Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ The Story Of You And Me ❯ Part Five ( Chapter 10 )

I've been sitting here on this bench patiently waiting - too patiently - for almost forty-five minutes now. Forty-five long minutes of watching guest after guest pass by, looking down at me with the kind of pity you give a girl who's been stood up, but is just too naive to realize it. Or maybe too foolish? Still, I've been waiting here and trying not to look dejected about it and avoiding any sort of sympathy dished out my way. I've been hearing them whispering all night on their way inside the banquet hall, commenting about me sitting here alone near the entrance, clearly waiting for someone who isn't going to show. But I absolutely refuse to look like a broken bird about this. No guy - I don't care who he is or what he looks like - is going to break me tonight!

Especially one I don't even know!

As much as I tried everything I could do to talk them out of it, Goten and Trunks insisted on setting me up on date for this. A real live 'set-me-up-with-a-friend-trust-me-you'll-like-him' blind date. Do I come across as that hopeless that they couldn't even find someone who would be willing to meet me first? I'm not quite sure if the whole thing is a compliment or a giant blow to the ego. I was actually a little flattered at first that they cared, but now I'm starting to wish that I had just told the limo driver to keep going once we got here, despite splurging my entire first paycheck on the dress I'm wearing, and spending hours in front of the mirror preparing for what was supposed to be my 'first ever official date'.

More than anything, I wanted tonight to be perfect, to walk in on the arm of this handsome friend of theirs, making every other secretary and intern from Capsule Corporation green with envy. To be the Princess of the Ball like I've read about in so many of my romance novels, even if it was just for one night. Maybe even hear them talking about it at the water cooler on Monday morning and gossiping about how lucky I was. Well, maybe I am that hopeless. Or should I say unrealistic?

At least I can be thankful that Goten and Trunks aren't here to see this. The last thing I need is for them to feel sorry for their 'Poor Little Marron' again, and try to make me feel better by smothering me like they did when I first moved in with them. Granted, that was almost two weeks ago, and they have been keeping their distance in that respect, but I don't want them here trying to play the role of savior for me just because their so-called friend has stood me up. I don't care what they've told me about this guy - I already don't like him, if not for the sheer fact that he's left me stranded here without a date in front of all these people, and completely alone at the first Capsule Corporation Shareholders Banquet I've been invited to. He's probably a jerk anyway.

Unfortunately though, the only real options I have left now are to either sit dateless at Bulma's table and hear it from my mom all night about how I should be out flirting with the rich, corporate executives instead of just sitting around waiting for someone to marry me already - like she wants me to only be interested in someone's bottom line, not the kind of person they are. Or call the guys to come pick me up and look like the world's biggest loser for scaring away a guy who's never even met me. I don't know which is worse.

I want to disappear.

I glance down at my watch. It's been almost an hour, and the line of cars that have been pulling up all night have just about stopped, leaving me here in the wake of everyone else's night out. Slowly, my eyes drift over the willowy trees and flower gardens that surround this place at the foot of the stairs. At least it's a change of scenery from being in the apartment all night, watching Goten and Trunks behave with each other in a way that only makes me stare in fascination.

Twinkling lights in the trees. A small reflecting pool among a forest of rose bushes. A gorgeous man sitting alone at the edge of it.

Whaa-...

Just how long has that guy been sitting there? Oh Dende, please tell me he hasn't been watching me this whole time!

I squint my eyes to get a better look, but the dusky lighting doesn't help. I can barely make him out. Lights glittering from the surface of the water reflect off his angular features as he takes long, lazy drags of his cigarette, studying me with half-lidded eyes like I'm the most fascinating thing here. Looking at me as if he has something to say, but has no intention of coming over to me to say it. A tiny smile curls at the corner of his mouth as he exhales the smoke without breath, remaining bent over with is elbows on his knees. Waiting for me.

I clutch my purse tightly in my hand. All of the nerve that I've wanted to dish out all night from being stood up has suddenly vanished from my body, taking every last bit of air in my lungs with it. I'm frozen.

With one last hit, he flicks the cigarette off to the side, running his hand through hair that is the most unusual blend of pale violet and black I've ever seen. He straightens his suit jacket and rises to his feet, giving me the first full look of him without being shadowed by the trees above him, and his presence in the dimmed lighting is incredible nonetheless. Tall, muscular build, sullen, but powerful good looks. An undeniable sex appeal radiates from every inch of his body.

