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Anything Else Isn\'t Fun	By : chroniclyflaming Category: Dragon Ball Z > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 1630 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Do not own DBZ at all and am making no money off this

Chapter List
- 1-Anything Else Isn't Fun
- 1
The Prompt: Actually, how did Trunks make it for so long, after Gohan died, without also getting killed? Silly little boy. Those androids are playing with you, because you're the only pretty thing left that can actually put up any struggle. Anything else isn't fun.

The fill:

"You know, in the animal kingdom," Juunanagou said knowingly, "What you're doing is called 'presenting'"

The kid could just barely lift his head up, let alone shoot back a witty remark. Right about now it was time to call it quits before he lost too much blood. Shame about that. Really, Juuhachigou shouldn't have thrown him through all those plate glass windows. This was her fault, and he told her so.

"Oh shut up."

"But now we have no one left to play with."

One corner of her mouth lifted. "We'll find another town, Juunanagou."

"It's not the same." He lightly kicked the purple-haired brat's side, and was rewarded with a low moan for his efforts. "See, anyone else on this shitball planet would have died from that."

"Your point?"

"No one even puts up a fight anymore."

Juuhachigou tucked a strand of yellow-white hair from her eyes. "Well, you shouldn't have killed all the fighters."

"You killed most of them!"

"I wanted to spare a few of them. Then you went and killed them."

And the boy just laid there, on his stomach, ass in the air. The darker twin giggled a little at the sight. Juuhachigou rolled her eyes.

"You're such a kid."

"But look at him."

"Is he dead?"

"No way."

"He can go on for a while."

"Like that energizer bunny. Yeah."

"Not a bad ass, I must say."

They looked at him for a long moment. Then they raised their heads to look at each other. "Are you thinking-"

"What I'm thinking?"

Then the blonde woman laughed. "No way. That's disgusting. Look at that hair. He's weak."

"Are you saying we should have gone for the stronger half-breed?"

"I guess we shouldn't have killed him either."

"The one-arm thing didn't do much for me. Or the scars."

"Then maybe you shouldn't have scarred his face or blown off his arm."

The two cyborgs put their hands on their waists, surveying the only fighter left.

"He's kinda scrawny." Juuhachigou nudged him with her own foot.

"Yeah, he's not really my type."

"Personally, I'm big fan of brunettes. So long as they don't look like you."

Simultaneously, they sighed. "Well, let's get started."

When Trunks awoke, he expected to find himself either wrapped in an old quilt his grandmother had made, safe, or on stained and torn concrete, bloody. His sight cleared, revealing that the blue and green object was not his stuffed elephant, but an awfully familiar shoes and socks.

Then his body closed up, preparing to go limp to sustain their blows. They would bat him around like they were kittens and he was a bug, and then let him crawl away with only his body partially at intact.

Every time he would grit his teeth and go on, hiding tears from his mother who would go into the kitchen to weep in private. One day, they would get bored of him. Or simply kick his chest or spine too hard.

They all knew it.

Something, deeper even than the bruises and cuts and broken bones cried out against that. No matter what happened, he wanted to live. Either from his Saiyan half, he wanted to live. Regardless of pain or shame or fear, he just wanted to survive. They could beat him all they wanted, just let him go to find his mother and their large safe base that still echoed with memories of better times when he'd been an infant.

Or maybe it was the human part of him?

His eyelid peeled apart from each other. The blue and green remained, but there was no person in them. It was oddly disturbing to see those shoes and socks away from their owner, like a severed finger or limb lying on the side of the road. In his underwear, he felt vulnerable and cold. Where were his clothes? What were they doing?

"Hey, he's awake." A boyish voice shouted.

Trunk's eyes fell shut.

The machine affected an accent. "Oh, you can't play possum with us boy. No sirree."

A cold thing touched his chin, snapping him away. It a pale bare toe, and the half-Saiyan could only stare at it. What did this thing have to do with him? Then his gaze headed up. Only dimly did he note the mannequins, the piles of clothes, the racks and hangers.

He didn't know which was worse. Juunanagou in only his underwear, (black boxer-briefs) or Juunanagou in a cowboy hat and underwear.

Then Juuhachigou decided the matter. She stepped out of the back of the room they were in, dressed in matching black panties and bra.

"Good morning." She winked at him.

She looked like something out of Master Roshi's magazines, the covers anyway since his mother never allowed him to look any further. Or the posters that people still hung up, advertising something and using sex to do so.

