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Competition	By : chroniclyflaming Category: Dragon Ball Z > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 1480 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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Chapter List
- 1-Competition
- 1
The Prompt: Future Trunks/Goten/Trunks

Based on some comments for the fills for the Future Trunks/Goten prompt. Several anons said that they would like to see both Trunks and Future Trunks competing for Goten's affections. Goten realizes what is going on and he subtly encourages the competition since he likes the attention and he is just devious like that.

The fill:

A/N: So, here's the sequel to Doppelganger. But it's not necessary to have read that story to really understand this one.

You and I can conquer distance

Space and time and mass resistance

And I really must insist

You come with me my dear

Come with me my dear

There is no one loves you better

Than me my dear

Exhaustible, Devotchka

Trunks, both of her Trunks,' had taken to crying in the shower lately. Loudly. Making their father turn at the table and look upwards towards where the bathroom was kept, a disgusted look on his face. And since there were two boys in this house going through the midst of a breakdown, this tended to happen twice a day. They both cried the same way, as well, though the older Trunks' voice was a little deeper and more ragged. But both went, ahaheheh, oh god, ehehe, why, oh god oh gawwwhd my liiiiffeee-

Made you wonder how much was genetic, and how much was her own influence.

If they heard the eerie imitations they did of each other, it never seemed to stop them from repeating what the other would sob.

Her poor sons. And all this, over just one Son.

"Oh, Vegeta. Let it go. They're going through a rough patch."

"That's no reason to sob. They're ruining breakfast."

"Just ignore it. Appreciate the silences more. That, and how normal Bra is becoming in comparison."

Her husband smiled, immediately cheered.

"So, Trunks, are you going to buy me a new car? 'Cause the other Trunks said he was, but not if you were going to...and I was totally going to give the person who gave me one a long ride..."

Trunks nearly dropped the phone. "Uhhhh. I'll be right there."

He'd come here, Trunks remembered, to collect the dragonballs and wish the people from his timeline back to life. That, or find the coordinates to New Namek and bring back a new guardian. Possibly both, if he was lucky.

He was not lucky.

In any sense.

His time in this timeline could be as unfortunate as the future one he'd been born into. Yes, no psychotic android was running around killing everyone, and yes it was good to see everyone again and look on how well all his old friends' lives were going. Krillin in particular was a changed man, all calm easy smiles and contentment. With a wife and happy normal kid. Trunks deeply envied him for finding his perfect match. Regardless of whether or not it was with an android who shared a face with a monster that haunted his nightmares still, making him wake in a cold sweat and wish that he had someone nearby to comfort him. Someone to be there, instead of having to hug a stuffed animal that someone would sneak into his bed as either a joke, or to comfort him and show how much they cared; Trunks still wasn't sure which.

On the whole 'perfect match' front, the tall man found himself both overcome, and lacking. He also found himself breathlessly excited, and crushingly disappointed all throughout a single day. Calling Goten, hearing his wonderful voice, the way he laughed and giggled without a shred of self-consciousness, and then hearing him call over to the other Trunks, "Say, you wanna go out for pizza with Trunks? Your brother?"

"He's not my brother!" The two purple-haired men would shriek.

"Oow. Okay. Fine. But pizza? We all want pizza right?"

Then all three would sit down a meal of cardboard and slime, glaring at each other over Goten's head, telling the other to just back off. It was pathetic, both knew, but did their best to hide such feelings of depression from being expressed on their similar tanned faces. Goten made sure to include them both in the discussion. They'd fight over who got to cover the bill.

And then they'd take Goten out for desert, jockeying over who got to pour whipped cream down the teenager's throat and make him laugh while blue eyes turned glassy. From there, maybe the mall to buy him another brand new wardrobe, or to someplace quiet with vague hopes and dreams, or to the movie wistfully hoping for there to be less clapping from Goten over the explosions, and more handholding.

All for naught.

Goten was a cruel, sensitive, sweet young man who had learned from perhaps his mother were to drive the knife in the most painful places. The way he'd rub a knee against your leg while sitting someplace, or how his hand would grab your arm and he'd look up at you, and ask what you wanted to do. Trunks would have liked to say that he only did this with him, but that was probably a lie. The sound of him laughing, delighted, in your face over your brief joy that came crashing down when he'd begun speaking of another man. Because oh yes, there were implications of other boys with luxury cars and cute girls he could safely bring home without freaking his mother out. Possibly.

