Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ What You Need ❯ Part Three ( Chapter 3 )

Genre: Angst/Romance

Rating: NC-17 for Gratuitous Sex and Language SM NON-CON

Warnings: Yaoi Gohan x Trunks -A present timeline Truhan. This is my first attempt at writing by myself, so excuse any mistakes, please.

Disclaimer- I don't own them. Just thought I'd take them out and let them play a bit in my world.

AN: Gohan is divorced from Videl and accepted a job at Capsule Corp. Has recently been made Vice-President of Research and Development now that Bulma has retired. Trunks and Gohan live in the Corporate High Rise. One floor away from each other, for only the reason of keeping them close to each other. Could happen....

What You Need

Part Three

(Trunks' POV)

Kami... my stomach hurts... I can taste the bile.

My whole body is shaking and I can't seem to stop it.

I don't want to watch but I can't make myself turn away.

"Cardiac paddles... please." The doctor holds out his hands and mom smoothly passes the paddle over a tray of a dozen different devices that all look the same to me.

The doctor sets and applies them.

Fuck...

Gohan convulses on the surgical table. It's a small movement, controlled and obviously required, but oh Kami... if I have to see it one more time I think I'm going to go insane.

"I've administered the adrenaline, Doctor," mom says calmly.

"Good. How are his vitals looking?"

"Weak," she tells him. "But steady for now."

"Excellent. I need you assisting me for the moment. There's a great deal of blood in here." I hear the doctor mutter as he works. "Bulma, can you apply suction here, please..? just left of the... ah, excellent... I need to repair the tearing in this section of the meningeal artery before we can attempt to deal with any of the other damage."

I feel a warm hand clasp my shoulder, and I jump slightly, looking into Goten's worried eyes. "Trunks?"

"I'm okay, Goten." I nod at the glass window to the operating room. "Gohan's the one in real trouble."

Goten follows my gaze, winces and looks away. "Oh, man," he mumbles thickly. "That's a hard thing to see."

"No kidding." I swallow hard, still unable to tear my eyes away.

"We get so used to a sensu bean healing everything," Goten continues softly. "No blood, no... invasion. It's kind of a shock to see this."

I laugh softly, but there's not a lot of fucking humor in it. In fact it sounds kind of hysterical. "Well, the Doc seemed to think that seeing as how Gohan's skull was already open, he might as well do it this way."

Goten pulls in a deep breath. "Well we'll just get him one when he wakes up enough to swallow it. He'll be better in no time." He grabs my arm. "Your hands look pretty bad."

I nod. I know. They hurt like a bitch, but its just flash burns. I got them when the laser exploded. The same laser that shot a two-inch piece of metal right into Gohan's head.

Bet you he regrets standing at my shoulder now. The hysteria bubbles up into my throat and I clench my teeth to keep it from bursting out.

"I'm fine to wait. Mom'll get to me when she can." I look at the charred skin on my hands. "It's not that serious. Mom checked me while the Doc was prepping for Gohan's surgery."

"You two were the only injuries?"

"In the lab, anyway." I look at him for a second. "Do you know about the rest of the building?"

"Aside from Vegeta's temper, no casualties at all."

"It was a unlucky break, Goten." I mutter flatly. "We were almost through."

"Who's in the lab now?"

"Gerald. He's capable." He sure is. At least he is now that all that's left of the laser is scraps. More than a year's worth of important research now fit only for the waste bin.

We stand there and wait, what seems like an eternity, while mom and the doctor work to fix the damage caused by the laser exploding.

I don't even realize I'm holding my breath until Goten grabs my shoulder and I inhale the stale recycled air, trying to recover it.

"It looks like their almost done." I hear his sigh of relief.

"Are you nearly ready to close, Doctor?" Mom is asking as she checks Gohan's vitals again.

"Yes, Bulma, I am. The damage to the artery is successfully repaired." The doctor sets his tools down.

"His heart rate is weakening again, Doctor." She starts prepping another needle.

"Shock from the blood loss," the doctor replies as he takes it.

