Author:              Kiarene

Pairings:            Vegeta/Mirai

Disclaimer:            Don’t own DBZ

Published:             14th December 2003

Archive?             Please ask first

Warnings:            Incest. Unbeta-ed.

 

A/N: Trunks is Chibi Trunks, from the regular timeline. Mirai is Mirai Trunks and he thinks of Vegeta as Vegeta, not Father.

 

Sons

 

4th Scrawling

 

Mirai Trunks’ POV

 

The time-machine lands softly in the darkened clearing. Though I’m bone-tired, my hands fly over the keyboard swiftly, absently in familiar motions and take the machine through the shut-down sequence.

 

I jump out, hitting the ground a little too hard in my tiredness. Turning back to the machine, I then did something I had rarely, if ever, done. Opening a small hatch reveals an almost comical-looking large red button. Almost expecting a fanfare or some equally dramatic event instead of the occasional cricket chirp to mark this important moment, I press it deliberately.

 

My time-machine folds up into some pocket of hyperspace with a puff and I catch the white capsule neatly. Staring at the capsule, my mind drifts momentarily. Tonight’s visit to Vegeta would be different. Tonight, it would be forever. I would not be going back.

 

Mother died last week.

 

I had been expecting it — her health had been failing steadily — but it still devastated me. I buried her quietly behind our home and informed the mayor that Capsule Corps would be donated to the city council. And that I wouldn’t be coming back. I spent the last few days putting my affairs in order, and other than my personal belongings and some money, I had left everything else to various charities. Knowing that nobody would really miss me, I then left quietly. Well, they might miss having a half-Saiyajin around to carry heavy stuff like the new fountain, but they wouldn’t miss me.

 

Mother’s death was bittersweet because it also means that I can now be with my mate. From the very start when we had promised to each other, we had also agreed to wait; me for Mother to pass, and him for Bulma and his son. He had told me a while back that he and Bulma had drifted apart and Bulma had got back together with Yamcha, so he is only now waiting for Trunks to come of age. When I had realized that Mother was failing, I had been spacing out my visits, so that more and more time passes back home. The last time I came a month back, Trunks had just turned sixteen. And tonight, I had set the coordinates for my younger self’s seventeenth birthday. That was the official age of majority for Saiyajins, and Vegeta still followed the customs of his.. our people.

 

Tommorrow, Trunks would be considered a full-grown male by Saiyajin standards. Tommorrow, Vegeta would leave his family to be with me. My heart soars at that thought; it was the only thought that kept me going all through last week. It was the only thing that kept me going all through the harsh years in fact. I feel a nagging pang of guilt at separating Vegeta from his family, but I reassure myself that they would be all right. Bulma has Yamcha, and Trunks would have his own family soon. And I…

 

Vegeta.

 

Suddenly, I cannot wait to see Vegeta again. Why am I brooding here, when I could be with him, now? I almost drop the capsule in my haste to pocket it and turning around and leaping into the air with an impatient spring and a blinding grin, my earlier weariness forgotten, I speed towards my mate.

 

~

 

When I awoke the next morning to sunlight in my eyes, I was about to groan when I abruptly remember. Mornings used to mean parting from my mate, but no more. A silly grin steals over my face as I turn towards my lover.

 

“Good morning,” I whisper languidly, snuggling against him.

 

“Mmph.”

 

“Wake up. It’s a very important day today.”

 

“Uungnh.” Vegeta turns around and burrows deeper.

 

“When had you become so lazy?” I tease him as I tug him back around. “Back in the Room of Spirit and Time, you used to be the one who would yank me off the bed in the mornings.”

 

Sleep-slitted eyes glare at me, a hand coming up to shield his eyes with a curse as the morning sun hits his face. “Since some idiot had decided to keep me up half the night. Dammit, who left the curtains open?”

 

I laugh softly, remember how eagerly he had drawn them apart last night when I arrived outside his window. “Come on, wake up. Do you remember what day today is?”

 

Something warm and furry whips about my waist, startling me. Although I had known that Vegeta’s tail had regenerated since my last visit, it still feels a little strange. I love it though. “Of course I do,” Vegeta purrs sleepily against my ear as he throws a leg over mine, trapping me snuggly. “And even more so, I want to stay. In bed.” His hold tightens and he licks my earlobe. “With my mate.”

 

“Vegeta,” I whine, shifting. “I can’t sleep now that I’ve woken up.”

 

“So don’t sleep.” He bucks his hips suggestively, rubbing morning errections together.

 

“I’m still sore too,” I protest half-heartedly. Not that I *really* mind, but still!

 

“Wimpy half-Saiyajin,” he teases. “Back on Vegetasei, we had orgies that lasted *days.*”

 

“I don’t believe that. Days?”

 

“Mmmm. Days.”

 

I run my hand down his bare hip. “Yeah well, you weren’t the one who was fucked half up the wall, over the bathtub and into the mattress last night. I’m sure you aren’t sore…” My fingers trail down the curve of his buttocks meaningfully.

 

A snicker as I find myself abruptly on my back. “The training would do you good.”

 

“I’ve been keeping in training. *Hard* training.” Grinning, I power up slightly and flip him over my shoulder. “But you, I’m sure, could do with practice.”

 

I yelp in surprise as he yanks me into a roll with him and we tumble ass over tea-kettle onto the floor. I land in an ackward sprawl, my groin in his face. A low, sensual growl that rumbles through a certain part of my anatomy was my only warning before wet, warm heat envelopes my cock.