He walks straight for me, not tearing his eyes off of me for a second. I'm breathless before he even reaches me.

"You know, you're even more beautiful than they told me you were," he gives a coy smile before biting his bottom lip lightly, casually pulling the sides of his jacket to the side to put his hands in his pockets. No tie, top button open, hair spiked and undone, but sexy like I've never seen on anyone else before. Dark, endless eyes make me forget where I am as his voice still echoes in my head. The tiniest shrug of his shoulders is the only indication that he's actually human.

"I... um, well..." I can't speak a word, although I know it's probably making me look like a dumb blonde. I'm a deer in headlights.

"You are Marron, right?" he asks gently. "I just that can't imagine anyone as beautiful as you being anyone else."

Everything melts. If this is flirting, he's already won me over. I'm half gone.

If I was mad a moment ago at this guy, I really can't remember why. And quite frankly, I don't care. Here is the most beautiful man I've ever seen, talking to me of all people, and telling me that he thinks that I'm beautiful. Me. Marron. The same girl who - up until now - only read of such things in books and movies, and figured that they never actually happened in real life. This doesn't happen to normal people. Guys like this just don't appear out of nowhere.

"You... y-you're my date? How long were you sitting there?" I manage to stumble out clumsily. In no way did I expect Goten and Trunks' friend to be quite this handsome, and it's completely throwing me off.

"Long enough to work up the nerve to talk to you. It's just that... you see, I've never exactly been on a date like this before," he tells me shyly, as unbelievable as it sounds. Yet, I know he's telling me the truth - his honesty is unmistakable. He offers me his arm like a true gentleman, and it takes a second before I'm even able to respond to it, cautiously taking it as if I were to actually touch him, he would turn to smoke like a dream.

I finally manage to form a coherent sentence. "I-I don't know your name."

He laughs lightly under his breath, giving me a glimpse of the charm that's sure to be the end of me. "I guess they call me Gotenks around here, but you can call me anything you want."

I almost didn't have to ask. I feel like I've known him forever.

As he walks me into the same building that I thought just minutes ago I would be walking into alone, all female eyes immediately lock onto our presence the second we walk through the door. Stunned, dreamy eyes for him. Cold, jealous eyes for me.

I'm on cloud nine.

"I suppose we should try to find our table. Do you know where..." he fades off, looking intensely at me with those dark eyes that continue to suck my will power dry despite all of the women who would just love to pull him away. He pauses before coming back to his thoughts, "...I'm sorry. It's hard to concentrate when you make time stand still like this."

The urge to touch him is overpowering. I can barely conjure up a response through the smile that's splitting my face from ear to ear, and coloring my cheeks hot pink I'm sure. I want to act as elegant and sophisticated as I can about what this is all doing to me, but I feel I must look like I'm about to bubble over with excitement. I apologize for giddiness with a tiny nod - about all I can manage before I lead him to my table located near the front of the room. I just can't wait to see what Bulma will say when she sees us!

"Marron!"

I turn around to find the voice for my attention.

"Sweetheart, is that you?" he calls out from the mix of people, trying to squeeze through everyone more than twice his size. My father's a small guy when I see him around so many other people, but I forget that most of the time - I've learned from an early age not to judge people from size. "Your mother and I have been loo-..." He stops cold in his tracks the minute he lays eyes on us; a fatherly-talk to my date is no doubt on its way. Please don't embarrass me now, Dad.

For a second, I feel a little awkward that I've bumped into my father like this. After all, my dad has ever seen me out on a date before, and I'm really not too sure how he'll react seeing me with a guy - especially someone like Gotenks, who does not look like the sweet boy-next-door type. Not in the slightest. In fact, Gotenks looks more like the kind of guy you would threaten to not come anywhere near your daughter, much less escort her around. I hold my breath for a typical reaction, but he's speechless.

I need to break the silence. "Dad, I want you to meet my date. This is Gotenks..." I stop the introductions once I realize that Gotenks is just as frozen from seeing my dad. Almost nervous.

My father responds flatly through clenched teeth as he stiffens his shoulders, "I know who this is, Marron. We don't need introductions," he adds sarcastically, before scowling at my date. "I think we've met before."

