"Why... why the FUCK Mirai?!" Trunks screamed, catching up to the other as he walked quietly through a suburban neighborhood on the other side of town from the horrors they had witnessed. "Why? I mean, what the fuck are you trying to prove? You're showing me rape victims and freakin' psychos and what am I supposed to learn from that, huh?!"
He growled deep in his throat, clearing it and glad that he'd finally gotten a reaction from Mirai who glared into his eyes almost hatefully.
"You're trying to show me how WONDERFUL love is by showing me THAT shit?" He snapped.
"WRONG!" Mirai surprised him, pushing him violently to the ground and standing over him. "That's where you're missing the point Trunks. I'm not showing you the wonderful world of love... I'm simply showing you that it exists! People hear the word love and what do they see? Young, happy, enthusiastic couples finding themselves in the arms of one another. They think love is sex and marriage and kids and roses and fucking daisies. But THAT... THAT is NOT love. Or rather, that's not the dramatic proof you're going to need in order to believe it exists. You say it's chemicals in your brain, a physical thing. That's where I'm going to show you you're wrong."
Mirai looked away, visibly trying to check his temper.
"When I showed you what had been done to Susan, what did you look for?" He asked. "Did you think about the pain inflicted on her yet focus on the good that came out of it? Did you think about the love I was trying to stress that she found later on and the sacrifices she made for it? No. No you looked for the revenge, the quick fix Trunks. That's not what I wanted you to see, that's not what I wanted you to do. You think I would come back from the future just to set things straight, to right old wrongs and seek revenge for strangers that moved me to compassion? No. Yet you did what David did, you became the same pitiable, pathetic creature that he did, seeking revenge yet being consumed in the same flames you caused. Revenge is empty Trunks. I never wanted to show you that."
"Then why did you show me David?" Trunks asked, staring up at Mirai from his place on the ground. Funny that he made no movements to get up, yet felt suddenly that beneath the other was where he belonged. Was that shame? He shook his head of the idea and simply stared at the other.
"Because you're just like David." Mirai spat cruelly.
"What?!" Trunks hollered, finally finding his footing and glaring the other in the eye. "And just prey tell HOW did you come to that conclusion?"
"Simple really," Mirai answered in a cold voice. "When I showed you Susan, the only thing you got out of it was the idea of revenge. But with David, there WAS no reconciling what he'd endured. Even in her death, Dorthy was shown a kindness that David had NEVER known. So when there was no revenge, what did you see? When there wasn't that quick fix at your disposal, did you see his life, did you see the purpose of it? Look..." Mirai's eyes softened slightly and he gently raised his hand to cup Trunks' shoulder. "You don't sympathize and you can't understand Susan's pain. You will never love or understand HER love the way that she can. I needed to show you a dramatic piece of proof that you could relate to."
"What are you getting at?"
"You were obsessed, Trunks." Mirai answered. "You were obsessed, almost as obsessed and in love with Goten as David was with his step mother."
"What?!" The other snapped, backing away. Trunks' reaction was as though he had been brutally punched across the face, his color paling and his eyes blazing with anger. "How are you going to say that? You don't know anything Mirai. You know NOTHING. What me and Goten went through, that wasn't love.. that was..."
"Fuck..what..YOU think you know about love," Mirai said each word slowly, adding emphasis to every syllable. "You don't FUCK someone's brother and someone's father as a result of not giving a shit about them. You don't make it your life's goal to ensure that they are FULLY aware that you are having sex every moment that you are. You don't deliberately hurt a person for four fucking years because "it wasn't love". Grow up for God's sake! You're too fucking PISS IN YOUR PANTS afraid to feel anything because you realize that hey, maybe you aren't above us all. Maybe you're just as vulnerable to giving a shit as any one of us.
"You don't see yourself in David but in my eyes? You are JUST as pitiable, as sad and as pathetic as he was. You watched him kill her, you watched as he slowly choked the life out of the one person he ever loved and yet, you have NEVER seen the impact that you had on Goten was just as cruel and just as brutal. You're a bigger monster than him Trunks, because you weren't abused like he was; you weren't isolated so dramatically that you believed the person that hurt you the most was the one person in the world that could love you. And what's the worst thing about you Trunks, is that while David killed his one victim, instead, you have had countless numbers of them. At least David mourned his mother, you? You don't feel anything when you break them."
