Tangled Up in Blue

by SonChan

Goten and Bulla have been entangled in each other's lives for years, but after a recent kiss, both are thrown for a loop. This is only intensified when the Z Gang gets an invitation to visit Planet Souljin, distant cousins to the Saiyans, for a grand celebration. As they travel, Goten and Bulla are plunged into situations where they realize just how much they mean to each other.

12. Chapter 11: Two Moons

Tangled Up in Blue

Disclaimers: I do not own DBZ/GT; credit to Majin_Angel_Chan from DBU for the title of Planet Souljin and the character Kail, all other characters are my own.

Author's Note: Thank you all for the wonderful feedback with the last chapter. It was so special to finally get to the scene that inspired this whole story, and I'm thrilled people enjoyed it. I apologize for the delay with this chapter; I've had a wild couple of months with some additional projects on my plate so thank you for your patience. Just a heads up, there will be some spicy themes starting in this chapter and will be more prominent from here on out.

Playlist Chapter Recommendations: Two Moons, Moon, Elysium in the Deep Blue. Wretched, all i see is blue

---

Chapter 11: Two Moons

Footsteps, heartbeats…it was difficult to know which noise thumped in her head the loudest.

Bulla hung onto Goten's arm for dear life as they started to peruse the water gardens. Though Bulla had glimpses of the greenery here and there, it was her first time officially strolling through. The flora and vegetal were different from what they were accustomed to on Earth, and yet, managed to still be breathtaking. Amidst a multitude of fountains and makeshift ponds were marbled structures, ranging from arches to gazebos, to the stalwart statues found also in the palace entrance. Ivy-coated columns dwarfed the two demi-Saiyans, with trees akin to cherry blossoms offering their fragrance as they passed. Lanterns lit the way, although with both full moons overhead, there was plenty of light to be had.

In the background, she could still hear the orchestra playing from the ballroom. Feeling content, Bulla hummed along as best she could, just trying to enjoy the moment. She tightened both arms further around Goten's own, a pleased sigh escaping her lips. The tender noise prompted him to pull her closer, his own smile evident on his face.

Internally, Goten was the complete opposite of the cool and collected façade he demonstrated on the outside. His stomach plummeted multiple times as he attempted to figure out what to say, instead opting for prolonged silence between the two as they wandered. The moment felt so serene, the half-Saiyan didn't want to risk ruining it with the wrong words.

Luckily, he didn't have to worry for long as the gorgeous flower-covered pergolas diverted Bulla's attention.

"Oh, look!" Bulla pointed excitedly, her one arm still locked around Goten's arm. She turned to him and grinned before releasing her grip and heading towards the flowers.

Goten observed her flowy gown sparkling as she glided over. Seeing Bulla's mood improved from earlier in the night made his heart soar. The way she looked at Souljin and the newness of their surroundings endeared him. There was an earnestness to her he always had appreciated, but was especially thankful for it this evening.

Diving in nose-first to a fragrant bouquet of purple flowers, Bulla tucked her hair behind her ears and hummed contentedly.

"Aren't they beautiful?" she asked her companion. As a perfectly white smile spread across her face, the moonlight gave her an ethereal glow. Bulla's radiance could be seen from miles away. Goten forgot to breathe for a moment as he admired her.

"You are," he said without missing a beat.

Bulla blushed at his words. Realizing his mistake, Goten corrected himself. "I mean, they are…" he agreed softly.

Still awestruck by his charming compliment, Bulla shyly tucked another piece of hair behind her ears. Her aqua eyes deviated downwards, her grin broader than before. She cleared her throat as she resumed her strolling, Goten in tow behind her.

Catching her attention nearby were additional fountainheads that decorated the vast water gardens. Massive in size and complex in detail, Bulla marveled at their artistry. She and Pan had only seen a couple near the front during their night of overindulgence. The further they walked the gardens, the more intricate the fountains became. A slight simper formed when Bulla realized she was in a much better state of mind to explore than she had a few days prior.

Bunching part of her dress in her hand, the princess headed towards the fountain. Bulla stepped onto it with ease and balanced herself. With one foot in front of the other, she made her way onto the ledge. Seeing a glimpse of her stilettos poke through the dress slit, Goten's eyes widened.

"Careful now," he said, a slight hint of worry mixed with amusement in his voice. The older halfling remained near the Saiyan Princess' side as she continued her balancing act, undaunted.

"Please," Bulla replied with a snort. A few more steps and she tossed her hair over her shoulder to look back at him. Batting her eyelashes, a mischievous grin formed on the heiress' face.

"I am the embodiment of grace," Bulla finished.

As if on cue, her next step onto a small patch of water sent the princess into the air; her ki control slipping as fast as she was. Goten immediately sprang into action. Before the expected impact, Bulla looked up to see Goten's smirking form staring down at her in his arms. He caught her in the nick of time.

"Grace and humility," the older hybrid teased.

Bulla blushed at the contact, as well as a twinge of embarrassment at her hubris. The briefest chuckle emanated from the bluette's closed mouth. She peered into the black irises facing her, feeling the severity of their gaze. Though the expression was more humored than anything, Bulla sensed a layered severity behind them that Goten seemed to keep at bay.

"Point taken," Bulla responded, humbler than before.

She heard Goten's own quiet laugh kept inside his throat whilst he lowered her to her feet. Still keeping her arms locked around his neck, Bulla pressed against his armor without breaking her stare. All the jitters in her belly gnawed like scratches trying to break the skin. When she hadn't pulled away yet, Goten's eyebrow raised.

"You okay, B-Chan? Need to sit?"

His head tossed to the side, acknowledging a nearby bench in the gardens that overlooked the ponds and castle grounds. Far enough away from the view of the ballroom terrace, but right under the stars and two moons. Bulla broke her eye contact with him as her attention turned to the bench in question. Rather lightheaded from it all, the heiress nodded in agreement.

Goten escorted her with his arm once more as the two made their way over to sit. While Bulla would have been fine to stand, the relief at being off her heels for the first time all night was evident. A large sigh rang out and Goten beamed as he took his seat.

"Much better," he commented.

The bright blue of Bulla's eyes twinkled in the moonlight. It was hard not to smile like a schoolgirl in the presence of Goten; his charm and affability was second to none. He kept a respectable space between them, not making any presumptions.

"So, Ten," Bulla cocked her head in his direction, "where did you pick up those dance moves?"

Laughing, Goten put one arm behind his head. "Honestly? Couldn't tell you," he replied somewhat shyly, "a mix of my martial arts training and just observations over the years. Nothing special."

Bulla's throat reverberated with a pleased noise. "Modesty? From Son Goten?" she joked.

"Don't act so surprised, Briefs."

"I'm positively shocked!"

She dramatically draped her arm across her forehead and fell over to lie in his lap. Bulla laughed before she realized where her head was positioned. Goten was very well aware, and the look on his face appeared blank, not quite knowing how to react. Right then and there, Bulla thought she'd discombobulate from the embarrassment. However, combustion would not be on the agenda as Goten's mouth slowly turned upwards into a gentle smile. Soon, a small chuckle followed.

"Comfy?" he wondered. When Bulla realized he was at ease, she returned a grin of her own while resting her eyes.

"Yes, consider yourself my royal pillow for the evening, Son Ten."

Her cerulean orbs shot open when she felt his thumb brush against her forehead. Goten's ebony eyes analyzed the contours of her cheeks, the faint flush that accompanied them, the smoothness of her skin. As he stroked her brow with care, it reminded him of a time gone by.

"You always used to make me do this," Goten murmured, a fondness in his tone.

"Well, couldn't expect Trunks to," Bulla kidded, coaxing another chuckle out of Goten. She started to close her eyes as his caring touch put her at peace. Inhaling the fresh garden air, a contented wave of calm washed over the princess.

What more could she ask for?

---

"And then by Jove I told him–you don't eat the damn thing, you wash with it! His mouth smelt of soap the rest of the day!"

As members of the Souljin Council bursted into laughter at one of the king's many jokes that evening, Vegeta could not hide the boredom on his face. King Engei had trotted him over for more introductions and the Saiyan Prince was at his social limit. Clearing his throat, Vegeta spoke, "Excuse me."

He offered no further suggestions or explanations as he turned to head back to his seat. In the fading background, Vegeta heard King Engei complimenting him to the other councilmen even after his abrupt exit. Vegeta was naturally a suspicious person, but so far, the Souljin Monarch had been nothing but gracious to him and his family. The pureblood knew his own nature was brash and rough around the edges. Despite that, Engei exuded kindness beyond the likes of which he was used to. The Saiyan Prince would likely continue to keep his guard up, but in the deepest recesses of his gut, there was a small part of him that wondered if this is what it meant to be part of a family.

