Author's Notes:

This contains explicit homosexual erotic content, and mild sado-masochism. If you are under age, or are offended by such material, please do not read.

Pairings: (Orange Star High) Gohan (18?) X Mirai Trunks (19?)

Mirai Trunks is referred to as Mirai.

I don't own db, dbz, or any of the characters therein. Too bad. I'm making no money with this. You should always be willing to be perverted for free, anyway.

I would appreciate any feedback: [email protected]

This is dedicated to Saiyajin_Raven69- my fellow Queen Pervert. ;D

True Faith

Gohan bit into an apple, as he walked through the patchwork of light and dark, made on the ground by the sun shining through the leaves. He hooked his thumb around his book bag's strap, letting his mind roam over topics covered in last night's homework and yesterday's lessons: Italian Poets, Quantum Mechanics, Ghengis Khan… I hope that weird girl doesn't follow me around, today, he prayed. She's the last thing I need…Mom's bad enough. I don't need a girlfriend to nag me, too. He took another bite from his apple, willing his thoughts back to The Divine Comedy:

Io cognosco i segni del'antica fiama" he thought to himself, "I recognize the sign of the old flame.

Talk about begging for salvation! He chuckled to himself. I'll bet Dante was a closet masochist, to boot. He repeated the quote a few times; positive it would bode well on the predictable `surprise' essay quiz. Probably liked being smacked around, a lot. After another bite, he nodded his head and jumped over a deep root. Another day, another A… Sunshine glinted in the lake directly ahead of him. He could either call Nimbus, or just fly. He didn't care which, today. His mind was so preoccupied with everything and nothing, all at once, that the next five minutes seemed like another piece of scenery on which to wrestle with the mental challenges ahead of him.

Not that I like school. He realized long ago that his mother was living vicariously through his academic achievements. Any attention from the outside world, for respectable- read `ostentatiously correct,' thought Gohan- was to be praised by Chi Chi. Anything less was unacceptable. Her demand was simple: Perfection. The execution of her demand had to be flawless.

But I have to admit, it is a challenge. And Gohan loved challenges. But I'd rather not deal with the other kids- especially the nosy girls! He frowned, taking a third bite from his apple, as he stepped out of the shade, into the sunshine.

He finished his apple, and threw it over his shoulder, as he gazed at the sunshine reflected in the choppy, pale blue water.


He nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a tap at his shoulder. His head jerked to the side as he gasped, barely registering the blue blur behind him.


It felt like him. Something like him. That energy. Gohan nearly jumped in shock again, when he was proved wrong.



He had become used to associating that name with the pesky little kid who acted more like his father, and infuriated his mother with his “bad influence” on Goten. Secretly, he had harbored a deep sense of disappointment that the little rat was nothing like the graceful avenging Angel he had tucked away in his memories. I was just a kid when I saw him, he recalled. What was there to see in me? I couldn't hold a candle to this- this Angel who made battle look like poetry.

As abruptly as Mirai had come into his life, around the perimeters of childhood's limit, he had left, smiling, waving casually as he stepped out of his life. All that was there to remind me, Gohan thought, was that kid- that loud, arrogant little jerk. Nothing like the Angel.

“You should look when you throw things,” Mirai chuckled, tossing the core back at Gohan. His eyebrow went up as he watched it hit Gohan's uniform vest. “Hello?” He waved his hand in front of his face, a small grin tugging at his lips.

“Mirai?” Gohan repeated, confusion slowly replacing the shocked look.

Mirai bent down to pick up the apple core, a mere inch away from Gohan's boot. His head came up, quickly, pulling Gohan back into his shocked state, blue eyes just inches away from his own black ones, momentarily, before Mirai looked over his shoulder, and tossed it into the lake.

“Yes, I am.” Mirai murmured softly, as he moved back to his original footing, with crossed arms.

“You are- you are- what?” Gohan felt a bit overwhelmed. The sudden reality of the surreal situation was not impossible for Gohan to digest, given his experience. He furrowed his brows, trying to normalize, make sense of it, and plot the logical steps: Control the situation, somehow.

“You asked,” Mirai held up two fingers. “Twice. I can say it twice, if you like.” He smiled, letting his white teeth enunciate with smooth lips and a fluid tongue. Gohan watched in a slight daze. “I am Mirai Trunks.”

Gohan, you idiot! He winced, clamping his eyes shut in utter embarrassment. Heat permeated his cheeks.

“Hey-“Mirai put his hand on his arm. “That was rude- I am so sorry!”

Gohan stumbled mentally again, trying to understand what was happening. “Why- what are you doing here?”

Mirai brought his hand back down, sighing, then looked over Gohan's shoulder again, at the shimmering lake.

“Would you like a sandwich?” It was Mirai's turn to be shocked. Gohan was holding out his paper-wrapped, homemade lunch.

For me? Mirai smiled into the dark haired boy's eyes in surprise and gratitude. Ineluctable modality So many things remain the same… He mused, letting his eyes linger in those brave, black depths.

“I don't- I don't want to make you hungry, later,” Mirai smiled.

That smile, thought Gohan, I've heard people talk about lighting up someone's face. That seemed like an overstatement. But in his case- Gohan exhaled, feeling Mirai pat the hand holding his sandwich. It took so long to move his eyes away from the smile, but slowly, as the breath left his chest, he looked down at the white leather gloves causing electrical jolts to rush through him. Gohan inhaled sharply, putting his head down, as he jerked his hand back into his book bag.

“Sorry,” he croaked, wanting to die as his blush deepened. What's wrong with me? Gohan groaned, inwardly. It must be the shock. I mean, this is not a normal situation. It's logical that I would feel abnormal right now. Gohan closed his eyes, muttering, “get a grip,” to himself.

“So- what are you doing here?” Gohan's face furrowed slightly. Something must be wrong, he assumed. There's another threat…that makes sense.

“Meeting an old friend,” Mirai nodded. Gohan mimicked the nod.

“So- this old friend-“ Gohan gestured with his hand, as he looked into Mirai's amused eyes with curiosity, “is someone you're getting help from?”

Mirai stepped toward him, putting his hand on his cheek. “Master-“

Gohan's eyes widened. Wouldn't that have been what he called Mirai Gohan?

“I know it sounds strange-“ Mirai let out an odd laugh, followed by a choke. Gohan blinked, staring back at him. It was Mirai's turn to blush, as the wind lightly blew errant strands over the bridge of his nose. “I had to see you.”

Mirai tried to blow the hair out of his eyes, in exasperation. It never worked. With a sigh he jerked his head. In stunning grace, lavender silk fanned over his head. Suddenly Gohan became very aware of the scent of cinnamon.

Say something, Gohan! He was about to make a complete fool of himself, staring at the Angel in front of him. Talk about the weather, sparring, anything-

“Did- did you have French toast for breakfast?”

I can't believe that's what I said, groaned Gohan.

Mirai laughed lightly, his shoulders moving up and down, as he looked coyly at the dark haired Saiyin. “Yes, Master.”

“It smells good,” Gohan tried to laugh back, desperately looking for some normal face to put over his amazed expression. I'm so used to that little kid around Goten, Gohan realized, that I nearly forgot Mirai. He's so beautiful. When I was a kid, he always took my breath away- the things he said, his grace, his technique. I wanted to be so much like that. So cool- in control. He swallowed hard, as he became aware of that gloved hand pressed against his burning cheek. God I hope he can't feel that.

