I can feel it starting. That deep, warm, throbbing pull in my core that tells me my body is at its absolute peak.
My heat is here.
I don't get to choose when it happens—I just get to surrender to it. My mind gets foggy, my belly feels extra heavy, and every inch of me aches to be filled, claimed, and used until I'm completely swollen.
I'm not shy about it. I'm in heat, I'm fertile, and I'm dripping with need. I want to be kept in this pink haze, bred until I can't think straight, and watched as I grow rounder and rounder.
Don't try to calm me down. Just give me what I need. 🍼🔥
He always put his medication in the same place. The rare occasion he might move it, but this was definitely not one of those times. He was sure, anyway, mostly… but as the minutes turned into an hour and panic settled deeper into his system the more he started to doubt it.
His hormones suppressants. He couldn’t find them. He’d tore through his bathroom, checked every drawer in his kitchen. He was looking in various cabinets now, even the purely decorative ones around his living room.
Where in Angel’s name are they?!
He could feel his soul thudding against his chest plating. An audible ticking, much like the ticking of his metaphorical clock was winding down. CJ understood his systems well enough by now that he was due for a heat cycle. Checking his diagnostics again, his temp had risen ten degrees already. Likely because he’d been panicking and rummaging for the last hour, but it still worried him.
He sat there for a few moments amongst his disheveled condo. Thinking. Questioning. Debating. Was he overreacting? Maybe he could last the night at least, and get a new prescription in the morning. He could already feel the coolant pricking at his eyes, wanting to mitigate his warmth. He could push through this… He breathes inward, slowly pushing the air out his vents. Again. A third time…
He could feel the warmth ease a slight bit with the executed circulation. Just panic… nothing more.
He clenches his hands tightly before standing. Making one final pass around the various rooms, it’s fairly confirmed they are simply not here. It’s fine! It’s fine… just… just one evening!
Within the hour he was heading back down into the casino. Greeting guests as they filtered in. Checking in with employees to make sure they were where they were meant to be. Everything was lining up as it always did, and his anxiety lessened as he got into the habit of his usual routine.
It had barely been three hours before things started turning a different direction. Only the early evening and he could feel himself growing increasingly short with troublesome customers, and one in particular really wanted to keep bothering him.
“And another thing, that man—“ The program points in the vague direction of one of his employees. “He did NOT refund my drink. That HE ruined! How am I suppose to have—“
Chipjack clenched his croupier stick a bit too hard, the metal creaking under his fingers. Threatening to bend as the pressure gradually climbed. The words weren’t even coming through to him anymore, it was fading into the cacophony of noise all around them. His expression was growing tighter as a high whirr, drowned by the noise, began rattling his systems.
Then the customer made a mistake, for both of them.
They touched him.
WHAP.
The customer recoiled with a shriek, more from shock than anything when CJ firmly smacked their hand with the end of his croupier. They were left without words as his snarl was no longer politely hidden. He only needed to speak once.
“Get the hell out.”
A few curious gazes nearby tilted their direction as a mild tension hung in the air. He didn’t truly register his growth in height aside from the wider distance they now had between one another, the customer staring up at him with an increasing terror. Once an ounce of hesitation left them, he scuttled off and ran. Practically pushing between crowds along the way.
Chipjack’s chest was still heaving as he glared after their retreating form. Completely enveloped within his anger when suddenly something broke through to him.
“Jack?” The gentle touch on his arm sent him reeling back into reality, the loud environment returning to his attention. A frequency he recognized. Aurora, so named for the way her body gently shimmered and faded between a mixture of colors. Another Addison that had worked under him since before he even went to TV World. He’d only become aware of his change in size when he realized she barely came up to his elbow. Her careful yet firm gaze fixated upon him. “You’ve bent it.”
He released a tension he hadn’t realized he was holding in until she’d spoken. He looks down, hands relaxing slightly to reveal his croupier stick had been tweaked at an angle from what he could only assume was an iron hard grip. This thing was made to accommodate for his natural strength.
His shoulders vented a tense hiss of steam.
“… Did… I hit them that hard?” Oh, angels. This could be a PR nightmare if true. Assuming the program was even someone to worry about, he had been so transfixed on his emotions he didn’t fully register who they were.
Aurora gently tugs on his arm, leading him away from the table. A plugboy rushes in behind them to quickly cover the spot, jazzing it up with new customers to steer their attention away from whatever the hell just happened. He follows her to one of the back rooms away from public eye.
“What’s going on? You don’t usually get that angry over such a small thing.” She crosses her arms as she leans back against a counter. Only to stand upright again to go fetch a drink from him at the visibly shaken expression he’s adopted.
“Did I—“ he goes to repeat, but she silences him immediately as she’s handing him the glass.
“No, you just gripped it too hard.” She goes back to her previous spot and sighs, gesturing. “I’m sure they’ll be fine.”
CJ looks at the glass that’s been practically pushed into his hands. Just some water. He lifts it, but then pauses before it comes at level with his chin.
“I…” He goes quiet for a brief moment before he drinks down the contents. Swallowing alone confirmed his own suspicions, as the drink went down hot without an ounce of cold relief. From the curious stare on Aurora’s expression, she seemed to also notice.
His chest patters again as his claws squeak against the glass.
“Aurora. Do you have any…” He pauses. “… Suppressants?”
She chuckles, initially confusing his question. “Of course not, I’m not…” The realization strikes her as her humor turns concern. “Oh Jack. Did you misplace them?”
“I don’t know. I usually…” he chokes up slightly. He was definitely getting warmer. His normally comfortable jacket was feeling too taught. Too warm. He swallows thickly. “I-I couldn’t find them.”
Aurora quickly fetches the glass from his hands before he has a chance to shatter it. His claws quickly clench into his palm.
“You need to call Swatch immediately.” A tone most might consider sharp but he understood it was with care. As she turns back to him, her gaze tips further upward. “Can you shrink?”