The majority of his youth had been spent in captivity, but the vague recollection from his time on Planet Vegeta had Vegeta curious about these Souljins. Now but a near-forgotten shadow, the Saiyan Queen passed when Vegeta was only a toddler. Though his memory of her was fuzzy, he seemed to recall that her personality was more like Engei's own. She had her fiery moments too of course, natural for any Saiyan woman, but even as a young child, Vegeta noted how different she seemed. Affectionate almost, kind even.

Everyone knew Saiyans were far from affectionate and kind. His own father taught him early on to command respect and if it wasn't given, to take it by force. Frieza only exacerbated this, making Vegeta the ruthless killer he was. The Saiyan Prince never had qualms about his past; what was done was done.

Even so, the beginning of this trip so far gave perspective into what could have been. Had his mother lived, would she have balanced out some of the darker parts of himself? If the Cold Force never partnered with the Saiyans, would this have been their demeanor instead? Or, was this simply the weak influence the Soulans had on them after years of mating? As he crossed the dance floor to return to the head table, Vegeta wondered if that had also happened to him, too.

Just as he approached his seat, he was intercepted by his wife, whose flushed face showed she had been enjoying her time at the ball.

"Vegeta," Bulma said as she snaked her arms around his, "dance with me!"

"Tch," the Saiyan Prince sneered. "No."

"Don't be such a sourpuss," his wife scolded. She elbowed him gently. "You can't sulk all evening and not have a bit of fun, Vegeta."

"Watch me."

"Vegeta," Bulma whistled through clenched teeth. "Consider I might want to have some fun. To perhaps, dance with my husband of all people."

"Go dance then, woman," Vegeta answered unenthused. "Just don't expect to do so with me."

Bulma's death glare intensified, specks of fire almost visible within her blue orbs. Instead of responding with her usual yelling, she simmered in place for a moment, calculating her next move. Her eyes lit up when she spotted Goku passing by, no doubt heading back up towards the buffet. She glowered at Vegeta once more before resuming a cheerful face, running over to the other pureblood Saiyan.

"Goku!" Bulma cooed affectionately, wrapping her arms around her old friend, much to Vegeta's annoyance.

Surprised by the sudden contact, Goku's shock became jovial when he realized who it was. "Oh hey, Bulma!" he greeted with his Son grin.

"I've hardly seen you all evening, how are you?"

"Uh good…was gonna get some more food here…"

"Before you do," Bulma retorted, "you wouldn't mind dancing with a dear friend, would you?"

"Who, me?" Goku blinked in disbelief, his eyes darting to Vegeta scowling nearby. He wondered why he was being asked instead of him.

"Of course you, silly!" the genius giggled in her best flirty tone. Nothing else grated Vegeta's nerves more than that. "Why wouldn't I want to dance with the strongest guy at the ball? Besides, I feel bad Chi-Chi isn't here to dance with you, so I figured we old buddies can dance together."

Goku still looked unsure, but Bulma's beaming smile was hard to refuse.

"Well, sure, I mean I'd be happy to if Vegeta doesn't mind–"

"Oh, he doesn't mind…" Bulma trailed off to stick her tongue out at her husband. "He said he wouldn't be caught dead dancing, so it's just you and me pal!"

"I never said–"

Vegeta didn't have a chance to finish. Bulma promptly escorted Goku towards the dance floor as Vegeta fumed where he stood. Placing her hands at the back of Goku's neck, she smiled as if there wasn't a care in the world. Happy to help, her friend returned the same grin. Goku placed his own hands around Bulma when they were starkly interrupted.

"Find your own wife to dance with, Kakarot!" Vegeta snapped.

Pushing him to the side, the Saiyan Prince whisked his mate away. Confused, but undeterred, Goku shrugged. He resumed his initial goal of partaking from the decadent buffet for what might have been the seventh time that evening.

Stunned at how quickly her plan seemed to work, Bulma knew some things never changed. She smirked in victory.

"Glad to know your little rivalry with Goku is still the best motivation to get you moving," Bulma teased as she swayed in her husband's arms. The wordless grunt he uttered only goaded her further. "Although," Bulma began again, "I bet Goku would've complimented my dress by now at least. Unlike some people."

Though she knew Vegeta would likely have a reaction to her comment, Bulma wasn't expecting the grip around her waist to get as firm as it did. His piercing ebony orbs seemed to stare straight into her soul.

"Bulma…"

Her husband's deep voice saying her name with such regard astonished the genius. She was far too used to him scoffing or calling her woman, despite their strong connection. Even after all these years, he could surprise her still.

"Vegeta?" Bulma answered, unsure.

The Saiyan Prince leaned into her ear, sending a shiver up Bulma's spine. "Why would I compliment that dress when the first thing I'm going to do after this is rip it off of you?" Vegeta murmured with confidence.

Matching her gown, Bulma's cheeks reddened furiously. "Vegeta…" she repeated his name, flustered at his forwardness. The brilliant scientist cleared her throat and tapped his shoulder. "You should still tell me I looked good in it," she chastised, her timbre returning to normal.

Vegeta unveiled his signature smirk, pulling Bulma to him in a tight embrace. "You look ravishing," he purred, warming her with his hot breath on her neck. His smirk grew more devious; reminiscent of the dangerous young prince she saw all those years ago on Namek. "You'll look even better, however, wearing nothing at all," Vegeta continued darkly.

The faint sigh of delight that passed Bulma's lips was enough to make the prince's pride swell. That sort of reaction was just for him.

Kakarot could never.

---

…

"More."

Trunks shook his empty glass at the server tending the bar. Though it took a lot to get a demi-Saiyan inebriated, the potent Souljin wine was certainly helping.

His gloved hand swiped down his face, feeling a throbbing in his head that seemed to only improve once he was drinking. Behind him, the reverberation of familiar laughter stung his ears. Marron's single dance with Prince Zasso transformed into multiple ones and by the sound of it, she was enjoying herself.

The minute the bartender refilled his chalice, Trunks drank it like a shot.

"Should I have the staff fetch more grapes from the vineyard, Prince Trunks?" a voice wondered from behind. "May take some time for the wine to ferment, but at the rate you're going, we might as well get a head start."

Trunks knew the tone and let out an annoyed scoff. "Quite the comedian, Prince Kusa," he said with absolute sarcasm. The Crown Prince appeared at his side, dressed ornately in green and blue regalia of his own, while eyeing the other prince up and down.

"Do you intend to imbibe yourself all evening?"

"The hell does that mean?"

Kusa looked pensive for a moment. "Oh, what's the vernacular, getting wasteful is it?"

Trunks kept his mouth shut but let out a solitary chuckle behind closed lips. "Wasted," he corrected.

"Whatever it is," the Crown Prince resumed, "seems to be a poor use of your time."

Taking another sip of his drink, Trunks turned to face the older Souljin. "Not sure what concern that is of yours, Your Highness," the demi-Saiyan said rather indignantly.

Kusa scoffed. "My concern is for the ground of the barracks during our training tomorrow; I would hate to see it littered with whatever liquid you consume tonight."

The lavender-haired man sneered. He took yet another sip, more forcefully this time. Letting out a satisfied noise upon completion, he gestured for the attendant to refill him once again. Trunks turned to Kusa, not even attempting to hide his annoyance. "Wouldn't want to defile the sacred Souljin landscape with my inferior stomach contents," he responded in a mocking tone. Trunks snorted. "Spare me, Prince Kusa."

Prince Kusa remained undaunted by Trunks' obvious attempt to aggravate him. "Why are you sequestered here by yourself, Prince Trunks? Really."

Trunks focused solely on the now empty glass in front of him. The last thing he wanted was to be vulnerable at that moment. His lack of response prompted Kusa to frown.

"Here I thought you and I had an understanding," the Souljin Heir said flatly. "Am I to assume you no longer wish to train?"

When his fresh drink came, Trunks chugged it and wiped his mouth. He stared at Kusa, his icy blue eyes piercing through the prince's emerald gaze.

"Won't do me any good," Trunks replied. A momentary glance towards the dance floor only seemed to upset him more. He turned back, but the Souljin Prince noted where his eyes had been. Prince Kusa watched his younger brother and the pretty blonde Earthling dancing, and out of the corner of his eye, saw the flash of pain on the half-Saiyan's face. He put two and two together.

"If I may be so bold, Prince Trunks…"

"May? You already fucking are. Just say it."

Not a fan of the coarser language, the prince twitched his nose, but ventured on. "If your intentions are to do this for anyone other than yourself," Kusa continued, "don't bother. You'll only be disappointed in the end."

"Whoop dee fucking do."

A long pause of silence went by. Trunks regretted taking out his frustration on the prince, but he refrained from admitting this to him. After a period of quiet, the Souljin man spoke.