Trunks' face was drenched with anger, his mouth distorted with it.
"You know what I feel right now Mirai?" He breathed, walking right up to the other's face. "BORED."
With that he turned, walking fast, his expensive shoes clacking against the concrete ground.
"Where are you going Trunks?" Mirai called after, following behind.
"You know what I miss?" Trunks called out, looking upwards with a grin and completely ignoring the other. "The days when I could just go through my hours, fuck what I wanted, when I wanted, how I wanted to and NEVER have to listen to your pathetic little lectures about it. So why don't you take your sick little sob stories to someone who gives a shit about them and stop trying to see things in me that AREN'T there. You can show me sick shit, pretty shit, any kind of shit you want to, but you keep thinking my reactions going to be different and being disappointed when its not."
He turned on his heel, the other stopping to gaze at him.
"When will you see it Mirai," Trunks asked, moving up to the other and seductively touching the side of Mirai's face with his finger tips. "I won't change. I don't have any incentive nor any desire to. The others have given up; have stopped trying to see things that aren't there. Why not you? Why do you persist in this useless voyage my mother sent you on?"
He moved closer to the other still, the cold air making his nose icy as he rubbed it against Mirai's warm cheek.
"Mirai," he whispered. "You of anyone must understand me. Why do you pretend we're so different, so opposite when it's obvious that above all others, you alone can relate to who I am and why I'm this way. We look the same, we have the same hot blood that courses through our veins," he pulled his arm out for emphasis, yanking up his sleeve and tracing the lines of blue and red beneath the skin. "yet you continue with your facade, trying to expose ME when you're the one that persists in hiding behind a mask. Don't you get it? If I'm like David, than so are you."
Mirai tried to move away, showing his disgust for this accusation.
"Ah ah ah," Trunks grinned, cupping the back of the other's neck and pulling him in close. "We're one in the same though, aren't we? So here's my question.... What's YOUR obsession Mirai?"
With that he turned away, the warmth of his body leaving Mirai to ponder the question, to dwell on the things he had said.
"Where are you going," Mirai asked quietly, dazed by what he had been told. His eyes remained glued to the ground, his head going in a thousand different directions.
"Me?" Trunks laughed, walking away with his hands in his pockets. "I'm going to do the same thing I did before you came into my life. I'm going to attempt to fuck my father and then I'm going to sleep."
.............................................................................
Trunks had watched Vegeta for a few moments, his heart beating in his ears. What Mirai had said cut deeper than he'd felt in years, his own anger surprising him. It was seldom that anything anyone would say could get much of a rise out of him... well, at least, THAT sort of rise. People couldn't often surprise him, couldn't often be as unpredictable as Mirai had been. Here he had thought he was on some damned quest to see pretty little examples of people supposedly 'in love' yet Mirai had shattered any predisposed ideas of that nature. And he had to admit that Mirai was right. When he heard the word "love" he thought of sex justified through pathetic reasoning and he thought of all those silly movies bent on making housewives drool.
But he didn't think of sick, incestuous obsession. He didn't think of darkness and cruelty. Yet that's what he had been shown and here he was, dwelling on it all.
Vegeta sat outside in the garden, resting peacefully against the stone of a wall as he gazed up at the stars, oblivious to his son. The rain had brought out the most beautiful colors in the flowers, the grass and vines a healthy green. Vegeta though, was a contrast to everything, his black turtleneck making his skin show more pale in the moonlight, his eyes fierce as he gazed upwards. Trunks marveled silently at the beautiful contours of his father's face, the ageless, timeless skin that made the man look as though he were the same age as his son. It always struck Trunks as hilarious that they could go to bars or restaurants and Vegeta would get ID carded same as him. More entertaining in fact was when people even younger than his father would talk down to the man, thinking that his age was inferior to theirs and that he could (imagine) learn from them.
