A/N: Rated M under the 'Room 98' subheading!
Disclaimer: Again, I do not own Dragon Ball Z or anything related to the franchise.
- CHAPTER 10 -
"Pan, are you—why are you back so soon?" Marron yawned into the back of her hand, staring at the breathless girl at her door.
She froze, unsure what to say.
...
"Pan?" Marron asked again, more alert now. "Did something happen?" Her face was now riddled with concern, feeling uneasy at the stressed look on her friend's mug. The blonde tucked a strand behind her ear, waiting for some kind of answer. Had her idea been a bad one? She felt guilty, if so.
The girl in question paused, biting her lip. She opened up her mouth to speak, but unintentionally shut it. Pan could feel herself hesitating for the truth. She was damning herself internally. Why was she holding back? Was she really choosing a side here! If so, then whose—Bra's? Goten's? The good? Bad? Could she keep such a thing from Marron, could she? Was it even hers to tell? What kind of person was she if she lied?
And what if she didn't?
Too many questions, not enough answers, she cursed to herself. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit—why couldn't she get it out? Her best friend was making out with her uncle, who's engaged to her other best friend, who is also standing right in front of her and staring at her like a complete—shit.
Marron raised a brow, coughing again and feeling awkward from the long silence. Her mind only scrambled with the possibilities of things going wrong. Maybe she overestimated Pan's confidence, or maybe it was Trunks. He was a pretty cocky person himself, and maybe he didn't like directness from the girls he dated. Then again, if he did, Pan was sure a hell of pick for any kind of passiveness. Don't like forces repel? she rambled in her thoughts. She didn't know! She taught history, not science!
Finally, a thud stopped both their internal monologues. Marron looked up to see a spilled pencil jar pooling at Pan's feet. The younger of two blushed, forgetting that her ki was controlled by her emotions. She must've released a bit while she was thinking. At least, she didn't blow anything up. The bill was already high with the emptied mini-bar.
"I'm—" Pan looked around, grabbing the nearest thing to her: a pen. She haphazardly tidied up the mess of writing utensils before giving a half-smile, hoping her small blunder wouldn't be obvious. "—uh, I just needed something to write with! I'll be back. Just, um, go back asleep," she insisted. Before she could be questioned any further, the quarter Saiyan left the room, closing the door behind her.
- THE NEXT MORNING -
Trunks scratched his nose, feeling something paper-like itching his bridge. When he opened his eyes, he indeed found something paper-like. A note, to be specific. He sat up from his bed, looking over to the unslept side and regrettably sighing. Maybe he should've talked to Goten before he left last night. That would've been the appropriate thing to do instead of just falling asleep.
He leaned back against the headboard, glancing over to the brightly lit snow before unfolding the stationery in his hands. It read:
hey prince—
came to your room obviously. you fast asleep. i in a hurry. note should suffice until i get back. gonna head to W.C. w/ bra. nothing serious. girl things. don't question. snowball fight #2 when i get back?—p
(p.s—fyi, goten w/ uub. check marron. me pay for minibar & most important thing: come back 2 room 98)
The next-in-line Saiyan Prince snorted, wondering how many more bad grammar notes from Pan he'll receive in the future and smiling at the emphasis on 'important'. The idea was both endearing and intriguing to his curious mind.
He squinted at additive, wondering if she naturally wrote this messy or if she partook in emptying the minibar with Marron. She was more of a fighter than a writer, he supposed. Regardless, he only folded it back and reached over to the floor to tuck the note in his suitcase. Trunks then rolled out of bed, threw on a moss-green sweater and decided to get some coffee. He hadn't had a day of solitude in a long while.
- GRAVITY ROOM/WEST CITY -
The real Saiyan Prince sat with a brood, tapping his agitated fingers against his sharp jaw and sighing heavily. Not only did his student and child returned the night before, for a so-called 'brief' visit, they took over his second favorite room and interrupted his summer workout schedule. He parked his bottom on the floor beside the large metal door, cursing Bulma for making it soundproof. He couldn't even see what was happening because Bra disabled the cameras!