"So be it," Prince Kusa said, turning to leave. There was a hint of disappointment in his voice that Trunks caught. Still, the younger Saiyan Prince remained focused on the glass in front of him. His ears perked up, however, when the Souljin Heir had one more thing to say. "Perhaps my initial impression of you was correct," Kusa continued, "and maybe the phrase wasted is quite apt."

Trunks swung around to respond, but the older royal was already walking away. Angrily, he finished the drink and was about to order another, but as he held the empty glass, he caught the reflection of Prince Kusa. The look on his face signified a rare break in protocol; the Souljin heir appeared disheartened. It was only for a millisecond, but enough to resonate with Trunks.

"Sir?"

His attention pivoted to the bartender, standing at the ready with a fresh carafe of wine. Trunks contemplated before he put his hand up.

"...water, for now."

---

Bulla's eyes opened as she heard the indistinct music get more lively across the way. She had only rested for a moment, but didn't want to waste her alone time with Goten sleeping of all things. Catching her attention was Goten's mesmerized focus on the sky. He was still stroking the crown of blue atop her head, but his concentration was on the lunar divinities above them.

"Wild to see two moons," Goten said, finally breaking the silence.

Bulla sat up to return her legs back over the bench, clinging to the seat's edge while gazing overhead. "Hinoki was telling me an interesting story about them," she said reflectively.

Goten perked up an eyebrow. "Oh, yeah?" he questioned.

"Yeah," Bulla returned as she smiled brightly. "She said the legend originated when this planet was still Soula. According to the Soulan people, the two moons represent two deities, Raimu and Runa. Apparently, they were lovers."

She emphasized the last word in a sultry tone for humor's sake, doing a little shimmy with her shoulders. Goten lightly chuckled at the heiress' efforts. "Lovers, huh?" he retorted back. There was a hint of mischief in his pitch.

"Yes," the bluette giggled, ceasing her movements. Once composed, Bulla cleared her throat to continue. "Evidently, the two were separated by fate, and forced to remain in the sky apart. Raimu's on the left and trails behind Runa. Though separated, they made a vow to each other to always find a way back to one another."

The elder halfling listened with rapt attention as Bulla explained further.

"Throughout the year, Raimu waits patiently for the chance to be reunited with his love," Bulla added, speaking as though she had known the story since childhood. "The window of opportunity only happens during a lunar eclipse, where the two moons come together to form a beautiful, singular super moon."

His expression flowered. "So the whole year they don't connect any other time?" Goten asked.

"No, that's the only time. Hinoki said it's a big festival apparently when that happens!"

Bulla sighed with breathless wonder. "I bet it is a beautiful sight to see," she whispered.

Still captivated by the moons, Bulla didn't realize the potency of Goten's stare, but his penetrative gaze veiled a maelstrom of emotion below the surface. When she turned, Goten broke his concentration and looked at the lunar figures with veneration.

"The story's bittersweet," he stated, a pang of remorse for the mythical deities in question.

"Maybe," Bulla conceded, "but I find it hopeful and romantic, too."

The quiet, tickled agreement in Goten's throat filtered through the night air. To be that youthful and optimistic, it was something to be envied. The Saiyan hybrid didn't consider himself a very jaded individual by any means, yet, he had enough minor heartbreak to know life wasn't always fair. Especially in matters of the heart. Here Bulla was though, bright-eyed and sanguine, her auspicious attitude putting the older halfling to shame.

How brave, how fearless.

As his focus was once more towards the two moons above, Goten's mind wandered to the night of Bulla's birthday, as it often had these last few months. The blue tint, the breathtaking size, the reflection of it in Bulla's eyes after he kissed her.

These were frequent thoughts he kept quiet in his head, and had done so for some time. And yet, Goten didn't want to stay quiet. Not anymore. Not tonight.

He wanted her to know.

"They remind me of that moon the night of your birthday," Goten vocalized softly.

After the words registered, the princess expressed a look of surprise at his candor. Quiet chirps of crickets permeated the air when there was no immediate response. Bulla stood up, her long, slender arms draping behind her as she walked over towards one of the marbled gazebos, admiring their arches. Goten slowly joined her, waiting with bated breath for her to say something.

"B-Chan?"

"We haven't talked about what happened on my birthday," Bulla said, shyly glancing at the ground for a moment. Her lapis eyes shimmered in the light of the full moons when she reunited their gazes. "I wasn't sure if we ever would," the heiress continued.

There, she thought, it was finally addressed.

Faint music from the ballroom echoed throughout the gardens, providing a heartwarming score as the backdrop for the conversation. With the latest swell from the strings, Goten used their heartfelt melody as a conduit.

"Truth is," Goten began again, "not a day goes by that I don't think about that night."

Her heart continued to pulsate in her chest with great intensity as Goten shared that revelation. "What do you think about?" Bulla questioned, choosing her words carefully.

Goten held a quiet chuckle within the confines of his throat, but its light reverberation set Bulla's insides aflutter.

"How you snuck up on me," he said softly, but this confused Bulla.

"I believe it was the other way around, bud—"

"Not like that."

The gentleness of his tone surprised the Saiyan Princess. How measured and controlled his timbre, how unrelenting his gaze. "There you were. Illuminated by the bluest moon I ever saw, no longer the little princess that used to follow Trunks and myself around like a shadow," the demi-Saiyan spoke.

Flecks of sincerity in eyes shone through. Bulla took a breath as she hung onto his every word.

"I saw you in a new light," Goten confessed, a composed but warm smile on face. "It hit me like a ton of bricks and honestly, I haven't been the same."

"Goten…"

"I've told you I see you, Bulla, but what I see more than anything is your spirit. Your light. It's blinding sometimes and I—"

I don't feel worthy of it, his thoughts screamed. He trailed off. Another confession for another time.

Bulla appeared stunned by his earnest comments. Her eyes glossed over with emotion while observing the handsome man next to her.

"Goten," she felt herself leaning in further. Emboldened by the two moons, as well as his outward affection that evening, Bulla refused to let another missed moment pass her by. "In this light," she spoke, "what do you see?"

Without realizing they were pressed up so closely, Goten fastened his arms around her sylphlike frame, dipping beneath the small of her back. He stared at her luminosity, aided by Raimu and Runa above, as the gorgeous surroundings before them faded to nothingness. Left in its wake, there was only one thing he noticed. One person.

How unrelentingly beautiful and special was she; and how undeserving but fortunate was he to be with her like this. Like he shouldn't be, but was by the grace of every Kai in the universe. The way Bulla looked at him, it set his gut ablaze with boldness. He had to tell her the truth.

There was nothing but her to him.

"In this light," he nearly whispered, "all I see is blue."

The slightest hint of confusion graced Bulla's face as Goten uttered that phrase from before, but she didn't have time to interpret the meaning.

In a flash, he pressed his mouth to hers, savoring once again the sweetest flavor ever to grace his lips; the elusive taste he had been craving for months. After denying himself the opportunity time and time again, there was no way Goten was leaving this to chance.

He needed her.

In rapid response, Bulla threw her arms around the neck of the man attached to her mouth. That feeling of elation bubbling inside like a ticking time bomb, threatening to boil over at any second. She secured herself to him with no intention of letting go. Goten's hands found their way around her waist and at the back of her head. There was a silent desperation they both understood, and both accepted without question.

Goten couldn't hold back from deepening the kiss as soon as he heard the faintest whimper on Bulla's end. Still mindful to not lose himself, he made sure to slow his roaming hands amidst their journey over her lithe form. Bulla sensed his tongue seeking hers, and though a bit newer of a sensation, she welcomed any chance to be closer to him.

Their breaths, hot and frantic, escalated during their ceaseless kissing. Bulla was convinced she was going to melt into Goten's sturdy frame and she longed for nothing more. She continued to lean into his experienced touch, trying to learn from him as best she could.

The older demi-Saiyan took pleasure in navigating the somewhat foreign territory of her mouth. Hints of recollection hit his mind, the sweet citrus he was convinced would only linger in memory. Desperate to memorize Bulla's signature flavor, Goten dove in deeper, every ounce of pent up desire burning through.

Suddenly, Bulla felt herself lifted from the ground with minimal effort. Her belly coiled at the gesture. The strong Saiyan grip she was encased in made her feel dainty and desired. Up against the garden wall, Bulla let out a quiet moan when Goten's gloved hand dipped beneath the slit of her dress. Her bare leg poking through revealed more of her creamy skin to him. Bulla clung tighter while their kisses intensified, relishing every touch and caress.

