I'm pissed. Royally. Doing my heritage proud, here. Stalking around like a planetary tyrant and hoping to hell the natives don't rebel. Again.

"Can't believe him…" I slam the door, rattling the frame and startling the occupant in the other room. A shaking jingle of a tagged collar is the trumpeter's sound that announces my companion and he slinks into the room warily. Sighing heavily, I drag out one of the kitchen chairs and sit. A moment passes before the cold, comforting nose presses into my palm.

"You're a strange little fucker," I accuse, powering down to a normal state and scratching his ears reflexively. He sits immediately at my curse and scoots closer to me, edging more of his head under my hand.

"Hai, hai…" Groaning, I rest my arm on the table, my head on my arm. It wouldn't be so bad if Gohan already knew. But, to ease the shock of our controversial triangle, we had decided early on that it would be a long time coming before the world knew about me.

And Tora.

That included family. Even if Tora had instigated the entire thing. We'd been fucking on and off since I was fifteen, but I hadn't even thought about my best friend sexually until I caught him with his pants around his ankles.

And Tora's mouth around his cock.

But there was something undeniably erotic about seeing the spitting image of myself fucking Goten that had stuck with me. Once the astonishment had subsided, I'd been bitten with the curiosity that only a teenager can have--and survive. From there it was only a matter of time, really, until the three of us found the nerve, privacy, and circumstances to get it on.

The fact that it had been in the empty chapel following Gohan's wedding to Videl when everyone else was partaking of the outdoor reception…

Well, that's making things just a tad bit difficult for tonight, isn't it?

There was just something so fucking magnetic about the two of them in black suits and silver cravats that were uniform for the wedding party…

I'd gotten a hard on half way through the ceremony that I was certain all of Satan City could smell. Or at least the two half-breeds that flanked me on the floral platform.

And sex in public is so fucking exciting. It'll leave you boneless, I swear.

Ouji nudges his head further in my lap, apparently deciding that my hand is better than none. "Yeah, I know what you mean…" Swearing softly again, I raise my head and glance around the kitchen. At least the bastard did the dishes before he left.

I think that would have thrown me over the edge. Caused me to go completely psychotic in a way only classic movie stars and mothers can.

I stand resignedly. Ouji's tail begins to wag. My eyes narrow.

"Oh, don't give me that. I know double teaming when I see it." He cocks his head, tail pausing mid-swish. "You're just waiting for dipshit to get home. I'm just a sorry substitute for your canine stoicism." He sniffs at my hand and licks it tentatively.

I'm such a fucking sap. Sighing, I rub beneath his chin.

"Agreed. When dumb fuck gets home with Ouja we go our separate ways." The dog eyes me keenly. "This never happened."

I've already managed to trash an entire box of angel hair pasta and, consequently, spice the sauce to hell by mistaking the salt for the sugar by the time Tora walks through the door a half an hour later. I'm canning the entire operation when Ouja, happy as a gopher in a garden to be home, races through the kitchen and dances ecstatically around my feet.

My older counterpart arches an elegant brow as he tosses his keys into the bowl by the door. I finish scraping the pasta from the bottom and close the lid to the garbage can, turning to deposit the blackened pot into the soapy sink to soak.

"So…what's for dinner?"

Glaring murderously, I brandish my wooden spoon like a weapon and rip the cordless off the wall.

"Chinese."

"Tora---shit!" Pressed agonizingly between the refrigerator and the counter, my ass propped precariously on the latter, I jerk his lips to mine again by use of his loosened tie. "We…can't…" his tongue traces the line of my jaw and bites savagely into my throat. Growling at his animalistic intent, I grasp his collar and tear, gaining a maniacal glee in watching Ouja chase the displaced buttons across the floor.

Eager hands rake down his chest, around to his back and he arches into me with a throaty moan, jerking motions anxious to free my cock by means of belt, button, and zipper.

"Sonofa…cock sucking…" He chuckles, braces a hand against the cupboard above my head, enclosing me between his hard body and the purring Maytag.

"Patience, Briefs…we can't have all the fun before Goten gets home…"

"To hell with---ah! Shit! No fair, dammit! I liked that shirt!"

"Turnabout's fair play, Trunx…"

"But you have six of those! I had this specifically designed---"

"-to be ripped off during phenomenal sex with me." His hand around my dick through my pants silences my protests.

"You…are…an insatiable little shit…"

"You'd understand that better than anyone, ne?" Periwinkle eyes glitter knowingly through his lavender flyaways and I curse him for existing. Then I laugh, threading my fingers through that satin mass.

"Expect Goten. He can go for fucking hours…"

"No shit," he nips at my throat, thrusting his leg forcefully between my knees. "Little bastard outlasts us both. Never knew a cocksucker so eager to play monkey in the middle…"

"Kami-sama, but he is great with his mouth…"

"Tight little ass…"

"And those thighs…"

"Those hands…" I have the intense feeling of déjà vu, but his persistent hands refuse the pursuit. He lengthens the rift in my shirt to a chasm and attacks my flesh in a frenzy.

"Where the fuck is he, anyway?"

My mind knows clarity for a split second.

"He's bringing Gohan---" My blood runs cold and my dick deflates like a blown tire on the freeway.

We freeze simultaneously and lock eyes. Through the tangled mass of his hair I can just make out the shadow across the floor and the frantic, welcoming jumping of my puppy.

He pulls back slowly and I rush to straighten my clothes before I'm exposed, hoping to hell this isn't as bad as it looks.

Goten's face is purple with embarrassment, outdone only by the absolute mortification on his older brother's face. The drop of his suitcase is like a gunshot and we all jump at the abrupt breach in the unnatural silence.

I swallow, my mind devoid of all thought save the instant feeling of 'fuck'.

But the knot in my stomach can't be nearly as big as the one in Gohan's. The corner of his mouth is twitching like he'd been forced to eat a bug and I wonder, briefly, if he's going to be sick on the linoleum.

Tora's the first to gain his voice.

"I wasn't aware that he was me…at the time."