Bulma stretched her arms, emerging from her small garage where she worked on her more larger projects, and walking down her familiar hallway. Since her son was away still, she had taken back the presidential office she once adored, and from time to time, sat back at the head of table in board meetings, business pitches, and endless PowerPoints. Oh, she hated those. She couldn't be away from her real office, however. Thankfully, she had three assistants at her beck and call, allowing Ms. Olive some vacation time too.
She heard familiar footsteps trailing not so far behind, but didn't bother to halt. What caught her attention was her husband—though not different from his usual face—sulking in his blue spandex suit outside of his office.
She couldn't help but roll her eyes.
If he even thought to mess up the Gravity Room again, when she worked so hard to make it apart of their home so he didn't have to walk outside in the summer heat, then he had another thing coming!
"Vegeta," he heard, as if he needed another reason to be irritated. His gazed reached the owner of the voice, letting out a sigh and reading her thoughts exactly. After being with someone for so long, it was not hard to figure out why she was upset.
"I didn't break it," he said simply. His infamous vein throbbed as he tried to remain his cool. "Your daughter and her friend have been in there since last night, and Kami knows why! Wasting my time like this," he sneered under this breath. His emphasis on possessive pronouns didn't go unnoticed. He always did that, blaming her for things when he was even mildly upset. She recalled the incident of her refrigerator being 'broken' because somehow he misplaced a can of soda.
Bulma opened her mouth to retaliate, and then stopped to comprehend the information being passed to her. Her head perked up in curiosity. "What are the girls doing back so soon?" she turned her head, as if she could see past their metal walls. "Is Trunks here too?"
The soreness disappeared from his face as it did her tone. She always had a way of doing that, changing his mood to match hers. He let out a defeated sigh, actually missing his home being filled with loud children running about. They weren't children anymore, granted, but being Bulma's children, they were loud. With his in-laws now dead, their colossal space only seemed to grow silent during the day. It wasn't an enjoyable sound, even if he would never admit it.
"I didn't see him," he answered as she crashed beside him, aligning her posture with his. Bulma let out a sigh before laying her head on his shoulder, causing him to blush. After all this time, she still managed to make him feel like—well to be fair, he didn't have a proper word. It was just strange. He didn't mind strange, but it always caught him off guard. He spoke lower, knowing there was no point of yelling if she was this close. "And to answer your question, I have no idea what they're doing back. They locked me out and left me a note saying that they were using it for the day."
"I see," she whispered, warming up his skin with her breath. The answer only made Bulma caress his shoulder even more, deepening the crimson across his face. "Well, I hope they stay for a bit and catch us up with everything going on. Are you just going to wait here the entire time?"
He turned his head, not answering but rather grimacing at the ease he was feeling. Granted, he knew he wasn't in danger or needed to be on guard—he was far from anything serious, actually. He was at home, a fortress designed with the highest security measures, and he was beside his wife, a sometimes hot-headed but still gentle woman. After all, it was her kindness that invited him to live with her, to even begin a family together.
Still, his mind never aligned calmness with comfort. Times of peace made him anxious. He once lived as a danger to any form a life, destroying everything from the greatest foes to the smallest leaf on trees. He knew exactly what was out there. Now, he had people to protect. He couldn't help but feel a bit apprehensive for retribution.
Bulma stared at the man she married so late. After raising a teenaged son and the world ending a few times, it took them another two years to decidedly get hitched. For two admittedly fiery and feisty people, their stubborn love came slow and uneasy, with lots of learning and unlearning of what they knew in the past, and even a bit of themselves. Vegeta always surprised her, whether it be her own feelings or just him in general. However, knowing the face in his look now, she was pleasantly not shocked. She refrained from questions, resting her head back on his shoulder.
They sat for a moment in silence. Finally, the steps following behind the respected scientist was now coming closer and stopping in front of them. There stood Shu, the anthropomorphic dog; Pilaf, the "monkey" or so her children called; and Mai, the woman who traded her combat boots for sneakers. (Bulma respected that she didn't feel right in heels). Finally reaching the age she first met them as a teenager, their now-boss felt a bit dumbfounded for not recognizing them sooner, having hosted them for years as they worked around her house for free meals and rooms.
Though, Bulma guessed, it was better to have them working as her assistants instead of chasing after the dragon balls. She couldn't imagine the type of trouble a few demi-Saiyans and trained human fighters would do if they bothered to try. At least, they made up for their past lives living with her and her family. She was not one to judge, after all.