"Oh, I... didn't realize..." Is this a good thing?

"...And I can hope he's going to treat my daughter with respect and honor for the next half hour. Am I right?" he questions him directly, all though it now sounds more like telling. It's not too often I see my dad sound so threatening, but I suppose I should expect as much for this little 'daddy's girl' milestone moment. He's handling it better than I thought.

A silent agreement is exchanged between them, but I can't help wonder where they know each other from, or why on Earth my dad thinks I'm only going to be here for half an hour. It kinda makes me wish Bulma didn't have to go and invite my parents here tonight, since I just know they're going to play the role of chaperone and spy on us relentlessly now. They probably would have anyway - they can be so nosey when it comes to my business, just like when I lived at home.

I somehow manage to pull Gotenks away from my father's veiled threats, and decide that a table as far away from everyone as we can get will no doubt be the best option at this point. Anything out of sight, though I'm sure anywhere we sit is going to generate looks - no one has taken their eyes off of us since we've walked in. Not that I blame them - I'm with the hottest guy in the room.

"You know," he tells me. "If at all possible, we should probably try to avoid Bulma while we're at it. I don't think it would be a good idea if she saw us here together either."

"Okay, hold on a minute." I stop him from going any further. I want answers. "How does everyone know you? Do you work at Capsule Corporation or something? And how do you know my dad?" I try not to sound intrusive, but I'm starting to worry.

He quickly sits me down at an empty table in the corner and remains low, scanning the room for any sign of my boss in the crowd. "Actually, I'm pretty sure nobody here knows who I am, except maybe your parents and Bulma..." he lowers his voice secretly. "I met them back when I was a kid, but that's about it. Same with Goten and Trunks." He turns his focus back to me once the area's been determined safe.

"You haven't seen Goten or Trunks since you were kids?! I... I thought you guys were good friends?"

"We are. But it's... just been awhile." He edges his chair in closer to me, smoothly switching the subject to something less interrogating. He envelops my hands within his larger ones, studying them for a moment and then turning his face up to mine, his eyes suddenly shy. "But enough about me and those guys. I want to hear about you." He changes his tone. "I want to know everything." His genuine interest about me seems so familiar, but I don't hesitate to question my instincts or return the honesty - it's not too often people are interested in me like this, especially a man like Gotenks.

I tell him all about the island and my parents. About how I've been around martial arts my whole life, but have somehow managed to avoid being trained by either my dad or Master Roshi - I doubt my mom cares either way. We share stories about the Briefs, and Goten and Trunks, even lending me some mildly embarrassing stories about them to make me laugh. It's not long before we feel comfortable enough to get into a more personal side, all though I knew my end would be pretty bare in comparison - I haven't been around too many guys my age in the past couple of years, so dating has been just about impossible. But I would have never expected his side to be so similar. How could someone like this never have had a girlfriend? Or even gone out on a date before? It's almost like he just appeared in this city out of thin air. I guess we have more in common than I initially realized.

The more we talk, the more I see that there's a whole side to him beyond the chiseled good looks and raw sex appeal that becomes nearly overpowering at times, showing me glimpses of a polite - almost boyish - personality peeking through. He's charming, yet so open towards me, that everything about us seems to fit more and more like a lost piece to a puzzle that has been longing to find its match. At times, he's relatively timid and shy around me, like I really am the first girl he's ever talked to, but then he can be lethally seductive and bold the next, bringing out a chemistry between us that I couldn't ever explain to someone who has never experienced it. The synch between us is more than obvious.

A soft, jazzy piano starts to play under our conversation. I don't think I would have even noticed it if he didn't bring it to my attention.

"Wait..." He listens closely. "I love music like this."

I smile in agreement. Even his taste in music compliments my own.

"Will you dance with me?"

How could I refuse?

He takes my hand and leads me to the dance floor, all though I'm pretty sure my feet never actually touched the ground. The crowds instantly part for us as we pass through to an open corner of the floor, but I feel like we're only ones left in the room.

His arm wraps around my waist pulling me close, holding my hand with the other - showing none of the formality of first contact that I've always expected from someone, or even from myself. The very scent of his cologne is driving my senses wild. From the corner of my eye, I can see my mother holding back my father as we dance together, arguing about something, but I couldn't care less. This is the best night of my life.

"I don't want this to have to end, Marron," he says softly.