 

Oh. Gods.

 

I mew out loud and shifts to a better position, canting my hips up. For me. For him to touch, to suck…

 

Oh yessss.

 

I bury my head in the crook of my elbow and open my legs further, writhing shamelessly. I’m still slick and relaxed from last night, and his finger, then two, slide in smoothly.

 

“Still too sore?”

 

I whine as the delightful suction on my cock is removed. What’s he saying? I can’t think when he has that up my ass and does that, twisting just like that. “Nonono, oh don’t do that, you’re not playing fair. Oh oh oh! Don’t fucking stop you tease yesss…”

 

“A tease, am I?”

 

I feel him shifting to kneel behind me, I can hear his warning growl, I *feel* his smug smirk, but I don’t care. I push back insistently, lifting my ass up higher as I beg demandingly. “Fuck me now, oh fuck, ple~ase.”

 

“I’ll fuck you when I want.” He delivers a sharp slap to my upraised rump and I yelp again in surprise. His fingers are still curved and flicking within me as he slaps me with his other hand and the stinging pain only excites me further. Harder and harder the blows fall, his heavy tail whipping the sensitive back of my thighs, and I’m so fucking hard I swear my balls are turning blue. Pleas and gasps spill from my lips, coarse and vulgar and honest. I love it, need it just as much as the tender kisses, and I know it turns him on immensely.

 

“How I want.”

 

We are Saiyajin.

 

My cock is dripping and I tried to lower my hips to rub it against the floor in relief, but his grip on my hips is unyielding. I can’t make up my mind: to push back against that gorgeously hard erection I can feel bumping against my ass or to grind downwards, and I rock back and forth, panting and whimpering. When he slaps my hand away as I try to touch myself, I almost wail in frustration. “Please!”

 

“Please what?” God but I love that growl.

 

My hand reaches to my cock again, though that’s not really what I want. “Or I’ll come…” He swats my hand away again.

 

“You’ll come when I want.” A dangerous growl, one that resonates right through me all the way to my cock, just before he spreads my cheeks and slam into me.

 

How I want.”

 

I shriek as he hits just there, my vision is crimson I’m squeezing my eyes so tight, and oh it’s just so very good, so right and I’m screaming, coming and coming.

 

He continues thrusting, short desperate strokes that batters my sensitized prostate, prolonging my orgasm exquisitely and I’m shaking, moaning, almost blacking out. I hear him grunt, shuddering violently, and then the last fond, frustrated thought I had before I passed out was that he got his way to stay in bed after all.

 

~

 

It was almost noon when I finally left Vegeta’s room. I had been totally limp after that last session and Vegeta had woken up before me, gloated at me a bit and tried to goad me to wake up before finally giving up. When he went to take a shower, I promptly crawled up onto the bed and fell asleep again, sticky and sore.

 

Life is good.

 

I had taken a leisurely shower after I woke up, knowing that most of the household would be bustling around downstairs and too busy to notice my absence from the guestroom. Still, I took a wary sweep of the corridors for ki’s before I left Vegeta’s room. 

 

Lost in happy thoughts and a wide, stupid smile on my face, I didn’t register Trunks’ presence until I was walking past him. Startled, I blink at him for a few moments, flustered, before I smile. “Good morning and happy birthday, Trunks.”

 

He look at me steadily, his eyes hard and my smile falters. He is leaning against the wall almost casually, but his carriage is stiff. For some unknown reason, he has always been cool towards me. He wasn’t rude, but neither was he friendly despite my frequent attempts to get to know him better. Vegeta too was puzzled, but he shrugged it off, saying that the purple-haired boy he fathered was also raised by him, that Trunks was just being his father’s son. I have my doubts but I had accepted Vegeta’s reasoning.

 

However, today, Trunks looks and *feels* hostile. His blue eyes had narrowed into icy slits, his mouth a thin, red slash in his pale face. And somehow I know; his masks are dropped and this is how he really feels. Feeling a bit hurt and confused, I try again. “Trunks?”

 

“I heard you,” he drawls. “And Father.”

 

My stomach clenches at his second sentence and I have a sinking feeling. “Trunks, do not blame your father…”

 

“I do not blame him,” he snaps back. Straightening, his glare intensifies. “*Why* are you back here, exactly?”

 

I swallow hard, wondering if I should tell him. “My mother passed away.”

 

“So you’re here to take my family?”

 

Kami. I had a faint suspicion that the boy had been jealous, but I had never realized how jealous. What can I say? I fumble for an answer.” No, I was never here to look for parental replacement figures, I mean I didn’t come to look for a mother…”

 

“No,” Trunks replies coldly. “You just came here to take away my father.”

 

This is getting from bad to worse. Vegeta had not told anybody of his decision to leave with me, preferring to announce it on Trunks’ seventeenth birthday and then leaving immediately, saying that he didn’t want the fuss of long farewells. “Vegeta would always be your father…”

 

That sounds really lame.

 

“Spare me.” Trunks sneers. He turns to leave but pauses in mid-step and his eyes snaps back to me. “I loathe you. I never really liked you, but right now, I fucking hate you.”

 

And with that bitter, acrid statement hanging in the air, he pivots around and stalks rapidly away. I stare at his back in shock.

 

~*~

 

Onto 5th scrawling

 

Back to 3rd scrawling

 

Back to DBZ Yaoi Series





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