But it was impossible to really know the things that Vegeta had learned in all of his time. Maybe that was the most mysterious and intriguing part of the man. That he'd visited worlds that one couldn't even fathom, seen horrors and beauties that the world could never even grasp yet his youthful look was forever untainted by it. Almost like a vampire, generations old yet walking through the world with ageless beauty. It was a curse and gift for Vegeta. He would always be young and he would always be as gorgeous as a painting. Yet, he would also watch as his wife aged, sick and unable to even give him the least amount of sexual gratification that she once had. He would watch her skin crinkle with time, his youthful face staring over her even as her mirror reflected back a dying old woman. And he would have to watch her die, the world seeing what would appear to be a twenty-five year old gold digger mourning a lonely, naive old fool.
Trunks slowly opened the sliding, glass door, his father's eyes darting over towards him and his body tensing.
"Where have you been?" He asked nonchalantly, not even pretending that he honestly cared one way or the other.
"Out." Trunks answered, moving to sit beside his father who leaned away intentionally, putting distance between them. "What are you looking at?"
"Up." Vegeta said, grinning a bit. Trunks had to roll his eyes, pulling his knees to his chest and staring upwards. They sat for a few moments, each in their silence, contemplating things neither would ever know about the other.
Vegeta finally pointed upwards, getting Trunks' attention.
"Do you see that larger star?" he asked, pointing towards it. "And that one? And that one?" His finger darted to different positions in the sky, some much farther away than others. Trunks merely nodded, keeping silent. "Those are planets I once visited. Some are more violent and horrible than anything you could even imagine, with warriors and fighters that, at the time, made me seem like a toddler competing in the earth tournaments. Others have great big monsters and dinosaurs and beasts that are miles long and vicious beyond reason."
Trunks nodded once more, listening to the throaty, accented voice of his father.
"Kakarot and I," he spoke suddenly in a lower voice, "once promised we'd go to each one." he put on a soft grin, looking over at Trunks. "A means of testing our strength once we tired of beating the hell out of one another. A stupid dream," He shrugged. "But I wonder now and then if that's what he's doing. If he went without me."
Trunks watched his father's facial features closely, watching as the eyes and mouth registered none of the pain that he figured must have been there.
"Does it bother you that he left?" He asked, moving slightly closer, searching out the heat his father's body radiated.
"You know Kakarot," Vegeta once again shrugged. "He was always such a birdbrain, always on his own little selfish quests to find whatever it was he needed to know about himself. I see him now in the stars the same as always, the hero with no discernable flaws. Maybe that's why he left to begin with. He had flaws here, he had ties to you that made him seem human, seem defeatable."
Trunks almost chuckled to himself at how easily his father tried to dart around the knowledge they both possessed on that topic.
"But that's not why he stays gone," Vegeta said quietly, swallowing hard.
Silence passed between them once more, Trunks quietly watching his father's eyes as they scanned the sky. Was he looking for Goku? Was he searching for some proof that Goku still remembered their promise, still remembered him at all?
"You wanted him," Trunks breathed quietly, not asking but simply announcing.
Vegeta just glared at him, rolling his eyes in disdain.
"Wanted to beat him? Yes." he answered.
"No," Trunks insisted. "You wanted to be with him. You wanted to have sex with him, the same way I did."
Vegeta just growled deep in his throat, visibly trying to keep his temper in check. The space around them suddenly seemed smolderingly uncomfortable.
"Only," Trunks grinned cruelly. "I got him. I didn't let these stupid humans make me feel like I didn't deserve what I wanted just because it was socially "taboo". I got what I wanted and if you hadn't spent so much time sitting on your ass and giving two shits what these humans thought, you would have too."
Vegeta suddenly laughed catching his son off guard.
"Like you know shit Trunks," He laughed bitterly. "Like you know shit."
Vegeta finally stood up, gazing down at the other.
"I have NEVER given a shit what these humans thought," He stated, looking suddenly very superior, something that grated on Trunks, forcing him to stand as well. "You always think that I hold myself back because I've let their opinions taint me, jade me, degrade me, however you word it. There's where you miss the point."