He draws me even closer. I can feel his breath on my cheek. His eyes drift close as he lowers his face to mine, holding just inches from my lips without touching. A perfect gentleman to the end.

"I never expected it to be... like this." His words ache in my heart. He's a dream come true. My dream.

The more I lose myself in his presence, the more I'm starting to realize that Gotenks isn't the sort of man you pass on the street and merely think that he's just attractive or handsome. Or the sort of guy you see modeling underwear in all those magazines with the body of a god, or the romantic hero that the heroine falls in love with by the end of chapter one. He's not even like that unrealistic fantasy that women daydream about, wishing he would someday come into their lives and sweep them off their feet with a personality that couldn't possibly exist in such a beautiful man. I know now that he's so more than all that.

He's perfect.

"Gotenks..."

He barely opens his eyes to look into mine. Those piercing dark eyes. Could he possibly be in a haze as much as me?

I want to tell him how lucky I feel. How he's holding my heart in his bare hands, and how for the first time in my life, I feel more vulnerable and scared than I ever have before, and that I don't ever want this feeling to go away. But more than anything, I want to tell him how much I want him to kiss me and tell me he feels the same way. I want him to tell me this is real, not a dream I'm going to wake up from.

I open myself to him and allow him to read the longing desire and need in my eyes. "Gotenks..." He knows I'm not asking for his attention now.

The grasp on my hand tightens.

His lips part slightly.

Our eyes slip closed. Oh Dende, please let this be real.

"What do you think you're doing, young man?!?!"

Reality snaps back.

"Don't you dare! Do you hear me?"

I spin my head around to see Bulma heading right for us. That same look of crazy in her eyes that only she can dish out, though the only time I've seen it before, it was directed towards her husband.

Gotenks grabs my arm and pulls me off the floor before I'm even able to explain. "Quick! We gotta get out of here!"

I grab my purse off the table and we run out the door, losing her in the sea of people between the dance floor and the tables and leaving before she could say a word in edgewise, although I can hear her barking out her disgust for 'pulling such a stunt'. For whatever reason, I guess it was pretty important that Bulma didn't see us together, and now I'm starting to wonder if this is going to affect my job come Monday morning.

He continues to lead me running through the front entrance towards the parking lot, and it's not until we're inside one of the company cars and being driven off that I manage to catch my breath enough to ask. "I don't understand... why do we have to hide like this? Who are you?"

He flops back into the seat after telling the driver where to take us, apparently relieved that we got away without having to deal with the blue haired fury that is waiting for us back there. He sinks into the seat, laughing to himself at the question. "It's a long story. Forget all about it." He swivels his head over to face me. Black eyes meet mine. "I don't want this to ruin our night. We can go wherever you want."

I don't hesitate to make the offer. "How about my place." I can't believe the words even come out of my mouth, a lifetime of morals and dignity that have been instilled in me gone right down the drain. Screw it - I've been hoping and waiting for nineteen years to meet someone like this and I'm not about to let him slip away.

As soon as we reach the floor to Trunks and Goten's place, I think twice about what will happen if they're actually home to see us here. This could potentially be disastrous even though they promised me they were going to be out by this hour. But as much as I want to be my own voice of reason and awaken my convoluted conscience, I'm beaten to it.

He stops me from sliding the elevator door that will open up to the apartment. "Marron..." His hand clenches to a fist. "I think... I should say goodnight," he whispers to me, painfully holding back the truth as he focuses on my lips, "...even as much as I really don't want to."

"You don't have to." I want you to come inside.

He touches my face with the back of his hand, speaking to me with something that sounds almost like regret. "I... I didn't plan on tonight going like it did. But the situation has changed. I can't do this..."

My expression must look as confused as I feel. How did everything change so quickly?

"I feel..." He searches for how to say it, "like there's this part of me that's never bothered to open up to anyone like this before - like I've never allowed myself to get this... way... with anyone." He smoothes his hand against my cheek and I lean into it. "And then there's this other part that wants so desperately to just let everything go and let it happen." He looks away as he clenches the muscles in his jaw, breaking the touch despite my silent protest. "I can't do this to you now, Marron. You deserve so much better than me. I'll just hurt you."

"No you won't." I don't want to plead, but I don't want him to leave.