He almost didn’t register the question as the panic had re-familiarized itself with him. His systems were already overworking. Damned to having this upgraded body, it was working much faster than he was use to in getting his cycle going. He coughs, doubling over to cover it with his arm. High pressured steam shoots out the back of his shoulders. Aurora approaches, wanting to help ground him. Her concerned hands hovering in front of him in expectation that he might fall. But he remains upright.
“No…” he answers finally, feeling his throat tighten. Feelings were building in his abdominal cavity. A gentle pressure. He’d felt it earlier. It was far less ignorable now. His chassis rattles audibly as a shiver runs through him. “Aurora what if I…”
She was already pulling up her phone app quickly scrolling through her known numbers. She eases a bit closer and carefully touches his arm again to help ground him as her phone chimed. “You’re not going to go feral down here. We’ll get you— Swatch?”
“What’s going on? Mister Spamton’s readings are abnormal.” His curt voice came through without hesitation. Aurora rolls her shoulders.
“Yeah well. That’s exactly why we’re calling.” She shifts the projected video view over to Chipjack, who was now adjusting to squat and sit himself down. “Jack says he can’t find his meds, and well…” She lifts up her opposite wrist, Chipjack gently touching it to allow her to see his diagnostics. “He’s already at 70 celsius, and he’s only been at tables tonight.”
There was a brief pause. “You must find—“
“I already LOOKED everywhere!!” Chipjack snarled, louder than he intended. His breathing was picking up, causing him to curl inward on himself. Clawing through his feathery hair. “Twice. Three times. I can’t find them…”
He lets out a shaky, hesitant breath.
“Can Yellow get me any supplementaries?” He hated having to resort to her of all programs, but this was desperate.
“Yellow is not available, she is out of network at a medical conference. We don’t have anyone available at this hour, nor do we have enough time to wait. I am pinging TIREU immediately. Aurora, do you feel safe enough to get him quarantined?”
The Addison looks over to Chipjack again. She can practically feel the heat beginning to wave off of him. She reaches over, hesitantly touching him. He doesn’t immediately react.
“Yeah I can… lock him in.”
“Alright. Get him secured. I will ping you when TIREU is close.”
“Understood.”
♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡
End of Part 1 because I needta go to BED!
I would also like to gauge interest to see if this should continue to let me know? :’)
No matter how diluted the blood ran, some sort of heightened lust would always course through a Saiyans blood stream every other season, running a periodic course of spring and fall.
With four half bloods on the prowl, you can only imagine how they would cope with it.
Gohan is the only who has a decent escape, studying as a mental distraction and Videl offered to help with a psychical escape.
Bulla brushes everything off, the heat constantly gathering in her loins ignored, how she did that was beyond the others.
Goten did what he always did to deal with emotions or problems, video gaming and training, hanging around someone was to risky.
Trunks had it the worst, why?
He wasn't sure, he could've blamed it on the royal blood flowing in his veins, but his sister was unaffected by their royal descent.
Everyday Trunks would hole himself up in his room, leaving for few things and reasons, alluring pheromones sinking into porous materials as time passed, he feared when people would enter his room eventually as the scent sticks to everything.
He found himself sprawled across the couch, one arm and one leg on the backrest with the other leg hanging off the armrest and other arm draped over the edge, drenched in sweat despite the thunder that cracked outside, he was practically boiling in his own skin.
The door was flung open, he couldn't hear the sound through the fans, or the footsteps, he didn't even realize people where in the same room as he was until he opened his eyes finding the glaring gazes of the Son descent.
Trunks froze, he should've known better than to dare leave his room, without a shirt, even having a tank top on would make this better, the two half bloods gazes glued to his chiseled physique, a distinct heat rose to his face.
All three stayed silent, eye contact unbreaking and colder than ice, Gohan was first to crack under the pressure, making a dumb excuse to leave the room as the tension grew thicker by the second, he could never handle tension very well, crumbling in mere seconds.
Neither of two left could get out a syllable, Trunks opened to his mouth to try and speak, the words dying in his throat, his friends eyes raking across his form.
"I know I've seen you glistening with sweat before, but during this stupid cycle, it really puts how good you look under a new light," Goten said, voice smooth and unbreaking, no hesitation laced the words he spoke with supreme confidence, Trunks felt his mind start to liquify more than the heat had already done to him at how firm his friends voice was. "And that heavenly scent, delectable, shame I can't discover it's origins." The half bloods tail flicked slightly as the words rolled off of his tongue, a once unknown passion seeping into each syllable.
Trunks couldn't form a counter statement, shuffling to close his legs again and force himself into a sitting position, oh how he wished he brought a shirt with him. His mind started to crowd with thoughts, covered in a fog of lust, triggered mainly by the heat cycle.
Father told him his thoughts might start to crowd, find a safe place, an empty place, just you and you alone and everything will clear in due time, he never specified the exact time, but it was good plan.
"I, I have to go." Was all Trunks managed to produce as a reason to leave before fleeing to his room, when he pulled open the door, a heavy waft of pheromones hit him and flooded the hallway, he could just barely smell them, but he knew they would attract unwanted attention the second they hit someones range of scent, he slammed the door shut behind him.
His room lit only by the occasional fractures of lightning the sky, his breathing started to hasten, he saw his friend stepping closer with every break of darkness, slowly getting closer, lust the only thing known in obsidian eyes.
Trunks just wanted to to curl up in a ball and fucking die.
He wasn't supposed to end up like this, he knew his future, sure it was different, but he's supposed to end up with Mai, but the thought, the thought alone repulsed him every time he was with Goten.
He never noticed the changes in their actions and demeanors as time passed. What was once friendly hugs had slowly morphed to lingering touches, playing with hemming of clothes, and their short awkward eye contact had turned to longing.
He was confused.
He was lost.
He wanted a kiss.
He wanted to be touched, not even sexually.
He just wanted some sort of psychical contact other than fist to fist.
He was so deprived and withdrawn.
