Disclaimer: I'll just let everyone know...I don't own Dragonball Z. I do, however, own my obsession for Juunana and for Trunks/Juunana pairings. IT'S MY OBSESSION!

A/N: Mirai timeline, before Trunks went to the past. And it's yaoi. And it's a lemon between Juunanagou (Android 17) and Trunks...Juunana's POV. ~Yami

Failing Courage

He glares at me through those beautiful cerulean eyes. Trunks has had this little stare down with me many times, but he has no idea how much I enjoy it. Just being able to stare into his eyes for such a long period of time. Eyes filled with hate and anger, with fear hidden behind the dominant emotions.

He hates me, which is only natural. I mean, I've killed over half the planet's population, including his father and his teacher. So why wouldn't he hate me for all the terrible things I've done? I guess that most in this situation would feel guilt, but as an android, I am not plagued with such things as feelings.

Or I'm not supposed to be.

So, if I'm not allowed to feel, than how is it that in Trunks' presence, the day seems a little brighter? How is it that I can sense a definite difference in my usually cold attitude? Gero programmed me to never know emotion. Could it be that I am more human than I thought?

Maybe so. I'm still human enough to know desire and lust. And the object of it all stands right in front of me, glaring at me through eyes that cast a spell on me. Not that I'm objecting. If I have to feel any amount of emotion, this is definitely what I'd want to know. Love is an interesting emotion to carry.

Today's a little different than most. Juuhachi is out on a shopping spree, leaving me on my own with Trunks. That works for me. After all, I need some time by myself once in a while. And I'm beginning to think that maybe today's happenings will turn out a little differently than they usually would.

Trunks has no idea what my mind is cooking up. Destruction is a lot of fun, but I'm thinking that maybe I need a change in my routine. And who else to be involved in my little scheme but Trunks? Now that I think about it, maybe it really is a good thing that Juuhachi isn't here. I smirk, not giving away anything about what is to come.

He is expecting a fight. Yeah, that'd be the norm, but it gets a little boring after a while. I mean, we always leave him behind, his body and pride taking deep injuries. We haven't killed him yet; after all, who would we play with them? Not that I want to kill him anyway. It would be such a waste, such a beautiful boy...

I wait for a moment, deciding on my exact course of action. He's going to be caught by surprise when this comes together...and I'm going to love every second. Having decided on what to do, I fly toward him, and my punch sends him flying across the barren landscape and into a building. Speeding over to where he is, I continue to fight him. He tries to fight back, but he has known for a long time that he will never be a match for me.

And yet, he still continues to try.

This is something that I have never been able to comprehend. It's funny, he knows that he can't win. Even then, he still comes back time and time again to fight me, to fight us. And I have no problem with that. Hey, now I have an excuse to see him, even if it is on his own basis.

While I watch him trying to hurt me, or at least protect himself, I wonder if he has any idea how I really feel. I doubt it, he knows only hatred for me; it's not like we get a chance to talk. He probably thinks that I am incapable of such a thing as love. Maybe I am supposed to be, but that doesn't change what I feel. After the countless times we've let him go free, I can't help but wonder if he'll ever figure it out.

The battle is over, and he is on the ground, barely hanging on to consciousness. Usually, this would be the point where I say adios and leave until our next meeting. But not today. I have waited for a long time, and I think it's time for a different kind of fun.

His eyes are know filled with fear as I approach him. Trunks thinks that I am going to kill him, but I have no intention of doing that. But it increases the effect of what I DO plan to do. Grinning, I stand to the side of his beaten body.

His eyes are still focused on mine, and he is trying to hide his true terror. But the look only intensifies my feelings; fear has always been a turn-on for me. Seeing the look in the depths of a person's eyes just puts me on a natural high.

It's time to start; I'm done waiting. Kneeling beside him, his gaze lingers on my own eyes, until I make my move. My hand travels between his legs, and he gasps. I know that he has never been with anyone, it's not like he has the time. His time is spent training and fighting us, with little else in between.

He is trying to resist the sweet torture that I am putting him through; this is not something he would ever want nor expect from me. But that only adds on to the benefits. Finally, he can stand it no longer, and gives in to the waves of pleasure I know that he is feeling.

Moving forward a little, but letting my hand stay where it is, I bend down to meet his mouth with mine. I can still see that he wants oppose what I am doing to him, but he is too far gone to return now. I can feel him responding beneath me, and feel the hardening bulge in his pants. I slip my tongue into his mouth, and take a moment to savor its warmth. Exploring him, I can hear him moan into my mouth. I think I can do something about that.

I release his mouth, and return to my previous position. His gaze is now directed high up in the sky. He looks dazed, as if he couldn't get over what he was feeling. With a swift motion, I free him of his pants and boxers. He is extremely hard, and I notice that I am close to that state myself. Getting rid of the jacket and shirt that he always wears, I take a moment to admire his muscular frame. So lovely...

He stares at me as I rid myself of my garments. His eyes widen for a moment, and he looks away. I can't tell if he notices when I insert a finger into him, but he starts a little when two are in. Then three, and I position myself, and slowly push into him. He chokes back a cry of pain, as I drive in deeper. His whole body is tense with a pain that is completely new to him.

I watch as the look on his face suddenly changes as I hit a certain spot inside him. He is feeling the intense pleasure now, as I am. I love the feeling; being surrounded by warmth. I push in and out, hitting that same spot over and over again. Now we are both overcome with bliss. My pace is increasing as I feel myself nearing my climax. Trunks releases before me, spilling onto both of our stomachs, screaming out something that I can't quite make out. My release is shortly after, and I do my best to keep from crying out in ecstasy.

Collapsing beside him, I look over to him, and for the first time, he looks at me without the fear, without the anger. And most importantly, to me at least, he looks at me without the hatred which has always haunted me. I memorize that look, one that I will most likely never see again.

Getting up, I leave him there, wounded and still in a state of awe. No words have been spoken between us; I wouldn't know what to say to him anyway. I gather my clothing, and take off to find my sister. Sometimes I wish that I could tell Trunks how I feel, but what I had just done was as close as I would ever get. And the next time I saw him, he would probably hate me even more.

I know that he could never understand. He thinks that my life is centered around the destruction and pain I cause. And don't get me wrong, I enjoy it. But I would probably give it all up, if I knew Trunks would be mine forever. And that is something that will never happen.

Fear is an emotion that I would have never expected to know; after all, I am the strongest fighter in the universe. It is somewhat embarressing that I should experience fear about admitting how I feel. But it is still there, and I will probably never have the inner strength to say anything. After all I have done to him and the entire world; the killing, the desctruction, it's just impossible to admit. Because he will never understand. And he will never love me.

But maybe one day, I will change that; maybe I will have the strength to admit that I love him.

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