Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ The Story Of You And Me ❯ Part Three (continued) ( Chapter 6 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
THE STORY OF YOU AND ME
by djFusion

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~ PART THREE (continued) ~



I finally get to the front door of Capsule Corporation, having cleared my mind of the fiasco in my kitchen from earlier this afternoon. Since it's such a nice day, though, I decided to take the human way of getting here: I took the bus. I can't remember the last time I took public transportation, probably not since when I was a kid and my mom was still taking me and Gohan into Satan City for back-to-school shopping. Once my dad came back, he pretty much took over driving us into the city whenever we needed, so there's really been no need for it, but to be honest, I still would have rather taken the bus - my dad's a horrible driver.

Once I walk up to the front door, I do something else I haven't done in a while: I actually ring the doorbell. It only takes a second for one of the main double doors to crack open with a tiny face about waist high peeking through the slit. The aqua hair is a dead give away.

"GOTEN!" she squeals, throwing the door wide open and almost off its hinges. The girl has yet to learn about her strength verses everyday household objects. The minute she sees me, she lights up like a Christmas tree, just like every other time I've dropped by this house, and despite the chocolate ice cream cone in her hand dripping down her arm and onto the floor, she's nothing but a bundle of smiles.

"How's my favorite girl doin'? Break any hearts today?" I jokingly flirt with her as I tousle one of her pigtails - I know she loves it. She responds with nothing but a giggle and some hardcore blushing across her nose as she bashfully looks the the ground. "Bra, is your brother here?"

"He's upstairs packing. You know, I'm going to get his room when he leaves," she announces proudly.

"What about my room? Will that be your room, too?"

"No..." she slyly hints around, looking at me with her wide innocent eyes. "That will always be your room, Goten! You can sleep over whenever you want. It's fine with me." She tries to act so adult it's cute. Oh, if Trunks only knew what his little sister was growing up into. I laugh at the thought of him pounding every guy who comes within twenty feet of her once she gets to high school... if Vegeta doesn't get to them first.

I bend down and plant a big kiss on her cheek and take a giant lick of her melting ice cream cone before it looses another drip, freezing her rock solid in place. "Just promise me you'll always be my girl. Okay? No matter who sweeps you off your feet someday. Promise?"

Before I can even straighten up, she immediately latches onto my neck, squeezing the life out of me for a second, and takes off squealing into the house. I can already hear her yelling for her mother, going on about how me and her are going to get married someday. I can't help but smile.

"You here to help, or just hit on my little sister?" he cracks from the top of the stairs, boxes stacked high in his arms which are no doubt filled with more junk from his room to be moved to his new place. Without much of a warning, he chucks the boxes in my direction. Luckily, I catch them with little effort, all though they're heavier than I expected. What is he packing anyway? Rocks?

"I have to please my fans, Trunks. If I had a little sister, she'd be gushing all over you, too. Besides, isn't my niece still the official President of the 'Trunks Briefs Fan Club'."

He just shakes his head at my corny humor, and heads back up stairs for another load.

After whatever we're bringing over today, we should have all of it moved out, but knowing Trunks, he's probably going to take everything with him that's not nailed down. I set the boxes on the floor near the front door, and follow him back up the stairs to his room to hopefully begin the last day of this back-and-forth-across-town stuff. I don't mind helping him out or anything - I'm just excited to finally spend our first night at the new place, and officially have somewhere to be ourselves.


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Two car loads and four pizzas later, me and Goten finally call it a day. It's official: I am now out on my own!

My raven haired counterpart flops down into the thick cushions of my new couch, propping his feet up on the coffee table like he owns the place. "Oh man, Trunks! I really wish I lived here," he sighs, looking over the spacious room now that it's beginning to look like an apartment instead of an empty studio. I know it looks different just by the fact that I'm able to call it my own.

"You do live here, you dork. That's why I got this place."

He laughs sarcastically at my smart ass remark. "But I can't really stay here all the time - my mom will shoot me! I mean, I want to stay here, but..."

"I know."

I wish Goten could live here with me. It would be perfect - parties, chicks, anything we want, any time we want it. Just the thought alone of never getting caught doing something we're not supposed to makes me start to hate the year difference in our ages again. If only he wasn't still in school... everything would be different. But come Monday morning, I know I'm not going to want him to leave.