He didn't know what he needed, he didn't know what he wanted.
Trunks found himself aimlessly scouring his room for something, he didn't know what he was in search of but that didn't stop him. He uprooted carpets and nearly tore apart closets till he found what he was looking for.
A backpack, green and simple in design.
Something about it called to him, he tore open the fabric finding it was Gotens, he jumped back in repulse at what he had done.
Why?
Why was he so addicting?
Trunks had nearly flipped his floorboards over to find something of his friends just for a whiff of the intoxicating scent.
Tears welled up in his sky blue eyes as he leaned against his bed, he muttered incomprehensible strings of syllables under his breath as he stared at the torn up bag, a T-shirt on top of the pile of shredded fabrics.
He needed it.
He needed just one smell and he would be satisfied.
He found himself in front of the bag, T-shirt brought up to his face, taking deep inhales, the scent soothing frayed nerves and tearing them apart twice as fast when he realized what was happening.
He was supposed to find a nice girl, Mai, settle down, have kids and take over Capsule Corp.
And yet he can't see anything even remotely like that in his future.
He needed guidance.
Desperately.
He was so close to blowing up a mountain just to feel something other than what he was feeling constantly now.
He couldn't even muster enough dignity to pull himself onto his bed before he fell asleep, beyond confused and stuck in a state of lust.
---
His dreams did nothing to help his case, all blurred and unable to recall when he woke up, he knew someone else was with him.
Not Mai, definitely not her.
She was the least of his worries, he was to busy trying to compress the confusion and unwanted emotions into a small cube he could bury with responsibilities and ignore forever.
Trunks found himself pulling on new clothes again in the almost robotic pattern he had created over the weeks whenever he was in heat, 'give up on life' pants and a tank top, he sighed when he pushed open the door, finding Goten still asleep and pressed against the wooden plank who woke up at the sudden movement.
Trunks went to slam the door shut again, thoughts crowding his mind at the sight of his friends half asleep and still partially dazed state, to cute for Trunks to handle, Goten still held the door open.
"What?" Trunks asked, voice more bitter than he had hoped, he saw the slight dip in Gotens expression at the tone, he didn't mean to sound so sour.
"I just wanted to say I'm sorry for what I said yesterday, I shouldn't've said what I did, it just fell out of me." Goten said, a distinct heat rising to his face, Trunks tried to steady his breathing.
"It's, it's fine, I'm gonna go train, maybe blow up a mountain or two." Trunks said before pushing past Goten, pace picking up slightly after reaching the stairs, hitting a full on sprint by the time he was on the ground floor, shooting off from the pavement after he barrelled out the front door with enough force to crack the ground.
He didn't care.
He just wanted to leave behind his emotions.
But they chased him as he flew across the sky, busting through clouds and playing with the atmosphere.
He found himself in a clearing before he knew what happened, he was on the ground which shocked him the most.
He just wanted to break down in the grassy clearing, surrounded by mountains.
"I'm not, I'm not," Trunks tried to force out, sobbing as he did so, he didn't realize he started to cry until he was. "I'm not supposed to be in love with my best friend, he's just a friend, I think, maybe, he would hate me if I did love him, do I love him? I don't know."
He couldn't help but talk to himself.
Two voices played out as he conversed through choked sobs and stifled cries.
His own and his minds.
One forcing him to stay rational and trying to protect him from pain, the other clouded and in search of truth and carnal craving.
He couldn't bear to admit to whatever feelings brewed twice a year and stagnated before leaping again, climbing up the ranks before delving back into the depths of his mind completely until he found himself clouded with lust once more.
He screamed, pressing his hands against his ears to try and silence the voice before launching himself back into the air, leaving a crater where he once was, he clenched his eyes shut before lowering his hands from his head and charging a blast, he could feel the chi course through his body and build up at his palm.
"I don't fucking know!" He shouted to no one except himself before shooting off the blast to one of the mountains, hearing cracks and shifts as dust clouded the area, mountain slowly crumbling to pieces at his attack, his breathing heavy as he stared at the damage he caused.
He didn't mean to do that.
He was joking when he considered blowing up a mountain to cope.
He's already turning into his father.
Maybe Vegeta blew up mountains to cope with something similar.
Trunks would believe that for now to help him feel better about what he had done.
Goku and Vegeta were also Saiyans so they also go through heat cycles, right?
He's overthinking things again.
He tried to steady his breathing and clear his thoughts again.
He couldn't.
The dam had broken and he was stuck riding the wave all the way through.
He found himself floating to the ground, buckling to his knees, arms limp at his side as he tried, as he tried his hardest to hold onto any shred of what he needed to do for the sake of the ideal future for the family needed.
He didn't want to be with Mai.
Who was he kidding?
He wanted to be with Goten, but he couldn't be.
Something was stopping him.
He just couldn't place his finger on it.
Like something was on the tip of his tongue and he couldn't spit it out.
He found himself bawling his eyes out on his hands and knees before he knew it, choking on each breath and word he forced past his lips.
He was lost.
Even if he could bring up whatever he felt with someone, he couldn't go through with it, he would crack under pressure of not wanting to say the wrong thing, of not wanting to disappoint someone, anyone.
He wanted, what did he want?
Comfort.
He needed comfort, he craved comfort, desperately.
From Goten.
It had to be from Goten.
It could be from anyone.
He pulled himself to his feet again and forced himself into the air, trembling, he had no psychical wounds lacing his body, but he would burnt out for days after going through so much and so little at once.
He just wanted to be released from the chains.
The burning chains, a molten orange when they appeared in his dreams, the only thing discernable in the fog.
He floated across the sky, his pace steady and slow, he would be late to come home.
He didn't care.
He was to tired to care if anyone took him on the streets.
He felt like a wounded animal, limping to a secluded area, craving to die alone as he bled out.
He reentered through his window, falling onto his bed with a sigh.
"What's wrong with me?"
---
"Dad?"
"What, can't you see I'm busy?"
