And Then His Eyes Lit Up
The moon was big and full and bright and it shot little thunderbolts down his eyes into his stomach. Slowly, the feeling would rise until it was an all-out storm inside of his mind. He'd been feeling odd all evening, like something was sort of swirling inside, but he couldn't place the source of the sensation. Something about Saiya-Jins and the full moon, it freed something inside of them all.
Something is pulsating inside of me, it's kind of irritating and it's kind of funny but it's mostly just crying out for release. I focus on the color of the sky, how it's some sort of indigo lost between blue and purple forever or at least until the sun starts to come up and the sky gets light again.
He doesn't know what to do with himself, so now he's just trying to keep breathing. He's biting his lip and his fingers are gripping the cold gritty metal with the little flecks of white paint chipping off on the bar of the banister before him as his teeth gnash just slightly more and more until he tastes it, the unmistakable flavor of his own blood drip, drip, dribbling into his mouth under the pressure. He's teasing himself with the pain; he's savoring the sensation like its love.
It's asking for permission and not just taking control, because even though it's swearing it's stronger than I am, it wants to give me what I want. It will love me better than I ever loved myself, and it is creeping about my thoughts, settling inside of my skin, Saiya-Jin rage.
They always say madness happened quickly, in their stories. Like of how his dad went Majin, everyone seemed to recant the process as just amounting to someone shouting and holding his head. Then, as if someone flicked one light off and one light on, it would happen.
The twenty-first birthday of the Saiya-Jin prince, and as he stared out into the night sky, he was sure that something oddly terrible was happening to him, but he was not in any real sort of pain, and he was certainly not holding his head and crying out. It was happening sort of slowly, like a cigarette buzz teasing at his sanity, questioning the need in heeding some basic moral/ethical rules like not destroying everything on virtue of being weaker than he was.
Trunks inhaled and exhaled. He'd decided that he'd shed enough of his moral skin and he was certain that it was now the time to act. Something like the desire to conquer crept into his mind and an awful smile cracked over his lips.
He tilted his head down, pulling the sleeve of his suit up. He'd just turned twenty one, and his mother threw him a huge party, declaring him the CEO of Capsule Corporations. Overnight, he'd become wealthy beyond imagination and wild with madness.
The wealth of the Capsule Corporations created a young man both sharpened and refined. It was a machine, one side an angry alien warrior determined to create a soldier, and the other an overbearing blue chain-smoking genius. Not a normal family. For each beating Vegeta gave the heir, Bulma would work double time to spoil her son with kisses and toys. He was showered with cruelty, bitterness, love, and possessions. He knew by the time he was about twelve that he had no hope of being a normal boy, especially one trying to maneuver in the civilized world and not a battlefield.
He thinks this is really ironic. Did he tell you that in another timeline, he grew up in a warzone? Maybe that's why the thought of living as a CEO seems a bit dry and uninspiring to him. Maybe he wants some blood, wants a challenge, or-
"You need a woman." his best friend follows him outside. The door swings to a close and the lights from the party spill out into Trunks' dark place for a moment
"Goten." Trunks looks up, lifting his drink to his friend, "It's always so pleasant to have you drop in on me," he examines his best friend, shaking his head at him. "Seriously, instead of thinking of you as intrusive these days I just think it's cute. That's how far we've come."
Ignoring Trunks' last statements, Goten looks around, "Is there a girl out here? Seriously, why are you brooding out here by yourself? Every girl in West City is here looking for you." Goten sort of salivates at this.
"And they're all so very interesting," Trunks says, rolling his eyes. He's pretending pretty well to ignore the process occurring within him because Trunks believes its poor manners to make a show of madness. He's well-bred and he can't possibly be expected to make a public display of sudden mania.
"What does it matter if they're interesting?" Goten asks, his eyes glimmering a little bit. Trunks laughed and enjoyed his companion's enthusiasm when it came to matters of the opposite sex. "Come on, Trunks, they're gorgeous!"
"Look, I'm going to go see another gorgeous girl so just cover for me."