The winks and new, tight clothes.

There were tiny little things that kept him, and he supposed, his 'twin' crawling back. The secret smiles, "I feel like I can really, really talk to you," "it's funny how you two look so much alike, but are so different. Kinda like me and my Dad…" And it was riveting to hear him talk about Goku, the man he'd been raised to emulate and who'd just popped up when he was nearly ten. "Out of the grave and into our hearts again," Goten had laughed, nervously unconsciously touching a wrist incased within a long-sleeved shirt.

No one had such a strange, strained relationship with the man. Not even Vegeta. Everyone else was used to him and had assigned him roles that Goku conformed to ('Hero' in Trunks' own case), but Goten had to juggle around the idea that this guy who bore his face was his father whom he was expected to love and be proud of and treat like Gohan did. And presumably, grow stronger than, as Trunks had outranked his own father. Until it became obvious that he was never going to do that, that neither him nor Gohan could do that. But Gohan had gone a different path, one that was his own. And Goku towered above like a monolithic statue.

All this splattering out in bits and pieces while driving or walking around the middle of nowhere. It only made Trunks love and adore him more.

How Goten had leaned forward, "you're like the one that got it all right."

"Oh, no, definitely not." He'd never done well with compliments. And he did his best to ignore the little scraps of "you look so cool in that jacket!" I see why Trunks does his best to look like you!" like a starving man would reject little pieces of food that would only prolong his suffering. He could not survive off the thin affection. Even in his state of confusing adoration and through the love struck daze, Trunks understood this.

Because clearly Goten would end this non-dates and move onto the other, younger, richer Trunks with a sane past and no night terrors of cold blue eyes and men left in puddles of rain water. Any infatuation, if even that, would pass.

Goten was laughing over something particularly witty he'd just said, and Trunks listened to him very closely. There didn't seem to be anyone else there, no other purple-haired man nearby listening, and that was the balm for his blistering soul that a certain half-Saiyan had stabbed on a sharp stick to hang over a fire. Nothing was more precious than the other man's chuckles, as both Trunks knew.

Even that spoiled, pathetic wanna-be version of himself that had never wanted or needed for anything and had about as much honor to fill a thimble. Those stupid unneeded glasses. The moronic shorts. That disturbed, creepy scarf—what the hell was he thinking, wearing that thing? Those green socks.

And to see this pathetic young man who shared his face and voice, to see him running around miserable to live a normal life. It made Trunks want to grab and shake him, to get the miserable brat to understand how lucky he was to have so much. Did he not understand that boredom was infinitely better than a mind-numbing terror that any moment you were going to be murdered, or worse, tortured and left to linger? That there were far worse things than having a job you didn't care much for?

How could Goten not see that? How could he look at him with anything but disgust? Thankfully, Vegeta and Bra were both somewhat in agreement with him, and both of them would make fun of that other Trunks' clothes on a regular basis. Bulma protected him, but that's what mothers did.

But, but Goten, he seemed determined not to pick either side.

No matter how hot he turned the shower up, it never burned away the tears. "Oh god, aha, my life."

"Bra. I need you to help me."

"Screw off."

"Bra. Please. Look at me." He fell to his knees, wearing an expensive suit too, before his annoying kid sister. Even if she was no longer exactly a kid. But she understood relationships and dating, and how to make guys like you without even trying. Just one look could make a boy jump out of his seat and rush to fetch her things. Boys she didn't even like or know.

But his sister hardly looked down at him from her perch atop his desk. For once, she was actually showing more interest in her schoolbooks than in her brother's suffering. "Oh, no, you think I've forgotten about you trying to switch me in the park for another kid? When I was three? Go Team Future Trunks."

"Stop it!"

"Hope he's screwing Goten right now. Against the time machine. Wearing those boots you totally stole from him."

Even his own sister had turned on him. Gohan preferred Future Trunks, obviously, always going out of his way to be all buddy-buddy. Chi-Chi might prefer him to that imposter, what with him having money and all, unlike that broke bum who lived here because Mom was too nice to kick him out. Goku was pleasant to goddamn everyone. Vegeta so obviously preferred his other, older son whom he actually would train with and probably have long deep conversations where he revealed his soul and how proud he was of the man before him—thank god he wasn't like that other Trunks.