There had been a dirty movie playing at the rundown theater a few blocks past his house, the title and plot unknown, but he could still remember the petite blonde woman, dressed only in her underwear. He would pass it a few times, stealing glances at it while keeping his gaze mostly on his scuffed shoes or a ball he would bounce. Sometimes, he would concoct fantasies of meeting her or a girl like her, not knowing at all what he would do if he did. Eventually, perhaps his own mother, had complained and it had been brought down.

Most girls his own age were nonexistent, or interested in having kids already. Mom had warned him to avoid woman like that, saying he was far too young to have a child. "It's too dangerous, besides. After the androids are destroyed…" Then most of the girls were getting married with guys who did want to have kids now. Besides, he didn't know what to do with girls anyway. The ones that were single came through to rest in West City, and were scared trembling things, or groping, weeping things.

Somehow, he'd forgotten that Juuhachigou was technically supposed to be a woman.

He'd never even considered them having genitals. They just were. Like mountains and lakes. Or maybe more like trees, that procreated yes, but you never stopped to think about that. You just sneezed because of all the pollen around.

Now Trunks was terrified.

"It's not morning, Juuhachigou." Her twin corrected.

"Afternoon then." She smiled benevolently.

"He's still all bloody," Juuhachigou complained, wrinkling her nose. She left again, coming back with a bucket that made him flinch just from the sight. Trunks braced himself. When she overturned it though, he still found himself shivering from the icy water.

Juunanagou found a towel from somewhere, and was wiping him down. His fingers, warm compared to the water, traced scars. Oh yeah, remember this one. And this one. Ha, you screamed so loudly. The dark-haired twin prodded him, squeezing muscles.

Now he could scream that loudly again. Louder.

Juuhachigou settled down. One on either side, just like when they fought. "I still don't think he's very good-looking. Too much like his father."

"Too tan," her brother agreed. "But I think he's pretty enough."

Juunanagou grabbed his chin, holding him in place. Trunks had never been this closer to him without an immediate ki blast held to his face. Up close, he could admire the angular face, with its small pointed nose, high cheekbones, straight hair and full mouth. Once on the news report, a man had reported two young girls with fair skin going on a killing spree.

But for handsomeness, there were still signs of his inhumanity. Those blue eyes that matched his sister's perfectly were an inhuman light blue all around the irises, not a single fleck or line of anything darker or lighter. He'd never seen anything like that on a person before. And they were still young, no more than twenty even after terrorizing the planet for over a decade and a half.

The synthetic man tapped his finger on Trunk's cheek. He breathed lightly on his skin, making the younger man horribly uncomfortable. A punch or slap to the face would have been better.

"Really. I think he's kinda cute."

Insults over his hair and clothes and strength would have been better.

If Gohan had looked down at this moment, his father, Goku, the other fighters who had bravely sacrificed themselves before Trunks could speak more than fragmented sentences to them. All those faces, ones he knew better than his owns, owns he'd only seen through the bad home videos that Krillin and Bulma had made, or fading photographs, looked down. Their hard or soft faces and dark eyes staring at his half-naked form, at the other two half-naked forms of their enemies. What's going on?

He had no answer to give them.

Especially when in one swoop Juunanagou, who had killed his nice Uncle Yamcha that had given him his favorite stuffed rabbit and was the second person to hold him after he'd been born, bent down and started to suck on his nipples. And what could he say when this creature began stroking himself through his tightening underwear, and asked with a damp mouth, personally, which do you prefer: blonde or brunettes?

"Red-heads," he managed, one arm twitching before reaching out to punch Juunanagou in the face.

Then Juuhachigou appeared in a flash of pale skin and hair. "Oh, no. None of that." She took his larger, scarred hand in her own small perfect one.

"We need his hands." Juunanagou reminded her. Saving him from having to spend weeks opening things with his elbows and left hand.

"Fine." Instead of shattering his hand and crushing his wrist, she gave a strong squeeze around his forearm. Immediately, it began to ache and he knew the bruise would last for at least several days.

He wanted his mom, and Capsule Corp. He wanted to be away from all this, a four-year-old again, dressed in too big pajamas from Gohan and drinking hot cocoa. One of her big, big friends that towered above him with their kind dark eyes nothing like Bulma's might stop by with a toy, and maybe they would scoop him up and throw him towards the ceiling. He would have traded his soul for this; would almost have traded his own mother for that.

Instead of home, he was forced to watch Juunanagou adjust his cowboy hat and start playing with himself through his underwear.

All the liquid in Trunk's head seemed to dry up, not just the spit in his mouth. His brain felt heavy, drugged. That blow that sent him through the plate glass had really messed up his head.

"I'm not a big fan of foreplay." The smaller man admitted. "So let's make this quick."

"I want him to go slow," his twin spoke up. "Really rub it in."