Returning a soft groan of his own into the heiress' mouth, Goten trailed his hand up further. Passing the underside of her thigh, he cupped her rear, and Bulla cooed at the intimate contact. It was so different from how Toge had grabbed her—whereas Toge had been forceful, there was still a tentativeness to Goten's touch. Bulla reached her left hand down to place on top of his own as encouragement. He pulled back to observe her for a moment, the heiress' eyes hypnotic with heavy desire.

Looking at him in that way was almost dangerous.

He moved his lips to the side of her neck, prompting more sounds of enjoyment from the princess. She pulled him in as close as she could, heat swirling about from her flushing cheeks to her core. Her body responded quicker than her mind could register, bucking against Goten, an aching urge for him to press further.

Goten suckled the patch of skin before him, trying his hardest to avoid biting and leaving evidence of where his mouth had been. He could hardly help himself though. She tasted so good. Every part of her satiated an innate craving he had. Her lips, her tongue, her skin…all of it was a maddening triage of delight.

Kissing his way upwards, Goten planted his lips to hers once more and reunited their tongues in a frenzied display. Bulla didn't have time to worry about whether she was returning the kiss properly or if she was using too little or too much tongue. The urgency in which Goten petitioned her overtook any doubts she may have had. She tangled her fingers at the back of his head, gripping his ebony locks as firmly as possible. Once again, her form undulated beneath the older man. Goten's hand ventured underneath the near non-existent fabric of her panties, the sole item preventing him from feeling the skin of her rear being his glove.

Yet another groan escaped Goten's throat, an unbearable tightness stirring within his groin. It was only made worse when his nostrils caught the faint scent of feminine want.

"Bulla," he croaked out hoarsely. So desperate and needy, it surprised even him.

The princess huffed breathy pants. "Goten," she crooned, cradling his cheeks in her hands. Their locked eyes conveyed every little shred of yearning. Needing to taste her again, Goten rejoined their mouths as Bulla gyrated further into his frame. Firmly squeezing her behind, Goten moaned against Bulla's soft lips, eliciting a mewl of her own.

"Oh!"

Bulla squealed when she felt the bottom half of his armor press up to her. The spandex did little to conceal his excitement and the feel of him only made Bulla want more. It was clear he felt the same.

The Son man enmeshed their bodies as close as he could. His head was spinning like a carousel at maximum speed. A long exhale vanished from his mouth, evaporating into the night.

It was blurring: the line between sweetness and sustenance. The truth he had been burying for so long…Goten craved more than just stolen kisses with Bulla.

He wanted to be on his knees in front of her, worshiping her with his tongue, fingers, and every other tool at his disposal. A princess like her deserved nothing less. To feel her quiver against his mouth and reward him with whatever intoxicating aroma wafted in the air. To taste the forbidden fruit, as it were, knowing how special she was. How untouched and ripe.

Goten grunted with frustration, throwing his head to the side. Untouched? Why was he thinking of her like that? She wasn't a piece of meat. He felt like Toge ogling her. Like all those lecherous men she dealt with over the years who saw Bulla and wanted one thing.

But he didn't want just one thing; he wanted everything. All of her. In every way.

The older man tried to shake the inappropriate thoughts from his head as best he could. Goten attempted to envision the purest visions possible. Her laugh, her jokes—anything to remind him of chaste moments.

Still, like a wolf bewitched by the moons above, he felt a stirring inside to feel her, taste her, enter her…

Stop!

It was of little use to try to reason with his licentious side. It was a losing battle.

Stop that!

Despite Goten's cerebral protests, the beast inside snarled. He would not be denied. He merely wanted what she offered so freely.

His fingers trailed from Bulla's rear back to her leg, dipping inwards. The warmth of her inner thigh heated more than just his hand. Pressing into her, a low growl emerged from his lips. The light blue eyes of the princess shot open to observe the animalistic demeanor of her companion. Her fair cheeks were already pink from their amorous contact, however, the realization of how close he was to her core only caused the shade to darken. There was a hesitation to his movements, and Bulla could feel herself only getting more turned on by the anticipation.

Droplets of sweat began to form on both their brows. Did he dare? Did he dare to touch the princess so intimately here in the exposed gardens?

For a second, Bulla was convinced he would and nodded quietly to indicate she was fine with it. All she saw in return was tempered obsidian burning a hole straight through her. His hand did not inch any further, remaining firmly planted on her inner thigh. She rolled herself in hopes it would inspire some additional contact, however, this was not to be. The hardness of his features began to soften, returning to his usual state. It hit Bulla then and there that the little voice of reason Goten struggled with was likely reasoning with him again.

And while logically she understood, her body could not.

"Goten?" Bulla questioned meekly. Her blue eyes were so full of concern and expectation. She stared Goten down as he huffed before her.

"We should…" Goten barely could speak, ragged breaths overtaking. "We should probably…head back."

The halfling lowered the heiress to her feet but kept her encased in firm grip as she regained feeling in her legs again. Bulla looked blankly at him, her own lack of breath apparent. Goten took the same hand that had been so close to exploring more of her and held her face in his hands. He couldn't help but watch every little detail, every little movement. For her sake, and for his, Goten tried his best to regain authority over himself.

"Should we?" Bulla managed to whisper.

Kami, she'd be the death of him.

Goten nodded quietly, his thumb grazing her cheek. "You're the type of woman they'd notice missing for too long," he said, a self-deprecating smile starting to form. "Can't keep you all to myself," the older man teased. He tried to make his tone nonchalant, but there was a bitter acceptance to his words.

Bulla touched his lower lip, a woman transfixed. "You could," she murmured.

Charcoal eyes followed her movements. "B-Chan," he uttered. "I—"

The rustling of bushes nearby broke their concentration. In the not so far off distance, a mixture of footsteps and voices indicated more people were exploring the water gardens. Bulla sighed; so much for that. The moment was gone.

"Here," Goten extended his arm to her again. He nudged it in hopes she'd take it sans protest.

Without much to back her up, Bulla resigned to the end of her revelry with the handsome Son Goten in the gardens. She looped her hands around his arm once more; appreciating every taut muscle and remembering his heady scent. Even Cinderella had to be back before midnight, she relented. Though, as they began their trek back to the palace, Bulla found herself wishing she could extend her lived-in fairytale; if only for just a few moments more.

---

"It was an honor to dance with you, Lady Marron," Prince Zasso said as he escorted her to the dance floor's edge. He bent over, kissing her hand in appreciation. "Thank you for indulging my request for several more after the fact."

Marron blushed as the handsome prince's lips made contact with her. "You're a wonderful dance partner," she praised, her face inflaming further at the rakish smirk Zasso shared.

As he rose to his feet, he kept his hand in hers and gave a gentle squeeze. "I don't want to leave your side so soon," the youngest Souljin Prince continued, "but alas, duty calls."

The blonde was taken by his charm, but knew to claim any more of the ambassador's time would have been selfish.

"I understand," Marron nodded.

Zasso leaned into her ear to whisper, "I…forgive me for being so brazen, but I want to see you again, Marron. As soon as possible."

A small gasp left her lips. He was certainly being more flirtatious than anticipated. She didn't mind the forwardness, however. "Tomorrow, I'll be shopping in the bazaar with Bulla and Pan," Marron began, "perhaps afterwards?"

The Souljin Prince stared into her eyes, his golden hues sharpened. "I should like that very much," he confessed.

Marron's countenance only beamed brighter. "Me too," she murmured.

With one last squeeze, Prince Zasso tipped his head goodbye and went towards his father and other council members. His dance partner couldn't help but watch him from afar; he was social, handsome, intelligent. All things she admired. It had been a while since she had a genuine liking towards someone in this way. Or at least, she thought, someone who wasn't him.

Marron's confliction knotted her stomach. Prince Zasso was so good about making his intentions known, whereas Trunks and her kept playing this back and forth. While she was more than taken with the lovely foreign dignitary, Marron couldn't explain why her thoughts kept darting to her lavender-haired friend. Her eyes began to scan the crowd to see if she could locate him, ultimately spotting him still at the bar.

Has he been there this whole time? Alone?

When Marron couldn't find Goten, she became worried that Trunks had been left to his own devices. Everyone else seemed occupied in different conversations throughout the ballroom. Marron's heartstrings tugged at how lonely Trunks appeared across the way. Before she knew it, her feet started to guide her in that direction.

Though Trunks had paused for a water break earlier after his encounter with Kusa, another glance at the man's younger brother and Marron prompted him to resume his drinking. Saiyans were lucky to have a better tolerance than most, especially given Trunks' history, but even he was starting to feel a slight buzz. At least, that's what he told himself when the noise of the crowd seemed to blend into one singular sound.

"Are you okay?"

Trunks stopped mid-drink at the sweet voice addressing him from behind. He tightened his eyes shut before opening them and turning to face a concerned-looking Marron. Even after a full night of dancing, her hair was still perfectly in place. How could she look so effortlessly beautiful?