But before another fleeting thought of rational behavior stops me from listening to what my heart truly wants, I take his face in my hands and kiss him fully on his lips. Soft and tender, pressing my body to his as I inhale the warm sent of his skin. Tasting him on my tongue as I'm flooded with the sudden desire to deepen the kiss further, to sink against him and lose myself to the feel of his mouth upon mine. My hands are unsteady as they slide forward to gently frame the face that has filled my dreams for a lifetime and held me enthralled as no one else ever has or I thought ever would. I can feel his hard, sculpted body under his clothes as he draws me into his arms, and I continue to drift my hands down to snake around his neck, holding on for dear life.

Overpowered with lust, he runs his hand up through the back of my hair, apparently having already forgotten about everything he just said a second ago and giving in to what we both want more than anything. I can feel his desire getting the best of him, causing delicious chills to run through me in response. I involuntarily moan out loud, gripping his shoulders harder, trying to keep myself from losing my hold on reality, but the line is quickly beginning to blur.

My heart is in my throat. I'm his completely.

He plunges his tongue between my lips to explore my mouth, coaxing my tongue to entwine with his with unparalleled skill that must be coming from somewhere. Another strangled groan escapes me, and his greedy mouth swallows my sigh of pleasure. I have never been kissed like this in my entire life and my resistance is starting to melt like a snowball thrown into the sun. Want and need are clawing at my belly like a trapped animal. I know I'm entirely out of my element here, but I don't want him to stop.

Without breaking the kiss, he slides the door open without looking and pulls me in with him. Nobody's home. There's nobody to be my voice of reason.

My arms pull him closer as I twist my fingers through the sides of his spiked purple hair where it blends into black, and I'm torn between the desire to continue forward to satisfy our needs, and the knowledge that to do so will surely be inviting trouble with my still fairly-new living situation. I just can't imagine Goten or Trunks being all right with this, but I'm beginning to care less and less the more I give in to his touch. It's this sudden compulsion that I cannot explain. I have yet to know the intimate touch of a man, but right now, I have an overwhelming impulse to throw away all my morals and stand bare under the hungry gaze of the man before me. I tremble as I feel warm waves of desire wash over me - I'm drowning in his kiss, and I can feel a twinge of fear in my chest for what will come next.

He closes the door behind us, breaking away from my lips just enough to read the want in my eyes. Once again, I wonder how I could hunger so much for what I had gone my entire adult life without. My need for him is growing, not lessening, like an addict's need for drugs.

"I don't want to hurt you, Marron," he whispers hotly on my neck, begging for my strength. His voice still holds that same overwhelming mixture of love, lust and possession that had been present from the moment we met. "We don't have to do this."

"I want to."

It was as if I had suddenly released the flood gates on years worth of pent up tension and frustration by saying those three little words, he gives in, crushing me up against the back of the door and pinning me against his body. Kisses become heavy with passion. A tentative touch sends electrical pulses skittering across my flesh. Our eyes lock, and instead of pulling back with the modesty I lost hours ago, I allow his hands to follow a path of his choosing. I've become a woman who craves the mastery of her body at the hands of another. I'm no longer nervous. I trust him with my heart.

Effortlessly lifting me off my feet, he carries me to the bed clear on the other side of the apartment. Trunks' bed. But at this point, it's the last thing on my mind. I'll change the sheets tomorrow.

The straps of my dress are slipped from my shoulders. Expensive black material is pooled at my feet. Here I am - standing in my panties like I wanted, but all I can feel are my cheeks burning from being exposed like I've never been to anyone before. My arms are straight and rigid at my sides, my fists clenched. I take in a deep, unsteady breaths to calm my nerves. I'm suddenly finding out what it's like to be self-conscious of your body under the studying eyes of a man.

So slowly, he takes off his jacket and begins to unbutton his dress shirt without breaking his gaze, but my hands quickly reach out to stop him.

He freezes abruptly, thinking I must be having second thoughts.

"No... Let me."

I take over from where he left off, undoing each button of his shirt to expose more of what I've been waiting to feel for so long, edging my hands under the collar and peeling it away. It takes monumental effort on my part to not yet give in to the urge to touch the tantalizing expanse of his smooth chest. To not reach out and trace the taut muscles that flexed from sensing the warmth of my breath only inches away.

Shirt on the floor. Belt buckle unclasped and fallen to his feet, along with the pants it still remains attached to.

