Author’s Notes:  Song Used: Extreme – More Than Words

Contest Winner 2003 : Best Songfic.

*****

Saying I love you
Is not the words I want to hear from you
It’s not that I want you
Not to say, but if you only knew
How easy it would be to show me how you feel
More than words is all you have to do to make it real
Then you wouldn’t have to say that you love me
Cos I’d already know

[Flashback]

We fell asleep under the stars. I blink my eyes open and stare up at the sky for a few moments. The ground is so soft, so warm. My eyes start to close again before I realize that I’m not lying on the ground. I’m lying on -him-. I suck in my breath sharply and tilt my head up so I can see his face. Or at least the bottom of his chin. He’s sleeping. He has one arm wrapped around my waist, and my head is lying on his chest. By his stomach my hand is lying, and his hand… his free hand is right over it.

I can’t remember ever being held like this before. It feels so nice. So …. “Hm… Trunks?” His voice is a soft purr as he shifts and opens his eyes. He presses his cheek against the top of my head. His arm tightens around my waist, pulling me closer as his hand grips my hand tightly.

“We fell asleep.” I whisper, closing my eyes tightly. ‘Please don’t let this be a dream.’ I thought
desperately, ‘please, please don’t let this be a dream.’

“Hm..” He rubs his cheek against my hair and sighs contentedly, “I noticed.”

“Gohan?”

“Sshh..” His arm tightens more until his grip is almost painful, “Just… let’s just lay here.”

“Okay.” I don’t mind. So we lay there.

We don’t speak again, except when it’s time to leave and he whispers ever so softly in my ear three little words that make me ache : “I love you.”

[End of flashback]

What would you do if my heart was torn in two
More than words to show you feel
That your love for me is real
What would you say if I took those words away
Then you couldn’t make things new
Just by saying I love you

[Flashback]

“You’re… you’re getting married?” The world stops. For one very brief moment I feel as if someone has grabbed my heart and viciously ripped it out of my chest. No. It’s not real. He’s lying.

He looks at me, his eyes hooded. “Yeah.” His lips tilt in something resembling a smile, “Yeah.” He says again.

Married? To Videl. I can’t think. I can’t feel. I’m numb. He’s looking at me oddly and I shake my head quickly. “You… you…” He’s getting married… to the woman he loves.

My stomach twists painfully. Feeling returns in a rush of agony. Suddenly I’m falling.

And there’s no one to catch me… not anymore.

[End of flashback]

More than words

[Flashback]

A brief twinge of pain.

Purple bubbles past my skin into the air, turning bright red.

The ringing in my ears. Always ringing in my ears. Sometimes the ringing is so bad I can’t hear myself think… like now. I find myself slipping to the floor and am surprised at the weakness in my legs. It shouldn’t matter. I shouldn’t be here watching my life bleed away.

These last few years have been hell. He hasn’t spoken to me since the wedding, at least he hasn’t spoken to me like he used to. I’m nothing now. Just a… a friend. But I don’t want to be his friend…

I want to be more.

I want to be to him, what he is to me.

Everything.

The ringing… so high.

I want to sleep, forever.

I close my eyes, laying my bleeding arm in my lap. As the world slips out of my grasp I can hear singing… Singing? Angels leading me home? I don’t know. It doesn’t matter.

[End of flashback]

Now I’ve tried to talk to you and make you understand
All you have to do is close your eyes
And just reach out your hands and touch me
Hold me close don’t ever let me go
More than words is all I ever needed you to show
Then you wouldn’t have to say that you love me
Cos I’d already know

[Flashback]

“Trunks….”

His voice is choked. He’s staring at me like he did that day when he found me in my room, my wrists bleeding. ‘Don’t speak.’ I urge him silently, ‘Just don’t speak. You always… you always make things worse when you speak.’

“Why? Why did you … do that?” He asks softly.

“…” How do I tell him? I turn my head and gaze out the window. “Why did you marry Videl?”

He’s silent a moment, then he whispers, “Because… I… it was the right thing…”

“Because you love her?”

“.. y-yeah.”

I don’t believe it, and neither does he. I turn, our eyes meet. “I don’t believe you.”

He sighs deeply, “Trunks… it’s just… a guy can’t.. marry a guy.. not,” He rubs his eyes and shakes his head slowly, “Not..”

I walk up to him. I take his hands in mine and pull them away from his face. His eyes meet mine hesitantly. I can see in his eyes what’s in his heart.