I can feel my own heart slamming in my chest. Blood loss? No fucking kidding. Kami, when I turned around after the laser exploded and... oh shit, he looked like he was floating in it. He was just lying there, one side of his body twitching uncontrollably while his own blood spread in a pool around his head and shoulders.

I don't know what kept me from screaming. Maybe I did scream. I don't remember.

Mom had us both transported to the medical wing. That was over an hour ago.

Mom and the Doc have been struggling to keep him alive.

I've never been so scared.

I'm... shit... I don't know what I feel right now.

About him.

About losing him.

Up until today, I thought I had it worked out in my head. I wanted him. Shit of course I fucking wanted him. What he did for me. To me.

But that was all.

At least that's what I've been telling myself. And up till now, I've been able to believe it.

He could have died.

Just like that.

Off'ed by a freaking lab accident.

I guess I think that since we're Saiyan, we're impervious to accidents. Then something like this happens. The strongest man in this universe is almost killed by a small piece of metal. Ironic. I can feel the laughter trying to break out again. I am going insane.

He could have died.

And I'd never get the chance to say...

What, exactly?

That I wished it hadn't happened like that between us? That I wish that it had happened sooner? That I wish I'd never done it?

That I wished it could be more?

It's like... I've only got this one tiny part of what makes the whole man. I know the anger. I know his strength and the lust that matches it.

But I don't have anything else.

I see him sometimes. On the lab, in the dining hall. Talking with the staff. Sharing a joke, laughing with them.

The other day I was getting a meal with Goten, and Gohan was there in the dining room, talking with his lab assistants about something. Anything. As he left to go back to his own table, he clapped one of them on the shoulder and grinned at him. There was warmth in that smile. Real affection.

Shit, for an instant I was so fucking jealous of that. Of the fact that the people he works with get more warmth from him than the man he's fucking.

I told myself that I was just being stupid about it. After all, I never said I wanted his affection. I only ever told him that I wanted his dick.

I got what I asked for. Didn't I?

Only...

He could have died.

"Trunks..? Trunks?"

Goten's voice cuts through the buzzing in my head and I blink and turn to him. "Huh? Oh, sorry 'Ten. I phased out there for a second."

Goten smiles kindly. "Hey no problem. You've had a big day." He nods towards the hospital bed in the main room. "Bulma wants you."

"Oh, right." I glance once more at Gohan, watching the Doc doing his post-op scans, then I head over to mom and her sweet smile.

"Just sit up here for a moment, Trunks," she tells me gently. "We'll have you fixed up in no time."

"Bulma, how's Gohan?" Goten asked the question I desperately want to hear the answer to.

Mom hugs Goten as she replies, "He's going to be fine Goten."

"Thank Kami, Trunks, I've got to go get mom," he tells me. "I'll stop by your apartment later, okay?"

I nod at him, dredging up what I can only hope is a smile and he leaves quickly.

As mom carefully and painlessly bandages my hands, I look over her shoulder towards the operating room. "How is he? Really?"

She looks into my face, her eyes compassionate.

Aw fuck. She knows. Well of course she does. Mom understands me better than anyone. I clear my throat and look away. I don't want her to know just how fucked up her little boy is.

Please don't look to close, mom. Just... Kami... please don't.

She touches my shoulder briefly. "He's going to be fine, Trunks."

"How close was it? I mean really?" I don't know why I'm asking that question. I can't... I've got to know.

She frowns slightly. "Trunks..."

"Please mom. I need to know." I swallow again, my throat growing tight. "Please."

"It was a near thing, Trunks, I won't lie to you. But he got through it and he's going to be fine." She smiles again, reaching up to cup my cheek gently. "He's very strong."

"Yeah," I whisper and hold out my hands again. "Yeah, he is."

******************

(Gohan's POV)

"It's good to see you back at work, Gohan," Bulma smiles at me from across the conference table. Various nods and little noises of confirmation second her statement.

I nod, smiling slightly, thanking that miracle called sensu beans. " It's good to be back, Bulma."

And it is. From what I understand, I had a very close call.