"Well, why don't I stroll over to our kitchen to get some beers out of our refrigerator, and you and me can enjoy tonight together in our new place - Just us. Sound good?" I ask as I crack a smile at my blatant display of including him in every way possible to make him feel at home, despite the fact he won't be getting his mail here anytime soon. Goten's the reason I moved out in the first place, if you think about it, so I want everything here to be ours, not just mine.

"Right on!" Without having to convince him any further, he reaches over the side of the couch and plugs in the stereo, turning it up to levels we would surely get screamed at for if we were back at home. "This is going to make it hard to go back, you know."

I know.

I'm really starting to wish he didn't have to. As I scan around the room on my way to the kitchen, I realize that the amount of stuff I've still got in boxes scattered everywhere will probably take me a year - if not more - to unpack. I didn't even bring everything, which makes it more obvious that I have entirely too much shit in the first place. But of all the boxes piled almost to the ceiling, one small brown one off to the side catches my attention the most, standing apart from all the others. Clearly the most important one here, at least to me.

It's marked "Goten's things".

I hope someday, there will be more of those kind of boxes to unpack instead of just the one.

"You gettin' me a beer, Trunks. Or are you just going to stare at the boxes all night?" he laughs, snapping me out of the little sentimental moment I've created for myself. He must think I'm such a idiot sometimes.

"Yeah yeah. Hang on..." I call back, swinging open the huge stainless steel doors of the oversized refrigerator I bought yesterday to match the rest of the appliances in the kitchen. Needless to say, there's nothing in it right now but a couple six-packs left over from last night, and I somehow think this will be the usual sight when I open this thing, seeing how neither me nor Goten know how to cook very well, or even go shopping for that matter. I think I just bought myself a very expensive beer cooler.

I grab two and throw one over to his direction. "Heads up!" I don't even have to look past the doors to know he caught it. The kid's got the quickest reflexes I've ever seen. He's also got the highest liquor tolerance I've ever seen. Since it took me all of five drinks to get me plastered last night, I have to reluctantly admit that I'm definitely the lightweight between us in that aspect, and judging by the empty can just thrown back in my direction, Goten is more than aware of it.

I'm in trouble.

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By no means would I ever take advantage of my best friend's lack of judgment when he's intoxicated. Really. I'm a nice guy. I look out for Trunks, though mostly so he doesn't wreck half the house or kill himself. But whenever alcohol becomes a factor between us, little else is.

Fact of the matter: Trunks is a pussy. At least when it comes to drinking. Granted we haven't had that much experience, especially since we're both under twenty-one, but the little card that I snatched from my brother's wallet that 'magically' turns me into Son Gohan when I'm in the liquor store certainly helps out our practice. As usual, Trunks can't even get past a six pack and he's already slurring his words and stumbling all over the apartment. But what I like most about his current state is his ability to not give a fuck. I know that's at least where I'm at right now.

"Tell you what..." he proposes to me, standing slightly crooked against the island in the middle of the kitchen. He smiles mischievously with half-lidded eyes at his master plan. "I'll go heat up the shower and... if you...you know... want to do anything..."

I still think it's amazing how comfortable we are about this, compared to the first time almost four years ago.

"You read my mind."

He tilts his head down to the side and laughs lazily under his breath as chunks of his pale lavender hair fall into his eyes, giving me a quick glimpse of that innocent little boy that's still inside him somewhere, even though it's normally lost under his grown up facade. I know he has to put on that act about being Mr. Big Corporate Guy at work, but I think I'm the only one that still gets to see the real Trunks anymore. Even if it's only when we're alone.

"You sure you're not too drunk there?" I crack, referencing his askewed attempt at vertical. "By the way you're using that counter as a crutch, I don't think you'll handle being on a wet surface next to a glass door very well."

"Nah. I'm fine. C'mon..." He motions for me to follow, shuffling towards the bathroom with drink still in hand.

I hang back a minute before joining him in, and instead start to pick up some of the empties and other garbage lying around on the coffee table and in the kitchen. I know he won't start without me, but... come to think of it, there's a good chance he might pass out. With that thought, I drop what I'm doing and quickly down the rest of my drink to catch up as best I can. The fuzzy hiss of the shower water being turned on is my cue to get moving.


