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Insanity	By : leen Category: Dragon Ball Z > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 1865 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Ball Z, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
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Ok, don't hate me. I have jumped forward. Leaving probably a lot of things unsolved and a mystery, what did Goku and Vegeta get up to in the mean time, how did Trunks really change in to what he has become now, but I feel it is time to move on as the focus isn't supposed to be on the 'earlier' years. ( I am planning one or two chapter's from other character's point of view further on which may answer lingering questions, so just bear with me ^.^)
And in my eyes, Trunks' obsession here to desperately deny anything and everything would have a large impact on him, creating a mask for him to cope so to speak. And I needed something to help him cope with it all - I don't actually think he'd turn to intoxicating substances at any point and I've tried not to make it such a big part but unfortunately it crept up on me while I wrote it.
So quite out of character I guess, but as mentioned, I'm only practising here - and thank you for the reviews really appreciate them - each and every one makes me smile, and don't be afraid to give critique - I want to learn how to captivate the audience but I won't stand a chance if no one points out where I go wrong, except for having asked for advice from a brilliant fanfiction writer, unfortunately I don't have anyone to give me their opinion nor to proof read before I post.
Nancy103 : I agree regarding Bulma, which is why I tried to sway her a little between encouraging Trunks to speak to his friend but still, as a mother, understanding Chi Chi. I really like Bulma's character in the series, so it is purely to add to the conflicts here haha ;)
BlackWolf: I suppose without any twists or problems there wouldn't be a whole lot to write, except for a somewhat flatlined story where they live in perfect happiness :/ But nothing lasts forever, good or bad ;)

Darkness. Thick, musky darkness. Heavy dark curtains over windows reaching as high up as the ceiling, they're completely blacking the light out, protecting me from the cruelties of the outside world – and I realise I don't know whether it's night or day.
Music is blaring from somewhere, I fucking hate the tune. I'm still shit faced though, so the device booming the unbearable noises is left unharmed.
I'm awake enough to grunt my pleasure at the dark head moving up and down my throbbing cock however. Gods it feels good.
I lean back into the pillows, sinking in, closing my eyes.
3 years, a ridiculous amount of women with no self-respect what-so-ever, more drugs and alcohol than I care to remember – later, and here I am.
The future kami-damned-president of Capsule Corps. I live as I want, do as I please, no grandkids for mummy yet but I'm sure someone will turn up in the future, at my door, demanding a paternity test and money, she'll have something to take care of then.
I put a hand in the dark hair in front of me, way too silky, but it's the end result of my pleasure that counts anyway. Oh, I'm not selfish nor an idiot, she came so many times I stopped in the end, feeling a bit annoyed that I was the one doing the work. She's the one who's been hauled into my apartment to be taken advantage of at the end of the day, not the other way around.
I close my eyes again, clutching at silky strands with my hand and pressing down a little further, feeling ecstatically relaxed. She's working me, not perfectly but teasing me enough to make the all familiar tingle rise through my balls, clutched in her hand, and up my shaft.
I sink further into the downy pillows, lost in the feverish pleasure washing over me, thinking; I could spend the rest of my life like this. High as a kite, drunk and dick in someone's mouth. Fucking beautiful or what.
The clutch on my sack and the mouth around my need vanish – much to my dismay – my fingers losing their grasp of the soft hair, and I hear a suckling sound in its place. But lips find the head of my erection soon again, and what I believe is a piercing teasing the precum out of the slit, makes me shudder. A playful tongue moves up and down the length, and the small soft hand returns, fondling me eagerly.
I move my hips forward, my body suddenly desperate and boldly inviting.
"Fuck me," I moan pushing against the incredible jolt of pleasure that suddenly rocks my whole body.
"You like that babe?"
"You know it pee-wee."
A hand has replaced the mouth on my cock, fingers touching a magical and completely unknown source of pleasure inside me.
"Oh gods, don't stop."
My explosion draws nearer faster and more violently than I have ever felt it before, a sensation of something about to well over taking me under. The hand around me is pitilessly unforgiving and unloving, squeezing harshly each time it reaches my dripping tip.
There's a crashing noise coming from somewhere, but I really couldn't give a fuck right now.
"Never mind that, j-just don't – nnnnn," I'm interrupted by a pressure in that unknown zone of pure ecstasy, the hand still working me relentlessly with firm strokes, drawing out moans from me with every move, and only seconds later – crying, I arch involuntarily off the bed as my orgasm explodes all over me.
