We Read Our Own Porn

Among the strange group gathered in the spacious Capsule Corp living room, conversation was mostly encouraged by the demi Saiyans, between awkward pauses. His head propped on his hand, Vegeta half listened as the other three discussed drawing techniques. “Have you guys been dabbling in the occult?” his bored voice wondered aloud. “Huh?” Trunks stared blankly at his father, and Goten grinned. 17 only looked confused, deciding against inquiring. The four of them looked up at a familiar noise outside, then the chime of the doorbell. Trunks dutifully stood to go open the door. “Hello, ChiChi,” he greeted, a surprised questioning evident in his voice. “Hi, Trunks,” ChiChi replied. “I brought the helicopter for its tune up today, like you asked,” she reminded him, seeing the other three. “Oh, I didn’t know you had a visit.” “It’s no problem,” Trunks said quickly, “It only takes a few minutes. Come in, sit down.” She took an overstuffed armchair near the couch. “Hello, 17,” she greeted in turn, “I haven’t seen you in years.” “Hello,” 17 replied, visibly uncomfortable, “I’ll just… give him a hand.” He scampered to the kitchen, glad to help with the complicated task of pouring a cup of tea. ChiChi glanced in the direction of the kitchen where the two had gone, then back at Goten and Vegeta. “I’m guessing you meant Number 17?” Both nodded. “All’s cool,” Goten told her, which only confused her more. She thought for a moment, then asked Vegeta, “Is that in your genes or something?” “I don’t know,” Vegeta replied, “Saiyans might be more ambidextrous than humans.” Goten stifled an unexpected burst of laughter, then whispered the corrected word. “Whatever,” Vegeta sighed impatiently, but looked oddly relieved by ChiChi’s presence. Accompanied by 17, Trunks appeared with a cup of tea for ChiChi. “Thanks,” she bade. Trunks smiled and nodded. “Is the motor making that noise again?” he inquired of the helicopter.  “No, it’s running much better,” ChiChi assured him. Looking up, she asked, “Do you train as well, 17?” “Nah, cyborgs don’t need to,” 17 reminded her. “Oh. I was thinking your hair must get in your face a lot,” ChiChi explained, “I could cut it for you, if you like.” 17 shot her a piercing glare. “No one cuts my hair,” he hissed fiercely. ChiChi blinked. “Okay, just an offer. Goten never let me cut his, either, beyond that,” she reflected. “Thank the gods,” Vegeta muttered drowsily. Goten yawned, obliviously curling up on his shoulder. They’d quickly became accustomed to napping at this hour. “Don’t be so shy, Goten,” Trunks drawled. “He’s like a little cat,” Vegeta commented, visibly wishing he could disappear. Apparently, the younger male didn’t consider that to be part of his ‘never in public’ warning. He’d just noticed that one of the actual cats had snuck on his other side with the same idea, asleep on half his lap. “There’s no harm,” ChiChi brushed off dryly, not exactly helping. “Yeah, just kidding,” Trunks added lightly. To ChiChi, he improvised, “I can take care of the tune-up now. A few minutes hooked up to the central computer will tell for sure.” “Actually, I also wanted to take a look at it,” Vegeta added, “Something still sounds odd.” He looked helplessly at Goten, who was already asleep. Hesitating at the concern in his father’s voice, Trunks agreed, “Okay. I’ll get the main scan done, and you can check it later, before she leaves.” Vegeta thought about it, and nodded. “I want to see that new computer,” ChiChi told them. “I can help,” 17 offered, “I fix my own engines all the time.” The second the three of them had left, Vegeta let himself drift off as well. * In the garage of the lab, which looked a bit like a space-age hangar, Trunks waited with 17 and ChiChi while the impressive-looking computer performed its analysis. Various cables connected the motor and the other parts of the chopper to its scanner, which emitted a softly droning hum. Flashing lights and wavelength measurements, which only Trunks and 17 understood, flashed in different colors. They watched intently until a green light lit up with a beep, then printed out a results paper. Trunks pulled it out to examine while 17 read over his shoulder, then announced tentatively, “It looks okay so far, but…” “Wait a minute,” 17 interrupted, pointing to a graph, “Wouldn’t the blue ray at fifty degrees on this axon mean an anomaly?” Skeptically, Trunks looked again at the graph, then frowned. “You’re right. But where? The whole system checks out.” Having been warned to not mention the obsolete model in front of the Sons, 17 replied, “Because the noise your dad was talking about’s coming from the muffler. Leave the scanner on a sec.” ChiChi looked cluelessly from one to the other, but understood that something was still wrong. The two of them inspected the scanner intently. “But it looks fine,” Trunks observed, “Zoom in a bit.” 17 clicked on the screen, enlarging the muffler’s image. “It looks okay now, but it’s been altered.” Trunks clicked on more sections, and they examined the craft piece by piece. “Here.” He zoomed in on another sector. “The storage compartment?” 