The Book of Shin

^_^!! *LEMON WARNING!! *^_^

enjoy. . .
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Gohan. . .

The ground was torn, rifts running through it every way. It was barren, the once lush greenery
stripped bare. Razor sharp rocks cut at my feet, the shoes long since vanished. My hands, too,
were slick with blood, where I had caught myself when my knees gave. I could hardly see, my
vision clouded by dust, sweat, and fatigue. All I knew was that I was traveling closer to where
Gohan was. I had to find him.

Again the ground tilted up, smacking me across the face. It was harder to get up this time, but
staying down wasn\'t an option. A new steady trickle of liquid down my face announced the presence
of a new gash in my head, to nicely compliment the concussion from the first tumble. I didn\'t matter
though. All that mattered was finding Gohan. Time enough to heal later.

Onward. The only direction. I wasn\'t really walking, or even staggering. I was simply moving,
conquering one inch at a time. Move a foot, a hand along the cliff face, the other foot, repeat. . .

Until a pebble shifted under my foot, and Earth came rushing up again.

But didn\'t meet.

Instead I was caught in a pair of arms, and a voice-- a voice I thought I\'d never hear again.
\"Master, what has happened to you?\"

The hands that lowered me to the earth were gentle, as I mumbled, \"They came upon us. . .
struck us. . . wounded us. . .where is he?\" Where is my beloved?

I turned away from the bright lights that danced above me, and drew a deep breath.
Everything focused, the pain dissolved, and that damn ringing left my ears.

\"Kibito,\" I sat up to look him in the eyes. \"We must find Gohan! Where is he?\"

He looked surprised. \"Isn\'t he dead?\"

\"No, just very, very weak right now. Come on.\" I stood and took to the air, Kibito easily falling
into the role of trusty manservant. Part of me was seriously thinking of re-naming him Alfred.
Except I really don?t look like any member of the Wayne family.

We flew over the ground, until grass and finally even trees passed beneath us. I knew we were
close to Gohan, but I couldn\'t pin-point his location. So I asked for help, calling out to the forest.

\"Oh you doves in the trees, you foxes on the ground! Oh you rabbits and squirrels and deer and
wolves!\" Yes, a very formal beginning. Animals tend to be like that, desiring formality. It gives them
a sense of importance, something humans think animals don\'t need. Humans are wrong. If you
want an answer, you have to ask right. It?s where a lot of humans mess up. \"Have you seen my
beloved? His skin is white, like the moon, his fur is dark, like a raven, and his scent is warm, like
the earth in summer.\"

A clatter rose about half a mile away, as all the birds burst out of an oak. Bingo.
There, cradled gently in the roots of the ancient tree, was Gohan, his black spandex torn into
webs across his once white, now red and blue skin. Scorch marks marred his face, along with
numerous cuts and several contusions. His eyes were closed, and his breathing so shallow that
one could barely make it out.

I knelt by his head, and my fingers ran through his hair almost of their own accord.
Still so soft. . . Kibito was making ready to heal him. \"Wait,\" I said.
\"Let\'s get him home first.\" I know he wanted to protest, but his sense of propriety was just too strong.
So I reached out to the planet I grew up on, in a dimension completely separate from the one
we were now in. I reached, found, and pulled. The oak tree, birds and squirrels all disappeared,
replaced by low, rolling hills, a lakeshore, and a horizon bedecked with several moons.

Kibito leaned once more over Gohan, and bright lights danced once more. I watched as the bruises
faded, the wounds closed, and his skin return to it\'s normal, healthy porcelain. His breathing
became stronger, and evened out. I smiled as his eyes blinked slowly open, their inky depths wide
in wonder.

\"Am I dead?\" he asked softly.

\"No,\" I ran my hand through his hair. \"You are on the other side, but you are very much alive. It\'s a
very great honor, one even your father never received. You are on my home planet, one of the few
to ever visit it.\"

Kibito cleared his throat. \"Not even the other gods have set foot here.\" There was disapproval and
confusion in his voice, but he had never understood my actions when I took more. . . advanced
students.

