A/N: This piece deals with events that happen in between the three year gap from Future Trunks' first arrival to the arrival of the Androids. Here, Gohan is teetering on the edge of boyhood and adolescence. He is young enough to still be calling his parents "mommy" and "daddy," though he's also mature enough (thanks to Chichi constantly making him study) to understand and use words like "pity" correctly. My inspiration for this has to do with a fight that broke out in my house that night. Not that anything like this had to do with it. This is just me throwing my own little sick and twisted spin to it. Enjoy! c:
Warning: Yaoi between an adult and a minor; shota.
Family
Daddy comes every now and then.
Usually more so when he has arguments with Mommy, which have been happening more frequently. At first I usually see him outside. He screams a lot, and turns red. Actually, there are times where he even turns yellow. Or is it gold? Anyway, I think that's what Vegeta means when he says that my father is a "Super Saiyan."
He punches and kicks the air around him, and I can see the little droplets of sweat jumping off of him as he moves. It's like the droplets are his anger, and them making that fateful leap off of his skin is what he wishes he could do. But Daddy knows he'd live if he was to ever do something like that. I'd live, too. I think he gets mad at himself because of that. Sometimes I think he wishes he could be as weak and fragile as Mommy.
When he's done screaming and training, that's usually when he comes into my bedroom. I know he can tell I'm still up, but I pretend to be asleep when he inches his way under my covers. At first he runs his hand through my hair and tells me how much he loves me. Then he kisses my forehead. The palm of his hand then rests on the front of my jammies and his mouth is now kissing my neck. This is usually when I pretend to "wake up," and act all surprised. He softly tells me to be quiet or Mommy will start yelling again, which is something neither of us want. So, I do as Daddy tells me, his hand now rubbing roughly against the front of my jammies.
I don't know why I whine. It doesn't hurt; it feels good! At this point, Daddy begins to lift my shirt up over my head. We both laugh as the collar gets caught under my ear, and then he places his mouth on my nipple. I gasp loudly, and Daddy reminds me about being quiet. I nod my head and apologize, and his hand then slips under my jammies and undies.
I don't know what it is we do next, but it feels really nice. Daddy calls me a good boy after we're done, but I wonder why he says that? Is it because what comes out of me isn't the same as what comes out of him? Does he know that there's something wrong with me, and he pities me for it? Daddy kisses me for a final time and helps me clean up. After that, he helps me get dressed again and tucks me in. When he leaves my room, I can tell it isn't to Mommy's room he goes. No, it feels like he goes far, far away. Even so, Daddy's always back by morning. Maybe what Mommy says is right.
Maybe Daddy and I are really monsters.