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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
- 8
- 9
- 10
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Rave: I don't want to slip and reveal anything, but have faith my dear, Vegeta simply believes he's protecting/helping his son. Think of it as an extension of the "if you can land a punch on my face I'll take you to the park for an hour" scene - spurring him on in his own way haha ;) Thanks for the encouragement, it helps a lot as I never thought anyone would find this read worthy at all.
Not much to say here, Poor Trunks is still his own monster, thinking everyone is against him.

Mother chats happily about upcoming projects, and small inventions she's been working on in her own time. I smile and nod where appropriate, enjoying finally having that creamy sweet coffee I was robbed of so cruelly the previous morning.
She fills me in on a meeting that needs attending later in the day, I nod and tell her I'll deal with it.
The lavish french style decorated café where we're sat, large windows overlooking the busy city life outside, is bustling with pretentious people. It makes me somewhat dizzy, their fake laughs and the charades of admiration sickening when really they hate the guts of whoever they're with.
"Oh Gohan!" my mother chirps and waves her hand.
I wince inwardly, I was hoping I wouldn't have to see him this week, or the next or the next after that.
"Hey Bulma, I thought I'd find you here, morning Trunks," he says, clutching on to a portfolio and a stack of paper.
Fucking geek.
"Hey," I answer with a stiff grin turning towards him.
His eyes widen and he freezes, seemingly forgetting completely for a brief moment what he came here for.
But he quickly hides his discomfort, for whatever reason, and clears his throat before he explains to mother that he'd like to go over his folder with her at some point, but insists we should finish our breakfast and that it can wait until later.
"Such a lovely man he's grown into," my mum sighs when he excuses himself and agrees to meet Bulma at the office later "Videl is a very lucky lady," she continues and sips her coffee.
"She sure is," I agree automatically not really listening, but instead wondering sadistically how Mr Goody Two Shoes would react if the future me would return. Entertaining thought indeed.

I walk down the carpeted path way of the first floor, passing one office stall after another with women greeting me as Mr. Briefs, some winking others blushing. I wonder how many of them have been between my sheets.
There's a particularly persistent woman following me around though, at first I wasn't bothered too much but it's starting to really aggravate me.
"Ok, who the fuck are you," I snarl as I turn around, finally losing my patience, startling the whole office floor in the process.
She looks frightened, a diary clutched in her arms. Kinda pretty, in a nerdy kind of way with her blond hair pinned up and black glasses.
"I-I'm the new secretary Mr. Briefs," she says and lowers her head with an embarrassed blush.
"Oh right," I sigh, completely forgetting about my mental promise to trial the new employee, Trunks Briefs' way.
But she doesn't look like the easy kind of girl, and I'm not in the mood to convince a prude to give me head during lunch.
"Wait for me at the office, I will be there soon," I instruct her, needing some space.
"Certainly Mr. Briefs," she says and nods before she hurries away in the opposite direction.
"Get back to work!" I shout when I realise an office worth's of curious eyes are all on me.
They all jump in their seats, and return to their work. I sigh and carry on towards the canteen to find some more much needed coffee.
As I turn the corner of the corridor leading to my destination, a hand on my shoulder spins me around.
Gohan.
I glare at him questioningly, wondering what the hell he wants now.
"Are you out of your damned mind?" He hisses in a shushed tone.
"Probably, what's it got to do with you?" I answer crossing my arms.
"You know what I mean, you're.." He looks around as if to make sure we're alone "You're high."
I laugh at his bewildered expression, now I know why he looked so pale in the café all of a sudden.
"Gohan, you're killing me," I say merrily and mess his perfect hair up before he can pull away. I know how much he hates it when I do that.
"This isn't funny Trunks," he growls and swats my hands away, putting his perfect hair back in place "Why- Does Bulma know? You can't lead the board meeting later like this!"
"Relax geek, there's nothing to worry about," I pat his back and continue my mission to the canteen "In fact, why don't you join me," I call over my shoulder, knowing he'll be there no doubt, to make sure I behave.