"Peachy," he said in a sterner tone than intended. The timbre was not unnoticed by Marron, but she attempted to move past it.

"It's just…you've been over here a while…" the blonde trailed off, nervously twisting her hair per her habit.

She heard a quiet, albeit slightly bitter, scoff emanate from inside his throat. "Would've thought you'd be too distracted to pay attention to little old me," Trunks replied, taking another swig of his spirits. The comment pained Marron; she thought they were past this.

"Trunks," she began, "come on."

"What? Don't you have a prince to dance with?"

The human balked at his snide remark. "What's your problem?" she countered, her face reddening ever so slightly.

Trunks shifted to look away. "No problems here, Lady Marron," he retorted bitterly, using Zasso's honorific for her. The comment made her brows furrow.

"Are you done?"

"What? You seem to like it when Zasso calls you that."

Marron winced in simultaneous frustration and anger. He had so many chances this evening and he blew all of them. "Unbelievable," she scoffed. The heat rose to her face. "You have the maturity of a toddler, Trunks," the blonde seethed.

"Didn't deter you before," Trunks replied, with another sip.

"Before?" Marron glared. She was getting more irate, but if she was going to let her anger reach a boiling point, Marron wanted Trunks to be the one to burn his hand on the stove.

He swirled his glass around, knowing that he was on thin ice. Maybe it was the alcohol that emboldened him, or maybe it was an aching heart, but either way, Trunks decided to be frank with his words.

"Things change, I guess," he said caustically.

"No."

The venom in her tone prompted Trunks to shift towards her, a piece of him sobering up just by studying her face.

"Things don't change," she spat out. If there were ever a time she looked and sounded like her mother, it was then and there. "You don't change either, Trunks. You're incapable of it, clearly. Always that spoiled kid from childhood. I don't know why I ever expected anything different."

His breath hitched, mute to her ire.

Marron continued to grieve the situation. "It's the same old story," she added, "and if you won't act differently, then I will."

"Marron."

She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of her tears, but it took more strength than she possessed to prevent them from falling. "Enjoy yourself, Trunks…although if you ask me, you make for piss poor company; even if you are your only companion."

The blonde ran off towards the grand staircase, gripping the sides of her dress. Marron tried her darndest to avoid making a scene, but her quick exit was not unnoticed. She breezed past Prince Kusa of all people, nearly running into him. Mumbling a haphazard apology, she swayed to avoid the Souljin Heir and bolted up the stairs. From afar, Trunks could see Kusa blink in confusion. After the Crown Prince had a chance to register who it was, his green eyes honed in on Trunks, prompting the other prince to turn his head in shame.

It took Trunks a few moments to process the enormity of his missteps. The demi-Saiyan cursed under his breath. He steadied himself to his feet, knocking over his empty glass as he immediately went to chase after his childhood friend. Heading to the grand staircase, his one solitary focus was on reaching his destination, but he too was stopped.

"Is that wise?"

Trunks had made it up a couple stairs before Kusa's question prompted him to turn around. Bloodshot eyes glanced at the floor. "Maybe not," he conceded, no longer looking to argue with the Souljin Heir. The admission surprised even Prince Kusa. Raising his head again, Trunks' face looked more determined. "But I'll regret it if I don't," he acknowledged.

Kusa was about to say something in response, but his lovely wife laced her arm with his. "Husband," Hinoki said affectionately, "I'm here to collect on the one dance you promised me. Do not think I forgot!"

The notably shy prince blushed at the outward affection. "You know I've two left feet, Hinoki," he murmured, embarrassed. Her gorgeous green eyes fluttered, only furthering her cause.

"And my left foot makes three," she said, unbothered. Hinoki tugged on his arm once more until she realized that Trunks and Kusa had been engaged in conversation. "Oh forgive me, Prince Trunks," Hinoki apologized, "I hadn't realized you and Kusa were conversing."

Trunks smiled politely. "You're fine, Princess Hinoki. We were just finishing up," the half-Saiyan assured, looking at the Crown Prince a final time. "Besides," he said, turning around, "I'll have plenty of time to chat with the prince tomorrow during my sword training."

The comment both surprised Kusa and delighted Hinoki.

"Oh how lovely," the princess beamed, squeezing her husband's arm even tighter. "Look at you being social, my love," she teased, giving Kusa a quick kiss.

Prince Kusa was still at a loss for words, recalling his earlier interaction with Trunks indicating otherwise. The determined look in the other man's eyes however, convinced him that perhaps his earlier advice was being heeded. He nodded at Trunks. "Suppose I'll see you then, Prince Trunks," Kusa accepted.

With his back turned, Trunks waved in response, resuming his trek up the staircase.

An amused smirk crossed the Souljin Heir's face. "Maybe not so wasted after all," he admitted quietly to himself. Kusa observed the man with interest before his wife finally managed to drag his body towards the dance floor, his protests notwithstanding.

---

Their return walk was far quieter than before.

Goten escorted Bulla, though both had trouble looking at the other. Remnants of flushed cheeks remained on their visages, failing to fade from view. Bulla especially kept her head low, not wanting the older man to pick up on the fact that she was still attempting to calm herself down from their vigorous tryst in the gardens. The bluette prayed he couldn't tell how worked up their encounter left her.

They began to make their way up the stairs leading to the terrace, although Goten took note of Bulla's heels once more and levitated the two for the rest of the way. Bulla was not expecting to take flight, but her feet thanked Goten for sparing them the additional steps. Her grip around him only tightened, eliciting a small smile on Goten's part. Once their feet touched the ground, Goten noticed Bulla had not slackened her hold on him.

"Here," Goten gestured as he loosened his arm. "Probably should walk in separately," he acknowledged, the image of Vegeta's earlier glare burned in his brain.

The comment finally brought the princess out of her head. "Good idea," Bulla replied.

Goten nodded, about to turn to head back in when he heard her sweet timbre again.

"Thank you," Bulla murmured, still a little shell shocked from before. When Goten's expression revealed confusion, the heiress cleared her throat. "For the dance, I mean," she elaborated. A haphazard curtsy followed, nerves getting the best of her.

Before Bulla could tip her head back up, Goten bowed to present a chaste kiss on her hand. He remained there as he replied, "I should be thanking you, Princess."

"Oh?" Bulla uttered more anxiously than intended.

Resuming his tall stature once more, but still keeping his hand on hers, Goten silently watched the younger demi-Saiyan with all the fierceness he could muster. "Sure," he added, his voice lowered a bit. "Not every day a low-class warrior gets to dance with the princess he serves," Goten's tone was still intense, but there was a playfulness to his words; as if the two of them were speaking in code.

The comment endeared her to him. "Not every day," Bulla played along with a squeeze of his hand. Her lashes fluttered as her cheeks reddened. "Although," she resumed, "I hope you'll dance with me again sometime. Ball or no ball."

Her heartbeat pulsated with the veracity of a rocket launched into space. Goten's towering frame loomed over the princess, but she was far from fearful. Bulla saw the slightest upturn of his mouth as he glanced downward.

"To be so lucky," Goten whispered in her ear.

Lingering for a few moments before pulling back and releasing her hand, Goten tipped his head before walking to the ballroom. Bulla was wise enough to remain a few steps back to not rouse suspicions, but truthfully, she needed some time to catch her breath.

How am I not dreaming?

Once the coast was clear, Bulla returned inside, the music and dance floor still lively, but the crowd had thinned a bit from earlier in the evening. Thankfully, most of her suitors from earlier were spread out and entertaining themselves through other means, giving Bulla a chance to breathe. Goku somehow had convinced Piccolo to engage in some friendly arm-wrestling in front of the Souljin Council and King Engei, both parties completely enraptured by the display. Even Prince Zasso was cheering with delight. Across the way, she observed Goten and Uub sharing a drink at the bar, where her brother was notably no longer at. She wondered where he could have darted off to.

Goten shared the briefest of glances with her before returning his attention back to their other friend. Bulla felt her heart skip a beat, but knew better than to try and force additional contact.

Her eyes found Pan sharing a sweet dance with her father, who seemed thrilled that his daughter wasn't too old to indulge him. Bulla was touched. Pan was notoriously rough around the edges with most people, but she would always have a soft spot for Gohan.

It made Bulla think of her own father in that moment, scanning the room to see what he was up to.

Bulla looked upon the other half of the dance floor, surprised to see her parents in lock step with one another. Her father rarely indulged her mother in requests like this. As the two were rocking back and forth, Bulla found the spectacle unusual, but made her smile nonetheless. Although, when she realized both of her parents had that look on their faces, Bulla grimaced and immediately averted her gaze.