Fingers and hand leave me suddenly, with a strangled scream.
Not really caring but wondering why I was left so abruptly, opening my eyes and raising my head I look up, panting.
"Oh."
Said girl is stood pressed against the wall opposite the foot end of my bed, clutching a pillow to cover her modesty – pssh who is she trying to kid' she hasn't got an ounce of it.
In the door way stands, who else but, dear daddy.
"Bad timing Vegeta," I laugh and let my head fall back, trying to catch my breath.
"Who the hell is the girl?"
"I don't know," I answer, shamelessly sprawled out and sticky.
"He likes to call me Chibi."
I look up at the woman, you what?
"The fuck you on about?"
"You've been calling me Chibi, since the bar, and increasingly so since.." she trails, stopping herself – dark eyes glancing briefly over to where the intruder is stood.
"Since what?" my father asks her, with a tone that implies she will answer if she values her head where it is.
I jump up, wrapping a sheet around my waist with one hand and waving the other one frantically.
"I think it's time for you to go Gina, nice to have met you-"

"My name's Airi," she mutters as I coax her towards the door, grabbing her clothes from the floor and throw the pillow to the bed.
My father steps in front of us in the door way.
"Since what, Airi?" He says, crossing his arms over his chest, brows drawn down to a deadly glare.
"Well, erm, since I noticed he kinda likes, you know.." she wiggles her, fingers?
"No I don't, please enlighten me."
"She really needs to go Vegeta, she has a funeral to attend," I protest and push the clothes into her arms.
"What, no I-"
"Shut up boy, tell me, now."
"He likes it up the ass."
"Fucking hell Gen, have some fucking compassion!" I cry, not believing the humiliation that's been shoved in my face, I was suspecting she was going to say something like that but I can't remember a fucking thing.
"Her name is Airi, you dick head," my father snarls at me, letting the girl scurry past him.
"Whatever," I sigh, returning to fall back on the only friend I have in this cruel world. My bed. You always catch me when I fall, bed.
"It reeks in here," he mutters, whipping the curtains open and unlocking the windows.
I feel like hissing with my canines bared at the sunlight that's suddenly spilling into the room.
"It's how I like it."
"Get yourself cleaned up, you do remember what day it is don't you?"
"The day you caught me getting off?"
Bottles on the floor, clinging as they fall on each other, he mutters something to himself, clearly pissed off.
"It's your mother's birthday, she's expecting you to be there and if it wasn't for the fact that it'll break her heart if you don't show up, I'd kick your ass to the next dimension, you fucking idiot."
"Ah that girl was just pulling your leg Vegeta, don't mind her," I say, making myself comfortable in the soft sheets.
He disappears out the bedroom door, hopefully he's given up and realised I really don't feel like attending a party with all the people I've successfully avoided the past few years.

Tap is running in the kitchen, maybe he's making me coffee. Ye a coffee would sit well right now.
"Two sugars Vegeta!" I call out, already able to taste the wonderful black poison.
Settled in contentedly in my heavenly bed again, I wonder what day it is. Probably weekend, ye must be. I do take my job seriously, I wouldn't get this sloshed if it was a week day. I sigh, and make up my mind; I will stay in bed for the rest of the day, I think I've earned it.
Footsteps silently pad across the floor and towards the bed where I'm lying. There's no aroma of deliciously sweet coffee though, I open my eyes wondering why he hasn't brought-
"MY FUCKING GODS!" I scream as the ice water hits me, soaking my bed and startling my body; it sends me into a paralytic shock and in my panic, my legs tangled in the sheets; I fall off the bed face first onto the floor.
"So not cool Vegeta," I mumble once my senses finally return to me, sprawled naked on the floor, face pressed against the carpet
"I told you to get up."
"You're such an ass," I whine, slowly getting up.
"Go clean yourself off, get dressed and be ready within 20 minutes or I'll tell her you've had an accident and can't make it," he says over his shoulder in the doorway.
"You make it sound as if that would be a bad thing?"
"An accident where your arms, legs and spine were broken."
The door is slammed shut.
"Fucking psycho," I mutter to myself, and make my way to my on-suite bathroom.
I really, really do not want to go to this gathering.

Father is driving my newest sports hover car with me in the passenger seat – I'm not capable of flying or driving safely apparently.
My mouth is bone dry, and I keep getting shooting pains in my head, sun blaring in my eyes. Not quite sure if it's aftermath, or because of what's awaiting me.