He began walking inside, pausing for only a second to look back.
"If I ever really wanted something, nothing, no human, no family ties, no power in the universe could keep me from it." He spoke. "I thought you knew me better than that."
"Than why not me?" Trunks spat back. "I know you want me."
"Pfft," Vegeta snorted rolling his eyes and turning his back. "You flatter yourself."
Trunks suddenly grabbed his father's shoulder, spinning him around almost violently and glaring at him with piercing blue eyes. Vegeta's own eyes lit up with anger, yanking his arm away violently. They both breathed rapidly, sizing the other up.
"You'd better fucking watch it kid," Vegeta snarled, showing some of the old attitude that had sparked Trunks' infatuation from the beginning. Ah but it had been too long since he'd seen the violent, brutal side of his father's personality, the rage and vengeance that had once ruled the prince entirely. It was like a complete transformation, the facial features once so solemn and void of emotions alight with intensity and fire burning behind the cold black eyes. "If it weren't for your mother, trust me, you'd be dead by now."
"Ha," Trunks laughed, moving even closer, challenging his father in doing so. "Or you would have been man enough to fuck me by now. Tell me Vegeta," He smiled sadistically, "Did you have both balls entact before you met her or were you always a pussified fuck?"
Vegeta was suddenly so angry he was shaking, eyes red rimmed with his pressurized attempts to calm himself down. Before he'd even registered basic thought, he'd punched Trunks square across the face, sending the gorgeous face flying sideways, blood splashing on the stone wall. The thick, dark lips were bruised, blood pooling in Trunks' mouth as he smiled back at his father, loving the reaction he could get out of the man.
"Maybe if you had been, oh, I don't know, say a man?" Trunks sneered. "It would have been YOU balls deep in your precious Kakarot, rather than me."
He pushed Vegeta's shoulders harshly, nearly laughing out when the older man went through the same old routine of attempting to calm himself down and failing to do so when Trunks pushed him yet again. Ah, but victory could be so fucking sweet.
"As it was," He laughed almost hysterically. "I fucked that pretty, tight ass for a month straight and never ONCE did he even mention you. Never once did he even think of you."
He pushed Vegeta one last time, staring coldly into the burning eyes of his father.
"But if it helps," He smiled sweetly. "when I was sucking that thick, hot cock of his daddy; swallowing his cum like a martini...... I was thinking of you."
He attacked his father's mouth, tasting the salt and saliva that made his body burn with an intensity that could drive a human man to insanity. Vegeta fought backwards, pushing against Trunks shoulders. The powerful tongue slid into his mouth, colliding with his own. And in that instant, in tasting the mouth that had consumed Kakarot, Vegeta gave in.
Trunks felt the moment, felt the very second the hands against his shoulders ceased, once the pulling and pushing stopped and his father's body went limp in his arms. Compliant they way that they had, the way that Gohan and Goku had become when he'd finally consumed them, created them, freed them. His beautiful masterpieces, his morbid works of mordern art, morphed and transformed into whatever broken creatures he'd left them.
He sank into the seconds that passed, remembering each one of his victims, their tear drenched faces and confused pleas. 'Why didn't he love them'? 'What had they done wrong'? 'What could they do'? His artwork, however misunderstood. Yes, his walking wounds, his liquified and animated pieces of what used to be called human; shells, stinking with the dead meat that festered inside a moving corpse.
Yet Vegeta made them all pale in comparison, even Gohan and Goku. The feeling of a soft mouth that had kissed a thousand lips and yet now were attached to his own in an almost cruel clasp; it was in a word, intoxicating. The feeling of smooth, flawless flesh pressed against his own and furious beads of sweat tasted on Vegeta's upper lip.... nothing could be described in a human word.
And even as victory could taste as sweet as candy, Vegeta tore his mouth away, eyes etched with bright red veins. All the intimidating fury burned behind his pupils, Trunks suddenly wondering if this was the very last thing so many people in his position had ever seen. Yet he couldn't even force himself to feel fear, knowing that despite Vegeta's temperament, he could hold his own. And even more secretly, indulging in the raw surges of sexual energy his father was simply oozing with; the beautiful life force that he was.