"Everything is up to par at the office," Pilaf spoke proudly. He was always the one to take the lead, and liked when the Brief woman gave him supervising duties. Bulma nodded, rising from her seat and gaining an unamused stare from Vegeta as he noticed something missing under her skirt.
Shu then added, "With Trunks gone, a few of the female interns have decidedly worked harder!" The other two with him looked at him as if he had two heads. Though after some time, Bulma seemed unaffected by his blunt commentary. The dog blushed, "What? Did I say something wrong?"
"No," Bulma encouraged, turning to her husband still on the floor. He looked away, and she refrained from smirking. Instead, she said, "Vegeta, leave the girls alone. They'll come out when they want to. I doubt they'd want to stay away from the trip for long."
"Hmmph," he muttered as he got up. Without another word, he turned away and walked in the opposite direction. She then mentally timed herself, knowing how long he would get a snack and return to their room for a short nap. This time she did smirk, plotting how little sleep he was going to get.
Mai raised an eyebrow at the devious look on the other woman's face. "Uh, Bulma?" she coughed.
Without a single word, the Brief woman turned and gestured for her assistants to follow, listing tasks she had as they headed into her other lab. Suddenly, a loud crash stopped her, forcing everyone to run to the source of the noise.
Outside the Gravity Room, the metal bolted door was now shattered on the ground. Vegeta looked at his wife as the two laying against the scraps resorted to hair pulling. An empty brown canvas bag sprawled out beside them; a few senzu beans laid adjacent. "Somebody grab them!" Bulma yelled, earning a haste of unwillingness.
Vegeta held onto his daughter as Mai, Shu, and Pilaf struggled to grab onto Pan. Bulma rushed into the room, sighing in relief to find only the door broken. However, seeing that the last setting for the GR had been 760G, she could only thank something like artificial gravity for slowing them down. She walked back outside, but only found a group of grimaces and gnashing teeth.
"What's the matter with you two!" Vegeta barked, pulling hold onto Bra with more effort than he presumed. Though he was impressed with her strength, he was not one to excuse her immature behavior. At least, Pan stopped giving the other three a difficult time. His daughter was still putting up a fight.
Bra then spat, hitting the other girl in the eye. In another moment, Vegeta found himself dodging fists as all three stumbled onto the ground.
Pan pounded onto the floor, losing her guard. Before she could make another move, Bra swung and decked her in the jaw. It wasn't until two large shadows caught her that she finally stopped.
Goku and Piccolo each grabbed a part of Pan's shoulders as Vegeta helped his daughter up. All three men held confused expressions. The last fight they had to break up between Bra and Pan was when they were toddlers—and even then, all of them only froze at the strange sight. They weren't sure what another one would even mean.
The usually cheerful Goku changed his happy grin to a serious glare. "We sensed something wrong, but this isn't what we expected," he spoke, allowing the four behind him to catch up. Before anyone could say something else, Bulma came between the two and slapped both girls, getting them out of their trance of anger and earning wide eyes from everyone around them.
Bulma tapped an impatient foot. "Is anyone going to explain to me what's going on here?" she asked, directing the question to the two girls turning away. "Well?"
Bra remained quiet, not wanting to reveal the real reason they were in there.
The night before, things had gotten out of hand. She found herself leading Goten back to her room, completely careless of what consequences ensued. Though, it wasn't at much protest from him. It all happened fast. Then, before another line was crossed, however, Pan had appeared and pushed her to the ground. The older girl only glared at her uncle before he retreated inside the room, closing the door immediately behind him and abandoning her! There, Pan sat on top of her in the hallway, telling her to get up.
She couldn't even protest as the older one dragged her to another hallway, told her to wait outside as she went in for few minutes, and then transmitted them both in front of the Gravity Room. "I'm so disappointed in you!" was what began their verbal spout. Bra couldn't help but feel defensive as her so-called best friend was being so mean to her—and, well, she may have let it slip that Pan was only one of her brother's latest conquests. It was a poor choice of words, but neither of them were letting up.
That's when the punches began.
Pan furrowed her brows, hating that she was born first. By default, everyone looked to her for some sort of answer. She only sighed, refraining from rolling her eyes like a teenager full of angst. They were adults now, after all. "It was nothing," she said, surprising the other. "We were training, and we got too into it. Sorry for damaging the room, Bulma."