This room was his only sanctuary anymore. The other Trunks never came in here, not once. Probably thought he was too good and special and badass to work a normal desk job. Looking down that exact nose that Trunks had to see when he scrutinized himself in the mirror, looking for the physical differences between them. Oh, yes, right, he was skinnier. That really helped. Well, and younger too. Closer to…

"Why, Bra? Have I been a bad brother to you? Lately?"

"Yes."

"Because of telling Mom how you snuck out Tuesday?"

"You did what?"

"And I apologize for that."

"You suck!" Bra knew exactly where to stick the knife. "But not like Future Trunks does to Goten."

"It's not about that—do you really think they're a couple?"

"Every time I run into Goten, he can't shut up about Good Trunks."

"That's not his name!"

"It's the name Goten calls him, when they're in bed together."

"They are not—not that I care. Really. Okay. Goten should be with someone more his age. More normal." He ran a hand over his head, remembering how he'd once been the only Saiyan guy with hair this color. It should have looked ridiculous on the other older Trunks, with his steely hard looks like some hero from an action movie. But it didn't. He gave that hair color dignity, somehow. When he'd popped out of that time machine with a wary look and a sword he knew how to use, all dashing in the bright light that made the others cover their eyes. Too badass. Like he was mocking you for trying to mock him. He'd grown up and helped save this world then went back to his own horrible desolate one to save that timeline as well.

Even if all he'd done was give Goku medicine, and it had taken him a pitifully long time to go Super Saiyan. Everyone had welcomed him back so quickly, even though he could (and was) an evil doppelganger here to ruin the other Trunks' life. But no one seemed to care about that, eager to show off the cool stuff they had in this timeline and the new kids that had so flabbergasted the older man. So happy to have him back. The Good Trunks.

"God, you're pathetic." His sister's voice brought him back to now. Sounded just like his father. No, both parents. "Are you crying?"

"I just don't understand why everyone prefers him? I'm the real one, the one everyone grew up with. The good one. I'm running the company, along with Grandpa. Don't I deserve some respect? Haven't I been through shit too? What, do I need to destroy some androids for people to like me?

"He is no better than I am. Worse, probably.

"…Bra?

When he looked up, he was completely alone.

He couldn't keep playing defense against someone like his evil twin. The bastard, the old bastard, was too wily for that. Too used to playing defense against the androids, and knew how to counter a blow. He had to go all offense, and make his move on Goten. But his future counterpart was there at every dinner, sitting to Goten's other side at every movie, and for all the quiet little moments of peace he and Goten shared lately, the other half-Saiyan would end up spending an afternoon alone with the older Trunks whom everyone was gushing over. Perhaps literally, in Goten's case-If his sister could be trusted, and she could not.

When he showed up at midnight before the Sons residence and outside his friend's room, with a stereo and a CD full of Goten's favorite sappy love songs, the other Trunks was there, with a guitar. They'd both just stared at each other, music drifting out of the stereo until Chi-Chi had yanked open the window to scream at them both to get away from her house. Both he and the other Trunks, regardless of how much they despised one another and the age and timeline differences, ran like scared rabbits.

Plus they had to share a home that was large, sure, but the world wasn't big enough for more than one Trunks. Even as Bra rolled her eyes as they'd glare at each other across the living room, and their mother tried to ignore all the tension, and Vegeta would tell them just to fight it out, they couldn't handle even looking at each other.

His arch nemesis and evil twin. Who looked far too heroic in that stupid short jacket and boots he did not look better in.

So Trunks personally thought he deserved a little leeway, rather than someone bounding at the door, while he cried in the shower and tried to hold the soap in a firm grip rather than let it fall to be slipped on when attempting to retrieve it. He did deserve that much. Perhaps he couldn't swing a sword that well, and he didn't have a dramatic past to help his rep, but did that mean he wasn't allowed peace to weep quietly? "Why me? Why am I being punished? Oh, oh god."

Sadly, disturbingly, it was their father that sat them down to talk things out. His look was of disgust aimed at his son, and his other supposed son that had been nothing but a disappointment to everyone. "I'm sick of the sobbing."

"What crying?"

Their father glared at them until they stared down at their stomachs. "Why are you even fighting?"

"He started it."

