“So change my world Mirai!” Trunks challenged, holding his arms out. “Punish me!”
He grabbed the older version’s collar, pulling his face near.
“Fix me Mirai,” He breathed, voice melting with sex. “I’ve been a bad…. BAD boy!”
Mirai pushed him away violently, glaring. He could feel the heat from Trunk’s breath on his cheeks and mouth, left there like a blown kiss, burning his resolve. It seemed the pores of Mirai’s own flesh were flushing with the desire for his younger self, pulsating with blood. He shook his head, trying to clear his mind from the state of idiocy he had found himself in.
Against his will, he found his eyes staring at the younger version, his human half obsessed with beauty, poisoning his resoluteness. Every contour, every line, every slope of flawless flesh seemingly sculpted out of some sort of ethereal material. How could this be his face when he had become so blindly infatuated with it? Had he looked at his own face with such horrific fascination? So why this incessant need to stare at what he had already memorized years ago?
“You want me,” Trunks laughed.
“Preposterous,” Mirai spat, turning away quickly and avoiding the other’s gaze.
“You want me just like I want you. Admit it.”
“You presume too much Trunks. You’re just like Vegeta; you jump ahead before seeing where you’ll land.”
“And you’re trying my patience Mirai. Why don’t you just admit it?!”
“Because I don’t!”
“Yes you do.” Trunks nearly snarled, hurling his glass across the room. “And I’ll tell you why you do. Because EVERYONE wants me! And if they don’t, than they will. That’s how the game works.”
“Then play the game my way,” Mirai smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. “Show me that you can change, be more then this, and then you’ll get what you want.”
“And do you even know what you’re trying so hard to change Mirai?” The younger version asked, cocking his head to the side. “Have you even thought about what it is that needs to change? Or why it does?”
Mirai remained quiet, avoiding the other’s eyes. There was something about the twenty-four year old’s gaze that could make you want anything. It unnerved him.
“Come into my world,” Trunks whispered. “You’re trying to change a life you don’t even understand. Let me show you what it means to live.”
………….
The music pulsated like a pounding heart beneath his feet, jarring his senses one note at a time. Bodies swirled around him, naked chests and muscular arms wrapping themselves around his body. He flinched as another palm found its way to his groin, groping him hard through his pants. Or should he say “Trunk’s” pants since the younger version had insisted on dressing him up like a ken doll, perfectly erotic black Teflon stretched over a muscular rear.
His hair was pulled back, revealing the face that so many could admire (apparently even himself) blue eyes darting dangerously from one suggestive look to another. Trunks was basking in the attention, white streaks of hair turning the colors that flashing lights registered down upon the crowd.
Was it always like this? Mirai had to wonder, watching his younger self drown in a worshipful sea of admirers, hands and mouths reaching towards him constantly. Surely the attention had to become tedious at some point yet Trunks seemed in his element, denying pleas left and right, kissing some to encourage the pathetic groupies.
“You see my world,” Trunks whispered into his ear, leading them through the crowd towards the bar. “You could live like this too. You could have it all like I do.”
Mirai simply shook his head, willing away the temptation. It had been a stupid move on his part to agree to this. He’d had no intention of actually seeing the beauty and appeal of it all. And in no way did he form any sort of stupidity in his mind that would EVER suggest Trunks could change. He merely wanted the youth to attempt for the sake of his mother. No more, no less.
Yet he had made himself vulnerable in his own attempts and now fought down strong urges he had long ago passed off as fitful hormones. Perhaps he hadn’t been ready for this. Jumping into his time machine, he had given no thought to his younger self. He had imagined the youth would grow as he did, albeit happier and more secure. Rather, he had been shocked to find a bisexual nymphomaniac who sociopathically chose victims like some sort of fairytale monster.
It concluded facts about himself that he had long ago been unable to accept. And he didn’t like it.
“Sit,” Trunks instructed. “I’ll get us some drinks.”
Mirai did as he was told, his old “Vegeta” personality kicking him for taking orders from anyone. Even uhh… himself. He had to smile at that one, accidentally sending over a cheeky signal to an admiring and mentally smacking himself as the man came nearer.
“Damn Trunks,” The rather flamboyant (and obviously artificial) red head purred out, taking a seat in the booth with him. “Your hair looks fabulous! How EVER did you get it to grow so quickly?”
