarding his desktop.


He closed them all then fired up his spyware program to deal with them. He looked at the clock. It was already after
5pm and he was getting tired and hungry. He decided that after the program was done cleaning out the crap on his
computer, he'd close down and go home.


The phone rang and he picked up.


"Trunks Briefs."


"Hello." The voice was husky, unmistakably Gohan.


Trunks cursed himself for his automatic intake of breath. "Hi, Gohan."


"Did you get the DVD?"


"Yes." Trunks didn't know what to say.


"Did you like it?"


"I didn't watch it."


He heard Gohan laugh on the line. "Liar."


Trunks, sounding defensive, "I'm not lying."


"Then why has your breathing increased? Or is it just that talking to me does things to you?"


Trunks didn't like how easily Gohan was managing to unravel him. "I don't know what you are talking about," he said lamely.


Gohan laughed again. "Fine. Play that game. Anyway, I called for a reason. What are you doing for dinner?"


Trunks felt his stomach lurch. He cursed himself again, for being so shaken just talking to Gohan.


When he didn't answer right away, Gohan, seductively asked, "Well?"


"I hadn't planned anything."


"Then come over to my place. I'll cook you dinner. I'm a real great cook."


Trunks almost looked at the phone in surprise. He couldn't help but realize the opportunity to really talk to Gohan
over dinner, but was nervous at the thought of going over to Gohan's place. Then he remembered something. "Hey,
I thought you were a terrible cook, from what I remembered."


Gohan laughed in exasperation. "I was 11!"


Trunks couldn't help but laugh at that. "Yeah, I guess so."


"Well, come on. I've got some penne, I'll start on some sauce now. I've got chicken. And some good wine. It will
be nice."


Trunks felt his face heating at the thought of wine over dinner. It sounded romantic. He was nervous as he said, "Ok.
Just for dinner. But nothing like you did the other night, ok?"


Gohan, knowing that that was exactly what he was intending on, and perhaps more, still didn't want to turn him away.
"All right, just dinner. It will be fun."


Trunks almost sighed with relief.


"Ok. Where is it?" Trunks grabbed his pen to jot down the address.