"Just look at him. Those ridiculous socks." Trunks sneered across the table.

"We all hate the socks," Vegeta nodded. "Of course. The boy's has poor taste in clothes."

"Hey!"

"But to outright hate him because of that…there are far better reasons."

"That's not fair!"

A black-eyed look that neither had quite inherited, even if their little sister had it down to an art. "You two are both Saiyan princes, and need to conduct yourself as such."

The ungrateful boy before him rubbed at a knee beneath the table, bored. "Are you giving a 'family is important' speech, Dad? You haven't done that since Bra tried to stick my hand down the garbage disposal."

"I know, Father." He sighed. "It's more than that. About Goten…" The name thick in his throat and sounded amazing coming out of his mouth. Had it brought forth warmth and hope, still, even now. How foolish the heart could be. Made him reconsider his own confusion as to how Vegeta and Bulma had stuck it out despite the screaming matches, and why Krillin had been insane enough not to use that remote controller. Because no matter how unaffectionate and cruel Goten had been, if it came down him or the universe, Trunks would have to sit down and think it out to search for a different solution.

"I don't understand. The Son brat turned you against each other?"

"No, no! Goten…"

"Goten's totally awesome. Nice. Except for the making me buy him a car thing?"

"You bought him one too?"

"You gave the guy a car? Where did you get the money?"

"Mom. Where did you get it?"

"…I worked for it."

"For your mother. And then you bought him a car."

"He said—"

"That he'd give you a…" Suddenly aware of his father, the older Trunks shut his mouth and gave the other man a knowing look that made him nod his purple-head. There was a gleam in both their blue eyes.

"Yep."

"A what?" The Saiyan leaned forward, confused. "Promised what?"

"Nothing, Dad." Younger Trunks waved Vegeta off. "Just give us a second to talk, okay?"

Vegeta threw his hands up, done with the pair of them, and then stalked out of the room shaking his head. They waited until he was completely gone until speaking another word.

"So. He's been getting you to buy him stuff, huh?"

"More and more expensive stuff too."

"And has he…?"

"Of course not."

"But did he imply that…"

"Of course."

"Well." Future Trunks leaned back, looking at his supposed brother with something besides hatred and envy, for once. For a moment, they understood and accepted the other in a way that the older man hadn't felt since fighting alongside Gohan. "That little bastard."

Goten pulled his new leather jacket on, taking a moment to enjoy the smell of it as he pushed the button to condense his car into capsule form. The feeling of the tiny device felt like freedom. He could leave at any point to go wherever he liked, and no one could stop him. Inhaling the summer air made him feel like a little kid again, and he pushed the half-broken tire swing nearby to scare away a dragonfly whisking away.

Though, it was strange to feel so chilly at this moment, in the dead of summer.

Maybe Mom was just pissed off again? Probably Dad.

Or she'd found something really unpleasant hidden beneath the floorboards, something that couldn't be pinned on Gohan or his father. Shame. He let his hands to skip against the tips of the grassy fields on either side of the path that needed to be cut soon. Probably just chalk it up Trunks' fault.

Either of them.

Though, she probably thought better of Future Trunks. It was hard to associate the hard-eyed young man with such hard core debauchery. Goten rubbed his hands together. Freezing, it was getting. Maybe autumn was coming early this year.

It wasn't until a hand came up behind him to casually grab his shoulder and scare the shit out of him did he realize that hadn't been alone out here. "Goten. I'm going to need you to come with me."

"Eh?" The half-Saiyan turned, nearly smiling at the sight of his new friend. Looking up at him, since he was so tall. Impressively built, as well. Goten nearly fluttered his eyelashes playfully at him, knowing how that made the purple-haired would melt at just a simple look.

Such plans were ruined when Trunks grabbed his jaw, and dragged him back towards the trees that would effectively hide him from his house, and from all safety. "Oh, no, Goten. You don't get to so easily escape."

"Uuuuuhhm."

"There's no one here to save you."

Goten didn't get a chance to say anything else because another man was jumping out of the bushes, like a ninja in stupid shorts, to leap onto him. All the air left his lungs, because he knew those stupid shorts, and none of this boded well for him.

Oh. So they'd finally talked. And he'd thought he'd had more time before they realized what was going on.

