Author:              Kiarene

Pairings:            Vegeta/Mirai

Disclaimer:            Don’t own DBZ

Published:             17th August 2003

Warnings:            Incest. Unbeta-ed.

Archive?            Please ask first. Currently archived at my webpage, fanfiction.net, Yaoi Hotel and a couple of yahoo lists.  

 

 

Sons

 

2nd Scrawling

 

Mirai Trunks’ POV

 

 

I set the time machine down in the backyard, just hidden at the edge of the forest. Capsule Corps is huge, sprawling tracts of rolling grassland and pockets of greenery buffering the offices and well-equipped laboratories from the crowded city just beyond.

 

In my time, the landscape is mostly ugly rubble and ruins. A sight I’m normally inured to, at least until I visit this past time-line again. It is different here, with its unusual juxtaposition of gleaming buildings and verdant vegetation, whole and vibrant and untainted with the ugly spectre of war.

 

I glance around me as I wait for the time machine to shut down, taking in the sparkling multi-colored lights of the cityscape; gaudy advertisements and comforting interior lights of bustling homes, and I feel inexplicably weary.

 

I’m only twenty-five, but sometimes I feel fifty. Today was one of those days, where it just seems that the work would never stop, where no matter how much we do, it doesn’t seem to be enough. I may have defeated the androids five years ago, but the real battle of rebuilding was just beginning. We’ve lost so much…

 

But I’ve not come here to think about such things; tonight’s a rare treat for me. When things just get too much, I’ll sneak back here…

 

Back to Vegeta. Just for one night. 

 

It was perhaps a frivolous waste of precious fuel, but tonight, I didn’t care. I just wanted to see him again.

 

Vegeta. My father.  Though I couldn’t think of him that way...

 

When I first visited the past and saw him, I kept calling him “father”, almost as if I was trying to convince or remind myself of our kinship. It was hard; though I had this mental image of my father ever since I found out about him, I had a hard time reconciling my expectation with reality. I never grew up with him and he was like a stranger to me, cold and bitter and distant…

 

A very attractive stranger who was also hardly old enough to be my father. Perhaps he was the father of the squalling babe in Bulma’s arms (I cannot think of her, in this time-line, as mother as well), but he wasn’t really my father. I gave up thinking him of ‘father’ and started discovering him as ‘Vegeta’, and that opened up its own can of worms.

 

On his part, Vegeta was very irritated when I kept calling him father too, and it was to my delight when I found out just why.

 

Now, he is my lover, my mate.

 

We promised to each other the night before we left the Room of Spirit and Time, and again the night before I returned to the future. We have responsibilities; I have mother and he has Bulma and his infant son, and we have agreed to wait. We hate this, but we are also of the royal bloodline and duties are very important to us. Vegeta told me once, that it was bred into our genes. I grin in amusement, remembering his subsequent insulting remarks. That was why Son Goku could leave his wife and son, even if he loved them very much, and that was also why Vegeta won’t leave his family here.

 

And so we wait, even though it is agonizing for us to be apart.

 

A continuous beep startles me from my thoughts, telling me that shutdown was complete and it was safe to leave the time machine. I’m out of the machine even before the beep dies away. Flying rapidly across the lawn, my grin widens in anticipation and just a couple of seconds later, I’m hovering outside his window.

 

I spike my ki and tap the window as I peer in, seeing only my mate and a small figure curled up asleep on the bed. Vegeta nods, indicating that it was safe to come in, and I slip in quietly.

 

“Any particular reason for dropping by?” Vegeta puts down his book with a smile and a lascivious gleam in his eyes.

 

“Do I need one?” I leer, already pulling off my jacket. I had been exhausted, but now I feel very revived. Kami, I missed him so much…

 

“I just missed you.”

 

“Go take a bath first.” He laughs softly and crosses over to the bed. “I’ll put the brat back in his room.”

 

I pause, looking at the sleeping boy with a pang of envy. “Does he sleep with you often?”

 

“No. But the brat likes to sleep here, even though he has his own bedroom.” Vegeta picks him up gently and my envy sharpens. Not because I was really jealous; he’s just a boy and I know Vegeta has no sexual designs on him, even though we’re technically the same person. No, I’m just bitterly envious because he lives here, with Vegeta every day.

 

I laugh softly and mirthlessly, as I peel off my clothes, folding them neatly on a chair. I’m envious of myself and I wonder if he knows just how truly fortunate he is. 

 

Stepping under the steam with a sigh, I luxuriate under the pounding water. We don’t have this back home as well; we have tepid, drizzling showers. Oh, but this… This is heavenly. I quickly work up a lather, almost moaning as the grime and dust of the exhausting day is removed away by the lemony shower gel that Vegeta likes. If he has a spare bottle lying around, I would nick it and bring it back with me.

 

Then again, perhaps not… It would only make me heartsick for Vegeta.

 

I was about to rinse off when I feel him enter the bathroom. Grinning to myself and keeping my back to him, I change my mind and continue running my hands in slow, sensual strokes over my skin, sweeping over my arms, then torso. Sinking my fingers into my hair again and massaging vigorously, I actually purr.

 

I even wriggle my bum.