I just about gasp at the near-naked body before me - Sculpted and chiseled as if it was carved from marble. Perfected from years of hard training, and yet desperate for the touch of a woman to finally appreciate the accomplishments of a lifetime of technique.

My hands trace the intricate tattoo-like markings running over his shoulders and down his arms. They're fascinating, yet I know I've seen something like them before. "Where did you get these?" I ask curiously.

He's not concerned with the question. His attention remains focused on my body, and he silences me with a single finger on my lips, stopping me from breaking the path of where we're about to go. "I've had them forever. They're not important now." Once again, I'm lifted from my feet and he carefully lays me down on Trunks' soft bed, supporting himself on his hands to hover above me. He breathes my name softly, as if it were something unbearably precious to him before reaching to cup my face between reassuring hands.

I tense instinctively, but a warm, apologetic smile plays on his lips, and the unease of my position begins to dissolve as his thumbs lightly stroke my cheeks, drawing me back in to this surreal world of passion he's created for us. My eyes drop to his lips, aching to taste them again.

With a knowing laugh, he obliges my unspoken request and leans in to capture my mouth. I sigh, willingly parting my lips under that sweet pressure, meeting his tongue without any need of coaxing on his part this time. As the kiss deepens, I let the anxiety of moments ago slip away and once again lose myself to his experienced ministrations.

Ever so tenderly, he lowers his body so that my breasts are pressed firmly against his long, muscular frame. The little fabric that's still left between our lower bodies could nearly burn away, and our faces are so close, I can see the different variations of black and midnight blue in his eyes. Gotenks looks so young to me, but I now know that it's just a kind illusion - his life must have been even more difficult than he has let on, and he's older than his years would lead one to believe.

Blazing eyes that burn with an inner fire.

Throbbing heat pressing against the juncture of my thighs, covered by the thin skin of my panties.

I whimper as warm hands cover my breasts, caressing them with callused palms. His mouth descends to lave them with his tongue and my back arches up as I softly murmur his name, awash in this new sensation. Something white-hot breaks within me and I give myself over to instinct, letting my hips rock rhythmically against him, but each movement brings me in more tortured contact with his hard length, and I whisper his name on a sigh.

The sound and feel of ripping fabric under his impatient hands.

Naked flesh sliding against naked flesh.

The possessive growls rumbling in the back of his throat.

Wet, moist heat meets his searching fingers, and he moans aloud against my breast as he feels the proof of my readiness. I gasp in shock when two fingers push inside me, instantly finding and repeatedly moving against a spot I had never known existed before that moment. Reflexively, my hips began to move in time with his finger thrusts, all the while his thumb continues to circle and stroke me as the delicious pressure within continues to build to an unbearable level. I'm losing all touch with reality.

Slowly, he withdraws his hand from between my legs, despite my silent pleas for more, and his eyes command my full attention. I watch in a daze as he lifts his hand to his lips and slowly licks the two fingers that he had just used to bring me to such incredible heights. Shock courses through me at the primal act, as my rather sheltered background has not prepared me for either the action itself or the surge of lust that I feel in response. I bite my lip softly, and my body reacts with another rush of wet heat between my legs. Only after removing the last taste of me from his fingers, does he bend to twirl his tongue around my ear and murmur one last thing.

"I need you so bad, Marron."

He roughly spreads my thighs apart, causing a last involuntary whimper to escape me and I dig my fingernails into the muscles of his back in anticipation of what's about to come next. With delicate ease, he gives every consideration to my untried body, save for an agonized groan of apology seconds before he pushes into me. His hot mouth swallows the cry of pain that this foreign feeling might have brought forth as he slowly eases himself fully inside me. He pulls away from the kiss and I don't dare so much as blink. My breath hitches harshly as he fills me completely, burying himself deep within my aching body.

I welcome the pain that sears through me before fading to a dull ache, and whimper as he forces my legs even further apart, straining unstretched muscles. His pace increases, each stroke now being accompanied by the same words echoing over and over in my head. I need you.

He tightens his grip on my hips.

The sound of his flesh pounding into mine is mingled with my soft cries and his low moans of pleasure.

I shut my eyes as the sweet pressure builds inside of me, almost sobbing at the exquisite sensations coursing through my body. He holds me to him as my body shudders repeatedly, riding out the intense ripples of pleasure, and I wrap my arms around his neck without conscious thought, biting my lip at the overwhelming feeling of completeness.