The air felt cool when Mirai finally moved his hand. He looked down at it, smirking, then back at Gohan, as he sniffed.

“Well, the apple's obvious,” He looked back down at the glove, sniffing again. “Waffles, bacon, eggs-“ he looked up, grimacing playfully. “Poached?

“Right- must be a Saiyan thing.”

“Must be,” Mirai said, softly.

Why do you want to see me?”

“Try to ask yourself,” Mirai turned his back to Gohan, and kept talking as he walked toward the trees. “Ask yourself why I would be back to see you.”

If he's here to see me, why is he leaving?

“Uh-“ Gohan wrinkled his nose, as the breeze tickled his nose with that annoying shock of black hair that never went back. “Friendly visit?” I'm not his Master, he inwardly winced. He might be saying that out of respect for the memory.

Mirai turned right, into the clearing skirted by thick firs. Twigs loudly snapped, creating an audio map for Gohan to mentally locate him with.

Hey!” Gohan shouted. “Are you keeping your time travel capsule in there?

“Yes!” His voice rang back, followed by a loud metallic clang for punctuation.

Mirai came back out, leaning behind a tree and crooking his finger. Gohan tilted his head to the side. So he wants me to see it?

Gohan artlessly bent his legs and jerked forward, feeling clumsy in front of the epitome of grace beckoning him.

“Come over here,” he smiled again. Gohan tripped on a root, wailing as he fell forward, right into Mirai's strong arms. He felt his body shake in horror, as he bent his head down and closed his eyes tightly. I am such a spazz!

He felt the soft leather touch the skin under his chin, gently pulling his face up. He willed his eyes to open. Blue eyes glinted back at him.

“Please don't be nervous, Master.”

Mirai bent his knees slightly, pulling up a flustered Gohan. “I want to show you something.”

“The- the capsule?”

Mirai kept his hand clasped over Gohan's forearm, as he turned with feline grace, and began leading Gohan through the clearing. “In a way,” He chuckled softly.

Gohan was suddenly aware that his hand had, in turn, clasped onto Trunk's forearm, as he carefully maneuvered over the sinister roots and stones that conspired to make a fool of him.

“Here it is.”

Gohan looked up and took in the tattered blue and gold machine. The Capsule Corps logo imprinted in the titanium was gashed with one of several dozen dents that marred the orb. Scratches had torn away most of the paint that hadn't been scorched. Amazing that he can still use the thing, Gohan thought.


Mirai squeezed his arm lightly, as his other hand moved up, and a gloved finger pointed to a word scratched into bare metal.

Hope,” Gohan read aloud.

“That's right.”

Mirai turned to Gohan, putting both hands on Gohan's shoulders. Vaguely, Gohan registered he was still holding on to Mirai's arm.

“When you died,” Mirai whispered, “I almost lost hope. But you taught me to fight against the odds.” He closed his eyes. “Hope.” He opened his eyes again, smiling into Gohan's shocked face. “For a chance against the androids, then Cell-“ He shook Gohan tenderly, looking into his eyes. “The chance for you- my Master- to have a better life.”

Gohan choked. What is he saying?

“Master-“ Gohan blinked helplessly into the blue eyes level with his. His stomach knotted, as the hands began to move, massaging the skin under the stiff white cotton of his uniform shirt. “Tell me about your life.”

White teeth and that dexterous tongue played against the soft lips and hidden palate, mesmerizing Gohan. My life? The most incredible creature in the world, Gohan was taken aback, wants to hear about me?

“Well…” he swallowed hard, looking down. “I-I'm getting…pretty g-good grades…”

“School,” Mirai smiled.

“Yeah- school.” Gohan pressed his lips together, and then made a light popping sound with them. “Pretty boring stuff, really.”

“Boring's good,” smiled Mirai, as he shifted his weight and brought his hands back to his sides.

Gohan looked back up, feeling a little bereft. I don't understand why, he thought. Maybe I just really need to feel accepted. Not just Gohan the fighter. Or Gohan the scholar. But all of me.

Mirai narrowed his eyes on to his in rapt attention. “You know, you were my teacher.”

Really?” Gohan stood where he was, watching in fascination as the sunshine illuminated the lavender hair, making it almost white.

“Really.” Mirai leaned his head back, closing his eyes. “You taught me so many things.” He sighed, shaking his head with a small smile. “Can I give you some advice?”


“'Never let school interfere with your education.'”

“Mark Twain,” Gohan nodded, as he recognized the quote.

“Very good,” Mirai purred, pushing his back against the tree to stand back up.

“No big deal," Gohan shuffled his feet, fighting the flush that kept staining his cheeks, as he watched Mirai saunter toward him, again. Keep talking, dummy, he berated himself. Don't just stand there staring! “He- he was self-educated, wasn't he?” He closed his eyes, shutting out the image of Mirai, just a few feet away from him, narrowing his blue gaze in that strange way, as he came closer. Gohan nervously scratched the back of his neck, laughing. “You can't expect a self educated writer to talk about how great school is, can you?”

“So you're leaving, then?”

Oh, god no! I wouldn't leave for anything- Gohan's eyes snapped open. Mirai stopped, only half a foot away from him, and that smile came back.

“Are you?”

“Am I what?” Gohan was lost, barely able to articulate the words. Lost in the interplay of white teeth and soft lips framing that wet, pink tongue. Lost in the music, the brilliant rhythm that translated this into mere mortal language. Completely lost.

“Going to school, now?” The smile toned down to a smirk.

“Oh.” Gohan felt his stomach lurch. He wants me to leave now! “Okay then,” he stepped back, inclining his head, as he intended to give him a respectful goodbye. A root caught his ankle, and his arms spun as he fell backwards. Strong arms caught him, hands locked around his back. Gohan stared up into Mirai's face, his nose less than half an inch away from his.


Gohan felt limp, almost weak, as he shook in Mirai's arms. He was immobile, staring into those shining blue eyes. He could feel soft, warm puffs of his breath on his face, intermingling with his own. The tip of his nose touched his. Mirai deftly, subtly, moved his head, and closed his eyes, as he rubbed their noses together.

“Oh, Master-“

Gohan's eyes closed, as he saw Mirai's head tilt. A moment later he felt a warm, soft kiss on his lips, lingering for a moment. He gasped. His eyes flew open, and Mirai pulled him up, abruptly letting him go, as he spun on his heel and turned away.

Confusion came back to Gohan. Did we just kiss? He nearly ran his hand through his hair, but stopped just as he saw Mirai doing the same. The pale lavender cascaded through his long fingers. He felt a strange longing inside of him. For something Mirai seemed to have.

“I'm sorry.” Mirai's voice was very soft.

Gohan shook his head. I don't understand, at all.

“I am moving too fast.” Mirai sighed, turning around, smiling ruefully at Gohan. “You got a girlfriend?”

“What- me?” Gohan tried to laugh. “I don't- there are these two girls I know, but-“ he pointed across the lake and shook his head with a grimace. “No!” He stated, resolutely.

“Two girls, Master Gohan?” Mirai chuckled, wagging a finger over his crossed arms.

Gohan waved his hands in front of his face, closing his eyes and laughing. “No way! No girlfriends for me!”

“Interesting,” Mirai brought a thumb to his lip. Gohan stopped laughing and blinked. “Do you like girls?”