"How.." Vegeta barely managed to spit through his teeth, shaking with his anger. "fucking DARE you."
Moving to speak, Trunks was thrown backwards as Vegeta's mouth was crushed against his own, teeth violently attacking his lips, the prince's tongue wrenching its way across Trunks'. Iron fingers grasped the back of his neck, forcing his face tighter against his father's. It was a brutal, bruising kiss, the only kind worthy of the savage prince. Trunks could taste the copper flavor of blood, both his and the other's, mixing within his mouth and sliding down his throat as he consumed the Saiyan's saliva into his body; the rich, thick taste coating his stomach.
His body felt like it coursed with liquid fire, excitement and arousal slicing their way through every vein in his being. He was positively shaking with it, grinding his teeth when Vegeta's canines pierced their way into the side of his neck, the hard fingers coiled around his throat, choking him. Vicious fingers held tight to his body, bruising his flawless skin without mercy or consideration. He could feel the blood draining down his neck, his father's teeth still clinging to the torn flesh.
Ah but this was reserved only for him; this emotional abondonement, this sexual disregard. The sociopathic numbness with which Vegeta could treat him yet could never bestowed upon his aging wife. Yes, the violent, cruel sex that Vegeta had stowed up since meeting Bulma, the relentless urge that he had bottled away and all but forgotten until this moment when he both punished and blessed his only son.
The moment was paused briefly as Vegeta tore his mouth away once more, dark blood still pouring down his chin, both panting as they stared at one another. Lust and savagery played over Vegeta's features, Trunks thinking only that this was the old Vegeta he was suddenly meeting; the domesticated, caged version all but forgotten. The Prince's eyes were purged of anything that resembled human, his teeth enlarged in a way that seemed animalistic; and Trunks loving that he was the prey.
Vegeta's hand wrenched its way into Trunks' pants, grabbing the stiff appendage painfully and pulling upwards until Trunks eyes were nearly watering. The free hand held the younger man's face angrily, the cold, cruel black eyes never leaving, even when Trunks stared downwards at his father's movements, shaking with pleasure and pain. His breath came in sporatic gasps, his chest rising and falling. Yet Vegeta's eyes never left the beautiful face, never stopped tracing the lines of gorgeous lips that were half parted, twisted with agony and adoration.
Trunks felt his body pushed to the ground, yet felt no pain but that being administered so skillfully on his cock. It was the perfect mixture of torture and blinding pleasure; no surprise that it was coming from the one being more desired than all in the galaxy. No drug, no medicine, no love, no hate could compare or raise such emotion as Vegeta could. He was love and hate all in one; peace and war in one tight, gorgeous being; fire and ice all at once and you burned from both. Precum leaked down the Prince's knuckles, Trunks acknowledging every drip that would soon lead to the most euphoric orgasm of his entire life.
Sensing this inevitable response, Vegeta's hand ceased its cruelties, lacing its way up every contour of the other's body. Trunks let his head fall back, gazing through half lidded eyes as the Prince licked animalistically at the creamy substance that coated his fingers, stare never leaving his son. He closed his eyes, wincing at Vegeta's hard cock pressed painfully into his own, the Saiyan grinding his hips into the other's. Their erections slid over and over against one another, until their panting and hissed moans were all that could register in their heated minds.
"Yes," Trunks groaned, throwing his head back against the grass. "Fuck me."
All movement ceased, the only feeling that of Vegeta's hot breath beating down against his exposed throat. Opening his eyes, he was met with the familiar (and horrible) "old" Vegeta, the feeling and irritating calmness returned to the once wickedly distorted features.
"I could never fuck you Trunks," Vegeta said, staring heartlessly downwards before pushing himself into standing position. He observed the other as though Trunks were but an inferior child, eyes completely void of anything but disdain.
Turning his back, the Prince made his way towards the sliding glass door, pausing only to say one last thing.
"It'd be like fucking a dead body."