"Yeah. Sorry, Mom," Bra quickly muttered afterwards, as she didn't want to be questioned either. The men let go of the girls, dropping them to the floor and watching them dust off their clothes. The younger girl wiped the blood from her lips as the older counted the holes in her gi. They were ignoring each other now, but at least they weren't fighting anymore.
Bulma sighed, putting on the best smile she could. "Well, you two might as well clean up so we could have lunch together! I want to know all the trouble you six are getting into," she chuckled, earning bewildered looks from the rest of the group. "We could go out and try this new place I—"
"Sorry, Bulma," Pan interrupted. Bra stared at her, wondering what was going on in her head. She wasn't used to being in a fight with Pan, and it seemed like the other girl was just as clueless on how to make it better. "I was going to go check on my Grandpa Satan, and then pick up food for Trunks to make up for today. I don't want to keep him waiting. We were going to head back after we used the room."
At least she said 'we', Bra supposed. Though, admittedly, that didn't make her feel so united.
Vegeta then let out a snort, causing everyone to turn their heads. "So the boy actually did it?" he asked his student. Pan rolled her eyes as a blush flushed her cheeks. However, that only egged on the old man's amusement.
Bulma squinted, darting her eyes between her husband and his prime student. She was suspicious. She retorted, "The last time I heard that weird laugh, you were planning to take over the universe because you thought Goku and Frieza died together on Namek!"
"I remember that," Piccolo commented in his husked voice.
Vegeta's chuckle stopped. "Don't bring that up!" he snapped, earning a contagious giggle from the man mentioned. There was always something about Goku's laugh that made everything so lighthearted, even the two hybrid girls were smiling a bit. Vegeta then finished his words,"If you must know, the girl is romantically involved with the boy." He then let out a snort, turning to his daughter, "I'm assuming this fight is simply welcoming her to the family."
Bra only looked away, unresponsive to her father. She wasn't in the mood to talk. In fact, she wasn't in the mood to do much of anything. The youngest Brief heiress turned to her mother and sighed, "If it's alright with you, I'm just going to head back to the others."
Bulma snapped her head so fast; it almost looked like her neck was going to break. "Wait, no!" the older Brief woman argued. "You two can't just drop this on me and leave again! How the heck did Prince Badman know and not me!"
"I only wore that shirt once!" scoffed the alleged Prince Badman, folding his arms. Piccolo and Goku refrained from laughing, recalling the bubblegum pink shirt Vegeta once donned.
He was ignored by his girls, however. "Mom, if you want to know about Pan and Trunks, then Pan can tell you all about it. There's really no point of me staying," Bra heaved, frowning a bit.
Pan then shrugged, a disinterested look on her face. "There's not much to say. I mean, who knows? I just might be one of his latest conquests. After all, it's a modern age. Monogamy isn't a thing," she knew the last part was meant to purposely hurt Bra, but she regretted it once it left her lips. Anger never suited her, and she always spouted things she never meant. However, her pride was telling her not to apologize. Not now.
She looked to her so-called best friend, ignoring all the curious looks surrounding them. No point was made today, and they both knew it.
- ROOM 98 -
Trunks unbuckled his boots and kicked them away from his reclaimed mattress. After unpacking yet again, he was glad to be back in his original room, the one he shared with Pan. Marron had agreed to give it back in exchange for trading rooms with Uub. She wasn't ready to be back with Goten, and Trunks could understand why—he had spent the whole day avoiding the both of them!
Thankfully, Marron only supposed that Goten needed some time and respected that. Hungover and tired, she wasn't in the mood to start any arguments with anybody. She gladly gave Trunks back the room key as long as he arranged everything himself. Uub didn't mind bunking with Goten, and they all supposed it was for the best. With Bra, Marron could still have much needed girl-talk and Trunks wouldn't have to spend another night alone.
The cold was putting everyone in a bad head space, and it made him pout. He always loved the snow, especially when he wasn't in the city. With the chaos that came from being a Brief, as well as being the son of Vegeta, he grew attached to the calm atmosphere. No paparazzi. No fiery parents debating. No explosions from labs, or beeping telephones from offices. It was all calm. Serene, even.