"Who's that?" Goten asks, squinting over the balcony as I launched myself into the air.
"Your mother," He says with simple sarcasm and a gentle wave.
"Trunks, you're such an asshole sometimes." Goten says, more to himself with a roll of his eyes. He entered the building, looking around at everyone. He didn't always understand Trunks, or why he would randomly get in bad moods on happy occasions. It must be the Vegeta in him, he muses.
It wasn't yet three o'clock and he cracked is neck, scanning his eyes over the horizon, wondering where to go or what to do with himself. When he looked back he saw the party in his honor was still raging on, with his reluctant father and his beaming mother, all so proud that he'd grown into a fine young man.
He wondered what they would think, the normal people, if they saw him flying away in the moonlight. He loved the mountain air, and how it was neither too warm nor too cool. It was an awful lot like the woman he was about to see: just perfect, as if fashioned for him by a god.
Blame the stars for everything that happens tonight, and maybe narcissism.
When he arrived, he wasn't entirely sure what he'd just walked into, but it seemed intriguing. He heard the yelp before he saw the flash of yellow and its accompanying whiff of cheap cologne. Yamucha just flew out a window. He raised a brow as he's not sure which to go to first: the woman dusting her hands off with satisfaction, or Yamcha whimpering against a rock comically.
He steps over Yamcha, striding towards the window that she was standing at, savoring the way her eyes widen in surprise, "Trunks! What are you doing here?" she asks, taken aback.
"Hi, ChiChi," he says with a cheeky smile. "How are you this evening?"
"It's really not what it looks like."
Trunks takes a step through the window, the black leather patent of his shoes sort of sparkling. He notices her husband's not in, as per usual, and ChiChi has to step back because he's moved so close to her so abruptly. "What does Yamucha being thrown out of your house via the window at this late hour look like, ChiChi?" He asks, cocking his head to the side with feigned interest.
"I just mean," ChiChi said, shaking her head in frustration, "That Yamucha doesn't have better things to do with his time than hit on married women and-"
Trunks dramatically gasped, "You mean Yamucha came to you in the middle of the night?" The cad! How dare he just barge in on poor Chi-Chan without word? He shook his head, as if the thought were unacceptable to him.
"Well, yes, but I took care of it." ChiChi said, eyeing her other unexpected visitor. She was unnerved by him as something about his mannerisms just seemed to be too smooth for her. A cat coming upon its prey comes to mind.
"Obviously," Trunks stated simply, his grin widening. This was it! A beautiful, strong woman that was worthy of his time! With a brisk flick of his wrist, he closed the windows behind ChiChi. "He reeked of alcohol, you know."
ChiChi shrugged, "Oh, I'm sure he was drunk. He's not a bad guy, you know. I don't know when else he would have the nerve to try to come on to a married woman. Isn't Yamucha a little too old to be getting sloshed on the weekends?"
"Oh, age can't possibly mean that much." Trunks looked over and smiled at her, "Well, ChiChi, let me take you out to dinner."
"At three a.m.?" ChiChi raised a brow. The situation was so awkward and forced that she was afraid that her discomfort was apparent. On a shallow level, she didn't want to seem rude to her guest. Internally, instinct told her to be wary and tread slowly.
"Aren't you hungry?" He said with a smile. "We'll get coffee, I want to talk to you and I want you to not have to worry about fussing around your house."
ChiChi shifted around, saying slowly, "This sounds an awful lot like a date."
"Yeah, pretty much." Trunks said, smiling at her.
ChiChi blinked a little bit, shaking her head at the boy with Vegeta's arrogance and Bulma's flirtatious sense of humor. She never knew what to do when he would feign attraction for her. This was, after all, Goten's playmate. She'd watched him grow up along with her son, but it seemed like somewhere along the way Trunks forgot to learn shame, "Alright, crazy." ChiChi said, waving him off as she turned around. "While I'm very flattered, whatever it is that you want ought to wait until tomorrow. Why are you here and… all dressed up?"