The bathroom in this place is huge! Bigger than even the ones at Capsule Corporation, I think. As soon as I step in, I look down to the floor and can tell that Trunks must of had a hard time getting undressed by the ripped tee-shirt and jeans trailed up to the shower doors. This isn't the first time he's been in a hurry to get naked for something like this.

"You know Trunks, I would have helped you instead of having to tear your damn clothes off. Next time call me..."

"The water feels great." He doesn't care. I should know this by now.

"I'm sure it does," I pretend to agree, shaking my head at his total indifference to sacrificing another pair of underwear from his lack of patience. I strip down to nothing and throw my clothes in a pile by the corner before sliding the shower door open. Through the hot steam, I can already see him leaning up against the back of the glass with closed eyes, arms pressed down to the sides of the wall next to him, hot water pouring off his body in sheets. "You look like you're practicing to model for a calendar or something, you know that?" I laugh at him as I step in, flinching at the temperature before closing the door behind me.

"The water feels so great."

"So I've heard." I don't hesitate. "But I think I know what might feel better," I rasp in a deep voice, bracing the palm of my hand flat against tiles beside his head, wrapping the other tightly around his already growing erection. He doesn't even open his eyes, just eliciting a low groan from his throat that tells me he likes it. Of course, I knew he would - we've done this too many times for me not to.

I take my time and watch him closely, paying attention to every reaction to please him just like he wants, making him ache with pleasure. I revel in the fact that I can do this to him. I think I feel more powerful because of it - teasing him, making him anticipate my every action. Pulsing under my grip, desperate for me to give him more. I can't believe that this is what it's become over the years - this casual thing between us that only we can seem to justify in some twisted, fucked up way. I just can't imagine not being able to share this with him anymore, even though the slightest thought of it would have totally freaked me out a couple years ago.

He bites down hard on his bottom lip and pushes his hands firmly against the sides of the walls beside him, flexing his arms as he drops his head.

He's trying to hold back.

"Don't fight it, Trunks," I whisper in next to his ear, quickly losing any inhibitions I have about what we're doing. "Come for me."

...Did I say that out loud?

As odd as it may sound, we usually don't have much extra physical contact when we do this with each other. The fact that Trunks is drunk is probably the only reason we are now. But I really don't care to be honest - it's making it more intense than I ever imagined it could. He leans forward slightly to rest his forehead against my shoulder, and the low moan that's rumbling from his chest now vibrates through mine. My own aching need carelessly brushes up against his leg, but I wonder if he even notices? Before I can think of an appropriate reaction to it, he suddenly grabs a hold of me, mimicking my actions almost exactly as he slides his hand over and over until I'm near painfully aroused under his touch.

I'm rapidly forgetting where I am, simultaneously stroking one another until I choke out a cry under my breath.

"Why don't you come for me," he breathes heavy on my neck, deeply inhaling the sent of my wet skin as he grabs onto the back of my shoulder tightly. His fingers dig into the muscle, almost desperately holding on. At this point, I don't know if he's drunk or crazy or what! Frankly, I don't care. I don't want him to let go.

I wrap my arm around him and run my hand up through the short hair at the nape of his neck - pressing the side of my face to his soaking wet hair and losing myself completely in the sensation of doing this together - a far stretch from the first time we did this! There was hardly any contact at all back then, but now... now we're so close, our hands are hitting as we pick up the pace, speeding up for our release, grabbing onto each other with more force than I realize. But just like every other aspect about us, he and I are in perfect sync and we both squeeze harder and pump faster until we finally reach our climax together for the first time. Easily the most incredible feeling I've ever experienced in all seventeen years of my life!

All too quickly we've finished, leaving us crushed against each other in the heavy rain of water from behind me. Trunks' body moving with mine as my chest rises and falls. Inhaling the moist steam around us and feeling his hot cum drip down my stomach, as I'm sure I've done to him, too. My breathing is ragged. His heart is pounding. And yet I've never been this close to him before... but if I never had to get out of this shower again, I wouldn't.

"Did I already mention that I fucking love this apartment?"

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