All of this nonsense in fighting wasn't supposed to be here. It would've been nice to sit down and have dinner with everyone else, their little family of next generation protectors. Unlike their parents and older friends, with a couple of exceptions, they were birthed to be together. They didn't have to go out of their way to find each other, nor did they ever leave one truly alone.
He let out a sigh, wishing right now was one of those times for that sentence to be completely true. He was a bit worried of everyone's whereabouts.
The Brief man stretched his long arms, wiggling out of his moss-green sweater. He had spent his morning at the cafe, and then went snowboarding all afternoon. He attempted to call Pan, but stopped once he saw her cellphone on the nightstand. He should've expected that. At least, she left him a note from earlier.
He fell back on the bed with his eyes shut, only widening them as she materialized on top of him. What impeccable timing, he refrained from snorting. The Satan-Son hybrid only gave him a small wave, settling into her new seat. "Hello," she smiled.
"H-hey, yourself," he stammered. He then thought to ask the most logical thing, "So, where's my sister?"
Pan let out a sigh.
"Flying back by herself. We're in a fight and I don't want to talk about it," she said shortly. As she pulled on the knot that held the orange fabric together, he noticed the various burned holes and scratches all over her arms. He raised an eyebrow, but she only shut him down. "I told everyone I was going to visit my Grandpa Satan, but what do you know? He and Buu are somewhere tropical and cannot be reached at the moment. Your mom is definitely telling my parents we're together, so I suggest you turn off your phone."
He complied, unsure of what was coming over her, but still holding the power button down before tossing his cellphone aside. When he looked back, she was sliding off her top from her shoulders, uncovering her bare chest to him. He tried to cross his legs at the sudden blood rush he felt, but was stopped. Pan leaned back, allowing him a full view as she held down his thighs.
Trunks opened up his mouth to inquire what exactly was happening, but she only held her ground—or, well, his legs.
"Pan, are you sure you're alright?" he attempted to ask. The girl in question leaned forward wordlessly, gliding her hand to his belt buckle, tugging at the leather strap before dragging her tongue on his neck. He was still wearing a thin t-shirt, but he could feel her erected nipples teasing him as they slid down in the same direction her mouth went.
Trunks tried to ask again, but she only blew on her wet trail, causing him to groan at the sensation. She felt his hips buckle as her hand went lower and squeezed the tightening in his jeans. He let out a gasp, unused to her playing with him in such a way.
Satisfied with the noises he made, Pan planted a hard kiss against his lips before abruptly stopping. Literally. She rolled off of him and didn't even attempt at an explanation. She felt his gaze, and only smirked over her shoulder as she stood beside the bed. He wasn't even trying to hide his growing bulge, and that made her laugh. "Here I thought you were trying to be a gentleman and ask me if I was doing fine," she joked, kicking off her shoes and socks.
"I could do both," he quickly said, watching her undress. If she didn't want to talk, then he was fine with giving her whatever she wanted. Of course, that meant he was going to get his too. Trunks could feel himself getting cocky now, but Pan didn't laugh or respond with her usual witty remark.
"I don't think I want to hear you talk," she said fearlessly, letting gravity finish the job of pooling her outfit at her feet. With her skin now unhidden, he couldn't help being in awe of the flesh and all of its detail. Between the dangerous curves at her edges and the rough trail down her fragile spine, he only felt lost, trying to map out where he wanted to begin first. The scratches etched around her arms and shoulders, the red and purple spots splattered across the soft canvas, the dimples creating craters at the small of her back—there was so much to admire.
He had never been so fascinated at such a figure. How smooth everything seem to connect, and how surreal she seemed. Everything about her shape screamed delicate, but everything about her skin whispered the opposite. She was a fighter, after all. A beautifully stubborn and annoyingly great one, at that. If he wanted to see her weak, she wasn't going to let it be easy—but nothing rushed his blood more than the mere thought of it.
She broke their glance, refusing herself to get back on top of him. A familiar feeling of pride was beginning to consume her, needing to prove something she wasn't sure was even necessary. If she was so secure, then why did a single word irk her so much? Nonetheless, she wanted to know with certainty. Whether or not he knew he was being tested didn't matter. She wasn't a simple conquest, and he was going to prove it.