17 muttered, then asked, “Wait, what’s that?” ChiChi looked closely at the image. “That’s one of Goten’s tools. Why?” The two males exchanged a dreaded glance, and Trunks crawled in to retrieve the object, holding it up curiously. “This is Goten’s?” he asked ChiChi. “Looks like it,” she confirmed, “A month ago he fixed it when it made that noise.” “Tell me you’re joking.” Trunks had paled, rubbing his head. “Why? What’s wrong?” ChiChi began to worry at their incredulous looks. 17 took the improvised tool from Trunks. “It’s partly a lawnmower muffler,” he stated flatly, “It’d make a great silencer for my pistol, and was all that prevented your chopper from crashing, for now. He’s James Bond in training, or what?” 17 was torn between being impressed or horrified. Trunks was quiet for a moment, then looked back at ChiChi. “He did this, rather than tell us. Anyone who talks about my dad and his pride again, can take a look at that.” “I was hoping to keep it,” 17 told him with a grin, “A silencer would be fun.” ChiChi did not share his humor. “Trunks, I understood enough to know our helicopter is screwed, and don’t tell me again it’s covered by the warranty, because I know it’s not.” ChiChi folded her arms stubbornly, her mouth pinched into a thin line. Trunks nodded. “I can tell you the company’s product quality is backed a hundred percent, and we can’t let you leave in a dangerous vehicle. The truth is, that craft’s been illegal for the last three months. A loaner, a new model, many things are possible. I mean no offense, ChiChi, but I think it’s best you work it out with my dad now.” “As you wish, then.” Clearly withholding her anger, ChiChi headed back to the house. “They’re both impossible!” Trunks exclaimed to 17, “Like one fucking capsule helicopter’s gonna drive the company to bankruptcy.” “They’re giving Vegeta some competition,” 17 agreed, “Actually, what you said is perfect. Let him handle it now. Goten certainly won’t argue with him. He isn’t the one in charge, and it’s obvious he hasn’t had his hormone fix yet.” Seeing the brilliance of the idea, Trunks smiled slowly. “That’s true.” “Also,” 17 added, leaning close to whisper, “The same goes for you.” He pulled him close by the shirt for a long kiss, then released him with a devious smirk. “17, that’s a low blow!” Trunks declared, his face blushing several shades of red. “Thank you.” * ChiChi waited outside for Trunks and 17 to join her, purposefully making more noise than necessary before going back in. The measure was unnecessary, however, as both Goten and Vegeta were sound asleep, as they’d left them. A pile of small cats had joined what they saw as the nap group, having made a collective nest in their laps. “That’s what I call a cat-nap,” 17 commented, making Trunks and ChiChi face-palm, though the sight was humorous.  The two Saiyans slowly opened their eyes to discover the warm source of comfort in their laps. “Where did all these come from?” Vegeta muttered. “Furbabies!” Goten exclaimed delightedly, reaching down to somehow pet them all.  “Didn’t I tell you? One of the females had kittens,” Trunks told them with a grin, “They’ve just been weaned, so we have to find homes for some.“  “Can we keep one, Vegeta? Please?” Predictably, Goten looked at him, his eyes a sea of hope. Vegeta groaned, glaring at Trunks.  “You were saying, about low blows?” 17 commented, he and ChiChi enjoying the scene. “You say you want one, too?” Trunks asked innocently. “Sure,” 17 replied cheerfully, “Maybe two or three, if you can’t find enough homes.” “You like animals, 17?” ChiChi asked. “Better than most humans,” 17 replied. The black and white kittens and their mother had awakened, at first crossly at the disturbance, now happy with all the attention. “You, too, ChiChi?” Trunks asked.  “The one in your lap likes you,” 17 added. “Me? Come on, I raised two boys, with all kinds of animals.” She looked down at one she’d been instinctively petting. “One’s behind my head,” Vegeta told Goten. “I know, that’s why I can’t move,” Goten replied. Both reached back, but couldn’t get ahold of one that remained firmly perched on one shoulder each. “See? It’s them who pick you,” 17 told them. The tiny kitten crawled around to touch Vegeta’s nose with its own, then rubbed its face against his cheek, purring approvingly. “What’s it doing?” he asked. “It likes you.” Goten beamed, peeking under its tail. “She. It’s a girl.” She bumped her face against Goten’s as well with a tiny meow. Her back was all black with a white belly, head to tail, with very precise looking white markings on her head. Noticing, Vegeta touched her head with a finger, and gasped. “What are the odds?” he exclaimed. “What?” Goten asked. “The white parts on its head make the exact Saiyan crest,” he explained incredulously. Remembering that he’d once drew it to show him and Trunks, Goten stared at the tiny ball of fur. “Whoa! You see, she’s destined to be ours,” he appealed to Vegeta, “I’ll take care of it,” he promised. “That’s what Bulla said of its mother, and guess who had to clean up its messes,” Vegeta complained, “And it’s a female, that will have more furballs.” “Me and Gohan always took care of our animals!” Goten informed him indignantly, “Mom, tell him.” “They did,” she confirmed, snickering at Vegeta’s expression. “See?” Goten insisted, “I’ll make a little door, and train her to go outside. Plus, she’ll catch the mice.” “If you don’t make pets of them as well,” Vegeta muttered dryly, slumping in precognitive defeat, “You’re taking care of it, or it leaves.” “Thanks! You won’t regret it,” Goten exclaimed happily, “What’s a good name for a Saiyan-cat?” “Okay, great, distraction over,” Trunks announced, plucking the evidence from 17’s jeans pocket, then placed it on the coffee table. “Dad, about the noise you heard - you’ll be better placed to understand why they almost sabotaged their own aircraft, so their case is all yours.” Vegeta stared at the makeshift tool, understanding. “It’s my day,” he muttered, adding dryly, “I advise my ‘clients’ to plead insanity.” He placed their new pet in Goten’s lap and headed for his room, rubbing his head. Goten and ChiChi visibly cringed.  