“Girls?” Gohan swallowed, hard. “You mean, do I find women sexually attractive?”

“Well, that's more specific,” Mirai pretended to mull over the question with an exaggerated pout, rolling his eyes a few times. “But I will accept any answer,” He looked back at Gohan. “Any answer, Master.”

Gohan wondered if he imagined the double meaning there. Well, he did kiss me… “I like-“ he bit his lip, looking down as the words seemed to rush out of him.

“Do you like a challenge?”


“And its no challenge when they throw themselves at you, is it?”

“No- that's not it.”

Mirai's eyebrow went up. That maddening thumb kept stroking his lip.

How long is he going to keep doing that? Gohan audibly groaned, as he asked the silent question.

“Then what is it?” This time the thumb went to those straight lower teeth, and his tongue stayed on the tip, after the words were done.

“I don't know,” Gohan helplessly tapped his hands at his sides, as he unconsciously licked his upper lip. This is too weird, he thought. Maybe I should go-

Gohan quickly turned left, making his way between a fir and a large oak tree. He tried to remember the genus and species name for either, failing miserably as his mind stayed focused on the Saiyan he thought was behind him. Suddenly, he was proven wrong, again, when he felt a pair of hands grab his shoulders and shove him against the oak tree, knocking the wind out of him.

Struggling to breathe, he stared in shock, as the lavender head came down, and his gasping mouth was covered, and then invaded, by a sweet, moist tongue.

“Don't go, Master-“ Mirai breathed into Gohan's mouth, then lanced his tongue through, again, as he pressed his back into the tree with his armored chest and gloved hands. Gohan's hands fell to his sides, the fingers twitched slightly, as he felt Mirai taste the inner lining of his lips.

“Don't leave me again-“

Deft hands slid down Gohan's arms. He groaned as Mirai lapped his tongue against his, feeling his groin tighten in response. The hands kept going, further down, over his hands, grasping them, fingers tangled together, as Mirai pulled back, breaking this kiss.

Gohan gazed, his eyes half lidded and glazed, as Mirai brought one of his hands up to cup his cheek. Gohan shuddered as he watched the older Saiyan rub his face into the trembling hand, with eyes shut tight.

“I'll die if you go, Master-“

The other hand gripped his fingers tightly through the soft leather.

“I- I'm not going anywhere.” Gohan looked at him in awe. He- needs me? The desire was already surprise enough. But it's more than that. Gathering up his nerve, he leaned forward, and placed a gentle, shy kiss on the trembling lips. Mirai gasped, opening his mouth, slightly, as Gohan kissed him again. This was slower. Gohan let his tongue lick that sweet lower lip, as his hand slipped from the satin cheek into silken hair. Mirai groaned, moving his hands to Gohan's vest, running his fingers up and down the chiseled flesh under the rough wool. Gohan answered by pushing his tongue deeper into Mirai. He stroked that hair, as hands pulled his shirt up, and fingers pressed their way over his bunching abdominal muscles.

Mirai broke the kiss, panting as he stared into Gohan's glittering black eyes. Some things don't change at all, he thought, struggling to pull the buttons of his Master's vest through their loops. The gloves made it impossible. He decided to take them off, growling as he put a pinky to his teeth and tugged.

Is it possible to be more erotic? Gohan doubted anyone could be.

“Let me,” he put his hand over Mirai's, stilling him, then brought his hands down to his button, eyes never leaving his, as he willed his fingers to work. Please get through the hole…. Please get through the damn hole…Please…. Gohan smiled, as the button popped out. Mirai smiled back, as he began to tug at his glove, again.

“Don't!” Gohan surprised himself, this time, with a voice he did not know he had. Mirai blinked, then let the leather fall from between his teeth, nodding obediently. “I want you to leave them on-“

Another button popped through. Gohan could not believe how much power he seemed to have over the beautiful Angel in front of him, how unashamed he was, so willing to do what he asked. The last button came off. The vest hung over his shoulders; Gohan ran a finger over the seam, watching Mirai bite his lip.

“Take it off for me-“

With hands shaking in their gloves, Mirai placed his hands beneath the vest, palms down on the heated flesh under the white shirt. They rode up, burning a trail over Gohan's chest, then across his collarbone. Gohan tilted his head slightly back, closing his eyes and compressing his mouth as he held his arms slightly out, enough to let the vest drop to the ground, once Mirai rounded his shoulders. The hands came back up, around his neck, lovingly caressing the muscled cords.

Gohan inhaled deeply, as he began unbuttoning his white shirt, never opening his eyes as he relished the feel of warm leather on his skin, moving over the pulse in his throat. One button came out. One glove dropped slightly to touch the dip at the bottom of his throat. The second button. Gohan groaned as he felt Mirai's other glove move to frame his face with splayed fingers. The third. A glove traced the line from that dip to the center of his chest, and then covered his heart, pumping like a juggernaut. Fourth. The hand on his face brushed over his cheek, into his hair, gently combing through the untamed spikes. Fifth. Gohan gasped, as both hands suddenly grasped the lapels of the shirt.


Gohan's eyes snapped open, at the sound of the soft, deep voice.

“Can I take this off, for you, also?”

Mirai was flushed. Shaking like a leaf as his eyes raked over what Gohan had exposed for him. Chiseled, pale skin, honed to hardened perfection. He bit his lip and looked back into his eyes. He was always so handsome, Mirai thought. Some things never change.

“Yes,” Gohan felt the response come out like a hiss, as the final button came undone. Mirai nodded back, peeling the shirt over his shoulders, then leaning forward to pull it down, gasping as Gohan took command again, catching his lips with his, answering his gasp with a moan, as the hard armor dug into his naked torso. The shirt fell on top of the vest, forgotten, as Gohan brought his hands up to Mirai's shoulders, finding the clasps on his armor, then biting his lip, accidentally, as he flicked the latches. Mirai cried into his mouth, and Gohan broke the kiss, frowning as he brought an apologetic hand to Mirai's face.

“Did I hurt you?”

Mirai buried his mouth against the palm, smiling into it as he shook his head. “I- I liked it,” he closed his eyes as a deep crimson flush burned his cheeks.

“Biting?” Gohan asked, staring at the enraptured Angel in front of him.

Mirai moaned, and nodded again.

Gohan silenced him with another kiss, and then brought himself back to the task at hand. He traced his fingers over the loosened armor, feeling around the puckered edges, until he was bent at the knee, his face a mere inch away from Mirai's throat, searching for the last two clasps. Bingo. Right over the pectoral muscles. Mirai obediently mimicked Gohan's earlier gesture, raising his arms up fractionally, as his Master stood back up, pulling the armor off, then letting it fall to the ground. Mirai unceremoniously kicked it away.

“Your shirt-“ Gohan pointed, with a shaking finger. “Take that off!”

Mirai nodded, as he pulled the spandex over his head, careful to keep the gloves on, and then let it drop to the ground, close to his armor. Gohan was astonished by how charged he was feeling, how damn erotic it was to order this beautiful man- this Angel! - And for each order to be followed with complete adoration and compliance! A counterpart to his lust for control, he realized, as he gazed at the honey colored muscles criss-crossed with scars. But not for me. Gohan's heart sank when he realized: He's only using me, as a substitute for the Master he lost.

Mirai ran his gloved hand through his hair, attempting to pull it back into some semblance of sanity, as he stood before his Master. What is he thinking? He wondered, as he watched Gohan stare back at him.