 

He knows what I’m up to, but he doesn’t rise to the bait. Instead, he remains where he is and actually manages to strike up a calm conversation. Bastard. Sighing, I give up and push my libido down for now. We exchange news and bring each other up to date on what’s happening in our lives. I rinse off, reluctantly leaving the glorious hot, hot water, and reach for a towel.

 

He’s more interested in what’s happening on my side; I guess he misses the action-filled days of his youth, and soon, I’m excited as well. There’s nobody back home with whom I can talk to about fighting and such stuff – mother doesn’t know very much – and Vegeta’s very experienced and knowledgeable.

 

Backing towards the bed, Vegeta pulls me down with him. “So with the lack of opponents in your time, you came back to spar?"

 

“Some horizontal sparring maybe.” I sense the sudden change in mood and grin, crawling on my hands and knees over him. Crouching over him, I am somewhat startled as I’m once again reminded of his slighter size. Obviously it has been too long. In my mind, Vegeta always seem to loom over me… Half-forgotten musings from a fatherless childhood I suppose.  

 

“It’s been so long, I’ve forgotten. Show me again, sensei.” I dip my head with a mischievous smile, automatically falling into the submissive role.

 

And he does. Before I could blink, he executes an impossible twist, flipping me over. A smirk plays about on his lips as he traps my wrists above my head. “Don’t get cocky, boy.” He grinds his hips against mine with a low growl that goes straight to my groin, and my cock jumps.

 

I squirm under him, desperate for more bodily contact. “Let me go, I want to strip you… touch you...”     

 

For a few exasperating moments, he appears to ignore me, his smirk smug as he moves sinuously above me. I feel the urge to whine in pure frustration as I tug my hands ineffectually, my brain turning too rapidly to mush for me to coordinate. “I want to touch you… please… miss you…”

 

“Shut up and kiss me,” Vegeta growls in a teasing, chastising tone, and he releases my wrists. Immediately, I cup his face with my freed hands and pull him down for the kiss I’ve been dreaming off since I climbed into the time machine. Reality is much better than my imagination; the kiss is hot and wet and fierce, a reclaiming of mates, and it literally draws my breath away.

 

He pulls away to nibble behind my ear and I arch my throat wantonly in invitation. My hands glide down his back, tugging his shirt free and running happily under the fabric to rediscover the silky skin underneath.

 

As Vegeta works lower and lower, now licking and biting lightly at the sensitive skin of my collarbone, I tilt my head slightly and bury my nose in the crook of his shoulder, surrendering totally. If his expert touches hadn’t undone me, his glorious scent would. He smells of crackling storms and exotic rainforests: powerful and spicy and musky and sweet. I absolutely love his scent, and I tell him just how much I do.

 

He growls, lifting his head for a moment. “You’re just going to yak?”

 

I lick his nose playfully. “No, I’m going to strip you and then…”

 

“And then I’m going to fuck you through the mattress,” he interrupts, clearly impatient, and I laugh. Of course it isn’t just going to be that, but he always complains I talk too much in bed, that I can put my clever mouth to better use. He purrs arrogantly at that proclamation, a rumbling sound that sounds so utterly feral I feel weak.

 

He sits up, dark eyes flashing as he pulls his top off. The towel is yanked from my hips and then my legs are thrown over his broad shoulders. When he tongues me, laving the sensitive underside of my cock and balls, I stiffen with a moan, back arching tautly and my fingers dig insistently into his powerful arms as I plead and demand for more.

 

He ignores me.

 

Instead, he hoists me higher and his mouth moves yet lower, hands kneading and spreading my ass. When slick thumbs slide into me, opening me yet further, I buck and twist like a rabid animal. But I’ve little leverage in this exposed position and I’m completely at his mercy until I’m a sobbing, begging, broken heap of tingling nerves.

 

Only then does he relent.

 

My lover lowers me back down carefully, and reaches blindly to the bedside table drawer for some lubricant while kissing me deeply again. He lowers his pants but doesn’t bother to take them off completely, the tight expression on his face telling me that he is close as well.

 

Me, I’m too far-gone to feel any satisfaction that I can do this to him, without actually doing anything to him. Instead, I’m mewing shamelessly like a cat in heat, spreading my legs wider as I writhe impatiently on the bed. 

 

When he slides in, a low keening moan resonates between us and I realize it came from the two of us. I sigh blissfully and wrap my legs around his waist, drawing him yet deeper. My hands slide up his shoulders, gripping tightly and he smirks down at me. My breath catches momentarily at the gorgeous sight, my gaze lingering over his handsome features, exotic and so regal…

 

And then he starts thrusting. Powerful, rolling motions that sent a jolt of pure pleasure lancing through me with each long stroke, a toe-curling, shivery and very carnal kind of sharp ecstasy that I want to prolong as long as I could.

 

But it’d been too long, and it was just too intense, and suddenly I am there, right there on the verge, the very edge…

 

…and then I’m falling, tumbling, free falling and screaming in bliss all the way down into the black velvet abyss.

 

When I’m coherent again, I find Vegeta lying on top of me. A limp, purring, cuddly bundle of heated skin, slick with a fine sheen of musky sweat, and ticklish hair. I smile, wrapping my arms around him and bask in the content, well-fucked afterglow until we slip naturally into a deeper, endorphin-drowned sleep.

 

~

 

The next morning, our lovemaking was slow and tender, and my heart breaks again as I steal away quietly before the sun rose.

 

~*~

 

 

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