Some people might wonder how I ended up being the most sought after, filthy rich and disgustingly smart bachelor ever, with more girls on my arms than I can cope with.
Well, to convince my father I sure as hell wasn't some cock jockey and to increase my non-existent social skills while doing so, I went down the path of getting drunk, discovering pleasant thrills in the form of experimental drugs and of course taking a new girl home with me every night – leaving her more often than not with taxi money in the morning so I wouldn't have to listen to the let's meet again sometime bullshit.
Problem is, it's become my life style. Smooth and intelligent business man in daytime, sexual predator at night. But I'm always careful not to be seen when I take off, all the media has as proof is that of some girls who insist they had a piece of Trunks Briefs – I couldn't care less to be honest as long as mother doesn't see my spaced out face on the cover of her morning newspaper.
Unfortunately, it would seem daddy isn't as proud of me as I'd hoped for. I know for a fact if he could, he'd beat me to within an inch of my life – give me a senzu bean – and do it all over again. Seems I can't get it right no matter what I do.
"Haven't you got some eye drops or something, your eyes look like they're bleeding and your pupils are fucking humongous, I'm not bringing you in like that."
I sigh and open the glove compartment, pretty sure I've got something in here. Ah there it is, my saviour before important business meetings.
Leaning my head back, with one drip in each eye I blink away the stinging liquid.
"Better?" I snarl, tossing the small vial of drops back in where I found it.
The rest of the journey is spent in silence, and I swear every time I'm about to nod off the jerk swerves to the side, knocking my already throbbing head painfully against the window.
Vegeta parks the car in the private garage, away from the others that are already cluttering the street and drive way.
Getting out, I stretch my tired muscles and yawn, my body's desperate attempt to gain some oxygen. A slow stride along the path leading to the domed building, and he turns to me before entering.
"Keep your fucking nose clean, if just for one evening," he threatens.
"Don't worry daddy, I'll be a good boy," I promise rolling my eyes.
He sighs and opens the doors. Let the show begin.

My mother, stood in my grandfather's beloved garden with a photographer choreographing her – is looking absolutely stunning.
A simple summer's dress draped in pale cream chiffon layers, her blue hair dancing in the slight breeze and her eyes sparkling.
Half leaning on the rail feeling as if someone's just performed a botched lobotomy on me, I slowly make my way down the stairs to the lower tier terrace and she waves the photographer away when she sees me.
"You look impossibly beautiful Bulma," I compliment her as I kiss the side of her cheek, and she throws her arms around me.
"I was starting to worry Trunks," she says sounding relieved I've finally showed up.
"I wouldn't miss your birthday for anything in the world," I lie, and smile as she pulls back enough to take a good look at me.
"So handsome, my boy," she says with a hand on my cheek "Come, let's go get something to drink," she continues, towing me along to the bar set up on the veranda.
Strangers are mingling, no doubt here for the free food and inevitable publicity. But there's also the odd familiar face, there's Yamcha by the pool talking to a girl half his age. I grin and raise my drink when he sees me, poor fool, reeking of desperation.
"Have you said hi to the others yet?" my mother wonders as we walk over to a couple of lounging chairs where the terrace ends, looking out over the exotic garden, and sit down.
I sink in to the unbelievably comfortable cushions and sigh contently, just what I needed.
"No, not yet. Who's here?" Not that I give a shit.
"Everyone I think," she answer and turns in her seat, scanning the crowds "Even Piccolo, look, hi Piccolo!" she calls merrily waving her arms.
The Namek is stood further down in the garden away from all the imbeciles. Leaning against a tree he mutters something inaudible but nods her way. Such a jovial individual, much like daddy.
"You're joining us for the meal later aren't you? All these people won't be there, just our closest friends. It's been such a long time since you seen them all, please stay?" She begs and grabs a hold of my hand.
My stomach turns at the request, the last thing I want to do is spend my evening with those people. Except for Gohan whom I have to put up with these days as he's now part of our research team, I've so far successfully evaded them all.
I open my mouth to say something, just as father comes and stands at the side of Bulma's lounger.
A very mean glare cast my way, telling me; if I know what's best for me, I'll agree to my mother's request.
And that I do, then I excuse myself for a minute, and head over to the bar, which will bring me comfort for the rest of the night.

Laughs, memories, bad jokes, Goku getting smacked at the back of the head by the Medusa and Master Roshi insisting he dropped something down mother's cleavage.