“You miss him?” His finger came up to trace a line over the scar over his heart. Mirai's knees buckled, as he struggled to respond.

“Do you think of him?” Gohan's other hand went to the waistband, the pad of his thumb rubbed against the seam. “Tell me-“ He growled, raking his nails over his chest, relishing the grimace that contorted that beautiful face.

“Of course!” The words were wrenched from his throat. “I always think of you-“

Of him!” Gohan shouted, pushing a startled Mirai down to the earth, as he snarled and loomed over him, transforming himself into an angry demon, black eyes shuttered, mouth turned down into a cruel curve. “This is about someone else- your `Master,'” he spat the last word out.

“Please don't-“ Mirai's head was turned to the side, his hair, whipping in the wind, flowed over his face, hiding his expression. The voice was so soft, so quiet.

“What?” Gohan immediately regretted his show of temper. So much for control, he mourned. I have no control over the situation at all.

“I only wanted-to know you. To know it was better this way, for you.”

“And if it was, you could use me with a clear conscience- right?

“Master Gohan, I-“

Damnit!” Gohan reared away, his back hitting the tree again, as he stared down at the submissive figure at his feet. “That's what this is all about, isn't it?”

I swear, Master!” Mirai was rubbing the tears out of his eyes with the backs of his gloves. “I didn't come here to pretend!”

“Then what was all this about, then?” Gohan whispered fiercely. “Why do you suddenly want" his hands flew up in the air “all this-

“All of you-“ Mirai stood back up, catching his arms, pinning his wrists above his head with one hand as the other gently cupped his cheek. “I want all of you!”

Blue eyes looked beseechingly into confused obsidian. My poor, sweet Master, Mirai thought, in any guise I can see you!

“I am not your Master Gohan,” he groaned, turning his head away.

“You are.”

“I am just some kid- some kid on his way to school.”

Mirai shook his head. “The same DNA. The same name.”


“But nothing- nothing else!” Gohan swung his head back around, contorting his face painfully. If only it wasn't true! Gohan, at that moment, would have given anything to believe otherwise.

“Poor, poor Master,” Mirai groaned, letting his go of his grip, as he turned away. “You don't know how wrong you are…”

“Tell me then!” Gohan cried. “Tell me I'm wrong. Show me the proof!”

“Proof,” Mirai sighed, looking up at the sunshine glinting through the leaves above him.

“Prove that who you are is essential?”

“We are the sum of our experiences,” Gohan contradicted, blandly.

“Always analyzing. You always wanted control of the situation.” Mirai looked at him, adoringly. “You used to quote Milton: `He who reins within himself and rules passions, desires, and fears is-

'-More than a king.'

'-More than a king.'

Gohan felt as though Mirai had found something deep within him, a secret artifact of his soul, and described it as easily as observing the sky was blue. Blue, like the sky in his eyes. Gohan flinched when he caught himself musing at Mirai's face, again.

“That's a bunch of crap.”

This time Mirai flinched. But he never looked away. “There's more,” Mirai groaned. “I didn't know anyone but you-“ he whispered, forcefully. “But what I did know of people,” he shook his head, ”told me they would do worse than just run from the challenge of dealing with what they can't control, much worse.” He sat still as stone and let his eyes bore into Gohan's.

“And what's that?” Gohan breathed.

“Give up.”


Beyond all the guises, Thought Mirai. Beyond logic. Infantile obsessions with science. Beyond- hell!- Beyond hope! Mirai sighed. Hope is really faith with a tinge of doubt. No- beyond everything there is only Faith.

“But not you,” he smiled bravely.

“So this is supposed to make me think `I am he as you are he as you are me and we are all together?'

“Now that,” Mirai somehow managed to tease, with a pointed finger, “is new.” He crossed his arms, wrinkling his nose. “John Lennon, Master Gohan?” He smirked back at him, taking his breath away.

Since when did I like John Lennon enough to quote him? Gohan laughed at the thought.

“Since when did you ever like John Lennon enough to quote him?” Mirai laughed back.

Gohan suddenly stopped laughing. Instant Karma was the only phrase that passed through Gohan's mind.

“What- what was that about?”

“You want to punish me,” Mirai blinked, as he sucked in his last laugh. Gohan's breath hissed through his teeth. What is this? This time, he shocked himself, with mental pictures of Mirai bent over his knee, being given the punishment he so freely admitted to needing.

Mirai smiled, blinking again. “To shock me, keep me in line. I need it.” Elation swept through him, as he drank in Gohan's new flush, the dreamy sweep of those thick lashes over his red cheeks; how it poured over his skin, over the smooth, taut flesh of his chest. He might not have the scars, but he has the same reactions. If only I wasn't too -

“It's not really punishment,” he drawled, watching Gohan stand up and dust his pants off. He leaned into his elbow, and tilted his head as he watched the interplay of muscles under his creamy skin as he bent and stretched. All a way to tell me he's in control, Mirai decided. To say the situation doesn't bother him. It won't bother me either, Master. I follow your lead. Whatever you want. Even if- Mirai fought to keep the smile on his face. “You would never mean to make me feel worse or lose something. You were only defining your terms.”

“Terms?” Gohan said, determined to sound disconnected while he continued to bend and pretend to care about the dirt on his pants. I can't look him in the eye!

“What you would accept, what you would reject.”

“I know what terms are!” He snapped, finally standing up straight, with his hands on his hips. “You understand the question.” Impatience won over shame.

More discipline, Mirai bit his lip. Yes, Master.

“You want me to know you are in charge of the situation. Aggressive species use force, often implied force, on subordinates, to keep them in check.” Mirai shook his head. “But actual force is not what gives power to the dominant.”

Gohan stared back at Mirai, feeling his body heat rise, and knowing he couldn't do a thing to hide it as Mirai looked on. He licked his parched lips, shaking his head slightly as he asked: “So what gives them power?”

Mirai got to his feet, in one fluid motion, letting the dirt from the forest floor cling to his skin and spandex. “Love.

Gohan's entire being froze.

“Have you seen nature documentaries, Master?” Mirai came toward him, slowly, tilting his head to the side. Gohan nodded, infinitesimally. “Have you seen how alpha males dominate another group member?” Blue eyes looked out of their corners, as he kept watching, as he kept his head oddly turned to the side. “Sometimes they nip,” his lips twitched, “or they might spar, to re-establish hierarchies based on strength.”

Like Saiyans,” Gohan choked.

“Now you're talking,” Mirai smiled.

“What are you doing?” Gohan said hoarsely, as Mirai kneeled before him, taking his hand and placing it on the cheek he had turned to him.

“I want you to assert your dominance-“

“This-“ He snatched his hand away, “this isn't sparring, Mirai…”

“I can do that if you want,” He moaned, dropping to the ground, rubbing his head against Gohan's shins.

The sight made Gohan groan, loudly. “Mirai!

“Don't you want to know how else they establish dominance?”

“I-I have the feeling you're going to tell me-“

“I think you know.”


The lavender haired teen sat back on his heels, tossing his hair back over his shoulders, to look back up to Gohan with absolute stillness.

“I need you to, Master,” he said, simply.

Gohan's eyes lit with the confirmation. Like the urge I feel to- to make him. Gohan swallowed hard as he stared down into the trusting, shining blue intensity sitting at his feet. This complete obedience. In this beautiful, perfect Angel. And he lays it at my feet. Perfect love. Perfect trust.