The fighter sat at the bed opposite to his, sitting at the edge and crossing her legs. She leaned back to prop herself on her elbows and only stared, waiting for his move. She watched as he got up, pulled his undershirt over his head and let his pants dropped. With an unimpressed look, she cocked her head and stared up at him. When he attempted to climb on top of her, she pressed her foot against his chest, shaking her head slightly.
"Don't be hasty," she stopped him. "If you want me to feel better, I want the first one on your tongue," she directed, lowering her leg back down. How audacious she was, being so brave and daring him like this. He cocked an upright smirk, adoring every ounce of ambition she had to get what she wanted.
He let out a snort. "So bossy," he commented, complying to her whims yet again.
Trunks dropped to his knees, spreading her thighs and dragging her closer to the edge. He alternated his kisses, hovering over the dampened strip she still had on and watching her watch him. She was so cool, despite what her body told him. Luckily, he was a fighter too, and a brilliant one.
If she wanted to finish first on his tongue, he was going to see the anticipation on her face until he was in control again.
Trunks switched from soft pecks to teasing licks against the crease of her thighs. He was making it hard to refrain from simply grinding against his mouth. He was still watching her until his mouth hovered her slit. She could feel his eyelashes brushing against her thighs as his saliva mixed with her own wetness, turning her on even more. What was it about a powerful man on his knees for her that made her so weak?
He pressed hard against the cloth that she wished he tore off, before sliding a sneaky finger underneath to play with the throbbing nub of skin. She let out a tight breath as he ran his finger up and down, trying to find her most sensitive part with her moans. The faster they escaped her lips, the more pressure his finger gave in its strokes. But it still wasn't good enough.
He dragged her down lower, using the the palm of his hand to hold her with ease on her dripping core. He teased her opening with his touch and poked inside until she sat on his finger for him and his head leveled with the valley of her chest, amused at her gesture. "Is this it?" he teased, sliding in and out of her as his tongue grazed her salty skin. "You don't want to get more wet for me?"
She let out a laugh, "Ha, let's see if you could make me."
Determined, he flicked his tongue around her sensitive nipple as he played with her clit, matching the momentum as his finger pumped slowly. He then took in the mound to taste, bobbing his head accordingly, allowing her to feel the tug and pressure in a rhythm similar to the way she touched herself. Pan tried not to think of it too much, knowing her own body too well and how to bring herself to come. If he was good enough, maybe one of these days, she'd let him watch.
When he moved to the other breast, she could feel his satisfied chuckle from her moans. She felt a drip of saliva falling onto her stomach, leaving a coolness in its ghost as it trailed down to her hips. His thumb circled around faster, gaining momentum for every short breath she took. He added his free hand into play, fixating on what his mouth could not. "C'mon, give me a reason to taste you," he muttered, taking a sudden trip to her neck, nibbling and leaving marks.
Why he was taking his time was an enigma to her. She practically could hear how wet she was as his fingers came out to tap at her opening, and she couldn't help but blush at the sound being created. He circling faster and faster, and she was tightening, trying to hold on to relief.
Then like what she had done earlier, he abruptly stopped his movements, letting her drop onto his thighs. Much to her dismay, of course. However, he was focused completely on something else.
He settled his elbows beside her, making sure they were face to face. With the hand that was glutinous of her own lust, he pressed a finger against her bottom lip, offering her a taste of herself. When she took in his middle finger into her mouth too, all he did was smirk at the impression she was leaving, making him curious of what else her mouth could play with the same way. He then licked the same finger before diving in her mouth with his tongue.
He couldn't wait. He had to kiss her again. Not only did he want to share, but he wanted to savor her in her own mouth too. Kami, she was hot. She knew it too, grinding her hips against him to tease him just as much. He liked that about her, might actually love that about her. If he wasn't careful now, he'd never leave her.
They interlocked lips once more before before parting, panting at the mess they were already in at simple foreplay. Feeling impatient with his game, Pan pushed Trunks against his bed now, allowing him to use the mattress's edge as a pillow. As she rose from the ground, he helped her step out of her panties and watched her take a seat where she wanted him the most. She was glistening in front of his face, and it only made him more eager when she said, "Please."