Also grabbing her attention was the intimate slow dance Princess Hinoki was sharing with her husband. While she did not see Prince Kusa's expression, the look of love on Hinoki's visage said it all. Bulla couldn't help but beam at the Souljin woman's happiness. Her cerulean eyes widened when Hinoki's line of sight found her. Mouthing her thanks to the older woman for her earlier help, Bulla waved a small goodbye. Hinoki casted a playful wink at the other princess before returning her focus to Kusa.

The sweet moment did not last long, though. There was a chill down her spine when Bulla heard the same derisive laughter in the air from before. Her breath caught in her throat when she searched for Toge, worried he was nearby. Thankfully, he was tucked in the corner, surrounded by a band of beautiful Souljin women, distracted by their company. Bulla sighed in relief. One less thing to worry about.

When Bulla didn't spy Marron in the crowd, she assumed the notorious early bird may have departed the ball early. The princess was eager to pick her friend's brain about the dance with Prince Zasso.

In truth, without any further dances to share with Goten, there was little more Bulla wanted to do at the ball. She preferred to avoid having to half-heartedly dance or schmooze with any Souljin dignitaries, and quite honestly, she was still a bit shaken up from what occurred in the water gardens. The princess made her obligatory appearance, and now that there was no reason for any more suspicions upon her return, Bulla seized the moment to glide up the grand staircase.

Something probed her to glance back momentarily, and without fail, those ebony eyes she loved so much were glued to her every step. Flashing a tiny grin before resuming her trek, Bulla sighed. If her thirteen-year-old self could see her now, she dared to think she wouldn't have believed it.

---

Finally letting her quiet tears fall once she was behind her door, Marron's lip quivered with frustration before a sob unleashed. What had started out as a lovely evening full of promise felt spoiled. For all the progress she thought she made with Trunks, it was evident there was no going back to how things were no matter how hard either of them tried. It broke her heart into a thousand little pieces.

And, just as upsetting, was the fact she had the attention of a gorgeous specimen in the form of the Souljin Prince, and here she was: crying over a stupid boy of all things.

She never wanted this. She never wanted to feel so deeply for her best friend. She never wanted to ruin what they had. All she ever wanted was to feel at ease with someone she cared about. Marron could not deny how much she cared about him, but part of her was realizing the collateral damage of desiring such a man.

Desiring a Saiyan man.

Perhaps whatever genes ran through Vegeta and Trunks were not shared with their distant cousins. Marron could only hope.

Kliiick!

The loud jiggling of the doorknob startled the human, who was reminded in that moment she failed to lock the door. She jumped away as she felt it open behind her.

Since the person didn't attempt to knock, she should have known immediately who it was entering the room. Marron hadn't bothered to turn on the lights in her misery, but she could make that outline out anywhere. Trunks closed the door behind him, twisting the lock without even looking back. Even in the darkness, those glacial eyes glowed. His discerning stare bore into her and Marron fumed, the bottom of her jaw clenching.

The nerve!

His presence incensed her. The heat of her face was no longer because of tears, but fury. How dare he. After the stunt he pulled, how dare he show up here. Marron, amid her anger, found her voice.

"You stubborn, wretched, egotistical child, I swear Trunks—"

He didn't let her finish; his mouth was to hers in a second, propelling the two of them backwards towards the bed in the middle of her room. Marron whimpered against him as their lips melded together. She felt the familiar fever roar inside, and part of her couldn't tell if it was due to anger or passion. Perhaps, she thought, they were one in the same.

Still, as her back met the flat surface of the mattress, Marron pulled him towards her hoping she'd figure it out.

Her puffy dress didn't deter Trunks, neither did his annoying armor. Once he worked his way under layers of tulle, the prince found what he was looking for. In one fell swoop, he yanked down her panties and tossed them to the side. Marron studied his face; less reddened than before, the alcohol's effects waned from earlier. The hardness to his demeanor was still there and yet, his icy eyes seemed to warm as they observed her too. She flushed while they maintained eye contact; the intensity increasing by the second.

Then, Marron gasped as the coolness of his gloved hand trailed up her thigh. The noise paused his movements for a moment as he searched her face for permission. There was the faintest confliction in her chest, not because of who he was or what they were doing, but for the sake of the sweet Souljin man trying to court her. Was this fair to him?

Trunks leaned in closer, bending over her so that their faces were inches apart, his hand still near her center. As his bangs gravitated towards her, Marron saw the desire that she so badly craved from him before. Maybe it wasn't fair, she lamented, but it was what she wanted. At least for now.

With a simple nod, the blonde gave her blessing.

There was a shockwave as she felt his gloved finger dip inside her, eliciting a high-pitch mewl. His lips moved to her neck, sliding the digit in and out at a tortuous pace. Marron arched her back, laborious breaths filling the air along with the sound of her wetness.

Trunks kissed up her jawline to reunite their mouths as another finger inserted itself. The sensation of his tongue on hers, as well as his fingers pumping in tandem drove Marron insane. When he curled his digits into a come hither motion, Marron threw her head back to moan. Her body only lubricated him further, his pace increasing. Trunks' heavy breathing echoed in Marron's ear.

"Let go baby," he whispered with a foreign pet name. Marron whined when she felt his thumb circling her clit. The mix of his raspy demand and powerful hand movements ignited something she hadn't experienced since their last time together.

"Trunnnnn," Marron's breathy whisper couldn't even get his name out. She could feel her desire trickle down her legs. His gaze darkened when her face flushed with want. He fingered her more forcefully, the smacking noise resonant alongside her mewling.

"Atta girl," he praised with his nose against her cheek. "Like last time," Trunks continued, capturing her lips before hovering over her face. Beads of sweat formed on both of their brows as Marron was close.

The blonde crooned his name once more before unleashing a loud cry as she came. Even while Marron orgasmed, Trunks' fingers still worked in and out of her, ensuring she did not miss out on any ounce of pleasure. Her body shivered with aftershocks, leaving an overstimulated sensation reverberating throughout.

Slowing his finger movements, Trunks placed another kiss to Marron's cheek, heaving just as heavily as she was. Strands of his disheveled pastel locks stuck to his perspiring forehead.

"Good girl," he commended.

Amidst her labored breaths, Marron nudged Trunks with her nose, searching for his lips as she regained feeling. She sluggishly bucked against his fingers still inside her. He appeased her with a swift and deep kiss, with Marron clawing at the back of his armor for added support. A guttural moan left her mouth.

"Please," she begged.

The entire ocean didn't have the depths that Marron possessed in her azure eyes. Trunks would sink to the bottom and stay there with an anchor tied to his waist if it meant he could gaze upon her forever. "Please…?" he needed to hear from the blonde exactly what she wanted.

"Please," she repeated. Marron's potent stare was glassy and lustful. Her legs wrapped around Trunks, inching up and down. No clearer intent than that.

She grieved the loss of his fingers from her dwelling, but Trunks never broke his gaze. After lifting the dripping hand to his lips, the prince inserted those same fingers in his mouth to sample the pleasure she bestowed upon him. A heady groan escaped Marron's mouth at the erotic sight, her body growing more and more impatient. Trunks, once finished relishing the taste, pulled off the glove with his teeth and chucked it aside. He did the same with his other glove before he unzipped his bottoms with his newly freed hands.

Trunks raised the layers of tulle as he guided his weeping cock towards her entrance. Marron wheedled as the heat emanating from his member pressed against the volcano of desire close to erupting. She was burning up. If he didn't enter her immediately, she'd combust.

Luckily for them both, Marron didn't have to wait long.

"Shit," Trunks agonized as her womanhood engulfed him whole. She was even tighter than he remembered.

"Kami," Marron wept in reply.

The two rocked and writhed together, every thrust met with only more groans. Marron fisted the fabric of Trunks' cape, hanging on for dear life as he entered her over and over again. His grunts into her neck vibrated throughout her body. The primal nature of their lovemaking had both Trunks and Marron rolling against each other as if they were in heat.

There wasn't time for the playful banter they had their first go-round, or the sweet profession of feelings both stored up inside. No, their connection was far too carnal this time.

Her hot breaths near Trunks' ear somehow said enough. He picked up their pace, giving her everything he had. His thrusts were long and powerful; Marron basked in the sensation as she knew this would be a shorter joining than their first connection. Between her last climax just minutes before and the vehemence of their current romp, there was no way she'd last much longer.

Trunks, too, was struggling to keep it together. He could smell the sweat and musk between them, an aphrodisiac all its own. It only made him press harder into her. Trunks had bent his entire body over Marron, barely giving himself the strength to stand. He gasped for breath as he felt the familiar tickle building up.

Marron joined his heaving as they panted in unison. One singular body at that moment. Her womanhood throbbed around him, begging for release. The tightness was unbearable.