According to the doctor, the sliver of laser shrapnel that injured the artery in my head caused surprisingly little damage elsewhere, and what damage it did cause was repairable.

In the doctor's own words, "You're a fortunate man, Mr. Son. If you absolutely had to have a piece of metal puncture your skull, you really couldn't have picked a better point of entry."

I can't really remember what happened. All I can recall is standing at Trunks' shoulder while he almost casually calibrated the laser for the last test.

"I'll say this for it," he had grinned cockily up at me. "It will make a powerful tool, Gohan, if we can get the beam to concentrate through the middle and narrow the penetration field a bit."

And the next thing I knew the world went black.

I woke up in a hospital bed three days later, with Bulma at my shoulder and a headache unlike anything I'd ever felt before drilling through my head.

"Easy, Gohan," she had said softly, administering a shot that almost immediately dulled the pain down to a dull roar. "You sustained head injuries but you are going to be fine."

"The staff?" I managed to croak out.

"Trunks was injured, but..."

"Injured?" I felt real fear lance through me. Powerful fear. "Is he..."

Bulma rested her tiny hand on my chest. "He's fine. He's just fine. He had some minor burns to his hands, that's all."

The sense of relief that flooded me was enormous. I know that our arrangement may not be the most affectionate, but I certainly did not want to think of him being harmed.

Now, as I look around the table at my colleagues, I find my eyes linger on Trunks' faultless face for a moment.

He looks a little subdued this morning. When his gaze catches mine I can't help but notice how he carefully schools his features into a more relaxed expression.

I sigh softly but with a certain acceptance. It's a clear signal. Whatever he is bothered by is, in his opinion, none of my concern. He has always made it very clear that although he might crave my attentions, he does not require my affection.

I spend some time considering that as Gerald Tachyo stands and moves to the wall console to deliver the current report on the state of the lab repairs.

I have to wonder who is the more tragic, Trunks or me?

As the briefing draws to a close, we rise and move off to begin our various tasks for the day.

I'll be spending most of day in my office, catching up with four days of work that built up while I was recovering.

Moving past the President's office, I cast another look at Trunks' graceful form as he flows down into his seat. I see his assistant lean across and say something in a low voice. It's obviously a joke of some sort, because a smile flits briefly across that perfect face.

I notice that it doesn't touch his eyes.

The more I think about him, the more tension flows into my body. Tension that is only increased when I reach my office and realize that the back load of reports is much larger than I thought it would be.

I cannot be angry with any one person for this. It is no one's doing. No one's fault. When you have an accident in the lab, the last thing on the priority list is a load of mundane reports.

I stifle a sigh, set my shoulders and prepare to ride the desk for a good twelve hours.

At least.

Kami... give me strength. There was a time not so long ago when I had actually forgotten how much office work was involved in a senior Capsule Corp position.

We didn't really write many reports when I was teaching at the college.

I take a few moments to breathe out the remnants of my annoyance, and get to work.

Now if I can just keep the image of Trunks' face out of my mind, everything will be fine.

It's not that easy.

I haven't been with him in some time. Well over two weeks, if my recollections are right. I know I would have already called him, had I not been injured like I was.

I feel it starting again. Low grade and infuriating. Anxiety in my stomach, angry heat rising in my groin. Always the same. A slow building of this basic need that will continue until I simply have to seek release.

When I was a child, I dealt with it on a childish level. Sparring with Piccolo or simply letting it out by doing something so incredibly foolish that my mother would gaze at the sky as if to ask Kami - "Where is the sense that this boy was born with?"

As I grew to be a man, the need within me changed, directing itself through my emotions and my sexual self. I am by nature an intensely introspective person. Always have been, to tell the truth. This was fortunate, as I used my proclivity for meditation and self-evaluation to curb my less acceptable tendencies.

I thought I had it under control.

I was unprepared for Trunks' effect on me, to say the very least.

But I can't just blame Trunks... I want this. I need him.

Sighing again, I shake my head and turn my attention back to my desk.

I know it is already a foregone conclusion.