Mirai blushed profusely, hating the fact, yet being unable to deny the attractiveness of the man seated before him. Smooth, white skin nestled beneath a crop of shinny, silken red hair and furious green eyes that no dim lighting could dull.
“You alright sweety?” The red head called out over the music, brushing back loose strands of Mirai’s hair. “You look a bit flushed. Ya wanna get out of here? Titus and Aries are in the back room. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind heading back to your place or mine.”
Mirai thought he’d positively pass out when the man massaged his thigh from underneath the table, winking sweetly.
“We could all have a go at it. You know, just like old times.”
“Uhhh,” Mirai droned out, feeling like a complete idiot. “I think you’ve got me confused. See uhh…”
He had the other man’s attention yet couldn’t quite seem to form the words.
“See, I’m not him. Or… well, I AM him just uhh…” He mentally thanked God when Trunks waltzed up to the table, holding two glasses and smirking.
“Ohh Mirai,” he purred in a heavenly voice. “I see you’ve already met Red. Your fan club is positively blossoming.”
Red just stared back from one of them to the other, shock registering on his facial features.
“Oh my God,” He breathed. “And here I thought Kelly was just being his hysterical self. You two are completely identical.”
He looked from Trunks to Mirai, reaching out to finger the long strands of purple that the older version still kept.
“And you’re BOTH absolutely gorgeous!? I didn’t know you had an identical twin Trunks! How EVER did you manage to hide him from such finicky fags such as ourselves?”
“Easily,” Trunks shrugged. “I kept him to myself. He’s perfectly content you can imagine.”
“Yes,” Red smiled suggestively. “I CAN imagine. As I was just saying to… Mirai did you say it was? I was suggesting we revisit past times. Aries and Titus are around and I’m positive they would be more than thrilled to-..”
“No thanks Red,” Trunks smirked without humor. “This is a rare trip to the outside world for my “brother”. I don’t exactly need him traumatized by you and your series of toys.”
Red looked rather disappointed, slowly letting himself up, off the booth and staring down at both once more.
“Well,” He pouted. “Suit yourself. Oh but Trunks, I AM calling you.”
With that, he flamboyantly made his way to the dance floor, swiveling his hips to admirers of which there seemed no shortage. Trunks merely smiled after him, rolling his eyes as he presented his older version with a stiff drink on the rocks.
“You’ll have to forgive Red,” he grinned. “He only just realized he was gayer then Barney on Ice and shed his wife and kids for it. He’s what we call, “still on the prowl”, meaning, he’s absolutely sexually insatiable at this point.”
“He had a wife and kids? And he just left them?” Mirai asked, shaking his head in disbelief.
“I like to consider it reckless abandonment.” Trunks laughed heartlessly. “Poor little twat of a wife still comes in here occasionally, begging him to at least go see his kids. I wish he would have just done it the old fashion way. Fuck some random person and let her walk in on it. No lies, no questions, no need for answers. I’ve helped a numerous amount of men with that one. But rather,” He sighed. “He trails her behind him, never making it clear enough to let her go. I think he likes the attention, but who knows. Heteros, they’re just so damn pitiable.”
“So you don’t think what he did was wrong? I mean, just LEAVING them like that?”
“God no,” Trunks rolled his eyes, taking a swig of his drink. “That’s what heteros do. They go through the drama, they play their little ‘victim’ rolls. In our world, there’s no need for explanations. We come and we go when we like. If we’re not there in the morning, we’re not coming back for lunch so to speak. You ask me if I think what he did was wrong and I ask you how it isn’t considered right? He shed his inhibitions. He didn’t let petty attachments keep him from the life he knew he wanted. He shed them both and if you ask me, he should feel absolutely no guilt for that. They’re the culprits! They’re the ones that held him back for so many years from his full potential.”
He took another drink, shrugging his shoulders.
“They’re like a disease and he’s only now finding out there’s a real cure for it. Good for him.”
“That theory sucks,” Mirai grumbled, taking a large drink.
“Life sucks. You can either spend it concentrating on how much it sucks,” He smirked, moving towards Mirai and cupping his knee. “or you can spend it doing your own amount of sucking. All just depends.”
“You’re sick.”
“God, aren’t I?” Trunks laughed, laying back into the booth and deliberately letting his hand slide up Mirai’s thigh. “So when are you going to give in and let me fuck you Mirai?”
An entire mouthful of alcohol was spattered all over the table, Mirai gasping and choking in surprise.