"Bulla needs the talk."
"Don't they teach kids anything?"
"The Saiyin talk."
"I'll talk to her later."
"Also, I kind of, well, I, uh."
"Spit it out, boy, I don't have all day."
"Is it wrong for a guy to romantically like another guy, I don't really see it in media often, so I'm not exactly sure if it's ok."
"Gays in the Saiyan race were higher than one would imagine, given the female male birth ratio."
"So, is it ok?"
"Yeah, sure, you should ask your mother, she knows more about romance than I do."
The conversation, having been archived, resurfaced in Trunks dream, he had no clue whether or not it actually happened, but he had nowhere else to turn for guidance at this point and Vegeta would know best about this stupid Saiyan heat cycle.
The half blood found himself at the door of the gravity chamber, he could hear screaming from inside, fear starting to build up at the power emanating from within.
No.
To late to pussy out now.
Not even the fact he was still giving off pheromones like a bitch in heat, which he was, would deter him considering how close he was to trying to attain more knowledge about his biology that humans had no records on.
A part of him that still was twisted with fear knocked first, the sounds stopped before the door was opened, Vegeta was in perfect condition with a thin veneer of sweat as always, nothing out of ordinary, although he looked a bit more fed up than usual.
"What is it?" The full blood asked, voice harsh and sharp on Trunks ears who flinched slightly, he didn't show the the slight tremble, but he was starting to get cold feet about his plan.
"Sparring, now." Trunks stated, pushing past Vegeta who scoffed at his sons choice of actions before closing the door again, snapping into god with ease before Trunks snapped into two.
They met each other blow for blow, fists colliding with fists each time and kicks deflected and dodged like they had done this a thousand times.
Trunks wasn't satisfied.
He wasn't feeling anything.
He wanted to be attacked.
He needed to feel that specific pain.
The sparks that flied through his body when a chi blast charred skin, the sudden bruising when a fist landed against his skin, the rush of blood as it spills from an opening.
He craved it and couldn't even understand why.
"Stop going easy on me!" Trunks snapped, Vegeta scoffed before leveling up again to blue, his pace already hastening and attacks already gaining ferocity and carnality.
"Then you should level up!" Vegeta snapped back, Trunks felt a twinge of pain right in the feels, he should've known better, he should've known Vegeta would never accept him.
He should've known.
What kind of royalty would want a gay son?
None of them, not even the conversation in his dream could convince him otherwise.
It must've been a cruel trick his mind played on him to fool him into thinking anyone would love him.
Trunks was already starting to lose his touch, distracted by whatever thoughts clouded his mind, a wave of heat swamping his body out of nowhere, he was slammed into a wall before he knew it.
"Spit it out, you never want to spar without ulterior motives." Vegeta said raising a fist to Trunks chest, chi starting to charge into a blast that would kill for sure, he doubted he would ever kill his son, but pressure always helped Trunks spit out whatever was on his mind.
"Tell me more," Trunks stated simply, voice still tense. "I'm so confused, and I don't know enough about this stupid Saiyan biology to try and guide myself through it."
"What do you want to know?" Vegeta asked, lowering his hand from Trunks chest who fell from the wall, landing on his hands and knees, tongues of fire flickering against his skin, the barely enhanced gravity did little to help his case.
"Can the heat cycle, can it unearth thoughts and emotions buried and ignored, can it change how Saiyans view their future, what can it do to us, to any Saiyan?" Trunks asked, words slipping from between his lips the second they formed in his head, no time to think before speaking, he pulled himself to his feet, body aching from being slammed into a wall.
"It can do a lot of things to Saiyans, if your questioning everything because of it, I would need to know more about your situation to help." Vegeta stated before falling from the heightened level, hair shortening slightly and fading out to black once more.
"I'm supposed to end up with Mai, future me said so all those years ago, but now? I don't know if I can give our family the right future, hell I don't even want to end up with Mai, the thought makes me feel sick to the stomach." Trunks tried to explain whatever was flying around in his head, words caught in his throat occasionally as he did so.
"Then who is it?" Vegeta asked, voice grim, Trunks dropped from his heightened form, words caught in his throat before he managed to find a decent answer to such a simple yet demanding question.
"What?" Was all he managed to get out in the slight shock.
"Which one of Kakarots brats is making you stray from the 'desired future' and towards your desired future," Vegeta explained, scoffing at his sons obliviousness, a distinct heat rose to the half bloods face. "Spit it out before I make you."
"Goten." Trunks blurted out, he felt a part of him die, a different part cheering as the name rolled off his tongue.
Actually admitting his feelings?
Hell yeah.
His lust addled mind that only wanted fulfill instinctual cravings was happy as fuck at this.
Whatever sense of dignity and common sense was trying to kill him from the inside out mentally.
"Of course it's the dumb one," Vegeta muttered under his breath, sighing as he did so, he had a pretty good idea it was Goten, but a part of him wished it wasn't. "Just, don't try and push down whatevers going on in your head about the brat, it only makes things harder the next time they resurface."
"Yeah, but, I can't get him off of mind, he's so distracting, intoxicating even, I can't get enough of him," Trunks stated, stumbling over his words as he did so, he had a hard time believing so much was spilling from his lips to his father. "I can't give the family what it needs if I'm busy daydreaming about my best friend, and confessing? Fuck no, that feels like, a hundred years away from my current abilities."
"Him being your best friend should make it easier to confess." Vegeta said, Trunks sighed.
"Look, say you were in love with Goku." Trunks started, he paused while Vegeta tried to comprehend what his son had offered as a possibility.
"Disgusting." Was all that Vegeta could produce at the mere idea.
"Listen, if you were hypothetically in love with Goku, it would be harder to confess at the risk of losing the relationship that took years upon years to create between the two of you, all of that hard work gone in seconds," Trunks explained, Vegeta was still disgusted at the idea, but could vaguely understand what his son was conveying. "That's what I'm afraid of, losing everything."