Ah, well he'd had a good run. Gotten some stuff from it. Had a nice time with the both of them. He'd done his best and now it was time to take his beating, crawl home, and hope that his mother had hidden some leftovers from Dad. Explain that he'd been out sparring with Trunks. Hope to get a few good hits in himself.

Future Trunks was probably going to flatten him though.

They shoved and kicked him through a particularly spike-filled bush, past the clearing of tress, towards the small river running past the house. Oh. Shoved into freezing water. Goten sighed, determined to be a man about the punishment. He'd jerked the two guys around, and they deserved to have their revenge. Probably make him walk home naked, half-frozen, because Trunks (at least this timeline's) was evil like that.

He was shoved to his knees, unable to see the house or even hear anything besides the sound of the running water, and the other men's heavy, creepy breathing. Trunks, the younger one, pulled out scissors.

"Not the hair! Is that what I should be screaming? Go ahead and cut it." Goten leaned back, watching a pair of bloodshot blue eyes narrow.

"You're such a brat! You have to ruin everything!"

"We'll shave your head!" Future Trunks threatened.

"Then it won't get in my face so often," he said with a shrug. "Make me look less like my Dad."

"Oh?" Current Trunks was reaching for his zipper, furious. "Does your Dad do this as well?"

A disgusting, odd question that only made the penis slipping from his pants weirder. He just stood there, awkwardly, obviously physically somewhat uninterested in this entire event. Poor, poor Trunks. You had to feel embarrassed for him. There were literally crickets in the background.

"Trunks. What the hell."

Older Trunks was staring at them both. Mouth open like a dying fish.

The other Trunks, still holding scissors, began to panic. He looked like he was going to cut himself someplace very delicate and then they'd have to carry him to Chi-Chi. Goten rubbed his face, just imagining his parent's expression 'this is why you don't run with scissors'! "What, don't look at me that way. You said we were going to do this. And we're doing it. Okay?

"OKAY?"

"Okay." The other man was nodding, hair hanging into his face. Swallowing, as though his pseudo-brother's genitals were a gun to be waved in a bank teller's face. Summoning up the courage, you almost had to cheer for the guy. If only he had the other Trunks' ability to lie, he would have made a great protagonist in some movie. "We're doing this."

"Yeah, we are! Take his clothes off." He brandished to Goten with the scissors.

Future Trunks nudged the other half-Saiyan. "Take your clothes off."

"You suck at this," Trunks told his counterpart.

"No. He's going to suck at this."

They grinned stupidly at each other, big white grins splitting their tan faces. Delighted at each other's wit. Goten rolled his eyes, just waiting for them to exchange high-fives. If only Bulma had known what she was unleashing when she'd continue to insist that her sons get along and spend more time together. On the other hand, Bulma had a tendency towards cruelty, and might have given them the idea for this.

Still beaming at each other. Again, the crickets chirped. Awkwardly, his timeline Trunks held himself and the scissors, and nearly waddled closer to Goten with his pants nearly falling off. "You heard him, Goten. Strip. Now."

"Mm, dunno." He stared straight on at the darkish penis nearly closing into his face. "Seems awfully cold out."

"You evil little bastard."

"…little?"

"Okay." Like any good older brother, Future Trunks had to step. "That's enough from you. Get the rope."

From the pockets to those dorky shorts, out came a rope. Trunks snapped it, hoping to scare Goten. And it was just normal, average rope. Unless.

"Did Aunt Bulma make that?"

"What? No, of course not. Don't even say her name."

The other Trunks shuddered, then fell to his knees to tie Goten up. His pants fell to mid thigh. Not even wearing any underwear. His pubic hair was lilac colored and looked strange against the tanned thighs. How many times had he imagined himself in this state, if without the ropes? And usually without another guy hanging around, watching them?

Goten nearly told his friend how to make a proper knot, since he didn't have too good a clue on what to do. Future Trunks' breathe was high in his throat, beginning to sound like a teapot. You could see the obvious bulge in his pants, one that made him compare it to the other man's, and then laugh.

And laugh and laugh, until Trunks was grabbing him, wielding the scissors to begin cut apart his shirt. "Help me get his pants off. Then we'll see how cold it is."