Desperate to reach that end point, Trunks dipped his fingers to strum Marron's clit. When she went to open her mouth to moan, he secured himself to her lips. Their tongues intertwined and Trunks could not hold it in any longer.

"Fuck!"

He emptied himself into her, similar to their first time, collapsing his entire body weight on top of the petite human as she followed with her own apex reached.

They rode the wave of their climax, momentarily numb and immobile. After a few seconds, Trunks used whatever little strength he had left to roll off of Marron and give them both a chance to breathe.

Both of them gasped for air, staring upwards at the ceiling as they each tried to make sense of what just happened. Trunks had fully intended on coming to Marron's room to apologize, with little else on his mind, but the second he saw her that plan went out the window. All he could focus on was having her again. That didn't diminish his regret for his earlier actions, though he certainly put them to the side for the sake of becoming one with Marron once more.

The pretty blonde's skin started to change back to its porcelain hue. Trunks admired how even after all the vigorous exertion, she still managed to put the stars to shame. That's what he really wanted to tell her. How lovely she was and how he wanted to be the center of her galaxy, like she was to him. His own damn pride ruined that chance earlier, but Trunks did not want to go another minute without saying his piece.

"Marron, what I said before, I'm sor—"

"Get out," Marron ordered quietly, keeping her eyes on the ceiling.

Trunks' demeanor softened. His heavy breathing paused as he absorbed what she had said. "Out?" he repeated, the contrast between this joining and their last quite stark. His tone reflected the shock and sadness the request brought.

"I don't want you here, Trunks," Marron replied. "And this…tonight doesn't change anything. In fact, it makes things perfectly clear."

"Marron, I'm sorry," he said genuinely, but even he knew the words came much too late.

"Doesn't matter."

"Doesn't it?"

"No, Trunks."

Marron's bottom lip trembled, but her frustration kept her tears at bay. "I told you earlier," she continued sadly, "if you won't change, I'll have to."

"Mare…"

She turned her head to the side. Determined to stay resolute, the blonde refused to look his way. "Look, you got yours," she said with uncharacteristic bitterness. A few tears finally slipped out while her head was turned. "Hopefully, now you can leave Zasso and me alone without feeling the need to mark your territory."

"C'mon, Marron, you can't be serious," he started to chuckle nervously. Almost trying to convince himself she didn't mean what she said but he knew. "You think this is about me getting one over on that asshole?" Trunks wondered.

"He's not the asshole here, Trunks. It's you for putting me in this position, and it's me for getting caught up in it. He didn't deserve that."

"Marron, that's not at all what I wanted…I just wanted…"

"Like I said, it doesn't matter what you wanted."

More tears fell down Marron's face onto the bed sheet. She held back a loud sob as she tried to stay strong. "You made your bed," Marron added in barely a whisper. "You'll have to lie in it. Without me."

"Marron…"

He went to lean over her body only to be met with the angriest expression he had ever seen Marron make. The once pristine makeup now was smudge on her face, and those cobalt eyes, normally so gentle and sweet, only glowed with contempt. She conveyed her message in a thousand unspoken words. This was worse than when he avoided her after their first time together. This was pure wrath.

"Get out!" Marron said slowly and deliberately. Her voice dripped with disdain.

Trunks held back a gasp, instead biting his bottom lip to stay silent. Just a few moments of looking upon Marron's hurt was more than enough to hit home that there wasn't any coming back from this.

He fucked up.

Slowly, the half-Saiyan crawled off the bed and Marron returned to lie her head back down on the bed. She heard him gathering his things and making his way towards the door. When the Earthling didn't hear him close the door, she was about to shoo him away again, but he beat her to the punch.

"I know I've fucked up, Mare," Trunks confessed in the doorway. She still refused to look at him. "I know, and that's all on me. I never wanted you to feel like shit. You don't deserve it," he said softly.

"I told you back at Capsule Corp. I would be more honest," Trunks continued. "Here's the truth: I don't know how to just be your friend anymore; and that terrifies me."

Marron stubbornly kept her head down, but her heart pounded so fervently she swore all of Souljin could hear it. She remained quiet as he finished.

"I regret hurting you," Trunks added, "but I don't regret being with you. This time or last time."

He gripped the doorway so hard he almost left an imprint. "And Marron," he whispered, "I don't think you regret it either."

The blonde finally shot her head up to counter his last point, but Trunks was already out the door, shutting it behind him. Marron didn't take her eyes off the spot where he stood, until the overwhelming rush of emotion flooded her senses. She hated that he complicated things worse than what they had been. She hated that he had been too proud to tell her all of this earlier.

But, what she hated more than anything, was that he was actually right.

---

The Saiyan Princess sat at her vanity, brushing through her long strands of hair as she hummed in contentment. Not too long ago, the festivities had died down and with it, Bulla retreated to her room, still chasing that high.

What a night.

While she still had some lingering questions about where she stood with Goten after their near intimate encounter, Bulla knew the floodgates had opened. The roaring waters of tension built up for months between them had come to a forceful burst. Just the recent memory of it all left Bulla feeling warm.

Had they not stopped when they did, Bulla was certain the kiss would have evolved to something else entirely. There was a tremble that echoed throughout her core, recalling the powerful grip Goten had around her. Few men could ever make her feel as delicate as she felt in his arms. She had never experienced desire to that degree. Not only on her part, but his as well.

Even so, the princess ceased her brushing and frowned. Goten had succumbed to his feelings for a moment, yes, but she knew it wouldn't be that easy. He just as soon recomposed himself before things got too out of hand. In her heart, Bulla could sense that Goten felt the same as she did and were their circumstances a little less complicated, perhaps he would embrace them more openly. She placed her brush down on the vanity and sighed.

Maybe this was just one of those magical nights where it was a one time thing. Something special she'd always remember years later when old and gray. There was no need to ruin such a lovely evening with speculation about the future. Goten likely wouldn't pursue things and she was just going to accept it and move on, like any other adult would.

Or so Bulla thought.

A knock rang out which, given the time of night, puzzled the heiress. Bulla tightened her white robe around her matching satin nightie. Initially thinking it was the entryway, she headed in that direction. When she heard the knock again, Bulla realized it was coming from her balcony.

Meandering over to the glass door, the bluette could make out the familiar slanted hairstyle of Goten shadowed before her. The illumination of the two moons behind him provided a stark outline. When she approached, Bulla only saw the whites of his eyes; everything else was shrouded in black. As she undid the latch on the door, Bulla noticed his formal armor had been removed, all that remained was the spandex that had been underneath.

Finally unlocked, the princess opened the glass to reveal more of the man. She quaked when she observed just how intense his charcoal eyes appeared. Their gaze fixated on her and only her. Earlier in the evening, his look had been more besotted but now…

It was almost as if he was another animal entirely.

"Goten…?" Bulla wavered, unsure of what his presence meant.

Without warning, Goten crashed his mouth to hers as Bulla gasped at the sudden action. A tortured mewl escaped as she let Goten take control of their movements. Lifting her in his arms, the elder halfling carried Bulla to her canopy bed, not breaking their kiss for a moment.

Lowering her to the edge, Goten dipped at the ribbon of her robe with one hand before Bulla felt his attempt. Impatient, she used her own hands to unfasten the bow. Still attached at the lips, Bulla shrugged the robe off, baring her shoulders and revealing her nightie underneath. Goten momentarily ceased their make out as he scaled back to view Bulla. He inhaled sharply, with wordless approval, before lowering them both to the bed to kiss her once more.

Bulla clung to him as they pushed further up the bed, his muscular form towering over her smaller frame. Her lips puffed with irritation as Goten's actions grew more ardent with every peck.

"Goten! What—"

"I had to see you," he said decisively. Goten returned their lips together, probing deeper. Bulla lightly moaned against him. She loved how he tasted; hints of wine from earlier in the evening accompanied his normal scent. It was addicting. The bluette scratched at his hair, gripping what she could. As they continued, Bulla realized she hadn't actually been able to ask the question that made her the most curious. It was one that was on her mind for days now, and she needed to know.

"What did you mean," she panted out in between kisses, "when you said…"

A longer kiss caught her off guard. Desperately trying to catch her breath, Bulla continued to huff. "When you said," she whispered breathlessly, "all you see is blue?"

Goten swooped in for another deep taste before inching his lips downwards. He moved to her jaw, her neck, remaining there while Bulla arched her back, enraptured.

The dark-haired halfling reluctantly pulled away to observe her sprawled out beneath him. Her tresses fanned out over the pillows, her flushed chest contrasted with the pure white nightie she wore. How ironic she lay before him in such a virginal color when the thoughts on his mind were anything but.