"So as you can see gentlemen, this new product will not only give us monopoly on the market, it will rake in profits of up to 110% per unit, and the retailers are already desperate to see the first prototypes."
Obese and sweaty men in fitted suits nod in agreement around the oval table in front of me where I'm standing in the oversized conference room. It's a waste of a meeting really, anyone knows I've got an eye for what the public wants – every product I've approved has pushed sales through the roofs. We all just need to go over the technicalities, the numbers and vote whether to push it forward or not to keep the market fresh and interesting.
A mobile phone starts ringing, my eyes snap up from the clipboard in my hand to find whatever idiot is responsible for the disturbance..
The idiot would be the one blushing. Gohan.
I raise an eye brow his way, and he looks down under the table where I'm guessing his phone is hidden.
He silences the device and clears his throat in embarrassment.
"Sorry Mr. Briefs, my brother wasn't aware I'd be in a meeting," he explains.
The pillow, the scent, memories of perfected stomach muscles in the moonlight.
Fuck.
I quickly take a seat, and pull my chair in as far as possible.
"Hrm, no worries Mr. Son. Would you- erm, share with the board the process of how the product is produced please," I request.
He looks at me surprised, most likely because it is always I who take care of the introductions.
Only I have a little problem all of a sudden. And that problem is slowly but surely starting to throb.
Gohan stands up where he was sat and takes over, as I pretend to take notes on a piece of paper in front of me. When in fact I'm doodling cocks. Cocks cocks cocks.
Beads of sweat are gathering on my brow, I try to loosen the collar of my shirt but it still feels as if I'm being strangled. Bouncing my leg up and down under the table I try desperately to distract myself while biting at the end of my pen, but it only makes my problem that more painful.
Fucking hell, I need to get these people out of here. My mind keeps slipping back to that marvellous scent I tracked down last night, the one I jerked off so shamelessly to.
A most delightful feeling shoots down to my groin.
"GENTLEMEN!" I shout, losing control of my voice, startling them all in their seats.
"Erm, sorry, I erm, must cut this meeting short, an emergency has surfaced."
They all look at one another with confused expressions on their faces, but know better than to protest.
Gohan is stood by his seat still, and eyes me suspiciously, while the others get up to leave the room.
"I will have my secretary arrange an appropriate continuation," I inform them, pain and frustration building inside, making me uncomfortably flustered but relieved I'm finally alone.
Only, not everyone has left.
"What's this about?" He asks dubiously, moving closer to where I'm sat at the top end of the table.
"Oh nothing, don't worry about it, I just remembered something," I insist while eyeing him warily.
He's getting too close, I roll my wheeled executive chair away from him along the edge of the large table.
Eyeing the paper I've clutched in my hand, he moves closer again.
"Let me see that," he demands, sounding as if he will find incriminating proof in my drawings of penises.
"FUCK OFF" I cry and roll my chair for dear life to the other side, tossing obstructing chairs backwards out of my way, paper still clutched in my one hand.
His face tells me he suspects I've completely lost the plot. That's fine with me. I'd rather have him believe I'm tripping than revealing the real problem.
But something changes in his expression suddenly. I cock my head to the side as he stares at me wide eyed from across the table.
And with that he slams the door on his way out.
I breathe out, thank fuck for that. Then wonder what exactly changed his mind.
Ah, it dawns on me.
A Saiyan's sensitive senses never fail him – even a lousy Saiyan such as Gohan, he could probably scent my erection.
Not knowing whether I should feel relieved or mortified, I get up and open one of the windows in the large room, climb out and take off home to my apartment where I can rock back and forth curled up in the foetal position while I weep due to the fact that I have indeed; lost my fucking mind.

A little more than a week passes, in a pleasant blur. Though I've stayed away from the bars and clubs and drowned my madness in the safety of my apartment instead.
I brought my laptop home and set up a connection to the office, ordering my secretary to transfer any calls to the temporary line. It worked out perfectly, and saved me from running into that haemorrhoid I can't seem to get rid of; Gohan.
