Cross-Eyed | By : CardDragonBall Category: Dragon Ball Z > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 4071 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own DragonballZ, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Card
Slash. Au
(Very, Very AU) Probably humor.
Definitely sex. In fact the
title is a reference to sex.
Note: If you
haven’t read Hormone Therapy (YOU SHOULD HAVE) then this might be a bit
confusing for you. It would be in your
best interest to go read it.
& Of course:
I
don’t own DBZ, or all of my deranged fantasies would come true and the show
would be banned from public TV.
~~~~**
Trunks shoved the wall off
his back and stood up, dusted away the plaster and moved to stand next to
Goten. Watched the android trying to
stand up, kept blinking. Confused. Disoriented. And then the stupid female one came, yelled “17!” and grabbed her
partner. Ran away. It was the first time they had ever run
away. Trunks let himself sag a little,
let his power level drop. Looked at
Goten in time to see Vegeta punch his brother in the face.
“Will
you ever LISTEN to ME?!”
Goten
shoved himself off the wall, shot after his brother—who was moving up, out of
the main part of the freshly ruined city.
He watched it happen, felt the spike of ki even before the sky went
completely yellow. Watched the two of
them clash. Ki burst like lightening
around the two of them. Fists hit skin,
left bruises, but even as he watched it, listened to them screaming back and
forth, the bruises were fading.
“You’re
no one’s mother, Vegeta!”
“You’re
a fucking idiot, Goten.” Then he
round-housed his brother, knocked him downward, shot after him, grabbed the
shirt. “You should know not to use
that!”
“These
ignorant fuckers don’t know what it was!
He didn’t even see it!” Then
Goten knocked him off, punched him, pulled both his harms back: “Ka-ma-ha-me-HA!”
Vegeta
held out his hands, gathered the energy, shot it back, yelling: “Gallick
Gun! I don’t care if the damn robot
knew what it was; you KNEW what it was!
And what it did!” he finished the sentence in time to catch the
reflected ki blast and they played catch, like that. But
Goten did, and he pulled back, flipped his brother off, and moved back down to
stand next to Trunks. Licked his bloody
lips and smiled. “Ready to go back?”
“What
did you do to that android?” Trunks asked.
He’d seen Goten’s fingers close around the bastard’s fist, and then
there was a surge of power, and when Trunks had gotten up the robot had been
smoking. But he couldn’t figure out
what had happened.
Vegeta
touched down, crossed his arms over his chest, let his power level fall back
down. He was breathing heavily—not
because he seemed tired—but because his whole body was still emanating the rage
that Trunks felt when he had first attacked Goten. “It doesn’t matter, we’re not using it again.”
“But,”
Trunks said, “It almost killed that android!”
He managed to avoid the punch that was aimed for him, but just barely,
and the sheer momentum knocked him back into the pile of rubble. When he shook the dust out of his hair again
and looked up, Goten had his arms wrapped around his brother’s shoulders,
disabling his arms as Vegeta jerked and snarled—like an insane animal.
“Let
it go, ‘Geta!” Goten said. “He didn’t
know.”
“I
don’t care!” Vegeta shook, jumped up into the air, flew them back, slammed his
brother into a wall. The wall
collapsed, rubble flew everywhere, and the pale gray dust covered them. But Goten didn’t move away. “Let me go!”
Trunks
stood up. Felt the sutures on his arm
pop, hissed in pain, looked at the blood as it started to run down his arm
again. Grit his teeth to keep from
making an audible sound of pain.
Wrapped a dusty hand around it.
Moved back when Goten landed on the ground at his feet. Watched the Saiyan flip back to his feet,
his tail lashing back and forth and he turned to face his enraged twin.
“Look,
‘Geta,” Goten said, both of his hands up in neutrality, “I’m sorry.”
Vegeta
stared. There was a maniacal look in
his eyes, something that Trunks had never seen in any person. Something that verged as close to pure anger
that Trunks had ever seen. It was
beyond the cockiness, beyond arrogance, beyond the anger that was needed to
turn into a Super Saiyan, beyond a lust for revenge. That look was something infinitely darker. But it faded away. Vegeta sniffed the air again.
Reached into his pocket, pulled out that silvery bag again. Tossed it at his brother.yes"> Vegeta sat. On the
highest precipice this stupid planet had.
Closed his eyes, leaned his head down, felt the giddiness settling in,
because he could barely breath up here in this atmosphere. That was point. He felt murder rising in him.
Stronger than it had ever been before.
Dad called this part of him darkness.
Said that every Saiyan faced it.
Vegeta faced it more often than most.
His mother sympathized with him.
Confided his worst pillages to his son.