"I want our first time to be rough though. Rough and quick and shameful." Juunanagou rolled his eyes. "Next time, you two can 'make love.'"

"Oh, stuff it. I just don't want him to get off so easy. We already barely hurt him."

"Hehe, 'get off.'"

Playfully, Juuhachigou shoved him. "Shut up."

They hadn't bothered to tie him up or to anything. Apparently, they hadn't trusted that anything would keep him. Or maybe they were just lazy? He just lay there, in his underwear, on the cold slick cement of the store.

"Look at how pretty his is."

Juuhachigou laughed mercilessly. "Let's make him prettier."

She left to find clothes, just once short glance told Trunks all he needed to know about this situation. His blood was already boiling, tearing through the layer of exhaustion coating his head. They would pay for this. He would smash their heads in just like he had wanted to do the minute they took Gohan away.

As always, they quickly destroyed his plans for vengeance. Juunanagou drove a knee into his stomach, knocking the wind from him, and Juuhachigou pushed him down with one petite foot. In her hands, feminine, frilly clothing hung harmlessly. As she looked at him, her hair nearly fell girlishly to her shoulders.

"What color would go best with that hair? Pink, would you say?"

"No way."

"So pink it is then."

Another slap, a tug of his wrists, a brief struggle that involve Juunanagou biting him and whispering in his ear with a disgusting wink that there was more where this came from, and then the half-Saiyan was on his back, shorts dangling off a cold ankle. Expertly, the blonde machine hooked the bra around his shoulders, and her brother groped him while pulling on a ridiculously small pair of underwear.

They dragged his bruised body to a full length mirror. Trunks didn't recognize his own body. All he saw was a badly beaten young teenager without gender, long limbs with a light layer of gold-touched lavender hair, incased in butterfly printed pink underwear. The underwear was too tight, the bra too loose.

Bulma had always wanted a girl, he couldn't help recalling.

Juunanagou couldn't resist tugging at the strap of the bra, then letting go.

Juuhachigou couldn't stop laughing, not that she seemed to try much.

"I told you he was pretty."

"Where did you even find a cowboy hat," Trunks asked the other man, still dazed. His response back was a confused blink.

In the light, they were both white and unblemished. Balanced on one foot childishly, yanking down his underwear, Juunanagou revealed the pearly underside, touched with pink by the clean toes and heel. Trunks was mesmerized by how flawless his skin was in the abandoned dusty store. He looked at the spotless insoles rather than the penis lying between the thin legs. The color of it reminded him of a boiled shrimp.

It was just there. Taking up space in the universe. Between twp pale scarcely-haired legs, twitching slowly from that black sparse pubic hair just long enough to curl. Arising like a zombie from the grave. He wasn't circumcised, the half-Saiyan was forced to notice, compelled to take note of. Juunanagou was stretching, preening, pulling at himself. The question "you like?" was written all over him.

Trunks did not like.

Then besides him, his twin began to undress. She undid her bra strap very easily, reaching behind her gracefully like this was all a casually planned event. This strap would come undone, her breasts would be revealed, then she would stop by the mall for some jeans and a quick bite at the food court. The way she slid down her underwear was sophisticated.

Classy, how she almost looked, smirking in an empty retail store. Like Juunanagou, she was touched with pink in places. His eyes were unable to not notice those spots, elbows and breasts, between her thighs under the short gold hair, knees, feet. Both their bellybuttons were slanted black dots on the slim lightly muscled stomachs.

She grabbed a handful of his hair, holding him in place. "Do you think we're pretty? I know you do, of course. But I want to hear you say it."

Juuhachigou was cute, if she'd been a completely different creature past the skin. He almost wasn't as immediately revolted as he was with her brother. There was no complete visceral disgust. But he still had no urge to look at her; Trunks just didn't want to vomit at the sight of her was all.

Compared to the light beige faceless mannequins, they were shockingly vivid, bright and dark.

"I think he'd look better as a blonde."

"Don't give him ideas. If he powers up, he might think he has a chance."

Her brother touched his chin, holding him. He stroked the half-Saiyan's face, making Trunk's flinch with every seemingly kind pet. The cowboy hat shadowed his face, leaving a tanned pointed chin and perfect teethed smile.

"Stop it!"

He was rewarded with a cold giggle, then a kiss on the cheek. Then another as Juuhachigou descended on his other side. Bizarrely, it was like fighting them. As soon as you had your eyes completely on one, the other swooped in to hurt you.

Juunanagou stood while his sister turned her kisses downward.

"If you refuse, we'll kill you."