I will be calling him to me tonight.

That thought alone will get me through the day.

***********

(Trunks' POV)

It feels wrong...

It's a strange feeling, this. Real strange. I don't know if I can describe it properly, seeing as I only really just worked it out myself, but I'll try.

My body feels good. Incredible.

I don't.

Make sense? I didn't think so.

Let's look at it logically, then. This... what I'm doing here, what we're doing here, is no different from any other time, okay?

I'm on my hands and knees, Kami... the usual 'drop and present' position. Gohan's behind me, his hands clamped around my hips like a fucking vice, and he's driving it home like he's trying to shove his dick out through the top of my head.

And it feels good. Great. Un-fucking-believable. My own rock solid cock is testament to that little fact.

Gohan's a very big boy, let's not be modest about it, and every time he slams that huge thick shaft up my ass it stretches me and fills me like nothing else ever could. He's banging the living fuck out of my prostate on every up-stroke, sending these searing stabs of pleasure rocketing through me and pushing me just that much closer to coming my brains out.

I can hear his low grunts behind me, steadily rising as his hips start pumping faster and, if you can believe it, harder. He's almost gone back there, and pretty soon he's going to give a ear ripping roar, fill my ass with his come and then reach around to squeeze my cock.

As soon as he touches me, it'll be all over. I'll go fucking wild, screaming like a banshee and coming hard enough to risk an aneurysm.

And then he'll leave.

Just walk away.

Like one of us always does.

He'll rest over my back for a little while, his breathing gradually slowing. Then, he'll pull out, clean me off, get dressed...

And get lost.

Which used to be fine. It used to be just fucking groovy.

Not anymore.

So my body feels good. It's reveling in this. Always did... shit, probably always will.

But my heart hurts. You didn't think I had one, did you? But I do and now...

Deep in my chest. It hurts.

I didn't know I could feel this way. I don't like it... but I can't help it.

I don't want him to leave anymore. I want him to stay.

He won't.

Just because he fucks me, doesn't mean he has to give a shit about the way I feel. It's my own fault. I told him that I didn't care about that.

But now I do.

It feels so wrong...

Kami, its' all fucked up. All of it. Everything. It wasn't supposed to be this way. This wasn't supposed to happen.

It was just supposed to be a little bit of fun. A challenge, a game...

Kami... I'm such a fuck up.

It hurts. Kami it hurts. I don't... don't think I can keep doing this anymore I... I don't think I can take it anymore.

It matters to me now. He matters. That wasn't suppose to happen. I wasn't supposed to do this. I wasn't supposed to care, but then I nearly lost him and I realized...

What? I'm not sure.

Only this feels wrong and I can't do it anymore...

I have to tell him. I have to. I mean sure, I know what'll happen when I do, but I figure that I can handle that. I'd rather have nothing at all that this weird fucking limbo, hopefully giving myself to someone who wants my ass and nothing more.

I want more than just this. I need more from him.

I have to tell him...

"Gohan..?" I gasp out, my head hanging, my own sweat running into my eyes.

"Gohan?"

"Don't talk, Trunks," he grunts back, slamming into me hard, getting ready to dance that last dance.

Figuratively speaking.

"Gohan." I say clearly, seriously, forcing the roughness and the pleasure out of my voice. "You're hurting me."

He stops.

He just... just fucking stops. Freezes back there, buried up to the hilt in my ass, fine tremors ripping through him.

I can hear his breathing, harsh and ragged. I feel his hands slip away from my hips, releasing that bruising grip.

I hear him speak. Too softly to understand.

And for some reason I can't move. I want to turn and face him. Get this out in the open.

Explain.

But I can't make myself move. So I wait.

Slowly, so carefully, he pulls out of me. He's... he's leaving me. He puts his hands on my shoulders, lifts me, guides me to the sofa and then crouches down and looks up into my face.

I guess he doesn't much like what he sees. I can't remember ever seeing anyone look that sorry. He sighs, his eyes closing for a moment as he hunkers down there at my feet.

"I'm sorry, Trunks," he tells me.