"I've come to take you out." He said, taking her shoulder. She was almost dizzy as he twirled her back to face him, frustrated at the gesture she tilted her head to the side and glared hard at his hand like he needed to remove it, quickly. This was infinitely amusing to him as he was truly interested in seeing exactly how far he could push her before she would declare war on him and start fighting, or try to throw him out of the window.
"Trunks, I'm married. That was why I just threw Yamucha out the window." ChiChi said this very sternly, still glaring at his hand. He fought the battle to not laugh and won. She put her smaller hand over his, squeezing it roughly as she yanked it off.
"Are you going to do that to me, too?" Trunks asked pleasantly.
She narrowed her eyes, turning to watch him sharply, "Maybe."
"Like I said," Trunks said with a grin, "age can't possibly mean that much."
Chichi stormed to the door, "I need you to go now, Trunks. Thanks for the visit." She's rushing in her words and breathing because she doesn't know what exactly to do or how to handle the situation.
"Come on, ChiChi!" Trunks said, throwing his arms in the air with frustration. The second she stepped outside, he pushed his hand on the door so that she couldn't re-enter without hearing him out. "Can you seriously tell me that you're happy just sitting around waiting for the next time something too big for Yamcha comes around and your husband has to return so you can cook for him and maybe he'll throw you a bone and screw you?"
"Trunks!" ChiChi roared, "That was out of line!" She grits her teeth and balled her fists at him, "Don't speak that way about my husband or our relationship!"
"ChiChi, wake up! He's a deadbeat and he doesn't love you. I love you, and I'm telling you this for your own good. "
Chichi flinched at his harsh words. It was as if he was furious with her for loving Gokou. How could anyone blame her for loving Son Gokou?
He watches her, his eyes sparkling in the moonlight. His voice got too soft for her liking, and it was a low murmur when he said, "I don't want you to be afraid of me, ChiChi." Stroking her cheek, taking mental notes on how the flesh was still soft, he purred, "In fact, I want this to be a big moment for you."
"A big moment? What are you taking about?" ChiChi asked, blinking a little bit in disbelief and confusion.
"Well," Trunks said, smiling, "I just mean that I think that this is the moment that I show you what it's like to be with a real man."
ChiChi blinked a little bit, stepping back, "No…."
"Look, ChiChi, don't worry, I'm not going to do anything you don't want me to do." Trunks said, very calmly with his warm paw still on her cheek. ChiChi seemed to be spitting venom at him with her obsidian eyes, but Trunks just continued in a cheerful tone, "I'm not a freak or anything, you know, Chi."
"The Hell you will!" ChiChi screeched, pushing him back and down the steps of their porch.
Kick. Punch. Block. ChiChi kept her hands sharp, and he was impressed at how on guard she was. The beautiful fighter had never stopped or slowed down and he bet her husband never even noticed or appreciated her strength. Her movements were in this precious pattern that bore telling similarity to Goten's fighting style. It was heartwarming.
As he slapped away her last attack, he looked up as if in thought, "You know, I just want to let you know I'll still be Goten's best friend."
"Trunks!" ChiChi snapped. She could barely see straight. Trunks had waltzed her right into this bizarre shock-induced place and what truly unnerved her was Trunks' demeanor-the culmination of arrogance and self-confidence along with sarcasm and even what she assumed to be his warped version of chivalry.
"Well, we can hide our affair, if propriety is all you're worried about. I'm fine with that-for now." Trunks grabbed her hand, pulling her a little closer to his chest, "I'm a gentleman."
"Absolutely not!" ChiChi bellowed, gathering power in the night. As she launched her attack on him, Trunks savored the faint scent of cinnamon and something sweet that seemed to lurk about ChiChi indefinitely. He wanted to test her strength and agility, but the largest problem seemed to be the fact that ChiChi wasn't pulling any punches. The attack she launched on him was pretty impressive, all things considered. She kept him moving, he liked that.
He was distracted by something like a cross between a battle cry and a moan of frustration, "I trained Goten, you know! I can tell when you're faking, Trunks!"