Unfortunately in the silent darkness that I lock myself away in, my thoughts are allowed to run wild.
I wonder where you was when you called your brother, if it was important or just a friendly hello. If you was with anyone, if you look the same.. if .. if you ever wonder about me.
Realising I need something to rid myself of these demons, I get up from the sofa where I'm sat with my laptop and search the glass cabinets for something to effectively kill my brain off.
I fish out a bottle, white rum, it'll have to do and soon I return to finish the business accounts with a large helping of medicine to wash down the pain.
As I'm typing away, an aggressive knock sounds through my flat. I only ever get one visitor here, so there's only one possible intruder.
He pushes past me when I open the door
"Nice to see you too daddy," I mutter, sarcasm dripping off my greeting
He's walking around, as if looking to see what he'll find this time.
"There's no one here," I inform him and sink back down into the sofa.
His eyes snaps to the large glass in front of me and frowns with clear disgust, crossing his arm over his chest.
"What do you want" I ask as I return to typing up endless amount of numbers.
"This needs to stop."
I peer over at him from behind my glasses – the ones I'd never be caught dead wearing outside the safety of my home.
"I'm being good here, no clubs, look I'm pretending to drink water and I'm not high, gotta give me some credit Vegeta."
"You need to start training again."
"U-hu, no can do," I answer with my eyes on the laptop screen.
"And why is that?" he snarls, as if I don't have important things to do! The plants don't exactly water themselves you know!
I sigh and take my glasses off, rubbing the bridge of my nose wishing he'd go away.
"First of all, I'm way too busy, I don't have time to prance about with martial arts. Secondly, I don't need to train, I'm perfectly fine as it is."
"Hn, is that so?" he answer, "You're perfectly fine without any training?" and the scariest grin I've ever seen in my life spreads across his face.
"Yes?" I squeal questioningly rather than insisting, squirming under his glare with a sudden urge to call out for mummy.
Next thing I know, I'm under the rubble that used to be the brick wall of my apartment, some 20 floors down, sprawled on the ground.
"Aow," I whimper and cough out a cloud of dust from the debris.
He descends from the building, arms crossed yet again and smirking. Fucking smirk I fucking hate it.
Even though the sun is setting and darkness is slowly falling, people have noticed that some guy just fell from the top floor of an apartment complex, and the fact that said person – me – is still alive is most likely somewhat of a shock to them.
Vegeta reaches a hand in under the crumbled bricks, grabbing me by the front of my shirt and lifts me up to his level.
Dark eyes are beyond pissed off, I'm pretty sure if I wasn't his son he'd probably have finished me off by now.
"Nothing to see here people, you're interrupting a stunt for an upcoming action movie, come on move it move it!"
Father diverts his attention from my wincing face to the commotion and we both know who's come to dissuade the humans. What is it lately with this idiot, it's like I can't fucking shake him off.
"Hey guys, not the best place to settle family disputes," Gohan smiles warily, most likely shit scared of the infuriated saiyan in front of him.
"This has got nothing to do with you, leave us," Vegeta spits.
"Oh sure sure, I know, but you see I really need that victim of yours, without him Bulma and I will be lost tomorrow morning when one of our biggest clients is coming to view their product, and he wouldn't be of any use if he was half dead, I'll give him back to you straight after, I promise," he smiles and if my skull didn't feel like it'd just been cracked in two I'd have rolled my eyes at the imbecile.
My father tosses me to the ground like a disposed glove, clearly not happy but to my surprise curiously compliant.
"Hn, I think this proves that you are indeed, pathetic," he scoffs, most likely extremely content after humiliating me so "Your training will start next week, whether you want it to or not, boy," and just like that, he takes off.
I live to see another day after all.
Gohan watches as my father disappears in the distance, then sighing he throws my arm over his shoulder and helps me up, but takes us through the doors to the complex as not to rouse any more unwanted attention.
I slump back onto the sofa where all this started not so long ago, feeling rather sore.