But this was different. Vegeta
would have killed Trunks. Goten knew
it. Because they always knew what the
other was thinking in battle. Always
moved as one entity. And He would have
murdered Trunks, squashed his face in, ground his every bone to dust.
Vegeta
felt his eyes watering, felt the dizziness escalate. Push rage away, because his fingers were turning pale now. His skin was freezing.
Stupid
Goten.
Stupid
fucking genius.
Stupid
fucking androids that thought they were the shit, and had the pure gall to
attempt to take his brother away from him.
That
lovely little device that Goten had—that device HE WAS SUPPOSED TO HAVE
DESTROYED—was what killed the robots in their time. Goten made it, explained the basic physics of it. Energy transfer. Explained that while the androids were covered in synthesized
human flesh and hair, they were actually robotic. They lived off power sources.
Ran by circuits. Could be
destroyed by overloading their energy reserves. Make them blow a fuse.
Mom and Dad had thought this was such a cleveea. Goten
had been lying. Bastard. He made the little thing. Just metal and rubber. Put it on his own hand. Grabbed that stupid fucking male
one—17—around the face and powered up.
Pushed all his ki into his hand, shot it through the robot until it
started to combust. Until the robot was
dying, and in retaliation it had held on.
Fed all that power back through the little device. Grabbed a hold of his little brother as 17
blew up.
Goten
knew it would happen. Knew that the
energy would ricochet back at him. That
the android would probably have a final kamikaze attack. New that he was probably going to die in the
process. But he hadn’t spoken a damn
word about it. And when his body had
hit the ground, burnt and powerless, Vegeta had never felt a darker part of
himself.
Mom
and Dad had attacked the remaining android.
Vegeta
had attacked his brother. Watched him
dying. Pressed his hand to that scar on
Goten’s arm. Forced life back into
him.
But
APPARENTLY, HORROFIC memories DIDN’T mean a DAMN thing to his STUPID little
brother. Vegeta coughed. Felt his body starting to black out. Decided that he had spent enough time up
where he couldn’t breath and instant transmissioned back.
~~~**
Goten
crossed his legs, hummed to himself.
Toyed with the antiseptic bag that Vegeta had thrown at him. This was another cross-invention between him
and Aunt Bulma. They both figured with
the twins’ many adventures, they needed some sort of all-purpose cleaner. And thus the bag continuously cleaned the
towel inside and resoaked it with anti-bacterial. It hurt like a sonofabitch though. Iodine. Nasty stuff. And poor Trunks had debris in his
wound. Had to have it scrubbed
out. That had been entirely unpleasant,
and now the demi was in the shower.
Hiding. Trying not to let anyone
know that he was in pain.
Which
was fine.
Goten
didn’t mind anyway. He leaned back into
the headboard of the bed and thought about what they were doing here. Saving Trunks. Saving this planet.
Apparently saving that little boy—Bulma informed him that the kid was a
boy—from a gruesome death. For
what? In the end, they would
leave. The planet would be
vulnerable. Someone else would have to
come and defend them. Logically, of
course, they could wish back this world’s Prince and Gohan. But there would be no reason to do it. Once they left this Time-dimension it would
most likely collapse, because it should have aligned with the one Trunks went
back to save. But it hadn’t. Unfinished business and all that
goobly-gook.
And
the dream, from that morning, revisited him as he sat on the bed. Somewhere, in that damn ice cave, there was
the answer to why they couldn’t get back to their own world. Somewhere in the memories they couldn’t
remember. Speaking of memory, why did
Vegeta have to have a memory like a steel trap that never let out the bad
ones. How come he could remember every
single time Goten ever got hurt? What
was that? Some sort of super-ability
that served no purpose?
Why couldn’t he remember the time they’d
given Fluffers the dog those fertility pills and ended up with twenty two
little yippy dogs? Or the time they had
reprogrammed the Dragon Ball finder to find their parents. That had been fucking hilarious, because
Krillin and Piccolo had tried to find the Dragon Balls and they kept finding
their parents in compromising situations.
It had taken months to trace the problem back to the twins. Or that one time where they went to Paris
and melted all the stinky cheese until it flooded the streets and everyone got
covered with it?
BUT
NO. Vegeta,
himself, said he wanted to defeat the androids as soon as possible, and Goten
was a lot stronger than before, a lot smarter and he could use the stupid
device he had made if he wanted.
Although, using it without telling anyone about it probably wasn’t the
best idea. Because he had told Vegeta
he destroyed it. Which was partially
true. He had destroyed the original
one. And then he’d made another one
with a metal that had be con conductivity.
And he had backed the metal with rubber to stem the backlash. Not that Vegeta waited two seconds for an
explanation before he started beating the crap out of people.