“What?!” He coughed, wiping his mouth. “Do you ALWAYS talk like that? Just say whatever pops into your sick head?”
“Yes,” Trunks nodded. “I figure it cuts down on the trivial chit chat and conveys the truth. People may not like boldness but they do respect it. But answer me. This game is getting old. When are you going to let me fuck you raw?”
Mirai tensed as Trunk’s hand slowly slid up the inside of his thigh, gradually moving towards his groin. He glared down at the offending appendage, glancing up and observing Trunk’s closeness that now seemed to surround him like a blanket.
“You feel this,” Mirai suddenly jumped, the younger version’s hand grouping his crotch, hot and fiery with energy building on his palm. “I burn for you. Who else could appreciate your beauty the way I do? Who else could make you want the freedom so bad? I could show you things you’ve never even fucking fantasized about.”
Mirai struggled, trying to push Trunk’s hand away from his hardening cock before the younger realized his own effect.
“I can fuck you so hard you bleed,” the voice whispered into his ear, Mirai suddenly losing his own inhibitions to the almost painful force of Trunk’s knuckles and palms digging into his partially erect cock. “And you will love it. You will beg for me to cum on you Mirai. They all do.”
Trunks hand was slowly replaced by his knee, massaging forcefully up and down Mirai’s fully erect dick, the gorgeous man’s eyes rolling back into his head. The smile that crossed the lips of his younger self was lost as the monstrous heir grinned in victory, wrapping his cold fingers onto the other’s cheeks.
“You will love me when I fuck you Mirai. I’ll show you love like you’ve never seen before.” Trunks tongue snaked across the other’s lips. “I will make you fall in love with me.”
Mirai’s hand suddenly covered his, the fierce blue eyes peeling open.
“I could never fall in love with you Trunks. No one could.”
“Bullshit,” the youth snapped, glaring down at his prey. “They all love me. They all fall eventually. That’s the fun of the game.”
“It’s all a lie,” Mirai shrugged, pushing Trunks away from him. “They don’t love you. They don’t FALL in love with you. They become obsessed with an idea that you give them. A lie. A façade. A trick. Do you want me to elaborate?”
They stared at each other, both daring the other to look away and neither willing to.
“If you want to see love, Trunks, REAL love, I can show that to you. Only ask it of me and it’s done. I will show you what love is.”
“Haven’t you learned already?!” the other snapped, angry at his rejection. “Or are you that fucking thick?! I don’t believe in love! It’s nothing more than a pathetic, fantastical idea created by desperate humans. It doesn’t even exist! Nothing more than the right combination of chemicals mixing in the brain to create only the sort of stupidity humans would so readily subject themselves to. Yeah, maybe you’re right. They don’t really “love” me. But they think they do and therein lies the hilarity of the situation. You would THINK being a Saiyan you’d be above such idiocy and desperation.”
“That’s really what you think? That love doesn’t truly exist?”
“If it does, why subject yourself to it? No, humans want the pain, the emotion, the let down. It’s their driving force in life. They need the emotional drama to feel alive. It’s the only way they thrive as a race. Rather than any greater purpose or goal in life, they merely dream of “feeling”. What more do I do than let them succumb to their own stupidity?”
“So, you’ve never loved anyone or anything in your life?” Mirai asked, watching the features of Trunk’s face. And it seemed as though the beautiful contours froze but for one moment before righting themselves, replaced by a cruel grin.
“As if I would ever be so foolish.” He scoffed. “I love sex though, if that’s any consolation.”
“It isn’t.” His other self replied, eyes harsh. “Nymphomania is a poor substitute for real feeling Trunks. And when you’re alone and you die, I think you’re going to realize that. I pity you for it.”
“And I pity you, Mirai,” Smirked the other. “because you will have to watch you life fly by in a series of let downs and broken dreams. I live for each moment and never feel the sting of disappointment that you feel when trusting others with your heart. People can make or break you, Mirai, but me? I’m the invincible God to these people. No one can touch me unless I allow it.”
“Sure, I agree,” Mirai shrugged. “You’ll go through life, moment for moment. And on your last one, mark my fucking words, you’ll regret every single one you wasted inside some stranger. Mark my fucking words.”
With that Trunks pushed himself away from the table, flashing Mirai a sadistic grin before strutting through the dance floor and grabbing two random, handsome men before exiting through the back.