Stop…

Shaking his head, Goten tried to fixate on the question instead. His hand cupped her face, thumbing over her cheekbone with reverence. The older hybrid took a breath.

"Every time I close my eyes," he murmured, kissing the other side of her face, "you're all I see, Bulla."

Her blue eyes widened in response, as Goten continued to plant his lips on various sections of her jawline.

"Your hair, your eyes, your gown tonight…" he trailed off, "even when I try to ignore it, you never leave my mind."

Bulla leaned back to take in Goten's enchanted expression. There was no hiding it. She knew with just a glance he meant every word he said. Her palms traced up his neck, and she held his face with a steeled gaze.

"Goten," she breathed, "I'm glad I'm on your mind."

He gently placed his hand over one of hers as she looked upon him adoringly. Bulla felt her heart jump out of her throat. "I want to be there, always," the heiress confessed.

Goten's visage bloomed with a tenderness that couldn't be faked. Clutching her hand tighter, he leaned back down to savor her. Bulla hummed with pleasure as their tongues reunited. Her body squirmed against his, feeling an absolute fire between her legs. The recent memory of his hand nearly touching her there was enough kerosine to kindle an inferno.

An excited gasp of air left Bulla's lips when she felt Goten's hand dip beneath the hem of her nighty. He briefly hesitated to observe the look on her face. Ebony eyes elicited a shiver from the heiress with their potency. When Goten saw that Bulla's lashes were batting with expectation, he gripped her hip and lowered his mouth to her chin. Kissing down her neck, his hand roamed the opposite direction. He landed at the tip of her collarbone while his fingers pressed against Bulla's ribcage. Goten suckled her snowy skin, the pressure of his tongue and gentle nips reddening her normal color.

At the same time, Bulla lifted her head back to expose more of her neck to him. As she moved against Goten, the princess sensed his fingers just below her chest. Instinct took over, her body rolling in anticipation of where his fingers would venture next. When Bulla did not feel him exploring any further, she decided to be the adventurer.

While she held him firm with one hand at the back of his head, Bulla's other palm descended. The spandex only enhanced the outline of his brawny build, every muscle and appendage. Feeling rather bold, Bulla allowed her palm to slip past his abdomen, hovering just beneath his pelvis.

Trepidation paused her movements but only for a moment. A quick inhale for courage and Bulla's hesitant fingers wrapped around their destination.

Bulla could hear Goten hiss through clenched teeth into her neck. The action surprised him just as much as it did her. She did not expect to feel so…big. Her breaths increased dramatically, slowly working her hand up and down through the fabric. His hissing turned into a full on moan. The Saiyan Princess' pride went up a couple notches when she realized how her movements were affecting him.

"I'm guessing you like that?" she teased in her best attempt at sultriness.

"Bulla—"

Goten threw his head back. Of course he liked it. That wasn't the issue. It was the fact that here was the beautiful, innocent Bulla Briefs, caressing his raging hard-on for her. Bulla Briefs, who had barely had time to perfect the art of kissing, in spite of her natural affinity for it. Not to mention, Bulla Briefs: the daughter of the man down the hall who would oh so assuredly rip off said dick if he were to catch them at that very moment.

Since this rationalization was only occurring in Goten's head, this did not stop Bulla's hand movements.

She giggled softly as she ushered another groan out of the older man. "Guessing you do," the half-Saiyan female whispered, pleased with her work. Leaning to kiss him, Bulla tightened her grip, and any protests he had were lost on her tongue.

Goten continued to moan into her mouth, his fingers beneath Bulla's nightie slowly inching up towards her breast. Bulla mewled against him when Goten's hand nearly reached their destination. It only tightened her hold on his member. The other hybrid could not believe the strength she possessed in that tiny hand of hers. He was worked up before she even touched his skin. Just the thought of her hand stroking him without the barrier of fabric, almost made him finish. But his heart sank as that thought dove into other thoughts, each more erotic than before.

Stop…he pleaded with his inner dialogue.

How cool her fingers would feel around his heat. First, her hand…then her mouth…

Stop!

"Stop," he finally verbalized aloud to himself.

"Huh?" Bulla absentmindedly murmured, not sure if she was hearing things.

Goten vacated the crook of her neck, his dark eyes penetrating her gaze with a much different intensity than before. Where desire and longing had been, now only shone shame. It was such a stark shift that Bulla blinked in confusion.

"Goten?"

He retreated to the edge of the bed, his side profile discernable with the pale moonlight peeking in. She saw him breathe deeply through his nostrils, his mouth still closed in a hard flat line. Goten's sunken expression nearly broke her heart.

"Goten?" she repeated. His gaze remained fixed on the floor.

"I'm sorry," Goten finally spoke.

The heiress raised an eyebrow. "What are you sorry for?" she asked kindly. Her bottom lip folded under her teeth. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable, Goten."

"It's not you, Bulla," he said adamantly, "I'm the problem."

"How are you th—?"

"I'm no better than Toge," he professed, palms pressed on top of his knees. The elder halfling swallowed thickly as he accepted the hard truth. "No better than any man that's ever made you feel uncomfortable."

Disbelief swept over Bulla's face as she tried to absorb what Goten was telling her. The contrast of his earlier affection to him now pulling away puzzled her deeply. She wasn't sure what prompted this sudden change.

"Goten, how could you think that?"

Staring into her blue orbs, Goten saw the sheer admiration she held for him. It made him sick inside, feeling so unworthy of her favor. If only she knew just how deep his fondness for her went. If only she knew how base, how primal…

How Saiyan.

"I'm no better," he repeated, much quieter this time.

Bulla inched over to where he sat over the side of the bed. "Goten," she began again, "you're nothing like him."

Her stalwart confidence was moving, but not convincing enough to the doubt that raged below the surface.

"You don't think if given the chance he'd take you, despite your inexperience?" Goten posed the question with a bit of bitterness. His troubled countenance veered downwards once more.

"That's him. That's them. Not you."

"Isn't it?"

Broadening her eyes, the princess studied his expression. "Is it?' she asked warily. Bulla never considered Goten to be one-tracked or disingenuous for the sake of luring her to bed. His insistence on the similarities he shared with those other men though, seemed to suggest otherwise. Even so, Bulla knew the kind of person he was. Still, his darkened eyes when she first opened the balcony door would forever be imprinted on her memory.

Maybe there was a side of him she had yet to discover.

Bulla's head turned when she felt Goten cup her cheek. She longingly brushed his hand, enjoying the warmth. Her ocean orbs observed his obsidian. "Is it?" she repeated much quieter this time.

Goten started to pull her to him, feeling the magnetic allure once more, but stopped inches before their lips reunited. He closed his eyes in frustration and released her face. Silently, he stood up to head towards the balcony doors, and for Bulla it sunk in that this night would not end how she hoped.

"Goten wait—"

There was a sadness to her tone that had not been there before. Goten paused his movements. Shifting himself towards her, Goten saw the concern she had. His face softened briefly as he studied hers, almost as if it would be the last time. "I crossed a line coming here, Bulla," the older hybrid confessed. "I thought I had myself in check but…I lost control tonight."

Her brows furrowed. "You say that as if I didn't want you to," Bulla murmured.

Goten's half-hearted smile betrayed his words. "Maybe we can both blame it on the moons," he said, opening the door. Goten hesitated before walking through. "I really am sorry though, B-Chan," the elder halfling finished.

Before Bulla could respond, Goten left as quickly as he came. She dashed towards the balcony to see his fading figure flying back to his room, attempting to be as indiscreet as possible. Bulla wrapped her arms around herself when a gentle breeze blew by and she realized she was still just in her nightie. The bluette gazed out into the water gardens before catching the last remnants of Goten's form. Her heart sunk deep into her stomach.

"I don't want an apology, Goten," Bulla said as he finally faded from view. Those blue eyes gazed up at the twin moons, wondering if Goten's words held any truth there. She found herself biting her lip before the emotion overwhelmed.

"I just want you," she whispered.

---

Chapter 11 and well, heaven may be a bit out of reach for some right now.

I've been working on this chapter for so long, I laugh at the different iterations it went through. The Goten/Bulla scenes were very intricately outlined, but I tend to let Trunks/Marron speak more to me when I write them out. I knew they'd have a moment in this chapter to uh, "reconnect" but definitely was surprised at the outcome. Still, I'm happy that there's a nice dichotomy with our two main couples, our two "moons" as it were. I like that they can both explore the different complexities of relationships, even when they sometimes mirror each other.

Chapter 12: Bulla tries to make sense of her evening and Goten tries to remember his place. Marron moves forward with Zasso, and Trunks attempts to get his shit together with the help of Prince Kusa.

Thanks again for all the support, friends!

-SonChan