"I understand." Vegeta hacked up, the words made him feel putrid.
"Your lying." Trunks said with a sigh.
"To make you feel better." Vegeta said before going to leave Trunks alone with his thoughts.
"It didn't work!" Trunks called out, he heard a distant 'I can fucking tell!' he smiled a bit, before a surge of red hot pain tore through him, he clenched his gut, the uncomfortable sensation originating from the twisting innards.
He found himself sitting on the couch in the living room again, he didn't want to be out there, but he couldn't bring himself to crawl up the stairs and pass by Gotens room, the spare room that he often bunked in.
Pheromones emanated from the room despite how tightly shut each door and window was locked, Goten was practically marinating in his own sweat and smells at this point.
Trunks found himself at Gotens door, fist clenched and centimeters away from knocking, he tensed when he realized what he was going to do.
What was he thinking?
He just emptied his chest of the weights pulling him down and here he was, ready to add on twice as much if he failed to convey what he felt properly.
He bolted when he saw the doorknob turn ever so slightly, locking himself in his ruined room, still a complete and utter mess from when he uprooted everything to find a single shirt.
He was ashamed of himself for doing so, but couldn't resist but reach for the shirt on the ground.
"I'm such a fool." Trunks said, voice feeble and cracking slightly as he pulled the shirt to his face again, scent intoxication and soothing.
He fell onto his bed, sheets fluffing beneath him as he sprawled out on the mattress, heat quickly gathering on the skin pressed against the mattress, and his clothing.
The fabric scratched against his skin and left a burn in place that resided just under the skin.
Was this how lobsters felt as they were boiled?
He wouldn't be shocked if it was.
He flicked on a fan to try and remove any of the boiling under his skin, only getting a faint breeze whisking away any of the burning on his skin, any heat underneath left untouched by the almost relaxing breeze.
"I'm a failure."
---
Trunks found himself at Gotens door the next morning, or was it nighttime?
He woke up frigid, and covered in a thin veneer of sweat.
He knocked on the door a few times, knowing he would get no response, to his surprise the door was opened as quietly as possibly.
Goten was still half asleep, he rubbed his eyes gently, yawning a bit, Trunks was overwhelmed, he pushed down the emotions even deeper.
"Bro, it's the middle of the fucking night." Goten said, almost exasperated at his friend, his dreams calm for once and cooling the burning in his loins, the heat already started to rise up under his skin again.
"I know." Trunks said, reaching to rub the back of his neck, voice softer than normal, all the edge he normally had missing and replaced with something else, stress and worry shot off in Gotens head.
"What's wrong bro, somethings wrong, tell me what's wrong, please tell me what's wrong." Goten said, words falling out of his mouth as he placed his hands on Trunks shoulder, worry digging deep into the depths of his mind and clawing at the last parts that weren't clouded with lust and confusion.
Trunks rarely used that tone, even when he was near death, he would never dare use it if he could pull through.
The tone indicated, what did it indicate again?
Goten couldn't remember as it had been years since he last heard Trunks voice contort in such a way.
He just knew it wasn't good.
"Just been feeling a lot of feelings lately, can I talk to you?" Trunks asked, Goten ushered in the other half blood with ease and worry despite the silence.
"Of course you can bro, what's got you feeling the feels?" Goten asked, taking a seat on blowup mattress, Trunks sitting beside him, the mattress below creaking slightly.
"I don't know the best way to say what's got me feeling the feels." Trunks said, gesturing with his hands a bit, unable to choke out the truth.
"Just try and force it out." Goten said, Trunks had to take a few deep breaths before clenching and unclenching his fists a few times to sooth his fraying nerves.
"I don't know the best way to say that it's... You, Son Goten." Trunks choked out, Goten was unresponsive at the answer, Trunks took that as a bad thing.
"Can you describe the feels?" Goten asked, heat under his skin growing, burning hotter than normal, to much at once for him to handle, he felt a little dazed from the heat.
He couldn't take it.
He was so close to his best friend.
He was so close to what he wanted.
He wasn't supposed to be so confused.
They were just friends.
Nothing more.
But he wanted more.
He wanted every last drop and more.
He wanted attention and touches.
He couldn't have what he wanted.
"Not exactly romantic, or platonic, but at the same time it's both and its sexual, but not sexual, its nothing and everything at the same time, I don't fucking know man." Trunks said before leaning on Goten, the chills under his skin being relieved at the slight contact, the heat emanating from Goten helping.
"I think it's called Alterous," Goten said, the sane part of his mind wanting to push Trunks away, but the part addled with lust wanted to pull him closer. "And, I'd say that's fine."
Closer.
So much closer.
He needed it.
"Yeah, but I have to end up with Mai, for the best of the family." Trunks said, he felt his stomach contort when he spoke her name.
"Does your future with Mai look good, how does it make you feel?" Goten asked, Trunks went cold, everything stopped for a second.
He felt nauseous whenever he saw her in his future.
When he thought about ending up with Mai, he saw his family happy but he was miserable, but he would have to suck it up and put on a happy face for his familys success, have a few kids to ensure the bloodline doesn't die either.
He could feel tears start to gather at the corners of his eyes as he thought of it.
Why?
Why did that future seem so putrid to him?
It used to seem like a perfect future.
"You don't have to keep talking if you don't want to." Goten said, rubbing Trunks shoulders to try and calm him down a bit, the half bloods tail fluffed up.
"It just feels so putrid, I don't know why, it used to be perfect," Trunks said, choking on his words as he sobbed them out, his mind was clouded again, he could see red in his futures with Mai, he didn't even know what it meant but he knew he should avoid it. "You know, settle down, have some kids, satisfy the family, don't let the bloodline fucking die and I would be done and fulfilled with life, it sounds so hollow."
"What do you want in your future?" Goten asked, Trunks couldn't form an answer, he didn't know.
He thought it was crystal clear when the carnal need for Goten started to form.
But he didn't know.