He was so aware of his beating heart, his lungs filing and blood being pushing through organs that broke down his breakfasts, eggs and toast and extra ham and a big glass of milk turning it into waste and protein and energy that had allowed him to be there at that moment in the first place. The system couldn't break down and be stopped. Not him. He couldn't die.

Everything else in this world was dead, but no, not him. His mother couldn't handle such a thing.

The darker male twin held himself out, pushing the tip towards Trunk's face. Its idiot drooling annoyed him, and the dark slit smelled faintly of pennies and fish. He wasn't going to put that thing in his mouth. Juuhachigou's hair brushed his sides.

The machine seemed to know this, as he didn't ask for him to. He just reached out and grabbed his nose. "You'll have to breathe sometime."

Meanwhile, his sister was concentrating on kissing, sucking, licking all of his scars. They burned from the attention, as half of them at least were from her. Her tongue was hot against his cold skin and her hands went to his thigh, stroking him just as her brother had touched his face. When she finally touched his penis, the shock of that made him finally open his mouth to gasp.

Neatly, Juunanagou pushed his penis into Trunk's mouth, the hand still resting on the larger man's head. He shivered, and Trunk's could see his toes curling. "If you bite, so will Juuhachigou."

The blonde head nearing his lap nodded quietly.

That penny smell increased, and now he could event taste it settling in the back of his throat. It stretched his mouth apart, and he knew that his jaw would ache soon. Apart from this, there was the owner of this ridiculous thing telling him to use his tongue, his hands. When he pulled his hands up to push the other man away, the android took them and directed them to the base of his penis. "Come on, I know you're better at it than this. What were you and Gohan doing all that time, anyway?"

"Fuck you," Trunks spat. He could see Gohan's face, stern, frowning at his apprentice that could never keep up with him. He was just a disappointment to the older half-Saiyan. A sob nearly choked him, more penetrating than Juunanagou's cock had been.

"Aw, he's crying. Cheer him up, Juuhachi."

"Just keep him quiet," she told him, darkly.

Then she was taking him into her mouth. It was disturbing to watch a part of him disappearing past her lips, like she was eating him. Her mouth wasn't large, and she could only take so much in. With her hands she touched him, squeezing. Somehow, despite her intimate contact, it wasn't affection. Never did her light blue eyes meet his, while her brother could not stop looking at his face.

"Hurry up. If you're good, you can live. We promise." Juunanagou held up two fingers, making a pledge. He winked at Trunk's playfully, "Maybe we'll buy you dinner afterwards."

Gohan was dead and gone, and he needed to live. For his mother, for him. Neither of the androids said anything when the tears trickled wetly down his cheeks, since he was silent about it. Juunanagou only rubbed his penis against his face, cooing. "Use your hands. Those nice hands."

He used his hands. He did whatever they wanted. When Juuhachigou told him, frustrated, to just finally get hard, he closed his eyes and thought about that girl on the poster. If he pretended, that's what she was. And the stiff red flesh being shoved down his throat until he choked wasn't a penis. It was just something that had to go in and out of his mouth. Like a thermometer.

"Move. On your knees."

He spat, he shifted. He did whatever they wanted. When Juunanagou kissed him, he kissed back because he could feel the threat of the hot ki boiling in the smaller man's hands. Just a thermometer. Or maybe a pretty girl, with sweet smelling hair that felt silky when it brushed Trunk's face. They kissed, the dark-haired man growling into his mouth, shifting to move while trying not to break the contact.

Behind him, Juunanagou started to kiss his back, and Trunks bucked. It was better than fighting. All of this was. Better than running and dodging and so afraid, so afraid he would die but then it would simultaneously be a relief because there wouldn't be any more fear. Being so terribly aware of his body because it meant that he might lose it any minute. The pain that blinded him and wiped away any pride or shame and Gohan's sad scarred face. This was better and he would do this a million time to avoid ever feeling that terror again.

He was almost kind, while she was demanding and relentless. Better.

Something hard and hot and wet caressed against his lower back, and Trunks lost himself. Anything. He held Juuhachigou's head in his lap and kissed her brother. The other man's mouth tasted of something sweet and harmless. She pulled away and Juunanagou was nibbling his shoulders, rubbing his nipples, touching his chest and stomach. "You like?"

Trunks nodded, mindlessly. He was only hard through sheer force of will, not unlike having to attempt to turn Super Saiyan for the first time. Then he'd had to hold his rage consciously, forcing himself to search for his anger. Now he thought on pretty girls with clear skin and kind smiles, ones that he could now never be with. It was as though they had changed his DNA, marked him more than they had Gohan. He was theirs now; how could he be near anyone normal, anyone human?