Bored out of my mind though head feeling a lot better, sat at the end of the long table, which is clad in a lavish white cloth and decorated with extravagant white and cream flower arrangements, I'm folding origami using the expensive silky smooth cotton napkins on the dinner table, they're pretty good for the job actually.
And yes, I know ori-fucking-gami, 'cause I'm damned awesome.
I think my displeased look has encouraged them all to leave me alone so far. That and the huge fucking carpet burn across my face.
But there's always one, isn't there.
"You're looking quite apathetic Trunks."
"I didn't realise you was such a perceptive guy Gohan," I answer sardonically, not taking my eyes off the swan that I am ingeniously creating.
"Cheerful as ever, where have you been anyway, haven't seen you at work," he continues.
"Oh you know, nothing unusual – taking care of the queues to my bedroom," I smirk to myself, folding the wings of the swan.
He clears his throat, no doubt they're all exchanging looks, pitying me for my obscene behaviour.
"You should come visit some ti-"
"No thanks."
Everyone are startled by the sudden crash, which shakes the flute glasses and cutlery on the table.
I look up, met by my father's glare, his fist still clenched on the table. Oh ye, I was supposed to 'keep my nose clean'.
"Just kidding," I laugh and grin stupidly, hoping it sounds real enough while I wince on the inside "'Course I'll come and visit, any time, just let me know."
Urgh I'm making myself feel fucking sick.
"I think Goten is coming home in couple of weeks, you should come by then and have dinner with us."
My left eye twitches, a quick glance at Vegeta tells me one word out of order will end up with that promise fulfilled about my limbs being broken.
"Ye sure, great," I manage through a plastered on smile and clenched teeth.
"Great," the jerk beams, and finally leaves me alone, returning his attention to the rest of the idiots.
Perhaps I'll take daddy up on that offer in couple of weeks' time anyway and live with the consequences, there's no fucking chance I'm going, and I would have thought he'd wanted me to keep away. Perhaps his worries have settled after all these years.

Mother is saying her good byes, given kisses on her cheeks and drunken thank yous for a pleasant evening.
I'm sat in the kitchen at the breakfast island, flicking grapes in to the air and catching them in my mouth.
She comes in, visibly tired, pulling her ridiculous high heels off and takes a seat opposite side.
"Are you staying the night?"
"If you want me to," I shrug, and send another grape off to its inevitable doom.
"It'd be nice, we could grab some breakfast in the morning before work," she suggests, while rubbing her swollen feet.
I never understood why women do that, put their feet through torture only to be pained for days after.
"'Sounds good mum," I smile, knowing exactly what she wants to hear.
"You're growing up too fast," she smiles then, almost tearfully, leaning forward with her elbows to the side.
"Aw don't be like that," I say and slide off the bar stool, circling the table to where she's sat.
"You'll always be my favourite girl," I comfort her in a hug while she sobs quietly.
"I feel like I don't see you enough Trunks, we never hear from you," she whispers against my shoulder.
"Sorry mum, I promise to make more of an effort, it's not on purpose you know that," I lie and pull away slightly to wipe the tears off her cheek softly with my thumb.
She takes my face in her hands, looking for and finding the promise in my eyes that she needs to settle her torment.
"I best head up, don't forget about breakfast in the morning," she says and sniffles, grabbing her shoes and sliding off the stool.
"I wont, good night mum."
She turns in the entrance to the kitchen, smiling, eyes still red. And I feel like such an asshole all of a sudden.
"Night my boy," she answer, and vanishes into the darkened hallway.
Tired of the grapes, I grab a beer from the fridge and once I know for sure she's retreated to her bedroom I ascend the same stairs, heading towards my old sleeping quarters.
A dark figure is approaching me in the dimly lit, long corridor. Guess it wasn't safe just yet after all.
He stops in front of me, blocking my way.
"Thanks for a great evening," I say happily and take a swig from my bottle.
"What is the meaning of your behaviour?"
Has he never heard about not throwing stones in glasshouses? As if he's some kind of saint. Jeez.
"I think it went pretty well, considering my extreme hangover and me being emotionally scarred for life this morning."
A hand grabs me by my throat, my back roughly pushed against the wall.
"You're poisoning your body, humiliating not only yourself but also me – have you ever considered how your mother would feel if she knew what a fuck up you really are?" he growls, grip around my windpipe tightening.
"I'm just sharing the love Vegeta, spreading that Saiyan seed, isn't that what you wanted?" I say with a strained voice under the pressure around my neck, but still smirking lopsidedly.