There were to many paths that his future could take and he didn't know which one he wanted.
He just wanted to feel alive and happy, instead of whatever he was feeling now.
He only gripped to one future that seemed ideal, yet his grip slipped with every passing second.
Goten, Goten was in that future.
And they were happy.
Trunks knew better by now.
If he wanted to satisfy his family, sacrifices had to be made.
His mental wellbeing and his future would be what he sacrificed, what Future Trunks fought for would be sacrificed.
He would be failing himself double time, he would be failing his present self and Future Trunks who fought for everyones futures.
Their happy futures.
"I don't fucking know! I just want to be happy, but all the futures I can take to satisfy my family lead to me sacrificing my mental wellbeing!" Trunks wailed out, he couldn't just hold it in anymore.
He was so vulnerable like this.
He leaned against his best friend and started sobbing.
"And I'm failing Future Trunks to, I'm fucking myself over twice at once so I can make my family happy! It sure does suck to be Saiyan royalty!" He wailed out again, some twisted form of hysteria seeping into his sleep deprived voice as he forced himself against Goten a bit more, the half blood wrapping an arm around his friend gingerly, skin cool to the touch but warming at the contact.
"Do any of them make you happy, any of them, not just the ones that make your family happy?" Goten asked, Trunks found himself stifling his crying as he tried to calm himself down enough to get out an answer without breaking down anymore than he already had.
"Yeah, but, I don't think there possible even in the slightest, nobody would even want me to follow those futures," Trunks said, dragging his knees to his chest in an attempt to protect himself from nothing and everything, an instinct. "I'm the only who benefits from them, no one else does, I would be failing everyone if I tried to follow any of those few futures that make me happy, sure, I wouldn't be failing myself, but what does that matter?"
"Of course it matters." Goten said, rubbing his friends shoulder.
"Yeah, I guess so, but what are the chances of you ending up in my future, your into girls and I'm a guy." Trunks said with a sigh and weak laugh, he didn't even feel ashamed to let the words slip from his mouth, cat was already half out of the bag, Goten was silent, a distinct heat rising to his cheeks.
"Well, I had no fucking clue I was in your happy futures, if I did, uh, I'm not sure actually, but it might be different." Goten said.
"Your in all of them, each and every happy future I can see, your there at my side, smiling, no matter where we are, your happy and I am to, I don't even know why," Trunks said, words spilling out and slurring slightly due to the pace they fell from between his lips, Goten caught all of it, his mind frazzled before sifting through the new information in his head that still fogged with lust, but he cleared out most of the cravings. "I just can't be happy in my futures without someone sacrificing something, and vice versa, everything that I want, I can't have without costing someone something."
"Well, I don't have anything to sacrifice to make your ideal future a reality," Goten said, voice smoothing, hoping desperately Trunks would catch what he meant. "Besides both of us being happy doesn't sound like much of a sacrifice anyways."
"Easy for you to say, neither of your parents would put you through and hell and back if you changed your mind on what you want in your future." Trunks said, Bulma would flip her lid if her baby boy changed his mind on what he wanted in his future.
He was twenty, he deserved to make his own choices for his future.
Bulma, loving as she was and meaning the best with everything she did, wasn't always the best with her choices.
Whatever made her think arranging a marriage for her son with Mai was the right choice was wrong.
But, Trunks could do nothing about it.
He was chained up by a ring he would soon wear.
He clenched his fists, he could see the molten chains again, leading to wherever Mai was.
"Have you tried talking to her?" Goten asked, Trunks sighed.
"Bro, I just came to terms with this yesterday, you think I found time to light the fuse and wait for the explosion?" Trunks asked, smirking slightly at how oblivious his friend was, Goten felt embarrassment course through his veins.
"Right, right, when do you want to tell her?" Goten asked, Trunks felt ice shoot down his spine and cause his tail to fluff up even more, fur standing on end.
"Before the end of summer, that's when the wedding goes down." Trunks said, voice bitter as the second half of his sentence rolled off of his tongue, shock set into Gotens being.
"Wedding?" Was all Goten managed to choke out in his state of shock, Trunks nodded.
"Mom set me up with Mai last year, I wasn't allowed to tell anyone cause it would ruin the surprise, not even you, my best friend in all of the fucking universes," Trunks explained, tearing up again, agitation evident in his wavering voice. "The only problem is I don't want to be with Mai now, I don't want a hollow shell of a life."
"Then you should talk to Bulma soon, save Mai for afterwards." Goten said, instinctually wrapping his tail around Trunks, something deeply rooted in his the depths of his mind forcing him to do so as a comfort method.
"I don't want to, I'm just gonna suck it up live out the ideal future for my family." Trunks said wrapping his arms around his knees and burying his head in his arms, ready to curl up and die.
"Why don't you want to talk to Bulma?" Goten asked, voice firm, but still with an air of comfort.
"I don't want to be a failure, you and I both know I was a mistake from mom and dads experimental sexytimes, I can't let myself drop to a failure as well," Trunks choked out, fabricated lies blended with truths doing nothing to prevent him from letting his heart spill. "I'm scared Goten, what if she get's mad at me? What if she stops loving me? What if she kicks me out?"
"Hey, hey, I'm sure she won't kick you out, she only wants you to be happy, but she can't help unless you tell her." Goten said, pulling his friend closer who curled in on the half blood, tears still streaking huis face and the slowing streams started to pick up production again.
"She's a powder keg ready to blow with one spark, don't act like you haven't seen her recently, if I say one thing to spark anger for a single second I'll be a failure forever." Trunks stifled out, he didn't want to fail, he didn't want to be a stain on the family name.
He was Saiyan royalty for the love of Kami, he should have perfect control of his emotions.
His power and weakness, his emotions.
His outbursts and breakdowns.
He couldn't control them anymore, he didn't want to control them anymore.
He wanted them to tax his body to the point of death now.
Anything to escape his broken future.
He was so tired of everything and just wanted to escape.