"I see you invested in a new window," he comments and motions to the missing wall that was taken out by my head.
I reach for the rum, which is practically calling my name to ease the throbbing in my head.
"You know, you should try drinking something healthier," he says as he looks at my choice of therapy disapprovingly.
"Why are you here?" I answer, ignoring his advice on how to be a perfect citizen.
"I came to tell you about tomorrow, there was no answer on the phone and we need you in the morning, Bulma asked me to make sure you'll be there."
"Fuck," I grumble, rubbing my head - feeling like it's about to explode.
"Why don't I make you some tea instead?" he suggests and goes over to the adjoined kitchen in search for something to heat water with.
A steaming cup is soon placed in front of me on the glass table and he takes a seat on the sofa.
Let's not talk about the other day in the office.
"What, erm, got into you the other day?"
"Fucking hell Gohan, do you thrive on being the bane of my life or what?" I cry and run my fingers through my hair.
He scratches his head, pulling at his neatly cropped black spikes probably thinking of another way to extinguish my brain cells.
"I was just worried that's all, with what was going on that morning."
He's talking as if I'm some little girl he's concerned about. Actually, why is he concerned? I glance over my side to where he's sipping on his tea and he smiles when he looks up.
I snap my eyes forward. Why would he come here, how did he even know where I live, he's never been here before. I glance at him again, wondering about his real intentions for coming here.
"Stop looking at me as if I'm planning on killing you Trunks, you need to stop taking whatever it is you take, it's clearly making you paranoid."
There's quite obviously an ulterior motive here, I know your game Gohan. Why else would you be here past your bedtime ey? Missus not quite Mirai-like for you?
"Ok I'll move away, you're starting to freak me out," he says as he gets up, pretending as if we both don't know his twisted agenda.
"Why are you here, really?"
"Gods Trunks, you really have messed up your brain. You haven't forgotten about Friday have you? I'm sure Goten will be happy to see you after all this time."
Now why did he have to go and say that?
"H-how is he?" I ask carefully, forgetting all about my cynicism and feeling as if I'm about to cry any second. Talk about being a little girl. A hormonally emotional little girl.
"He's good, doing well for himself. Runs a club where he lives, for the local kids. Teaches them a bit of martial arts and discipline, helps them stay out of trouble," he answers while he's studying my collection of origami animals in one of the glass cabinets.
A club? For kids? I'd never imagined you doing anything like that. Suppose in my perfect world you'd be sat on the sofa for the rest of your life playing video games with me while I supported both of us. I never did consider what your future dreams were.
"So he doesn't live around here any more?" realising you've left the city, and I hadn't even noticed.
"He lives about 50 miles up north, nice little place. I'm sure he'll tell you all about it when we see him anyway, it's better you talk to him."
I look up at Gohan from my stare out in nothingness, wondering what he means by that. Better if I talk to you? About what?
He sits down again, and you'd almost think he's avoiding my eyes now.
"What did you do this time anyway? To make Vegeta go like that?"
"Not Saiyan enough, not human enough," I sigh as it sums up my life just perfectly.
"Or too much of both knowing you Trunks," he laughs and pats my back and then checks his watch. "I should get going, I've probably missed dinner already, Videl wont be happy," he smiles and gets up, walking over towards my new 'source of natural light'.
"Get this fixed," he says making a motion that indicates the hole with his index finger.
"Ye ye," I mutter, eager to be left alone.
"I'll see you tomorrow morning Trunks, and don't forget about Friday," and with that he takes off into the fiery evening sky.
I feel deflated as darkness and isolation once again take me in. My sharp tongue and impenetrable mask are nowhere to be seen, hell, I'll even admit the embarrassment of going down rather hard from one measly punch.
The temptation to hit the nearest bar in search of a woman who is willing to screw my brains out is overwhelming to say the least, but as my normally clouded mind is painfully lucid right now I decide to finish my work and catch an early night instead. The rum will have to take care of my wandering thoughts for me.
- 8
- 9
- 10
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Insanity