Trunks dabbed his tongue against her clit, using his hands to stop her from falling down. She was dripped onto his chin as he sucked and kissed and ran his tongue up and down her slit until she had to crash down to muffle out her moans. He brought her up higher, spreading her even more to expertly slide his tongue against her walls, and dragging the muscle in and out until she came onto his mouth. He refused to slow down, however. He was relentless until he actually felt her tighten against his taste.
He adjusted her on his shoulders before flipping them over completely on the bed. Using his fingers to part her lips, he ran his tongue as her stomach pulsated up and down at her panting. He used her own cream as a lubricant to pump his finger inside her again, adding another one as his mouth pulled away.
"I want you to fuck it," he directed, watching her tirelessly buck her hips against his hand. He made way back to her lips again, the ones he liked kissing. "Faster," he told her, moving his palm in sync. He curled his fingers, causing a shiver to leave her.
When she slowed down, he only picked up the pace, driving her mad. He placed a peck on her temple, telling her how good she was at handling him like this and reminding her this was only a start. The anticipation on her face to come again only made him slow down, torturing her with a tease she did not like.
"You like that, don't you?" she spoke up, causing him to smile. "You want to get me all hot and make me work for it."
"You're cuter when you're squirming," Trunks winked. "Plus, I want to make you feel better. Is that wrong of me?"
Pan shook her head. "No," she brought her lips closer to his. As their noses touch to break apart, she only smiled, whispering softly. "But you're fucking kidding me if you think I want the second one on your hand," she reached for a peck again. "Lips, please."
He already found her hand rubbing herself when he trailed down again. He took out his fingers, replacing them with his tongue so she could finish the job herself. As she flicked a middle finger against the nub of her clit, he listened to her moan in erratic breaths at pleasuring herself. Trunks could help but do the same, reaching a hand down to stroke himself, matching the pace she was going as he watched.
There was no warning when she squirted onto his mouth, leaving him surprised at the sight and her completely unaware of her actions as she lifted her hips to her touch. He tried his best to take it in, but truthfully, he was debating whether it the result of his touches or her own. When she crashed back down onto the mattress, Pan let out an exhausting breath, remembering it had been some time since she had an orgasm like that.
A drop of sweat ran along her inner thigh as she raised her knees on top of the covers, feeling shy now, despite it all. Though the rest of her was beginning to cool from the cold air, her center was still throbbing. Less because she was still unsatisfied, more because she still wanted him inside of her. She was a bit embarassed at wanting him so much, even when her legs were beginning to lose their feeling. It was almost surreal to yearn for a person this much.
"Fuck," she heard him curse, and she looked up to find Trunks dragging a finger along his chest. Her juices had spilled all over him, leaving trails from his jaw to his abdomen. His hair poked up in every direction, and her put-together man was now a disheveled boy. Right then, she let out a laugh into her hand.
He averted his gaze to the woman giggling to herself, and he shook his head. Now, she was being cute and that was simply unfair. How one person managed to be utterly alluring and that charming within minutes was just something else. As he crawled on top of her, the goosebumps against his arms poked out and the body heat they once shared began to dissipate. The snow blizzard against their windows titter-tattered in a soft beat, matching their breaths.
"Want to get under the covers?" he asked, kissing her jaw.
"Definitely," she nodded.
Trunks stood up, allowing her to slide in first before crashing beside her. The mattress was so small that he laid on his side so she wouldn't fall off. They innocently made out as she reached for the lamp light to let the moon's brightness in. With their tired eyes, they rather be like this anyway.
His cerulean eyes reflected the light as her dark ones only seemed to absorb it. What came next was calm, moving at a pace that caused long seconds and short hours.
His forehead slid against hers as his thrusts became erratic. The longer they were intertwined, the less control he was beginning to have. Unfinished kisses turned into unfinished breaths into each other's throats. Their fingers gripped tighter, so nothing fell apart.
When it came to the last few seconds, he settled into the crook of her neck, mumbling curses as he was getting closer and closer to his edge. Her breathing became shorter and shorter against the drum of his ear until something escaped the both of them.
His, against her skin. Hers, on the sheets below.
By morning, they slept soundly. No one had to talk for a long while.
- BACK AT CAPSULE CORP -
The table was filled with wide eyes, dropped jaws, and furrowed eyebrows. There was one eye roll, but he was sitting on the counter to be noticed at the dinner table, anyway. Today, he had a nap and it was not interrupted. Instead, his house began to fill with guests he was hoping not to see until the next group gathering these people tended to have. Of course, his wife sat at the head of the table, nodding proudly at the latest gossip.