"You... feel so good," he groans, using the wall behind the headboard for leverage, plunging into me with wild abandon and sheathing himself deeper within my eager body with each powerful thrust. "Oh my god!"

This is right. This is real.

Nothing exists but the exquisite friction and heat created as he moves inside me. Pleasure mixed with an all-consuming need for release. My body shakes with the tension of being forced to balance between pain and ecstasy.

Before the last of the shuddering tremors that wrack my body have even begun to fade, he's crying out and increasing his pace. He angles himself to go deeper, all but bruising my thighs and churning my insides as he pounds into me furiously. Flesh meets flesh as he chases his own release. He leans over me, supporting himself on his arms, and drives himself even deeper, touching the mouth of my womb. My hips rise instinctively to meet his in a rhythm as old as the universe and I dig my nails into his taut biceps, holding on with unruly, twitching muscles. A harsh groan rumbles from his chest and he lets out a shuddering cry before calling my name over and over, and deep within my body, I feel his hot release spurt into my waiting warmth.

His mouth covers mine in a desperate kiss as he continues to pump into me, but once he is completely spent, he collapses on top of me, burying his face in the hollow of my neck.

Harsh pants sounding from our overtaxed lungs.

Bodies shaking and collapsed from exhaustion.

I stroke his trembling back as my hands glide over his glistening skin. Our bodies are glued together with our sweat and his essence, and he tenderly laps at the moisture beading on my chest and neck with his tongue. My entire body trembles from the quenching of our need, and our eyes meet and hold for what seems like an eternity. Within his blue-black depths, I can read the intensity of his love and his desire, and I know he can see the same in mine.

Until this moment, I never knew that love and lust were so intertwined.

The smell of sex hangs heavily around us.

The heady mixture of sweat, musk, and liquid heat serves as an incredibly arousing stimulant.

He's intoxicating.

I move nothing but my head on the pillow - now soaked with sweat at this point - to look on as he smokes his cigarette in long drags, flicking the ashes into the ashtray set on his abdomen and watching the orange glow burn down. I try not to look disapproving, although it is making him look dangerously sexy.

"I don't normally get to do this, you know," he defends with a tiny laugh before taking one last hit and putting it out. His focus turns inward, "I don't usually get to do much of anything."

I hesitate to ask one of the many questions I've had on my mind all night, not quite sure what to expect in response. "Why do you and the guys have the same tattoos?"

He swivels his head to face me, taking a deep breath. "Well, they're not exactly the same," he corrects. "And they're not really tattoos either. I got them in Otherworld, when I was a kid." His words seem flat, and it's not what I wanted to hear.

"You didn't answer my question."

He shifts uncomfortably on the mattress and clears his throat. Perhaps this is a bigger topic than I thought it was. "You don't remember too much about Majin Buu, do you?"

I don't reply. Just a tiny shake of my head for him to proceed with the explanation.

"There's this group of warriors in Otherworld called the Metamorise who invented a... technique that allows two people to join bodies in order to create a single, more powerful warrior. Goku met them, and out of desperation, taught Goten and Trunks how to do it in order to fight Majin Buu. They were kids, but it was the only hope to save the planet... at the time." His voice becomes sympathetic as he turns his body to face me. "When they died along with the destruction of the Earth, they met the Metamorise people in Otherworld and were each given a half of these markings as a symbol of their culture." He pauses hesitantly before giving the real reason. "I've had them ever since."

My breath is suddenly becoming quick and sharp. I try not to sound upset, as I cling to the sheets. Desperate to hear a perfectly logical explanation for all of this. My voice is barely audible. "Tell me right now how you know Goten and Trunks."

He swallows thickly from the panic in my voice, nearly on the verge of crying or freaking out.

"Tell me now!"

And for the first time since I've laid eyes on Gotenks, I can see something so horrible that logic defies it. I'm dreading that my worst fear will come true from a question I already think I know the answer to. I don't want to know anymore. I want to take it all back. "I... I remember you now," I croak out, my vision already blurred. I feel sick.