"Well, first you want to fight and now you know it's a losing battle and you want me to win? I'm trying to give you what you want, Chi-Chan!" He crosses his arms over his chest almost even managing to look innocent.
What a nightmare! ChiChi looked at him. "ChiChi, you're over-worked and under-sexed. Come on."
"I'm not just going to go to bed with you, Trunks!" She couldn't believe the words had even come out of her mouth. She could hardly believe any of this was going on.
"It could be a really fun time." he says, trying again to get close to her. "Don't you want to have a fun time with me?"
"My husband-"
"You know, Chi, tonight's really not going to be very fun if you keep mentioning him."
ChiChi watched him, shaking her head in indignity and aggravation.
Still Trunks watched her, his eyes all shiny and lit up. "I can feel you now. I can practically taste you now. You want me." Trunks held ChiChi's wrists, "Just give it a shot."
As he bent down a blush crossed her cheeks and he just looked at her with a smile on his lips.
"Aren't you tired of being happy housewife to Son Gokou, deadbeat father and asexual moron extraordinaire?"
"Of course I am!" ChiChi snapped.
Progress! She'd thought to respond for herself and not in his defense. He couldn't hide the smile, wide and genuine and excited. This was probably the first time she'd spoken on impulse about her discontent in a long while. "Now that's better." He looked down at her. ChiChi turned scarlet. 'I made you blush! How adorable! '
He looked down at her with gentle adoration and brushed a strand of hair away from her cheek. She could not break the chains of his gaze, although she managed to blink a few times, trying to register the boy before her. As he stroked her cheek with his thumb, he was murmuring, "I've been waiting for you."
He knew he was going to have to do something quickly before she started trying to fight him again, and he thought it would completely ruin the romance if he had to beat her in battle on their first date. He rested his lips on hers, waiting for a reaction, and when he saw how red her face was he felt a twinge of victory.
"You and me, we're the only ones that see him for what he really is." Trunks said, slowly bending down to brush his lips against hers once again. He did it once, twice, a third time before he felt her trembling in his loose embrace. "Come on, you and me, we know he's such a great guy, but don't you deserve something too? I'm not asking you to give up your marriage; I just want you to let me love you tonight."
ChiChi shook her head, "I can't just decide when I want to be married and when I don't, no matter how much I don't agree with some of the things Gokou does, or get hurt by them. I'm not going to sleep with you out of spite, either."
Trunks looked down on her, taking in the details on her face: her lips, her eyes, the arch of her brow and the sweat from her frustration and a day's worth of housework sitting on it, the exhaustion under her eyes, and somewhere deep inside the seeds of desire planted. He needed something, an elaborate lie.
"I'll tell you what. I'll do something, something crazy that will assuredly get Gokou's attention and if he comes here to stop us, if he realizes that you need him and comes to your rescue then I'll take the beating."
ChiChi stared at Trunks.
"But if he doesn't, if he doesn't come then I want you to promise me something. Promise me that for one night you'll only think about what you want, and you will forget him."
ChiChi continued to grudgingly listen to Trunks. "What are you going to do?" She asked, slowly, narrowing her eyes with suspicion and distrust.
"Let me worry about that. I would never hurt you but we have to make him think that you are, right?"
ChiChi watched as Trunks began to pace. "Why does he have to think I'm hurt?"
"Because why else would he have a reason to come rushing over here?" Trunks grabbed ChiChi by the waist, "He needs something to save you from." And then his eyes lit up, and he leaned in and lips hot on her earlobe, began to unbutton her skirt.
I'll make your husband come, but not until after I've gotten what I want. He'll have something fun to wake up to, I promise.
"Trunks Briefs!" ChiChi hissed, shivering when her bare skin began to meet the cold evening breeze. "I'm not going to do this with you-outside."
He smiled at her, "Of course." Lifting her in his arms, he opened the door. "I'll leave it open just for extra effect when he gets here." Trunks said.
ChiChi looked around.
"Maybe the place should look a little messed up."