“I need you, also.”

It was almost inaudible. But as loud as thunder in Mirai's ears. He nodded, fiercely, and then crushed his face into Gohan's shins, again, shuddering as his gloves bruised him in their grip.

Too much… it's too much for me-

Gohan groaned as he hauled the lavender haired Saiyan up against the tree behind him, shoving a khaki knee between the spandex, and pressing his mouth against those trembling lips, lancing his tongue through his sweet core.

“Mirai-“ he whispered, touching his cheek with one index finger, pulling back the windblown strands. “My Trunks-“ His mouth came back down, against a grunting reply. “Mirai-“ he pulled his mouth away, again, licking the soft lips that were offered se freely. “You're mine-“

“I've always been-“

Gohan pushed away from him, smirking as he put his hands on his hips. Mirai quickly realized this was part of the old game, from a different version of the same Master. He smirked back, ready to do whatever he was told.

“If you are, if you really are,” Gohan's smirk grew, “you'll do whatever I tell you.”

Mirai groaned.

Gohan suppressed his own. He is so willing- can I? Though he was not as experienced with erotic situations as his counterparts were, he knew what he wanted, in terms of sex: Total control. And he was very educated in terms of judging body language, which helped make up for his lack of sensual experience. The Saiyan before him was eager, that much was evident, in the strict attention he was being given. Every move was being studied, just as he was studying. He wants to please me. Gohan smiled. Good.

“Take those off,” he pointed to Mirai's pants. “The boots, too.”

“Yes! Yes Master!” Mirai bent down, quickly kicking off his boots, sliding the spandex away, to reveal his naked, chiseled arousal. Gohan's breath caught in his throat. He'd seen naked men before. Training as he had, he was bound to. But he had never seen another aroused man, before. Only himself. He had no other reference. But Mirai was a specimen, he was sure. His honeyed skin stretched tightly over his washboard stomach, and positively gleamed over his slightly darker, proud shaft, which protruded from soft, light purple down between powerful muscular thighs.

You are so beautiful-

Mirai beamed, holding his arms out as he moved toward him. Not yet! Gohan warned himself, as he backed away from Mirai, with a frown, shaking his finger.

“But you still need discipline, don't you?”

Mirai stopped, dropped his hands, and simply nodded, quietly appealing with his eyes.

Gohan gave a mock sigh, and then dropped to the ground, letting his legs splay. He patted his lap, smiling up at Mirai, patiently.

“Come here,” Gohan ordered. “Tell me all about what a bad boy you are.”

Mirai blushed, folding his hands in front of his erection, barely touching himself, then turned gingerly around, slowly lowering himself to perch on Gohan's khaki thigh. He put both palms under his knees, criss-crossing his arms over his shaft, leaning and looking down.


“I've had very impure thoughts,” He whispered.

“Like what?” Gohan barked, in a perversely cheerful voice. “And speak up, so I can hear you!” He jiggled his leg up and down, biting his lip as he watched Mirai nearly loose his equilibrium.

“I-I I think about having sex!”

“Having what?”

“Sex, Master!”

“What do you call it?”

Mirai groaned again. I would never have guessed how much you needed this too- my deranged, twisted, perverted, lover… “Fucking! I think about fucking all day, Master!”

“What a disgusting little slut you must be!” Gohan chuckled as he narrowed his eyes.

“Oh, yes, Master!” Mirai closed his eyes, willing the tears to go back. Only for you…

“Tell me,” Gohan's eyes narrowed as he traced the line defined by the musculature of Mirai's back. “How does a slut like you like to spend his time?”

“Fucking, Master.”


“Fucking, Master! I like to spend my time fucking.”

“Oh, I bet you do…” Gohan chuckled, as his mind reeled with a collage of mental pictures Mirai's words were creating. Hands all over his angel, adoring the supple flesh, groping, as he helplessly bit his lip. Bodies, faceless, nameless, anonymous bodies, pressing, grinding against his beloved, as he writhed and succumbed, over and over, to the whim of the world, having it's way with him. Suddenly he felt his heat rise higher, as he grabbed the back of Mirai's neck, growling at the shocked intake of breath, and threw him over his knee, propping up his taught, tan hips.

“You want discipline? You got discipline!”

Gohan rubbed his hand over the firm globes presented to him. Immediately Mirai bucked, pressing his jutting shaft into Gohan's thigh.

“Are you being bad, Mirai?” Gohan teased in his strange, cheerful tone, again. It dropped down an octave and changed into a more clipped staccato, when he chastised him: “You don't move, unless I say you can!”

“Yes!” Mirai breathed, turning his head and looking up at Gohan with complete submission. “Yes, Master!”

“And don't look at me!” Gohan began rubbing the firm hips, again, chuckling as Mirai's head jerked forward, again. “I should take care of that for you, shouldn't I?”

Mirai moaned.

Gohan looked around, trying to find- there it is! He grabbed his uniform vest, smiling at the delicious symbolism, and carefully folded it into a long strip. Perfect, he thought, looking back down at Mirai, who was patiently lying over his khaki knee. Perfect for my perfect Angel.

“This will help you.” The cheerful voice was back, in perverse contrast with the insidious feel of the scratchy wool lightly treading over Mirai's calve, thigh, buttock, the line of his spine… Mirai bit his lip, trembling with an effort to obey his Master. I can do anything, anything for you…

“You shouldn't have to be burdened with distractions.”

The voice was much softer, now. Full of a strange compassion, an understanding of what was necessary. What I need! Thought Mirai. Help me. Decide for me. He shuddered as he felt the fabric cover his eyes. I don't need to see, anymore. The material was wrapped around his head. Now that you can see things the way they were meant to be. Gohan tied a tight knot at the back of Mirai's head, carefully. Not a single strand of hair was pulled into the double knot. Guide me Master. Teach me all the things you've learned in this better place.

“Much better!”

Mirai moaned and nodded.

“No sounds!”

Gohan raised his hand up high, and then let it crack down on the perfect flesh, relishing the echo that clapped through the forest. A flock of sparrows took flight overhead, as Gohan continued instruction.

“No moving!”

Another smack. Mirai clawed the ground between his fingers and gritted his teeth.

“Unless I say you can!”

The strange, cheerful note was undercut with sharp constanants. Mirai willed his gloved fingers to stay rooted in the dirt, as Gohan gave him another spank.

“You're a dirty little slut, Angel!”

Mirai's heart nearly fell out of his chest at the sound of his old endearment. Some things are forever- even my nickname! Another smack came down.

“I bet you've been doing all sorts of disgusting things, haven't you?” Gohan grinned devilishly as he let his hand come down on the rump already sporting his red handprints. Keep it up, Angel. That's it- “Answer me, slut!”

“Oh, yes! I'm a disgusting little slut, Master!”

Another smack.

“Tell me all about it.” Gohan grabbed the back of Mirai's hair and yanked his head up, punctuating his demand with another spank.

“I- I'm the ch-cheapest-“ Mirai began to shake, feeling the tip of his erection come in contact with the rough khaki of his Master's pants. “The ch-cheapest whore…I-I fuck for free…. s-s-somet-times…”

Another smack. This one was on his upper thighs. It was difficult not to react to the surprise. Mirai bit his lip, and took a deep breath.

“Go on! Don't test my patience!”