Juunanagou cupped his testicles, squeezing lightly and tugging gently at his pubic hair. "Relax," he kept repeating, relax, repeating over and over. He purred it into the other man's ears, kissing his temples, his forehead, the tip of his nose like his mother used to. The tanned teenager nuzzled him, and told him how nice he was.

The half-Saiyan nearly laughed, but settled for just trying to breathe.

Juuhachigou was turning her back to Trunks, shoving herself into his lap so he got a face full of blonde hair. She smelled not unlike her brother, but without any sweat and more like vanilla. The twin without any masculine odors. Against him, he could notice her smooth skin, and touched her breasts unenthusiastically while the darker man whined.

"Don't just touch her. So what if she has boobs? They're not that great."

"Juunana! Shut up!"

"They're not that big even!"

If Gohan had done anything like this, would he have lived?

Sandwich between them, Trunks just went limp except for one single part of him. Strangely, though at first he wanted to vomit at the sight of him nude, he would have preferred Juunanagou. Juuhachigou hissed threats and insults, and took forever to adjust herself comfortably. Her brother stood behind Trunks, hard and ready without any complaints.

It would hurt. already his older cuts and scrapes that still needed to be scabbed over burned from the salty sweat on his body, and the torn pulled muscles ached from being pressed so firmly into the two androids. But he understood that more pain was about to occur, and could only brace himself. Any scraps of the girl's underwear they'd forced him into were long gone.

Better, better than dying or being tortured. Losing an arm.

"Wait. Shut up. I'm trying to think of someone cute." She clapped her hands. The noise seemed to echo through the empty store. "Got it. Let's continue."

She was wet and warm, feeling like velvet. It shocked him, how someone so cold and unfeeling could respond to him like this, and be so comfortable inside. "Mm," she mumbled to herself instead of him. This was just a step above masturbation for her. Just using him to get off, and hardly acknowledging his existence. Was really better than Juunanagou kissing him and making eye contact, making him feel comfortable? Sliding into her was physically exquisite, nothing he'd felt before, and Trunks tried to shut down his brain.

Just animals. That's all they were. Animals. Better than death.

Juunanagou kissed him again, licking drops of sweat on Trunk's face, "I can still taste me in your mouth," he whispered. The other man shivered, feeling the warm fingers press into his back, trailing downward.

Juuhachigou was shoving her hips against him, grinding his pelvis.

"Relax. Relax."

That thing was entering him, forcing his legs apart and a whimper past his throat. Blonde hair in his face. Someone spitting, wetness where Juunanagou's fingers went. Blood? "Come on you fucker. Can't you do anything?"

"Relax."

He was blind except for the gold silk in his eyes, moving up and down. The mannequins were watching them. Trunks started to laugh. Pain and grunting swallowed the world.

"Relax."

There was blood running down his thighs, and he was being forced even further into Juuhachigou. She mewled, ignoring everything, her hands touching only herself. Animals. Juunanagou was grabbing his hair, pulling his head back. Name that wasn't his in his ears. Trickling down his thighs.

"You've got to relax."

Hands on his shoulders, massaging. "I like your hair." Trying to kiss Juuhachigou, and only getting an elbow to the face instead. Juunanagou's boyish laughter. Getting entered and then feeling it removed, in and out, like that thermometer. Holding her hips. Who was her missing lover, and what had happened to him?

"Fucker." Nails in his skin. Kisses. He couldn't feel anything except for the pain. Why were they like this?

Her pulling away, leaving him chilled. Then being stretched out further for an eternity of a minute. Slammed backwards repeatedly. "Damn. Should have done this earlier." All that wetness in him, coming from the android. It wasn't motor oil. How human could they be?

"Hurry up. I'm done."

There were still hands on his waist. Still in him. "Whew. Fun."

Trunks himself was still half-hard and entirely unaroused.

Juuhachigou reared back a fist and punched him in the face. Multicolored stars blossomed before his eyes, covering the androids, taking everything in his sight away. He swallowed blood, blind, feeling Juunanagou slipping away from behind him. "God, that was satisfying. Better than the sex."

Trunks landed on the cement, flinching at the coldness against his hurt backside. Blood sticky on the back of his thighs and the floor, staining the rest of his legs.

"Sorry about the lack of lube. Didn't think ahead." Juunanagou shrugged, slightly guilty. He pulled on his disregarded shirts, both of them still together, not one at a time and everything was blurring further. Juuhachigou pulled on her tights. It looked like she was pulling on her real legs. Denim skirt and pants yanked on. Finally, before taking off, Juunanagou came over to him.

"We have to do this again. Here, never let it be said I didn't give you anything."

Then they left, going through some backdoor and leaving him behind on the floor, dressed only in a cowboy hat.
- 1
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