Future Trunks was way too gentle for this rough-sex-threesome-in-the-woods-thing. He was even blushing, and Goten couldn't resist looking up and making a kissy face to darken the flush. While the other Trunks cursed and struggled to take his pants and shorts off, tearing and tugging them off in pieces. Grabbing his legs and spreading them, being all cruel while his counterpart was gently cupping him. Rubbing the head in mindless circles, in his nervousness.

Calloused hands running against him, and it was so hard to pretend to show not interest. Though, maybe the guy needed some encouragement. "Oh, no. Don't do that. A little harder, Trunks.

"Yeh. Like that. Because that totally sucks. You're definitely getting your way now."

Hard dry fingers shoved their way inside him, making his yelp come for real. "Kami! Watch it!"

"You watch it!" Then that penis really was being shoved into his face. "Watch it go down your throat!"

"I don't think that's possible—"

"Shut up, doppelganger!"

"I was here first." He sounded mildly irked.

"You know, I'm still here."

"Shut up." Trunks nearly tried to bite him, leaning in to hiss into his ear, "If we didn't need your mouth, we would have brought a gag."

"Like you have any idea what you're doing, Trunks."

"What?" The elder Trunks sounded shocked. "Have you ever done this before, Goten?"

"Don't use his name! Call him, dunno, meat or something. Sex slave? Something. Not his name."

"Speaking of meat, my Mom made pot roast. And some honeyed hams. Bet there's plenty still left from Dad. Why don't we get some?"

Future Trunks was nearly salivating. All of them were suddenly aware of how cold it was by the trickling river. Could nearly smell the roasting, browned food. Maybe a side of potatoes. "Oh god."

"See? He's bargaining."

"But, that sounds really—"

"No!"

"But…I could eat something before this. Pot roast sounds good, doesn't it?"

"Yeah. Sure. Look, after we're done here, we'll get something."

"Okay. After. Right." His voice deepened. "After this."

"Do whatever, and let me get home." He kept his voice dull and disinterested.

"I…" Trunks, who had bigger hands, reached out to pat Goten's head. "I'm sorry about this."

"Don't apologize!" The other purple-haired man was nearly spitting. "This is his entirely his fault. He needs to be punished."

The ropes around his wrist were starting to chafe. "Okay. Do whatever. But hurry up about it. If, you know, you can even control how fast—"

"Shut up!"

"But, have you done this before, Goten?" Future Trunks asked, concerned.

"Yeah. This is usually how I spend my Tuesday nights."

"Really?"

"He's being sarcastic. Jeez." Rolling his blue eyes, nearly giving a look to Goten, like, 'could you believe this guy?' "And you can eat something. If he's good."

"What? Oh. Yeah. That's right." He stared down at Goten, then grabbed him a little more roughly than he had before. Goten couldn't resist grinning in that stupid way. "Would you like that?"

"Mm, maybe? You ever do this before?"

"With who?" The handsome, tanned face was working into its usual scowl. "Everyone's dead in my timeline."

"Sorry."

"Forget we mentioned it," Trunks said. Then he reached down to pull a bottle of lube. From one of his stupid socks.

"Dude?"

Trunks shrugged. "He told me to do it."

Future Trunks refused to look at either of them or explain.

"But, anyway."

Trunks just nodded with Goten. "Right."

Then he grabbed his friend by the hips, lifting him into his bare lap. Goten immediately began bucking, that penis he'd so mocked warm and shoving into him, the hands holding him, and the other Trunks on his shoulders to further cement him into place. That smile he'd done his best to keep, knowing how it would irritate the two men, was starting to slip from his face. There was dirt rubbing into his hair, not a pleasant thing to have to explain later.

To say nothing of the possibility of not being able to walk straight, after all this was done. "You know, I could maybe use that haircut?"

"Shut up." One pair of blue eyes were flickering shut, rubbing into the cleft of his ass that had never felt so sensitive. The other was focused on his increasingly strained face, unsmiling, all serious. As always.

Goten reached up to cup a cheek of that unhappy face. "How come you're not going first?"

"I told you to keep your mouth shut. Trunks, Future Trunks, fill it."

"Don't order me around," he sounded pissy. Goten took that moment to grind himself against the younger Trunks, drawing forth a moan. The way Future Trunks' jaw tightened brought a smile to his face.

"And how come you get to go first?"

"What, you want it to go 'age before beauty'? I came up with this idea.'

"I'm the one that put together he was using us!"