“I like- I like to fuck total strangers-” Mirai turned his head to the side and sucked in a moan as he felt Gohan rub his sore skin lovingly. “I like to suck their c-cocks…let them fuc-ck me up th-the ass-ss”

Gohan's head reeled, imagining the beautiful face of his Angel coated with semen, his hands and knees on the ground in some filthy ally, trash everywhere, as nameless, faceless figures took turns reaming him, grinding into him over and over.

“SLUT!” He hollered, slamming his hand down on the flesh with gusto. “I bet you like it too- don't you?”

“I-I” Mirai swallowed, willing himself to control the trembling that racked his body. “I l-love it-t-t!”

Gohan threw his head back down, chuckling. “What would you do if you saw me in some filthy alley?”

Another smack came down on his thigh. Mirai shuddered. “I would- I would wait for you-“

“And?” Gohan pinched the red welts, hard, feeling his length press through the seam of his pants, insistently.

“I- I w-would t-take whatev-vver offer you m-made-“

“Pay a slut?” He pinched again, twisting this time. “I don't think so-“

“I- I would pay you-“

Gohan suddenly stood up, laughing as Mirai rolled on his back, helplessly, on the forest floor. “I don't want your money, Angel,” Gohan breathed. “I just want to get off!”

“Yes Master!”

“Tell me what you would do for me.”

Mirai lay still as stone, as he heard rustling near his head. I've needed this for too long, he realized, as he heard a zipper, then two thuds, which he could only guess were Gohan's shoes.

“I w-would get on my knees- in the alley”

“Go on!” Gohan's voice was above him. He inhaled deeply, taking in the musky scent, surmising he was now naked, towering over him. His shaft leapt at the thought.

“I said go on, you disgusting slut!”

Suddenly hands were fisted in his hair, and he was being dragged up, propped on his knees. Mirai tried not to lick his lips in anticipation. Instead, he hoped his description would bring him closer to heaven…

“I- I w-would let you rub it on my face-“

Gohan shoved his face forward, keeping a tight grip on his scalp as he ground his shaft against his cheek. Mirai inhaled the scent of his Master, deeply.

“You sick, easy slut!”

“I- would…I'd lick it like…candy-“

Gohan moved back, rubbing his tip against Trunk's lower lip. Obediently, the pink tongue came forward, flitting over the slit. Mirai tilted his head to the side, letting his tongue run down the rigid length, then under as he came back up, and then repeated the process on the other side.

Gohan watched in a trance, willing his legs not to buckle as the heat enveloped him, and Mirai took him in his mouth- finally- wriggling his tongue over the bottom of his penis as he coated him with saliva. I'm going to lose it, Gohan realized, right here, if I don't stop him!

“That's enough!” He snapped, pulling Mirai's head back. The string of saliva connecting his penis to Mirai's wet mouth riveted his eyes. Oh, Angel! You make this so right!

“Tell me what else you'd do!”

Mirai noted the shaky treble of his voice, under the steel tone. He's fighting for control. He remembered what lengths his Master went through, to keep that control, understanding, as Mirai understood him, that each needed to be strong for the other, to be willing to sacrifice himself for the other's needs.

“I'd play with myself, I'd let you watch, do whatever you said to do.”

Gohan groaned. As if he read my mind-

“Then do it-“

Mirai nodded, bringing his hands to his chest, waiting for direction. He heard something rustle in the leaves next to him, nearly jumping when he felt a warm hand on his back.

“Touch your chest- go ahead,”

It was a soft whisper in his ear, the hot breath washed through the shell of his ear, over his cheek, down his neck, as his hands obeyed, leather sliding over the silken skin, lightly pressing into the ridges of his definition.

“It's so smooth through the glove, isn't it?”

Mirai felt Gohan's hand cover his glove; the digits lay between the white leather, touching his skin with his naked fingers.

“Nngh- Y-yes. Yes, M-Master.”

“Sit on your heels.”

The hand pushed against him, drawing him toward the warmth of Gohan's chest, behind him. Mirai sighed as he felt his legs entrap his own, the feet touching his knees. Oh, Master, I missed you so much…

“Lift your ass up, then put your head on my shoulder.”

His head fell back against his shoulder, exposing his neck, drawing his body back like a bow on a string.

Very good, Gohan thought. He licked Mirai's ear, groaning slightly as he felt the erratic jump in the lavender haired Angel's heartbeat. Just hold back, he reminded himself. He sucked the lobe into his mouth as he guided Mirai's glove down the rippling, bunching muscles of his abdomen, relishing the smooth feel over tight steel between rigid fingers.

“Aren't you the anxious slut?” Gohan whispered. His tongue ran down his throat. The light taste of salt mixed with the cinnamon scent. Gohan lapped it up, as he looked down and watched their fingers reach purple pubic hair.

“Do it.”

Mirai's moaned, lifting up his hand. Immediately, Gohan bit his shoulder, leaving a mark.

“No sounds, you slut!”

Mirai held his hand up in the air, waiting for permission after that transgression. Gohan's fingers stayed straight, Mirai's did also, in direct imitation. Gohan looked at the two hands, one gloved, one unsheathed, feeling a strange sense of deja vu. Is that possible? He wondered.

“Go ahead, Angel. Show me what a desperate slut you are.”

Mirai let his hand come down, slowly, until his covered palm met the head of his shaft. Gohan could feel the Angel's body tremble as his hand tilted and allowed his partner's fingers to curl around his erection. He followed suit, trying not to buck and failing miserably, as the hands went down, sculpting the flesh.

Mirai felt another hand on his chest, and bit down hard on his lower lip, to quell any reaction.

“No moving!”

Deft fingers found his nipple. In one motion Gohan pinched and twisted. The only discernable reaction was a nervous swallow in Mirai's throat, as the rest of his body stayed still as stone.

“That's my Angel.”

Gohan moved his hand up, guiding Mirai, blowing warm breath over his heated skin, humming softly.

“There you go- show me how you play…”

Eyes were riveted on the bead of moisture building up around the slit. Gohan touched the tip with his other hand, gathering the beads with his fingers, then curled his arm around Mirai's rigid neck, to taste him.

So sweet, thought Gohan, as he sucked. He pulled Mirai face to his, and smiled at the now lopsided blindfold, straightening it with his hand, before opening Mirai's mouth with his fingers.

“Taste this.”

Mirai's tongue immediately protruded, slightly, not daring to touch the fingers on the side of his mouth, simply waiting to sample whatever was directly offered to his palate.

Gohan touched his tongue to the Angel's, pushing down with his hand, then back up, over and over, making Mirai stroke himself.

“Don't you taste horny?”

“Yes. M-mas-ster-r-r.”

Hands continued to pump, lubricated by the moisture that had trickled anew from Mirai.

“Are you a horny little slut, Angel?”

Mirai could feel his breaking point. Whatever you want, Master!

“I-I am a horny slut for you!”

Gohan stopped, breathing harshly, as his head fell on Mirai's shoulder. Oh god, Angel! He railed inwardly. You're so perfect- how can I deserve-

He pushed Mirai away, and quickly moved.

What? Mirai suppressed a sob as he felt the break in bodily contact. Have I done something wrong, Master?

His breath hissed in his throat, as he felt two hands prying his knees part, then another gently pushing against his stomach, guiding him to lay back. Oh sweet Master…Yes!

“Then I'll just have to take care of that for you!”