Well, he supposed it wasn't gossip if it was true.
"And can you believe Vegeta knew before any of us?!" the infamously cerulean-haired woman called out. He only focused on the food on his plate, holding his usually grumpy look. About earlier how he missed his house being filled with loud children? He took it back, all of it. Adults were worse.
Gohan held the only frown at the table. It was not that he disliked Trunks, or would ever be the one to decide what Pan wants (because his daughter would have an opinion or two on that, certainly). He made the decision long ago that when he wanted her life to be about choice, her choice, and that excluded what he wanted or thought because he also made the decision that he would raise her to always do what's right. So if this is what she wanted, he would be there to support her, regardless if she falls or living happily. That was the duty as a father.
However, he was grimacing at losing more time with her. She was always a free bird, and many parents always admired her independence since she was a baby, even. He was always proud of her because he had done his job—but who's to say he was ever ready to let go? First came that gap year, then came that penthouse, and now she was dating a well-respected friend who he watched grow up, and had more than the necessarily ability to keep up with her free spirit.
He had done everything right, and now it made him miserable.
Videl shot a sympathetic look to her husband, knowing living in Pan's space every few days of the week did not help his yearn for her not to grow up. He was learning things about her that he never figured out, and it only reminded how much he missed her, that beloved child of his. She reached for his hand, gently squeezing it, and offering a smile. Gohan admitted it did help a bit.
Goku rubbed his chin thoughtfully before turning his head to his lifetime rival, even as their hairs now grayed. "Hey Vegeta, so when Trunks and Pan have a kid, who would get to train them? Me or you?" he asked with a mischievous grin, catching the other man's attention.
He scoffed, "Obviously me, Kakarot! I've trained both the girl and boy. It's only fair I train their offspring."
"What?! No! That's not fair! You already said you had both Pan and Trunks. I think I get the kid!" he rebutted with his unaged innocent eyes.
"You left to go train that reincarnation of Buu, so it's your fault you didn't train the girl! Honestly, it only makes sense," Vegeta now joined the table, taking the empty chair beside his wife.
A loud sigh filled the room, and everyone turned to Chichi. She didn't even bothered looking up at them. "I don't know why either of you are fighting about it. We'll all be dead before that kid could say 'kamehameha' anyway."
Vegeta's eyes only widen at the statement, not looking forward to death again, especially in this aging body. Goku, however, only seemed delighted at his wife's choice of words. "She said, 'kamehameha' wave! Meaning I get the kid, yes!" he shouted, yet Chichi only smiled at the sentiment. After so long, he has yet to grow out of his naivety, but she loved it. It kept her young.
Videl glanced at the time before sighing. "You two shouldn't be so sure of yourselves. I'm pretty sure Uncle Piccolo is going to outlive all of us. Special Beam Cannon, anyone?" she laughed, earning an uproar at the table.
A/N: This chapter is actually a cut-off because after re-writing the final installment of this "weekend update," it turned from one day to two, then three, and then a couple of weeks later, which was not my intention ever! It's just all the process of writing. Sometimes you like something one day, and then you don't the next. As you guys know, usually I don't write smut so I was iffy about writing this chapter, but I actually kind of like it!
I didn't want to "resolve" anything just yet because I mean, I just said Pan has to die in order to meet the OC's in the last chapter so I figured let's do something lighthearted and a little nsfw! Plus, nothing that complicated is resolved that quickly. How boring would it been if I told you guys they make up and everything's alright? Wouldn't be much of a story, right! But yes, I'm rambling, anyway...
Thank you, nataliagam, Nice Guest, tpan, Charismatic Beauty, LVR4Trunks-n-Vegeta, nimedhel09, and other Guests, for reading and reviewing! Usually, I promise, I have more genuine responses but with the last three chapters all balled up together, I didn't really consider replying. Thank you so much for still keeping up with the story though and for your feedback! I love reading responses because it makes me considerate of what I want to include in the story and if I'm doing a good job! I appreciate every last one of you, and even those who don't review because that's not obligatory. I'm just thankful when you guys do!
Until next time?