“Betray yourself.” I whisper, leaning close until our noses bump, “Betray me.”

Our lips brush together ever so softly, “And you wonder why?” I add softly before kissing him fiercely.

He returns the kiss with so much fervor he nearly sucks the air right out of my lungs. His actions tell me more clearly than his words ever have, just how he -does- feel. We pull away together. I’m surprised to find his arms wrapped around me. When did he hug me? I don’t remember. “I… I love-” I press a finger against his lips and shake my head.

Slowly I step away from him. “Don’t.. don’t tell me how you feel Gohan. Words … words don’t mean much.”

I turn and walk to the door. “Then.. Trunks?… how?”

“Show me.” I glance back at him. He looks so uncertain, so … afraid? “Don’t tell me anymore Gohan. Show me.”

[End of flashback]

What would you do if my heart was torn in two
More than words to show you feel
That your love for me is real
What would you say if I took those words away
Then you couldn’t make things new
Just by saying I love you

[Flashback]

“Did you hear?” Goten is practically bouncing with his excitement. “Gohan divorced her!”

“What?” I turn slowly, my heart beating so fast it almost hurts. “What? What did you say?!”

Goten’s eyes widen as my words snap at him. He swallows nervously, “Erm. Gohan divorced Videl.”

I can’t breathe. Oh my god… I can’t breathe… “He… he divorced her?” I manage to gasp as I sink to my knees.

Goten falls to his knees beside me, “Hey! You all right?!”

“Just..”

He’s … he really does… Oh Gohan. Gohan. I have to be with him. I have to…

[End of flashback]

More than words

His breathe tickles my scalp. I sigh and press my lips to his neck. “Trunks? You’re daydreaming again?” He asks softly, his voice twinge with amusement.

“Just thinking… about…” I sigh again and shake my head slowly, “About how long it took us to realize just how much we needed each other.”

“Hm. I was an idiot.” He murmurs, running a hand through my hair and tugging playfully.

“You still are.” I respond with a little smile.

He laughs and pinches my arm gently. “Hey! Watch it!”

“But you’re my idiot, so it doesn’t matter.” I tilt my head up and he tilts his down.

Our lips meet.

So soft. So sweet. I love him. But love isn’t enough to describe how I feel about him. The way I feel about him is… “More than words.” He whispers against my lips as he breaks the kiss.

“What?” I frown up at him, but his hand is there, smoothing the frown away.

“Love is more than words. You taught me that.” He smiles and nips my lower lip teasingly, “Love is… this,” His hand trails softly down my back, “and this,” his fingers caress my scalp ever so gently, “and this.” His lips press against mine.

I smile against his lips, “You’re starting to understand.” I murmur against his lips.

He chuckles and rolls so that he’s laying on top of me. “Hm. I still have a lot to learn. I just hope you’ll last long enough to teach me.” He kisses my cheek, then licks my nose.

I curl up my nose and move my head away from his teasing tongue, “I’m the younger one, remember? My stamina is-”

He’s kissing me so fiercely that I can’t breathe for a moment.

My stamina is quickly fading.

And it doesn’t matter. I’d happily die now. Here. In his arms. Cradled against him so lovingly.

We don’t speak again until it’s time to get up and he whispers three little words in my ear that make my heart ache; “I love you.”

Author’s Notes:  Chapter Title: In the end…love is everything
Bulma smiled to herself as she looked in at the sleeping demi-saiya-jins. She wondered what their children would look like, she had wondered that before her son had died. ‘There is always hope…’ Her thoughts trailed off and she looked up at the ceiling. “No matter what, I know I loved you Vejita.” She said softly. She moved on down the hall with one last glance at the sleeping pair.

Silently she went into her lab and shut the door, a wave of nausea washed over her. She clutched the tabletop to keep her balance. “Oh god, how much longer can I keep this hidden.” she whispered. She made her way over to the stool and sat in it. She picked up a pen and fiddled with it for a moment. She needed to tell them, wouldn’t do either any good to find her dead one day. The cancer was slowly becoming worse, she almost couldn’t tell when she was going to feel ill. One day she would get sick in front of them, it would be better if they knew why.

“Vejita, I don’t know how to do this, I’m not as strong as you.” She murmured. She lay her head down on her arms and closed her eyes, sickness made her tired, though she tried not to show it.