\"Nonetheless, you are here, safe for now.\" My fingers were caressing his face. I turned to Kibito.
\"Speaking of other gods, Kibito, I need you to go into the office and find out why we didn\'t know
why Dabura had left Demon Space. If you get the run around, go strait to Gabriel, she\'s in charge
of communications. You may also check in with Hecate and see if there are any more surprises we
might want to know about. And while you\'re there, ask Sekhmet how Dabura got out anyway.\" I
paused as I thought of what else might need doing. \"Oh, and drop a note in Michael\'s in-box warning
him that we\'re about to activate the Zed Sword so don\'t worry when the alarm goes off. I think
that\'s all.\"

Kibito was frowning darker than ever, suspecting that I was giving him busy work. I suppose it kinda
was, although those things did need doing. But centuries of training reasserted themselves presently
and he went off with little fuss.

I turned back to Gohan. \"Well, now that we have a little privacy,\" I leaned down and caught his lips
with mine. It stayed a sweet, chaste kiss for about two seconds, before Gohan groaned and opened
his mouth, our tongues meeting not in a struggle, but a dance. I felt his hands on my back, my hair,
my ass. And suddenly, I was on my back, and he was tugging at the sash about my waist.

Saiyan hormones will never let you down.

It was easy to rip off the remaining spandex, allowing me to touch him all over. From his pebbled
nipples, the graceful curve of his flank, and the oh-so-sensitive fuzzy place on his lower back.
He was soft as cream tastes under my fingers, but hard too, like iron wrapped in silk.

He soon gave up with my clothes and made a few, well-controlled slices with his ki. As soon as he
saw bare skin he attacked it, laving it with lips and tongue. Again I reached down his back, and this
time he bucked against me, and I felt the pillar of his desire against my leg.

If size is any indication, the desire must have been about to kill him.

Feeling him, I suddenly needed to feel him in me, and yesterday. I reached out a hand and
summoned a tube of Saiyan Pride Easy Glide. When I pushed it into one of his hands, he paused
and gave a confused look, like the virgin he was. I sighed and took it back. I then aimed it at his
dick, and squeezed. He gave a little jump when the cool gel landed, but then another groan when
my much warmer hands smoothed it all over.

\"Now,\" I said, leaning back and wrapping my legs about his waist. \"Go for it.\"

\"But,\" he hesitated. \"Should\'t I--\"

\"No need.\" I said. No, I\'m not that slutty. \"You\'re a big boy, Gohan, but I\'m a god, and can take
what ever you give me. Now,\" I looked deep into his eyes. \"Shut up and fuck me.\"

He\'s a good kid, and responds very well to direct orders.

With one stroke he entered me fully, both of us crying out with the tightness of the fit. He paused a
moment to catch his breath, muttering \"Oh my God, oh my God. . . \" under his breath.

\"MMmmm,\" I moaned. \"That\'s me.\"

And then he started to move, and there was no more need for words. There were moans, certainly,
and as his thrusts got harder, and yummier, little cries and sighs. We were like our own symphony,
and for once, someone other than me was conductor. He gave the accelerando (1), and we sang a \\
sweet, aching duet. Gradually we crescendoed (2) into a forte, two Wagnerian(3) tenors screaming
out a climax, followed by a comforting subito piano (4).

I could hear the birds again as Gohan collapsed on top of me.

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For those not familiar with musical terms:
1) Accelerano: to accelerate, get faster.
2) Crecendo: to get louder
3) Wagner was a German composer. His operas tended to feature very heavy, loud orchestras,
which the singers had to be heard over. Nowadays, many singers are miked, but back in the day, a
siner would have to pretty much scream on pitch to be heard. Thus they needed very strong voices.
Singers with that amount of power are referred to as Wagnerian.
4) Subito piano: Suddenly quiet