Vegeta returned immediately with a small case that held a capsule, labelled ‘7-Edge’ with the Capsule Corp logo. “It’s simple,” he told them sternly, “I’ll never use this, and it’s perfectly logical if I give it to him.” He tossed it to Goten, who caught it with a questioning look. “Since he can fly by himself, and ChiChi cannot, the choice looks obvious. Right, Goten?” He glanced pointedly at the kitten, then at Goten’s watch. “I have the whole day off, and nothing to do… oh well, too bad. I guess we can always play video games,” he told Goten with a pointed smirk.  Goten’s wide eyes stared up at him reproachfully. “You wouldn’t,” he protested with a sad tinge to his voice. “Your Look isn’t receivable in Saiyan court,” Vegeta replied, unmoved, adding under his breath, “Though, bribes are always considered in good faith.” Goten quickly placed the capsule in his mother’s hand. “Meet your new helicopter.” “Goten, you can’t be serious,” ChiChi began, changing her mind at his warning, dark look. “…Okay,” she replied, silenced.  “Good.” Vegeta sat back down and told Trunks, “So recapsule and recycle that abomination.” Trunks nodded, relieved, and 17 asked Goten, holding up his old tool, “Can I keep it?” “Isn’t that illegal?” Goten asked, glancing at his holster. At 17’s raised eyebrow, he conceded, “Why not.” * Seeing all missions accomplished, ChiChi announced, “Well, I was hoping to get some shopping done. I don’t usually on a Sunday, but for now, I gotta feed two Saiyans and two kittens.” 17 and Trunks grinned, but the latter asked Vegeta, “Can you guys go partway to show her the new features?” “They can’t be that difficult,” ChiChi told them indignantly. “No problem,” Vegeta replied quickly, telling ChiChi, “The regular model doesn’t have some extras I added myself.” Trunks had not thought of that, visibly wondering if it were such a good idea. 17’s eyes lit up. “I want one, too.” To ChiChi, he offered, “Do you want to race some time?” “Sure,” ChiChi replied cheerfully. “Mom.” Goten tugged at her sleeve, and the two kittens watched, standing on their food bags with their heads poking out of his backpack. “No worries, you’ll have all day for ‘video games,’ she told him flatly. “I wouldn’t mind watching that,” 17 said with a once-over each so only they could hear, watching both their faces turn pale, then red. “I’m outa here,” Vegeta muttered to ChiChi, tossing her capsule open to reveal the shiny new engine. 17 stifled a snicker. “It’s fun messing with their heads,” he told Trunks. “Well, later, then,” ChiChi bade them, looking confused again before getting in on the pilot’s side. * ChiChi flew the engine like a boss, Vegeta was impressed to note, even performing a few aero-flips. “I won’t be back before at least six-thirty,” she called before the two jumped, waving, and flew back toward the Son home.  Unaccumstomed to flying, the kittens huddled at the bottom of Goten’s backpack until they were safely landed. Letting them in, Goten fixed the louder windchime over the door, locking the deadbolt as well, to make sure, setting his bag down so the kittens could explore the house. He sighed with relief to be home, pleasantly surprised when Vegeta pinned him to the door for an aggressive, searching kiss that matched his groping hands. For all the cool, collected demeanor he’d shown earlier, his raw desire could no longer be stifled. “Gods, Vegeta.” Trembling with need, Goten pushed him onto the couch to gratefully melt into a hungry, lusty embrace. Neither had the patience for any foreplay, and Goten’s hand slid between his legs to knead his hardening shaft while his mouth took to his throat, surely leaving random teeth marks. Vegeta inhaled sharply at what Goten’s hand was doing to him, but glaced back in annoyance a couple of times. “What?” Goten asked impatiently to feel that he’d softened a bit. Vegeta’s upside-down vision could not ignore the small furball watching behind his shoulder; with black hair, and slanted eyes that were still blue. “I can’t, with that creature watching! Make it leave.” Goten had barely noticed it, and rolled his eyes. “She don’t care. C'mon, just ignore it.“  “I can’t stand being watched,” Vegeta insisted.  Neither in the mood to argue, Goten seized his arm and dragged him to the stairway. “Sorry, kitty, back later. Go play now.” She seemed to understand, and ran off in search of the other kitten while her new masters locked themselves in what was for the moment their room. What harm could two unsupervised kittens do? They would have plenty of time to explain the damage to ChiChi later. * TBC in Chapter 6…