"Hey now. I never said I was going to sleep with either of you. You're just perverts who jump to conclusions. The worse kind of perverts."

Both Trunks looked down at him, lilac hair darker in the gloom. Eyes pitiless. "Is that right?"

"I think I will take your word of advice, other Trunks." His yellow belt was undone with a simple click of a button. The black baggy pants and dark boxers were shoved downward, to match his little 'brother.' There was a joke there, but Goten graciously let it go.

Then another penis was shoved at him. "You like this?"

"It's…interesting?"

"Open your mouth."

"Jeez. That might ruin my appetite, Trunks…"

"Do it right now. I want to hear you beg. Beg for it." Hissing out, stretching that neck out, all the tendons visible. Scaring the hell out of the other two men, basically.

"Holy hell."

"Um."

"Suck it." The tip was nearly shoved into his mouth. Really beginning to appreciate how stronger this bigger, older Trunks was.

Goten looked downward, at his stomach. At his tied hands resting against that stomach. Up at Trunks, with one of his hands on his knee, holding it up, the other on his hip to keep him steady. That Trunks wasn't even looking at him. And the other one had his eyes closed. Right now should have been the moment to snap the ropes and punch both men in the faces.

Had this been an action-esque movie than one leaning towards hardcore gay porn, he would have done so.

"Okay," he told Future Trunks. "Just a little."

The older half-Saiyan didn't know the meaning of the word.

Young Trunks loved it. "Right there, like that. Nice and deep. God, that's so hot. Just shove it down his throat." As his friend gagged and failed to shove the guy deepthroating him away. The tip of it was nearly tickling his tonsils. Also not what he'd expected, when it came to having sex with Future Trunks. Those large hands cupped the back of his head. Why was anyone into bondage and being dominated? Fingers shoved their way inside, pushing, spreading, and the addition of lube did not help as much as porn had previously taught him. He'd rarely felt so helpless.

For all of the jokes, Trunks' dick was bigger than his fingers. Just the tip made him squeal around the penis shoved above his tongue. Goten tried to curl his tongue around that penis, hoping now just to get the guy off before he choked. Or, maybe he would end up choking on the semen. His mother would be so appalled at all this, especially at him dying in such a way. "Oh, right there, just like that."

"Grab him. Do it, Goten." The tip of his cock shoved itself in a little deeper. A threat.

Mumbling only seemed to encourage Future Trunks, whose only sign of mercy was to push the dark hair hanging in his face away. "Wanna watch you. God, Goten."

"Grab him!"

Goten glared at his best friend, grab what? This timeline's Trunks demonstrated, to Future Trunks' garbled scream. "Right there. Grab his balls. Pull him closer."

Future Trunks nearly whimpered at the contact, and Goten did his best not to even think about the Trunks' groping each other in any way. If only they'd been interested in each other, he might have escape unscathed from all this. For better or worse.

His friend, the man he'd literally fused with, was spreading what seemed to be the entire bottle of sickly sweet smelling lube onto the fingers that kept sliding in to his ass, and onto that penis Goten had mocked. Hadn't he used to want this? Dreamed of it in the shower or in his bedroom, with a chair propped against the door? What had happened to that fantasy? Reality, he guessed.

Neither even touched Goten's own penis that lay half-hard against his thigh. And he was supposed to be the tease?

The long fingers were wrapped in his hair, pulling his head back for a better view. A wrist shoved against his forehead, and for a second, Goten wondered if they were going to block his vision too. Future Trunks didn't seem either competent enough, or sadistic enough to do such a thing. Just mean enough to make Goten gag some more on the penis sliding in and out of his lips to nearly reach his throat. Saliva ran down his own chin, and the taste was much more vivid than he'd imagined. Scraping against his teeth occasionally, but Future Trunks didn't seem to mind. There was a heavy, musky odor that reminded the dark-haired half-Saiyan of some kind of animal. The curly rough pubic hair that nearly matched the shade on his head was only an inch or twin from touching Goten's face. That patch of hair kept coming closer, then pulling away, then coming closer. "This is so good. How is your mouth so good?"

"Now I want to try it." Trunks was panting, rubbing himself between Goten's legs, nearly against the other guy's balls and cock. "He's too tight here. It's not fitting."

Future Trunks paused from pretty much fucking Goten's mouth. "You're not trying hard enough."

