Disclaimer: I am far too lazy to come up with quite a complex series such as Dragon ball Z. I don't own it, nor do I wish I owned it, because that sounds like a lot of work...

Summary: 31 drabbles about Goten and Trunks' winter as a couple.

Word count: 1452

Rated M for language, sexual scenes, etc.

This drabble includes oral sex.

Our First December

Drabble #16- Quilts (Revised)

Goten hung from the ceiling, completely and utterly bored. He wasn't feeling as ill as before—his fever had broken during the night—but they were still at the campus. Most everyone else had already left by car, but Trunks thought they should wait until later that night to fly home, for weather purposes. Goten knew better than to argue about the matter so soon after his 'mishap', but this whole ordeal would be far more tolerable if Trunks didn't have to be such a nerd about it!

"I might as well start my assignments now," Trunks had told him earlier that evening. "I'm just going to procrastinate later, when I actually have other shit to do."

"I am 'shit to do' right now!" Goten protested.

Trunks gave a hint of a smirk. "Do y'all hear something? Sounds like a pest that should stop bothering me and go entertain itself."

And so, without his cellphone to distract him—damn blizzard blowing it to its demise and damn lake water for finishing the job—he found himself sitting cross-legged on the ceiling, trying desperately to amuse himself. Right beneath him sat Trunks at that damn desk, with his legs hidden by a long quilt (Goten himself was cold, but of course Trunks wasn't going to offer him one or anything). His only comment to Goten's position being, "You better not get any dandruff on me!"

Goten had already ran his fingers through his hanging hair and can vouch that he does not have dandruff. He scratched his fingers against his scalp really hard just in case, and hopes that something fell on Trunks. It would serve him right.

He can't stay upset with Trunks though, because even from his position on the ceiling, he can tell that his boyfriend is wound tighter than a screw. Waves of nerves seemed as though they were pouring off of Trunks as he cradled his head with his hand, and he scratched his pencil against the notebook paper with the other.

(To top it off, he kept looking at his cellphone, frowning or quietly cursing, but Goten was still in the dark as to why.)

Goten smiled—he thought it was kind of cool that while upside down, it was technically a frown—because he was very good getting Trunks to 'unwind'. Also, he was beginning to make a connection between Trunks writing papers, that office chair, and sex.

He was beginning to like that office chair.

With that in mind, he released his energy to float down. He flipped over, and promptly sat himself across Trunks' blanket-covered lap.

"What are you doing?" Trunks questions him, his eyes wide from surprise while his hands fell instinctively to Goten's waist.

Goten's kneaded his fingers on Trunks' shoulders. "I'm bored and you're stressed out. Why don't we do something about that?"

Goten leaned in, only to have Trunks turn his head to the side. Goten was undeterred.

"Goten," Trunks says almost breathlessly while the other boy sucked and licked on his warm, red cheek and ear. "Can't we do this later? I just want to finish the first three rough-draft pages."

"Fine, be that way," Goten says, and slides down from Trunks lap until he's under the desk. His foot bumps against the trash bin, and well, he was kind of too big to be down here, but he is not discouraged by this factor. He pulls the bottom of the quilt over his head until his whole body is nearly completely covered.

"What are you doing?" Trunks questions as his knees were spread apart.

Goten peeks out from the quilt. "You told me to stop bothering you and entertain myself. Well, I'm doing just that. Now leave me alone and write your stupid rough-draft." Goten drops the cover back over his head.

"This is bothering me!" Trunks protests. Goten does not reply but rather rubs his cheek against his boyfriend's crotch. Trunks' thighs twitch.

Goten smirks to himself, then shifts his face to spread firm kisses. He then brings his hands up to unbutton Trunks' jeans, and carefully pull down the zipper. He couldn't see much with the blanket hiding the light, but he could still see Trunks' dark navy boxers, and the print of his growing interest.

Goten hums and nuzzles his face against it. Trunks fidgets as Goten darts his tongue out and licks a line up the fabric, spreads more kisses, and latches on to give tiny sucks.

"Goten," Trunks says, squirming underneath the Son's tongue. He can't tell if Trunks' voice is urging him off, or urging him on.

Just in case it's the first reason—and for his own amusement—he peeks out from the blanket, and says, "Vegeta Trunks Brief, how many times do I have to tell you to leave me alone and stop bothering me? I'm trying to do something here, if you have not noticed."

Trunks glares at him. Goten's only reply was a grin and a wink, before he dived under the quilt again.

Once he's settled he grabs the hem of Trunks' briefs—pun intended—and pulls them down until the full package is revealed. Goten presses his nose in the space just underneath Trunks' prick and rubs. Trunks squeaks: "G-Goten!"

The Son in question ignores him and dartd out his tongue, licking and kissing around the base. He trailed his lips and tongue up as he did so, until he was finally at the top. He swirled his tongue around the tip, holding the base with his hand to keep it in place.

"Nngh," Goten hears Trunks moan as his knees shift again.

After a final lick, he slips the tip into his mouth, bobbing his head ever so slightly. Trunks is warm and heavy against his tongue, and he gladly slides a bit more inside. Trunks' toes are curling, and his feet rub restlessly against the carpet as Goten picks up a steady rhythm. He's pretty sure he could do better, but his nose is still a bit stuffed so it's rather difficult to breath. He doesn't let that stop him though, and after every break he takes, he dips back down with even more vigor.

He hears a little snap amid Trunks' little pants. He lifts the quilt over his head just so, and sees that only half of his mechanical pencil is still being squeezed in Trunks' fist. His eyes are closed, his cheeks are deeply pink, and his lips are open as tiny moans and gasps fall from them. His assignment appears to be long forgotten.

Goten, satisfied with the sight, drops the blanket back over his head. He actually wouldn't mind watching Trunks' face while he sucked him off, but he wanted to keep up the little game they were playing. Or at least, the game he was playing.

With the fingers he's got wrapped around Trunks' base, he twists his hand in circles, as his head bobs. When Goten needs air, he pulls off, jacks his fist, and licks and kisses until he's ready to put Trunks in his mouth again. He does this over and over, his jaw getting a bit tired, but Trunks only getting ever so louder.

Then, almost shockingly, Trunks' hand is pressing on the back of Goten's head through the quilt. Goten, triumphant, lets Trunks push him deep, and guide his head back and forth. Trunks' moaning sends shoots of desire through Goten, as his knees squeeze tight against his pale shoulders.

"Goten," Trunks moans over and over, his hand fisting the quilt and Goten's hair underneath it. "Goten... Goten... Goten."

The Son hums as if Trunks is asking him a question, and then hollows his cheeks.

The fingers in his hair tighten. "I'm going to... nngh. Ah!"

He hears Trunks groan out, and then there is hot, thick cum all over his tongue. Goten sucks and jerks until Trunks is done, before letting him slip wetly from his lips. While Trunks fights for his breath back, he leans over towards the waste bin and lets the bitter fluid slip out of his mouth. Swallower he was not.

Goten, utterly satisfied, crawls out from under the desk. He makes his way to Trunks' bed, climbs up, and lies back with his hands behind his head. Trunks glares at him, but the effect is completely ruined by how wrecked he looks. Goten, with equally flushed cheeks enhanced by his pale skin and dark hair, replies by crossing his ankles, and smirking with his reddened, slightly-swollen lips.

Trunks glares for a second longer, before fishing out a new pencil and returning to his work. He is, admittedly, more relaxed than before. He furrows his brow in annoyance.

End

I greatly enjoy the 'do yall hear sumn' meme and I'll be very sad when it is no longer relevant.