A fist is drawn back in a blur, wincing I close my left eye in anticipation to the pain that is to come.
But nothing happens.
The grip on my throat disappears, and I open my eye in surprise to see him seething in front of me. Fists at his sides, clenched and brows drawn down into a menacing scowl.
"Your disrespect for our race is nauseating, luckily for you I wont put you in hospital on the woman's birthday, next time you wont be so lucky."
He nudges past me and disappears down the hallway.
I can finally exhale a deep breath of relief once he's out of sight, I was certain he'd knock me out cold just then.
My old room is just like how I left it, maybe a little tidier thanks to a robot or two. I haven't set a foot in here for at least a couple of years.
Letting myself fall face down on the bed, I wish I wouldn't have agreed to breakfast in the morning. I'd rather sleep the day away, still exhausted and not yet recovered entirely from the adventurous weekend.
But, I wont let mother down. I just hope it'll be as pain free as possible. Come to think about it I probably do need to go to the office to see what's on the schedule this week anyway. That and to see who they've hired as my new secretary, maybe take her for a protein rich lunch if she fits the bill, I've gotta put her talents to the test after all.
I turn my head to where the bedside table is at, and I suddenly wonder..
Opening the drawer, I find what I'm looking for, toss it on the floor and with a click the desired object appears. The spare bed.
I get up and walk over to it, remembering the last time it was used. Gently grasping the white sheets, feeling the cool softness of the cotton, I silently consider whether it's possible..
Crawling carefully on top of the bed, leaning my head down I draw in a deep breath, smelling the pillow. And sure as hell, very faint but strong enough for my sensitive Saiyan senses to pick it up, a small fraction of your scent is lying dormant in the cotton fabric.
Insanity takes over my body and mind before I realise what it is I'm doing. I shift to my side and press the pillow against my face to get as much of your aroma as I possibly can.
My other hand unbuttons my trousers, moves them and my boxers down in a hurry and desperately, I start stroking myself, the first touch making me moan while I have to bite my lip to keep as silent as I possibly can.
No visual images needed, no wishes for anyone to be near, the faint scent fills me to the core and takes me under harder than any drug ever could.
I don't have to tease or coax, just ruthlessly fisting myself faster and harder knowing I'll soon add to your hallucinogenic scent, withheld from my denied obsession, with my pearly white cum.
Another deep breath, cock in my hand pulsating fervently with the eager need gathering and climbing towards the leaking slit.
It pushes its way into my mind, your half naked form in the moon light that night, and with that my insanity wins. I grunt hoarsely, biting the pillow and the sheets are soon stained with my essence.
Breathless, I prolong the moment, which sadly pales an awful lot in comparison to the night we shared together even if it was just clumsy teenage petting, milking my length to make myself cry out and shudder in pleasure.
Laughing to myself in the darkness, I realise I have positively lost my mind. Perhaps I need to stay away from the vodka, ye, vodka does this to my head the day after.
I clean myself off with the crumbled sheets, gather them up to be washed in the morning and capsulate the bed before I lazily undress myself.
Bright moonlight is spilling in through the window as I find myself in front of its ledge. Not full, but captivating nonetheless. Being somewhat sober by now with the lack of numbing chemicals in my blood, harsh reality returns to me.
Staring at the beautiful moon my eyes start to burn, I chew the inside of my lip in desperation to push it all away.
A small voice tells me I'm tired of the pretence, sickened by this insincere pathetic act I call life. My mind is stained black from the toxin and the lies I feed myself and all those around me. The old familiar ache gathering, trying to push its way through the cage where I've locked it up, the ache I'd hoped would die along with a piece of my soul years ago.
'Pull yourself together for fucks' sake', I curse mentally and wipe stinging tears away with the back of my hand. There is no turning back, this is what I've become and I have no choice but to live with the consequences.
Put the mask back on, continue down the lonely path my actions have brought me on to, stay away from the brink of madness, if only for a little while longer.
This is why I avoid them, this is why I kill myself with toxic chemicals, the hole you left unravels as soon as my senses return and every fucking time it happens I want to find you, feel you against me and beg you to take me.
I feel the pockets of my trousers that I threw on the floor, in desperation, looking for the cure to my disease. Sighing with relief, I pull it out, knowing soon euphoria will embrace me and settle me into a dreamless sleep, a sleep where you don't exist.
- 7
- 8
- 9
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Insanity