A pale eyebrow rose. "Wanna switch?"

The older man pulled himself out of Goten's mouth with a gross wet pop. "Yeah. Okay."

For a second, it was a relief. Just to be able to breathe from his mouth again. What if he'd been decongested that day? Totally might have died. Then the other Trunks from the other timeline where everyone had died was actually touching him, playing with him using a loosely cupped hand, and he nearly groaned and closed his eyes. This was more like what he'd been expecting.

But the younger Trunks grabbed his jaw and made him face the dripping cock. It was nearly glistening in what little the evening light there was. "Want you to taste yourself."

"Aw. Trunks. That's so—"

His mouth was pried open, and the darkish, wet penis shoved between his increasingly sore lips. "Shut. Up." Each word was punctuated with a thrust of his hips. All he could taste was some disgusting fruit flavor, ugh, what the hell, oh, oh that lube. Cherry.

Future Trunks was definitely gentler, and while Goten appreciated dearly the hand touching him, he didn't feel so crazy about the new penis shoving against his ass. All his comments were coming back to haunt him. Yet they, the other two guys, were not coming fast enough. The one joke that was not a reality. "Oh, Goten, you really are tight as hell." The rope burns on his wrist were going to be so awkward to explain later.

All the stuff coming out of the two purple-haired men's mouths were definitely like something out of a smutty video. If only he could hit pause or stop.

As usual, his best friend could read his mind and construe it in the worse way. Trunks was grinning, delighted. "God. I would make such a great porn director. Aw, but we're still missing the money shot."

"-And a camera." Was thrown in by the older man.

"Already?" Goten asked, the best he could. Trying not to sound nervous or hopeful.

"What's that? You want me and the other Trunks to fuck her into the dirt? Well. If you say so." His breathe was catching in his chest, all the muscles visible becoming tensed. Pulling out of Goten's mouth completely with a heavy sigh. His doppelganger was meanwhile pushing himself deeper into the dark-haired teenager, inch by slow, slow inch. "Finally. Finally get you. You bastard."

Then he literally came all over Goten's face. "Oh, just like that. All over that mouth. Lick it off."

He was too busy trying not to inhale any of it up his nose to comment. Maybe it was just the cold air, but it was warm as hell against his face, and he was only able to wipe away some of it before Trunks stopped him. "Nope. Have to see you walk around, all filthy. Just dripping.

"Hurry up, Trunks! Aren't you done yet?"

"Some of us have a little control, you know."

"How dare you." Trunks sounded winded. "Just because some of us aren't too uptight to actually ejaculate, Mister, Mister Swinging-A-Sword-Around. Where did you even get that thing, anyway?"

He had just wiped another glob of his friend's semen off his face, trying to adjust to the cock in his ass that was slowly sliding in and out of him, when the world froze to a horrible stop. There was rustling from the bushes that made everyone pause, hoping it was just the wind, a ghost, a wild animal-

Goku stepped from behind a tree, mouth stained red, holding a handful of berries. He stared at the three men, who stared at him with bugged eyes and gaping mouth. "Um. Hi. Goten?"

"Dad?"

"Your mother wanted to check if you were around. Dinner's getting cold."

"Uh. Okay."

Not a word over how strange this was. Even for an alien who had a trouble understanding, still, why he always had to wear pants even at home, this should have warranted a raised eyebrow. He just stood there, politely waiting. Eventually, everyone else realized that he wasn't going to leave. Heads cocked in his direction, and Goku just stared back, innocently.

Slowly, they reached for their clothes, hoping Goku simply thought they had been swimming, or naked wrestling, or something. Goten was both pissed, and relieved to have stopped. Even if he was starting to ache from being left unsatisfied. But that probably wasn't exactly what Trunks had planned. He had to shove the pieces of now-broken rope into a bush and hope his father hadn't seen it.

"At least it wasn't Bra." Trunks consoled himself.

His older twin wasn't so sanguine. "How come everything always gets ruined for me?"

"C'mon." Goten pulled himself up. "Everyone yank up their pants and let's go eat dinner before my Mom comes looking for us."

"At least none of the androids showed up with Krillin…"

"What?"

"You're definitely the crazier one."

"Oh god." Future Trunks looked like he was about to go Super Saiyan. "My life! My shitty life."
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