I grab the sheets and hold them tightly to my chest, pushing back against the headboard to sit up, but he doesn't move, looking at me with saddened eyes that I know all too well I've seen before. Goten… As much as I really wish I didn't. Trunks… How could they do this to me?! "No. No, it's not true. This isn't true!" I plead. "Please tell me this isn't true."

"I never meant to hurt you, Mar-"

"I don't believe you! You're lying!" I scream. I'm in a nightmare, feeling my heart, my body, my world crumble into pieces. I can't breathe. And if I can't breathe, I can't be alive. "T-This... this isn't... possible."

He slowly pushes himself up and sits on the edge of the bed, no longer able to look me in the eye. "It wasn't supposed to be this way. I... we didn't mean to hurt you."

True, true... God it's all true... they betrayed me.

And without explaining any further, or trying to comfort me with words that would have been only lies at this point, he rises to his feet, letting the sheets drop away from his body. Just moments ago, I had thought I was looking at the man of my dreams. Now I know that I actually am.

I squeeze my eyes closed. Sobbing. Angry. Humiliated.

Broken.

I want to wake up.

I can barely catch my breath. My body's shot.

Too long. We were fused for way too long.

"Chibi, you okay?" I whisper in a hush under my labored breathing. I can't see too well, and I feel like every cell of my body is about to fall apart.

No response.

I wipe away the sweat from my eyes with the palm of my hand and open them enough to see Goten sitting hunched up on the floor, his knees pulled into his chest. His hands are clasped together, but shaking just as badly as I am, or maybe even worse? Way, way too long.

He nods - about all he can do, save the suppressed grunts of pain he gives as he shrugs into his shoulders. But there's crying. More like hysteria. Marron! Oh god...

Simultaneously, we both look up to her on the bed, curled up against the head board, scrambling to get away from us as tears stream down her face as hard sobs forcefully wrack through her slender body. Shaking her head in disbelief at the phenomenon of us splitting back into two right before her eyes, when she probably wanted nothing more than to be told it was all a lie. She's scared, but I can't say that I blame her. The damage is perhaps farther then we could have ever anticipated.

We try to comfort her, doing everything we can to explain why we did this, even though neither of us ever expected it to turn to such an extreme when we originally thought up the idea. We just wanted to make her feel special - to take care of her - but our own selfishness carried things entirely too far, and made everything into a mockery of our good intentions. Her trust has been violated, her heart, her body, everything, just for the thrill of a forbidden one-night stand.

We've fucked up in the worst possible way.

I crawl over to my incapacitated counterpart and help Goten get to his feet, cautiously taking a seat on the edge of the bed opposite of her. Not giving a shit that we're completely naked as we try to reason with her. But it's obvious that she wants nothing to do with us. "Marron, please listen to us..." we automatically say in sync, still feeling the strange effects of the fusion.

She screams back, glaring at us with bloodshot accusing eyes, her cheeks still stained with tears running down her red face. "Get away from me! Both of you! Don't touch me," she snaps, yanking her hand away from Goten's, which was trying to reach out to her. We can't let her take off like this, but how the fuck are we supposed to fix this if we can't calm her down enough to explain?

She holds the rest of the sheets wrapped tightly to her body as she just manages to escape our reach. We need to comfort her - justify what happened. But she runs towards the stairs, crying hysterically.

"Marron, wait!"

And she actually stops.

For a second, we're both surprised that she's letting us speak, but not for long. She slowly turns to face us, the aquamarine crystal of her irises revealing a crushed young woman. Bottom lip trembling as she holds back the tears long just enough to say one last thing to us. "I don't ever want to see you two again."

The room goes cold. I release the breath in my lungs sharply in defeat and watch as she runs up to the loft. Leaving both Goten and me speechless at what we've done. The sound of drawers flinging open. The rip of a zipper on her bag. She's leaving, but we don't dare make a move to stop her. We've lost all rights to voice opinions the minute we decided to fuse in the first place. We did this to her.

"Trunks," he quietly pleads, but I have absolutely no idea what to say. There's nothing we can say. Maybe this is for the best right now.

Within a few tense minutes, we catch sight of her running down the stairs with two duffle bags in her hands. No eye contact. No good bye.

The slam of the door echoes in the apartment well after she's left the building.

Neither of us says a word. We just sit in the uncomfortably thick silence, naked and sticky in the bed we just shared, and yet, the same one we took something that we never had a right to take in the first place.

I wish this never happened.