Sorry? No...

Don't be sorry - I want to tell him... don't take it all on your shoulders, Gohan. It was my fault. I pushed the envelope. I made you want me this way and now all of a sudden I'm changing the rules on you...

I want to tell him this, but I can't. My throat won't work. The words won't come out.

He shakes his head sadly, then gets dressed.

No... shit... He's leaving. I knew he would.

Fuck.

This isn't what I want. I don't want him to leave.

Please don't leave me.

I try to pull it together. Try do something, say something, anything to make him stay.

As he looks at me one last time, his face filled with a regret so deep I want to wail, I wonder what the hell is wrong with me. Why can't I just say something for Kami's sake?

That's when it hits me.

I'm too busy crying.

*********

(Gohan's POV)

"...You're hurting me."

I freeze. The shock, the sheer horror of his words running down my spine like ice.

You're hurting me.

In my own lust, my rage... In my overwhelming need to have this release from him I have harmed him. Damaged him.

It suddenly dawns on me exactly what I have done here. How far out of control this agreement we've entered into has gone.

I have more than just used him. I have subjugated and humiliated him. I have let him know through my words and my actions that I will fuck him, yes... but share a beer with him? Spend time with him? Treat him like a human being? No...

I look down at his smooth back. He's trembling under me, that beautiful lean form drenched in sweat, his limbs shaking from the effort of enduring my onslaught.

I can hear him. Now that the thunder in my head has died down, I can hear him.

He's crying.

You're hurting me.

Pain slashes through me and behind it, comes the shame.

It's as if I am really seeing him for the first time.

How long, I wonder? How long has he been hiding this? Has it been this way for him since the start? Was he simply too afraid to tell me?

Did I get it so wrong?

Probably.

"Oh Kami... what have I done?"

I withdraw from him slowly, carefully. I don't want to hurt him any more that I already have. As I gently turn him so that I can see his tear streaked face, my heart clenches.

I have brought him to this state. To this place.

He wanted me, yes. He wanted me to want him, to take him, hard and fast.

But not once did I ever hear him tell me to hurt him.

My only consolation is that I didn't mean to. I just... Oh Kami, I wanted him so badly. Once I knew what it was like to have him I... I wanted his affection, his willing favors. I was angry, frustrated that he didn't want the same and so I lost myself in these moments, these few brief moments, trying to convince myself that it would be enough.

I foolishly believed that if I could just get deep enough, just go hard enough, feel enough, that I could simply quench my immediate needs and ignore what I really wanted.

It's a mess, I think to myself as I look into his anguished face. It's a terrible irreconcilable mess.

And it's my fault.

"I'm sorry, Trunks," I tell him softly.

And I am. With everything that resides within me, I am. Because I wanted to be more than this to him and now... I never will be.

Those pained blue eyes widen. His mouth drops open, but no sound emerges.

He looks stunned.

I can't say that I blame him.

I consider saying more, but I quickly decide against it. What could I possibly say that would make this better?

I dress quickly, unable to suppress the feeling of self-loathing that rises in me.

Yes, I know he pushed me. He goaded me, he dared me...

He tempted me...

Kami... this is my fault, not his. I thought I was better than this.

At least I meant to be better than what I have become. I should have denied him, laughed in his face the very first moment he even suggested this impossible relationship. I should have kept ignoring him until he simply gave up, no matter how long it took.

I should never have let him get close enough to touch the dark need inside me.

I take one last look into his eyes, and the pain, the anguish I see there cuts me to the bone. He's trying to speak, but I... I don't want to hear it.

I'm afraid of what he'll say.

I don't need him to tell me to leave him alone.

I already know. But I don't think I can handle hearing it.

I simply turn and leave. Just walk away, back to the torture my life has become.

This thing between us, and the demon it grew into, is over. Killed. Slain by my arrogance and my selfishness. Destroyed by my own weakness.

You're hurting me.

I exit his quarters and head to the elevator and as I do, I feel a grim certainty descend upon me.

I am sorry, Trunks. I will never demand this of you again.

I promise.