But he couldn't he had expectations he wanted to ignore.
"I know bro, but you have to eventually if you want to drop the weights on your shoulders." Goten said, gently running a hand through Trunks lavender hair, Trunks sniffled a bit.
Goten was right.
Trunks hated that he was right.
But he was right.
Trunks would have to come clean in a few months before it was to late.
He couldn't hold up this taxing charade forever, he would be dead if he did.
From the emotional outbursts and breakdowns or training himself to a hollow shell of himself.
He wasn't sure now, but he didn't want to learn.
"Your right."
---
The two halflings walked aimlessly down the streets of west city, making their back to Capsule Corp, both still in heat, but no one dared to even look in their direction due to the threatening scent Goten gave off, he didn't even notice.
Trunks was shaky as they slowly got closer, his mom had the day off, now was his only decent chance of explaining what he wanted, yet he was still quaking in his boots.
Goten was a lot less shaky and more confident and hopeful of talking to Bulma not ending up a flaming dumpster, but still shared the stress of his friend, were they still friends?
Yeah, friends fall asleep crying in each others arms, two heterosexual men fall asleep crying in each others arms, totally normal.
"Your sure she won't try and kill me?" Trunks asked, they stood at the door, Gotens hand lingering on Trunks.
"I'm sure, now get in there and make a point!" Goten said with cockiness before swinging open the door and shoving in Trunks, his tail puffed up.
He found his breathing hasten with every step he took to the kitchen where his mother resided.
His gait was shaky and unstable.
He had to breath.
He tried to breath but couldn't steady himself.
He found himself at the door, heartrate higher than he would like.
He looked past the door finding his mother sitting at the table with papers scattered across the wood, a pen in her hand with a mug of coffee beside the paper she was furiously writing on.
Trunks knocked on the door frame, Bulma shot up from her papers, she looked frazzled.
"Good, your here, I have a good news and bad news," Bulma said, giving Trunks no time to speak his mind as she began to rattle off reasons, they blurred together in his head. "And I've managed to move your wedding to a sooner date."
"About that," Trunks started, his voice was dripping with fear as his mother looked up. "I was wondering if you could take down the wedding, I changed my mind about Mai, a future with her is kind of hollow now that I've had time to think."
"I can try, but the chances of me being able to are low as I just finished off the last of the paperwork, I can talk to Mai." Bulma said before starting to sift through the papers once more, Trunks was shocked.
"Your not mad?" He asked ginger, stepping closer to the table and pulling up a seat across from Bulma.
"No, why would I be, your my son and deserve a say in things, and I love you, I'm just agitated you didn't say so sooner," Bulma explained, pulling a partially coffee stained paper from a pile. "Mai is gonna be the one whose mad if anything."
"So, if you can't take down the wedding I'm still getting married right?" Trunks asked, absentmindedly gripping his tail, fur soft to the touch, he felt no pain despite how tight his grip was.
"Unless you can find someone else to marry, your still getting hitched with Mai." Bulma said, finishing off a signature on a paper.
"Uh, actually, I do have someone in mind." Trunks started, he could feel nervousness dripping into his voice and gripping his heart.
Could he really do this?
The last few days had already been so, eventful.
He was so close to finally closing off all the ties from a red marked future with Mai.
He had to cut the last string.
He needs to.
"Who might that be?" Bulma asked, raising a brow and reflexively reaching for her mug after sliding the coffee stained paper out of the way and pulling a pink one into view.
"One of the ones that you've met already," Trunks stated, sounded a lot better in his head before it fell out, he groaned and almost reluctantly banged his head against the table, papers shifting. "That wasn't supposed to sound so stupid."
"One of Gokus boys?" Bulma asked, Trunks gave a muffled 'Yes' before raising his head off the table, face singed with red, felt like fire under his skin, he hated that reflex, he knew it would grow in eventually but he still despised it.
"Which one is it?"
Trunks felt the words die in his throat as he tried to cough them up.
It was so much easier to drop after having the shit beat out of him, with his jaws slack and mind frazzled.
He raked his head for the right words, he tugged on his hair a bit.
He would just have to say it.
He found himself forcing up the syllables.
Bulma was patient.
"Goten, it's Goten." Trunks got out, Bulma smirked, she had an idea it would be Goten, she had noticed how much more intimate the two had gotten, they were just both oblivious fucks, she loved her son, but he was an idiot.
"Knew it," She stated under her breath, Trunks didn't catch it. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"
"I just came to terms with the fact I'm potentially in Alterous emotional closeness with my best friend and want to get hitched yesterday, why do you think I didn't tell you sooner, I was fucking confused mom." Trunks said, words falling from his mouth, he regretted at least half of them, Bulma had to refrain from laughing at her son who had embarrassment painted on his face.
"Well, I can tell Mai she's out of the picture, but your telling Goten he's the groom." Bulma said, it took Trunks a minute for the words to settle in at which point his stomach flipped.
"Are you suggesting I be the bride?" Trunks asked, choking the words out harder than he thought, he wasn't opposed to the idea completely, just shocked.
He had worn a dress before.
He wouldn't mind doing it again.
But a wedding dress?
Little to frilly for his tastes.
And the color white didn't bring out his best features, blues and purples on the other hand.
Those brought out his best features.
"Absolutely, I know how to fit a dress and I can try and stitch one together for you, without frills, and not all white," Bulma said, confusion settled onto Trunks expression. "I know how much you hate frills, and the color white, don't think I haven't paid attention to how you dress, also, I'm your mother."
"But I don't like wedding dresses, they would not look good on me, trust me." Trunks said, argument less than he had hoped, but it would have to do.
"I can work something out for my son," Bulma said before reaching for an empty piece of paper. "Now begone! I have blueprints to make!"
Trunks didn't even bother to make a counter argument to the statement, he just left, finding Goten behind the door.
Oh yeah, he's screwed now.
Goten heard everything.