"Trunks!" ChiChi snapped. He was really starting to enjoy the sound of his name on her tongue. He knocked a lamp over and set her on what undoubtedly used to be Gohan's study desk. Running his tongue down her collarbone, he takes off his jacket, and to his surprise her hands are already working on the buttons of his shirt.
Despite himself, he gets caught up in watching her: her knit brow, the little bead of sweat forming across her forehead. "You're so beautiful." He breathes, and she feels something electric run from her chest straight down to her toes. He's pulling open her blouse and marveling at how soft her shoulders feel when he pushes it off of her.
He's sucking everything he can, using his free hand to explore her other breast, and she can't help but be flattered at how he seems kind of like a boy in a candy shop, glossy-eyed and fascinated with her body. "You're like an angel," he mutters a few times, and when he hooks his thumbs in her underwear and pulls them down, he brushes her thighs with his lips and looks up at her, watching her reaction.
ChiChi looked at him, and without looking down her hands found his belt. He could barely breathe as Son ChiChi's hands were so close to his naked body he could feel their warmth. He sucked in air like it hurt.
Wrapping her legs around his waist, Trunks stepped out of his clothes and pulled her onto himself as he sat on her kitchen table. When his head brushed against a bowl with fruit, her hand shot forward, throwing it to the ground where it would wait, discarded and unimportant and untouched until the morning.
He groaned her name as she rocked back and forth on top of him, moving his mouth over hers and tasting her tongue as it danced over his in a panicked frenzy.
Good things come to those who wait:
He put his hand over hers. "Chi-Chan, you work too hard."
"You know, any other boy your age would be out running around like Goten. You're so sweet and well-mannered to help an old woman out!" She looked over at me with a smile, "You're a good boy, Trunks."
"I just want to help you." He wanted an intimate moment with her; just for once they could be alone. He would be happy sitting alone with her doing busy work around the house.
Goten was nowhere to be found.
Poor young prince, so frustrated at what he didn't know one day he would finally have.
Her breathing has subsided only slightly
Amazed at her stamina, when he finally put her to bed, he brushed a few strands of hair away from her cheek. He slid in on the other side of the bed, wrapping his arms around her waist, "Do you want to wake up next to me tomorrow?"
ChiChi looked at Trunks. She didn't exactly nod but she didn't reject the idea entirely either.
"Look, I've always had a thing for you. I know you don't approve of my forward methods, but…" He says, trailing off with his voice and a little smile, "maybe we can do this again someday."
Sooner than you think.
"Trunks!" ChiChi says with dignity and aggravation. She's a little coyer, though, and he doesn't miss the blush on her cheeks. He brushes his lips over her forehead.
"Just think about it." Trunks says with a smile over his face. He closes the door behind. With a smile he walked out of the disheveled Son house to see Yamucha has passed out on the rock that ChiChi threw him on. He's kind of hugging it, kind of drooling on it, and with this Trunks gives him a blunt kick in the stomach.
Now to keep my promise. I'll make Gokou come, ChiChi. I'll do something immediate and violent and he'll race over.
With a gasp, he's awake and looking at Trunks "Hey!"
"We have business." I said, picking him up by his suit. I wonder where ChiChi thinks I'm taking him when we fly away together, or if she's even still awake.
The sun was shining. The ki blast engulfed his body, and it was more than Yamucha was worth. He deserved a more painful, prolonged sort of death but Trunks had been good enough to give him something simple and quick.
He looked back at the Son cabin, where ChiChi was undoubtedly still naked, asleep. He could picture her in ten, fifteen minutes when Son Gokou bursts through the door having found Yamucha's fried remains outside and looked up to find the door to his house open with furniture overturned and broken frames and tokens everywhere.
Trunks could imagine the look of shock on his face, as Son Gokou would slowly move towards his bedroom door, unsure as to whether an enemy was close and just hiding, wondering every step of the way about whether or not his wife was alright and what had happened. As he fretted, he finally made it, and with a push of the door, there he would find his wife, naked with a blush on her cheeks, covered only from the lower part of her body with a thin sheet, a satisfied smile placed on her lips as she whispered, "Trunks… oh, Trunks…" in her sleep.
-CL