Mirai's gloved fingers were clawing the dirt; his legs were shaking uncontrollably, as Gohan's errant lock of hair tickled his stomach.

Gohan inhaled the muskier scent of his torso, staring down at the heavenly shaft that stood just a breath away from his mouth. So perfect, so beautiful, he thought. Hands on the Angel's knees, he brought his mouth down on the skin over those bulging abdominal muscles. He lathed the skin, as his upper chest rubbed against Trunk's aching arousal. His hands wandered over the shaking thighs, up and down, as his tongue lovingly swirled downward, until the shaft was against his cheek.

How many times, Mirai wondered through his haze, have I wished for this? My sweet Master: Take me, teach me, make me…

Heaven was just a moment away. The infinitesimal milliseconds it took for Gohan's lips to encircle the tip. Heaven was the release after those torturous years, described so succinctly in the breath's length Gohan waited, before he came down on Mirai, flitting his tongue over the slit, taking him into his mouth. Heaven, Mirai realized, as his mouth took more, is now.

A hand cupped the tightened sacks beneath his shaft, as Gohan began to bob his head up and down, creating a merciless suction, taking more and more of Mirai with every stroke, until he hit the back of his throat.

The taste, the texture… Gohan closed his eyes, fighting the urge to flip Mirai over and take him right there. It would be so easy, he teased himself. He dismissed the temptation, growling roughly as Mirai's heel skidded down. No- not yet.

I'm coming… Mirai began to feel his body freeze in the icy heat of his arousal. The ground tipped as the earth rotated on a new axis. There was nothing more than the focus and relentless pull. I'm coming… He could see, in his mind's eye, the black shining eyes, carefully watching him, gauging the right time, reading his soul like an open book. Just like you want me to…I'm coming…

Gohan moaned, as he felt the orgasm shoot through his mouth. It was a fountain. For ceaseless time, it poured and poured, too much for Gohan to manage, though he tried to swallow as much as he could. Mirai cried out and bit his gloved finger, trembling as he sprayed all over his Master's face.

Gohan watched Mirai writhe, panting as the semen dripped from his face and the corners of his mouth. Come for me Angel, oh yes! His hand gripped the sputtering shaft and pumped at it, bringing his mouth back down to suck at the head, relishing the scream it brought out of Mirai.

How can heaven be too good? Mirai did not understand. The pleasure was too much, like being burned in a fire. Gohan's sucking continued, like he was drinking from a straw, pulling the last drops of semen through Mirai's orgasm. Once it stopped, Mirai cried out again, as his body continued to heave, still straining in ecstasy.

“You're still horny for me, aren't you?” Gohan chuckled, suddenly sitting up, leaving Mirai to tremble again.

“Al-always, M-m-master!”

Light flooded his eyes, under his lids, shocking him. He wrinkled his nose, crinkled his eyes, and then opened them with rapid blinking. He was greeted by Gohan's flushed face, close to his, and hair dripping with his semen. He blushed furiously at the smirk on his face.

“Clean me up, first.”

Obediently, the Angel tilted his head and lathed his pink tongue over a temple, both cheeks, then took the shock of hair over Gohan's forehead, saturated with semen, into his mouth, sucking it dry. Gohan's eyes closed, as he willed himself to keep perfectly still, as he felt the tongue come back, to lap up the remaining moisture over his lips, clenching his jaw against the urge to open and taste again-

I could never dream it would be this good, Gohan mused. To be loved so wholly.

“That's enough,” he gruffed, pulling back and opening his eyes. Blue adoration stared back at him, trembling, awaiting his next set of instructions.

“Ask me what I want.”

Mirai blinked again as Gohan stood up, hand on his hips, staring down at him with an unreadable expression, his erection visibly throbbing. Oh yes, Master!

“Wh-what d-do you w-want, Master?”

“I want to fuck you silly.” The cheerful voice was back, garnished with a wicked grin.

You perverse, Satanic Master, Mirai melted inside.

“I want to pull you up on my lap and make you beg like a slut for me.”

Mirai shuddered, imagining his legs thrown over his Master's shoulders, as he-

“I want to make you scream when I finally take you.”

I will, I promise.

“Get on your hands and knees. Right now!”

Mirai threw himself into the task, gripping the dirt in his gloves as his knees hit the dirt. He kept his eyes forward, as Gohan walked around him, smiling as he inspected.

“Very good. Very obedient.”

A hand came down on his head, lovingly brushing the silken hair out of his face. Mirai closed his eyes, savoring the sign of affection.

“What kind of slut are you?”

“A cheap one!”

“Very good.”

The hand cupped his cheek, and then pushed his head to the side. He heard footsteps again, and opened his eyes to see an empty space where his Master had been, and inhaled sharply as he felt the hand come back, over his back, fingers tracing the spinal indentation, sliding down the surface of his skin, until it met the stub where his tail would have been. Mirai cried out, earning a hard whack on the buttocks.

“No sound!” The Master punctuated his demand with another spank. “I don't think my hand's enough!”

Mirai's heart was in his throat as Gohan came back around, pulling him up and slapping his face. You're so kind when you're cruel, the Angel shuddered, knowing the slap was carefully gauged, to ensure no harm.

“I'm taking the gloves- now!

Gohan knelt in front of him, taking the fingertip of the leather between his teeth, glaring into the Angel's wide blue eyes, pulling his chin up slowly, as the glove slid off. He caught it in one hand and repeated the ritual with the other hand, keeping eye contact as he took the other glove in hand, then rubbed them in Mirai's face, for good measure.

“You can have them back, when I say so!”

He grabbed his jaw, forcing his mouth open, and stuffed one glove into his mouth, then stood back up, returning to his position behind Mirai, and began whipping the white leather against the rump poised high in the air for him.

"When…I say…be quiet…” Gohan growled between clenched teeth as he smacked with quick, hard precision, “You'd…better…. BE QUIET!” He began hitting the upper thighs, and with calculation whacked the fissure between his buttocks, smacking his puckered opening, for good measure. “I…bet…you…would love…to make some noise…now!

Gohan felt a sense of awe at the iron control the Angel was displaying, staying rigidly still as he thrashed away at his most vulnerable areas. You amazing, incredible Angel! He came back around, again, pulling the glove out of his mouth.

“Then…do it! Don't hold back either!”

He smacked his cheek; again, relishing the choked cry he was given, before he went back to his position.

A scream echoed through the forest, as the glove came down on his scrotum, curling Gohan's blood, feeding his lust.


Another smack, another scream. The sweetest sound I ever heard!

“You want…you want me…to fuck you there?” He gritted, pinching the skin between his anus and sack. Another scream rang out.

“YES! Pl-please! Fuck me there!”



Another smack cracked against his hip. Mirai wailed, pushing his rump up higher, as his elbows met the dirt.

“Please- what?” Gohan said softly, letting the leather linger as he waited.

“Please fuck me Master! F-fuck me ple-e-e-ease!”

“Well, alright then!” The cheerful voice was back, and the Angel nearly jumped out of his skin as he felt Gohan's mouth come down between his hips, lathing his entry with his heated tongue.

“Must be prepared…” his breath was hot against him, preternaturally sending friseurs of pleasure up his spine. Master, you are so good to me…

The Master pulled the Angel back, turning him around to straddle his thighs, as he smiled up into his flushed face.

“What kind of slut are you, Angel?”

“Yours!” Mirai choked.

“What do you want?”