"Marry me? I'm flattered," Goten said, Trunks groaned, trying to hide his face in his hands as he walked past Goten. "When are we getting hitched?"
Trunks felt his stomach twist again.
It was just a question.
No.
Who was he kidding?
That's not just a question.
That is a very large question he wasn't prepared for.
Hell, he wasn't prepared for any of this.
He was just gonna suck it up and go with Mai.
And now he was getting hitched with his best friend.
He sure is good at going through crazy shit for a decent future.
"I don't know man!" Trunks snapped, his tail fluffed, he didn't mean to snap, it just came out like that, he was already doubling the weight on his shoulders. "All she did was say she would talk to Mai for me, and that the date was moved closer to now," A sigh laced his tone, he rubbed his arm before leaning against Goten who was standing in front of him. "Sorry for snapping at you."
"It's fine, I've been through worse." Goten said, running a hand through Trunks hair.
"I know, I'm just stressed, with legitimately everything, life is stupid man." Trunks said with a long sigh, wrapping his arms around Gotens torso, mind still clouding slightly with lust, but the peak was over and the final waves of heat were ebbing and flowing ever so slowly.
"I completely agree." Goten said, gingerly encasing Trunks in a hug, arms limp as he didn't want to use to much force, Trunks chuckled a bit.
"You give weak hugs man."
(Yeah, I put way to much effort into this self indulgent trash)
(a.k.a.: a chance for me to infodump about all the random details about how the omegaverse works in my OHSHC Kyoya/Reader fic late bloomer, a fake dating/enemies to lovers joint set in college). feel free to borrow any details of this that you like for other a/b/o stories/headcanons/etc <3
THREE PRESENTATIONS:
1) Alphas: The primary characteristic of alphas is that they undergo a hormone cycle called a rut, beginning in puberty and extending until late adulthood. Cholerone is the main hormone associated with this presentation. Both male and female alphas also typically display slightly heightened levels of testosterone, particularly during a rut. In build, alphas tend to be taller than other presentations. Excavated fossils of prehistoric alphas suggest that they also used to have slightly enlarged canines in order to aid in marking their mates. Alphas make up just under ~50% of the population. Stereotypical attributes of alphas: aggressive; assertive; natural leaders; intelligent.
2) Omegas: The primary characteristic of omegas is that they undergo a hormone cycle called a heat, beginning in puberty and extending until late adulthood. Sanguilen is the main hormone associated with this presentation. Both male and female omegas also typically display slightly heightened levels of estrogen, particularly during a heat. In build, omegas tend to be smaller than other presentations. Omegas make up just under ~50% of the population. Stereotypical attributes of omegas: passive; natural caregivers; weak; friendly.
3) Betas: Until the late 19th century, betas were essentially viewed as “broken omegas,” lacking the build and leadership qualities of alphas but without the heat cycle of an omega. It wasn’t until 1892 that scientist William Oh discovered more significant phenotypic differences (notably, an absence of scent glands and pheromones), and the term beta was coined. These biologically significant differences were cemented years later by the development of the blood tests currently administered to children to figure out their presentation.
HEATS AND RUTS
Typical onset of a heat/rut occurs around middle school (ages 12-15). Symptoms of first heats include headaches, fatigue, fever, and nausea. Early attempts at nesting (and protectiveness around the nest) are also common. First rut symptoms are similar, but with less fatigue and more aggressive tendencies. Treatment for both is to keep the individual hydrated and rested, in a room free of heavy/unfamiliar scents. Cool cloths and ibuprofen may help to reduce fever if necessary.
Sexual symptoms (heightened lust, heightened fertility) don’t present until older adolescence, by which time the individual’s cycle will have reached regularity (and the side effects lessened) and they will be able to take care of themselves.
Patients over the age of 21 can hire heat/rut companions professionally (18+ with a doctor’s referral - this is reserved for cases where symptoms of fever, confusion, etc remain severe for years after initial onset of the individual’s cycle, to the point that they are unable to safely go through a cycle alone). Heat hotels are common for people who don’t want to/can’t comfortably spend their cycle at home. Most hospitals also have a heat ward, where individuals are given a wearable monitor (or temporary microchip — depends on the patient’s preference) which will alert the hospital staff if they are severely dehydrated/ill/otherwise in danger, so that the patient can have privacy but also be safe in the case of medical emergency.
Most heats occur every 30 - 50 days, for about a week at a time. Ruts tend to occur every 40 - 70 days, for 1 - 3 days at a time. This disparity in frequency and duration is part of the reason why omegas are stereotyped as the weaker presentation.
SUPPRESSANTS
The strongest federally-approved suppressants for both presentations allow for 4 cycles a year, with 90 days between cycles. Stronger ones, which allow for 1-3 cycles a year, are legally available for sale, but haven’t gone through the same rigor of testing. 3-cycle suppressants are commonly used among the general population. 1- and 2-cycle suppressants are usually only prescribed to elite athletes, or to patients with unusual medical circumstances. Early trials are underway for 0-cycle suppressants, but the long-term repercussions of indefinite suppression are unknown.
TRANSITIONING BETWEEN PRESENTATIONS:
As with primary genders, transitions from one presentation to another has always existed socially, with new scientific advancements allowing for medical transitions as well.
It is easiest to transition (medically) from alpha to omega, or vice versa, than it is to transition to/from being a beta. This is for a few different reasons. Firstly, alphas and omegas are more structurally similar on a biological level, in that they both have hormone cycles and scent glands. This allows for a relatively simple treatment plan consisting of hormone replacement therapy, with optional cosmetic surgeries down the line.
Secondly, scent glands are difficult and dangerous to remove and/or transplant. There are some experimental treatments which attempt to transplant scent gland stem cells and/or transform existing cells into scent gland cells, and then use radiation therapy to propagate more from there; however, these treatments are in the earliest stages of trial and have not yet had much success. Because of this, most trans betas rely on heavy suppressants. However, these too are a higher-risk treatment than simple hormone replacement.
