Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Hero of the Day ❯ The unquestionably eighth chapter ( Chapter 8 )

"Hero of the Day"

by Shella

Summary: Cruddy humour, worse alliteration and teenage hentai-ness abound when Mirai Gohan teaches Trunks how to fly. Yet another YAOI fic by me with the title lifted from a Metallica song! Kinky as hell! Enjoy!

Genre: Hentai / Humour / Romance

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Yaoi (as usual), over-use of the word 'hentai' and very many kinky thoughts ;)

Archive: Naturally, ask me first.

Disclaimer: Hehe, I'd like to see Funimation try and edit *this* into a half-hour episode. There'd be five seconds of footage! ^_^ So here's the deal: I don't own DBZ, any of the characters, or "Hero of the Day". They belong to Saint Akira, Lord Toriyama and Metallica, respectively.

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The unquestionably eighth chapter

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If any true Saiyan saw the position Gohan was in now, they would've been disgusted.

"Can I pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease try again, Trunks?"

On his knees, hands clasped, begging shamelessly. He was imploring a kid ten years younger than him to open his legs, which seemed to have been miraculously (or very, very unfortunately) locked together at the knee by some sort of super-strong sticky tape.

"I swear I'll be nicer this time, koi…"

The sticky tape used to keep Trunks' legs together also went by the name of willpower, and it was the unexpected, unforeseen and never-before-encountered presence of this … this strange thing that had confounded the older demi. Never before had the thirteen-year-old had anything to do with even the concept of self-control, especially where Gohan was concerned.

"You know, somehow I don't think so, Gohan."

A poignant, pleading pout crossed the darker part-Saiyan's gorgeous face as he pulled out all the stops - right down to the normally irresistible Chibi Eyes - to sway his koibito's decision. Alas, all his efforts failed.

"Heh, little do you know I'm just taunting you because I like seeing you like this - I'm going to give in just as soon as you're too funny not to laugh at."

Of course Trunks didn't actually tell Gohan he was toying with him. That would be an entirely un-strategic move and the lilac-haired teen was sick to death of constantly, often unintentionally proving his mother's constant comments about Saiyan stupidity.

"Come on, Trunks, I really will be nicer to you if you let me do you again."

Something else Trunks intended to keep a secret was the fact that he wasn't really the one in charge here. Gohan could get him to do anything if he really tried - he just wasn't aware of it. The no-longer-virginal thirteen-year-old was entirely subject to the much-more-experienced twenty-three-year-old's charms, whether it be his sexy eyes, or his tousled hair, or his delicious lips, or his skilled hands, or … or anything really. Trunks had to admit his mother had a point - only an idiot (or a Son, the terms were interchangeable) would fail to pick up on his shockingly obvious weak spot for the devilishly desirable demi-god.

"I'll do anything, I swear, anything you want - just tell me what to do and I'll do it for you if you'll just open those sexy legs of yours!"

A quirk of an eyebrow and a glint in the azure eyes made Gohan falter. He was suddenly, disturbingly aware that he had probably just made the biggest mistake of his life in placing himself under Trunks' power.

"Anything?"

Yep, a definite screw-up there.

"I have a feeling you'll regret saying that before long…"

Yeah, that makes two of us…

"Uh … really, I mean it … anything … anything you want, Trunks…"

How about letting him take a photo so he could forever remember the look of terror on Gohan's face?

"Just … just as long as I can shag you again…"

But the likelihood of Gohan being able to reach his goal seemed to grow less likely with every passing heartbeat, dependent entirely upon Trunks' good will.

"Hm … let me think for a minute…"

Of course, the phrase `Trunks' good will' was a blatant oxymoron. A contradiction in terms of an extremity so … well, extreme, that it made phrases like `job satisfaction' and `army intelligence' seem like entirely attainable concepts. In other words, it was bullshit.

"All right then, it's a deal."

Gohan felt a strange, inexplicable shudder pass through him at these words, like the pronunciation of a long-dreaded doom.

"I shouldn't have said that … I should not have said that…"

Honestly, the things sex (or more to the point, a lack thereof) could made a person stoop to. It was quite pathetic, really, how much Gohan's other head controlled his thinking. Even now the promise of a hot shag with the bit of lavender-haired crumpet he adored was fuelling his bravery to levels inconceivable to anyone who didn't possess the older half-Saiyan's hyperactive libido.

"What-" *clear throat* "-what do you want first, koi?"

The evil smirk on Trunks' face had only grown more dangerous with each passing second since Gohan had made his foolish offer. As stylishly, skilfully sexy as the expression was, it spelled out `BEWARE' for the darker demi-Saiyan in huge flashing neon letters with lights periodically winking on and off to emphasise the hazard and arrows pointing to it from every direction.

"What's the matter, Gohan, don't you like being my personal slave?"

The other male made a small, pathetic noise, like a mouse being trodden on.

"I guess that's a negative then … well, I can teach you to enjoy it in time, depending, of course, on what sort of mood I'm in…"

For some reason Gohan had the strangest, most insane urge to brandish a clove of garlic at him. He honestly couldn't understand how he, all-powerful Super Saiyan, had managed to get into a position of supreme subordination and submission to a deceptively angelic-looking thirteen-year-old roughly half his size.

"It was either the little white buzzy pills or the glittery blue ones - the scary thing being the fact that I don't remember which…"

Curse Bulma and her medicine cabinet to an eternity of no hairspray.

*Sigh of resignation* "Well, here goes nothing…"

Hurrah for blackmail and bribery.

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