Gohan spat into his hand, roughly grabbing Mirai's shaft, pumping up and down as he watched Mirai fight to steady his response.

“Show me, Angel. Show me…how much you want it…”

Mirai writhed, bringing his hands to Gohan's shoulders, grasping and choking, as the wicked fingers between his legs tortured him.

“Talk to me, Angel.”

“M-m-mast-t-ter, I-” He groaned, throwing his head back and crying out as Gohan's thumb flicked over his slit. “I want- you t-to make me- take my body- m-make me…”

“Make…you what?” Gohan groaned, licking his nipple, making Mirai cry out again in agony.

“Make m-me y-yours!”

Gohan let him slip down, grinding his hips upward, pressing their penises between their bellies, making each groan.



Gohan pulled Mirai's head down, demanding complete access as his tongue pierced through, mimicking his intent. Hands went under the Angel's knees; his legs were thrown over the Master's shoulders, as he was positioned against the steel of Gohan's shaft, their kiss never breaking. The hands came down, to press down against the hipbones, to urge the Angel down into the inferno, impaling him with a quick thrust. Gohan moaned, drinking the muted scream from Mirai's throat, wiling himself to be still, as Mirai shuddered against the pleasure and pain of his Master's new demand.


Mirai shut his eyes tight, turning his head to the side as Gohan began pumping in and out, letting his powerful thighs work like pistons against his rump, as he reamed over and over in blind instinct. His hand shot up, grasping the Angel's chin, forcing him down for a punishing kiss, as his other hand snaked between his legs, mercilessly pumping again, making Mirai jerk. Gohan was stern, refusing to stop, continuing to dominate Mirai with complete control, demanding with his hands and lips, assaulting with the steel deep in his flesh, making Mirai whine, moan and wriggle in absolute desperation, reaching for ecstasy.

“Fuck it…. that's it…” Gohan whispered against his lips, pumping viciously as he watched Mirai bite his lip and moan again. “Fuck me, Angel….”

Gohan felt the tide begin to turn, the world, in its logic, the common sense of time and space, the comfort of philosophy turn into babbling nonsense. A chorus of jumbled sounds and whirling lights that were being turned by the incandescent Angel riding him. He was a bomb, about to explode. A supernova about to set off. And the Angel kept goading him, teasing him with beauty and lust, full of come and poetry, all for him.


Mirai spilled, limbs jerking as his hair flew in the air like a fan, and his arms arched back, spreading him high.

“Oh Master! I love you Master!”

Gohan's head spun, as he fell back, losing himself deep inside the Angel, feeling paradise open it's gates, as he was reborn in heaven.


The water in the lake was soothing, cooling to the skin as they sat, several feet apart, staring at each other, with only their heads above the water. Neither had said a word afterward. They simply seemed to understand that this was what came next. As if they'd done it so many times before. Yet once they faced each other, one stared back at the other, as if he'd never seen him before.

“Well…” Gohan intoned with a foggy expression. Was that really me? He wondered, reeling at the turn of events in his mind. I knew I had a few ideas about what I liked- but I had no idea…

“Well…” Mirai nodded, looking intently over Gohan's face. Did that really happen? Mirai asked himself, staring at the blank, far away look on Gohan's face. Or is this just another dream?

“That was…” Gohan blinked, trying to find another word.

“That was my-“ Mirai looked down. “That was my first time” he looked up with a shy smile.

Gohan's face froze through his daze.

Mirai quickly looked away, flushing. “You- you don't want to talk about it -do you?”

“Wha- No!” He ran a wet hand through his hair in confusion, and then shook his head. But he was so- wait! His stomach flipped as he saw Mirai turn away. “I mean yes!” You idiot!

Gohan reprimanded himself. “I do! Stop!”

He put his hand on Mirai's slumped shoulder, willing him to turn around. He cursed his insensitivity when he saw the tears glistening in those deep blue eyes.

“I just-“ Gohan swallowed hard, “I just don't know how the proper protocol is for all this.”

“Whatever you say it is,” Mirai whispered.

So trusting, thought Gohan, as he stared at the Angel in front of him. “That-“ He pointed to the woods behind him as he continued to stare, “was your first time?

Mirai turned his head, looking back at the woods, nodding. “My first,” he repeated, simply. He turned to Gohan again, grimacing. “They say there's a first time for everything, huh?”

I wonder what he's thinking, Mirai thought in panic.

“Yeah, there is.”

Gohan took a deep breath, and forced his shaking hand to cup the Angel's trembling chin.

“For everything- and…everyone.

Mirai eyes became blue saucers. “You- you mean-“

Gohan chuckled, nodding, as a grin spread over his face.

Mirai quickly turned his head, looking back at the woods, then away, facing forward, drawing his eyebrows together, mouthing “How?”, with a confused look on his face.

“I think that's my question?” Gohan's eyebrow went up as he brought his face closer to Mirai's mugging for his attention.

Mirai's mystified expression faded, as a look of wry disbelief crossed his face. “You were- you were in charge!” A small laugh escaped his lips as he slid astounded eyes to Gohan.

“You were very…”Gohan bit his lip, blushing back at Mirai, who was beginning to grin back up at him, with a devilish gleam in his eye. “What?”

“Hey- you were about to tell me something!” Mirai playfully splashed, making Gohan hoot and dove into the water.

“Come on!” Mirai laughed. Gohan's pale skin was visible under the rippling clear surface. Mirai sent an arc of water into the air. “Hey!” He chopped at the water, again, when he caught sight of Gohan turning in the water, as he stuck his tongue out, with his thumb on his nose, wriggling his fingers. “Master!” He splashed again.

He swam behind him; Mirai whirled around, peering in the water, seeing nothing. “Master?”

Suddenly, Mirai heard water falling behind him, and felt something grab his head, shoving him under the water.

“Ma-a-ste-er!” He yelled in the water. His eyes snapped open to see Gohan smirking back at him.

They both broke the surface of the water; Gohan gasped, shoulders shaking in laughter. Mirai splashed at him again, twisting his lips wryly.


“Angel!” Gohan raked his hair back, chuckling at Mirai.

“You were saying something,” Mirai smirked. “Probably something like, Trunks, you were so damn sexy-“

Gohan rolled his eyes. “Mirai, I was so damn sexy…” and began laughing as Mirai splashed more water at him.

“Look- so we're a couple of virgins-“ Mirai began to laugh, also.

“Ex!” Gohan kicked his feet through the water, sending a splash at Mirai as he swam away. “We're not virgins, anymore!” Gohan stopped, and turned to gape at Mirai. “I thought you were with-“

“Your other self?” Mirai shook his head. “I wanted to be- but he said no.” He grimaced. “He said when I was older…” He sighed, looking down into the water. “Then you were too young again when I was old enough….” He looked up, a smile brightening his face. “Not now.”

Gohan felt his heart beat, in a strange, accelerated rhythm. “You mean you waited-“

“I never gave up faith in you, Master.” Mirai swallowed hard as he looked soulfully back at Gohan. “You said our time would come.”

“It- it did, didn't it?” Gohan said, still as stone in the water.

“It- it doesn't have to be…just one time-“ Mirai looked away, blushing furiously again.

“You mean-” Gohan swallowed hard, looking into the woods, trying to see the capsule hidden behind the trees, smiling as he caught a glint of metal between the leaves.

“Have faith, Master,” Mirai said, smiling back at Gohan.



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