Trunks
came back into the room. Narrowed his
eyes at him. Dripping hair; streaks of
water all down those nice muscles. No
pants. Just a towel. Pretty, pretty.
Goten
sat up again. Slipped the silver bag
into his pocket. Waited.
“If
you wanted to fuck me so badly, why haven’t you yet?” He sat on the bed, faced Goten.
Stared at him with blue eyes.
Looked so innocent like that.
“I
don’t know. Maybe I wanted to
wait. Maybe I didn’t think you were
ready.” Goten moved off the bed,
shrugged out of his jacket, floated in the air for a moment as he pulled off
his boots and his socks. Pulled his
shirt over his head. Paused, looked at
the way Trunks moved back, leaned against the head board, had the towel over
his lap still, but one of his legs was flat on the bed, the other was bent at
the knee.
“Why
do you get to decide when I’m ready?” Trunks asked. Sounded indignant.
“Well,”
Goten said, he pulled out his very most favoritest tube out of his pocket
before he pushed his pants off.
“Because I’m the only one here that has done what I’m asking you. So, until you throw yourself on the bed,” he
kneeled on the bed, pulled the legs open, tossed the towel across the room,
“Spread your pretty legs and beg me to fuck you, I don’t think you’re ready.”
Blue
eyes got darker. Anger was essential taiyaaiyan sex, Goten thought. The angrier,
the better. And the fact that there was
a very pretty demi-saiyan under him would only make life better for him. He rubbed his hands up and down the smooth
thighs, watched the look in those eyes.
Waited for it.
“I
already told you that I wouldn’t beg you for what you want.”
Goten
kissed him, pressed their bodies together.
Pushed the mouth open, sucked Trunks’ tongue, and then kissed his whole
face. Whispered in his ear: “You don’t
have a clue what I want.” Then he moved
down the neck, sucked a line of hickeys there, to where the blood-spot was
still dark black on his shoulder.
Kissed that spot, but didn’t suck on it. Moved down further. Kept
his hands on those thighs, made them stay open, even as he Trunks whimpered
under him and tried to rock his hips up.
“You
ever going to show me?” came the response, “Or am I just supposed to guess?”
Goten
looked up at him, pulled back. Put one
hand on the perfect chest, wrapped the other around his leg, and with a great
lack of elegance—on Trunks’ part—he flipped him over. Pulled him onto his hands and knees. Pressed his chest to Trunks’ back. “The problem isn’t that I won’t show you,” Goten said. Then he moved back again, picked up the
little tube. Flipped it open, squeezed
it out onto his fingers. Closed
it. Dropped it on the floor. “Ready?” he asked. Rubbed the tip of his finger against the entrance before him,
felt the whole body before him tighten up.
Instant reaction, immediate response.
Pride.
Trunks
tried to move away, Goten held onto his hips.
Slid his finger inside. Rolled
it around, kept moving it even when he heard the little catches of Trunks’
breath. The kid wanted to tell him to
stop.yes"> Go ask him if he’s willing to die to save your pathetic
planet.” A hand shoved him.
When
Trunks turned to look over his shoulder, Vegeta was still standing there, arms
crossed over his chest, leaving absolutely no room for an objection of any
form. And he moved, to go back up the
stairs. Hating both of the brothers. Because they were exactly what they said
they were: Super Saiyans. Stronger than
anything Trunks had seen. Because he
had wanted Goten to fuck him—and not wanted it—and when he had been put on his
hands and knees, and felt himself being invaded, he tried to hate it. Tried to hate the way it made his whole body
feel good. Found that he couldn’t. It was good.
But
it shouldn’t have been, and he reacted with the only emotion he could rely on
all the time. Anger.
He
reached his door. Stared at it. Wondered what the hell he was doing
listening to Vegeta. Then pressed his
hand to the door and pushed it open.
~~~~~~~~~~~***
Goten: Yeah,
another chance for nookie!
Lil’Geta:
Oi.
Trunks: Why
did I have to be such an ass.
Lil’Geta:
Because this whole story is based around the pursuit of your ass.
Goten:
Yeah!! Let’s pursue that ass!
Jaygoose:
You were supposed to be a tad
confused about what he did. (or at
least that’s what I intended.)
Mechanical
Butterfly:
Oh no. Flus’ no good. Hope you
get better.
Getarian:
Yeah! The dream thing didn’t confuse everyone! Yippie!
(was worried that it would be weird and confusing.) Yeah!
And everyone else wants to know what happened in the cave too! Yeah!
(I want to know too.) And I’m so
glad that the twins are like both of their parents. That was the goal, actually, and I’m glad I got it right.
Yeah. The biting (well, Vegeta & Goten’s bites) aren’t really that
exciting. An outward representation of
their shared fate and all that gobbly-gook.
Ta!
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