Behind her a figure appeared hazily. The man went up behind her. He lay a transparent hand on her arm and leaned down, laying a kiss on her head. “I love you woman, you are stronger than you think, I will come for you soon.” He said softly, then he vanished again.

Trunks woke, blinking a moment as he remembered who the body was beside him. He could still smell blood in the air and he recalled why. Without a second thought he buried his face in the other man’s neck, kissing it gently. There was a groan from Gohan. He shifted and his hands tightened around Trunks for a moment before loosening their grip. The younger man lifted his head to look at the elder and found himself being thoroughly kissed.

“Mmm, nice way to wake up.” Gohan murmured as his black eyes ran over what of Trunks he could see.

“We do need to get up now, we keep going back to sleep.” Trunks said softly.

“Why do we need to get up? I can think of plenty of things we could do right here in bed.” Gohan winked at Trunks, his meaning earning him a light punch in the chest. “Okay, lets get up for a while anyway.”

Trunks leaned over and kissed him lightly. “That sounds more like it, for the moment…though…” Trunks ran his hand down Gohan’s bare chest. “I might not mind doing something in bed later.” He purred. That caused him to find himself being pinned to the cold floor by a very aroused demi-saiyajin.

“Stop teasing me” Gohan muttered as he kissed the side of Trunks’ neck savagely. Trunks managed to squirm away from Gohan, and he started to get dressed. A noise of protest sounded from the older man who soon was following suit and dressing himself.

Together they walked to the kitchen, Bulma was standing at the stove but she wasn’t cooking, she was looking off out the window.

“Mom?” Trunks went up to her and touched her arm. Bulma jumped a little as she realized he was there.

“Hey Trunks, Gohan.” She looked at them both for a moment, a soft sigh escaping her. “Would you guys sit down..I need to talk to you.”

Trunks’ brow wrinkled a little and he and Gohan quickly took seats at the table. Bulma sat down too, she looked tired.

“Mom, is something wrong?” Trunks questioned softly. He looked at her in concern, now that he was paying attention he could see how sunken in her face was, there were dark spots under her eyes, she even looked fragile.

“Trunks, honey…I…I have Cancer.”

A soft sound escaped Trunks, Gohan touched his arm gently in assurance.

“I…I don’t think I have much longer.” Bulma admitted faintly, She looked sad. Trunks was caught between wanting to comfort her and cry. His eyes ached from tears that were collecting but not falling. He stood and went over to her, hugging her as tightly as he dared. Bulma hugged him back as tightly as she could. A few tears fell from his eyes, making a few damp spots on her shirt. A pair of arms began to hug them both as Gohan put his arms around them. He whispered in Trunks’ ear that it would be okay. They stood together for several minutes before letting go of each other. Gohan held Trunks up, the teen felt like he had no strength in his legs. Bulma stroked Trunks’ hair with one hand, she didn’t think he would take it so hard, but she did understand.

“You have to promise me that you will get past it, when I go I will be with your father again, it is where I need to be. I love Vejita, and…I want to be with him again, but you..you have to stay here, you need to be with Gohan, you..you both need to continue to live, for everyone, remember us, we won’t be gone if you remember us.” She gently lifted his head and looked at him. Trunks looked back at her.

“I’ll never forget, never… our children will know.” Trunks looked at Gohan. “Our children, we will have children, and they will know what their history is, and they will be proud.”

Gohan nodded, he leaned down and gave Trunks a light kiss. He cuddled Trunks close. Bulma stepped back, feeling weak again. She got as far as the table, she held herself up by holding the edge of the table. Gohan and Trunks both looked at her and started to help her, then stopped.

Vejita stood in the doorway, he was dressed in jeans and that pink badman shirt. He came forward and took Bulma’s hand. She looked healthier. He smiled, a real smile and then looked at the two younger men for a moment. He nodded at them and then looked back at Bulma.

“It’s time Bulma.” He pulled her to him and leaned down a little. As his lips touched hers they disappeared.

Trunks was silent for a moment, Gohan felt a shudder run through him. “She’s gone…”

“Yes love, she is.” Gohan took Trunks’ hand in his and led him to the door. “Lets leave here, we have to start over again, the androids are gone, and we have each other. The last petal may have fallen, but we are still together.”

Trunks looked at him curiously for a moment and then nodded. “Yes…let’s go.” He agreed. And together, hand in hand, they flew off into the sunset.

Author’s Notes:  Chapter Title: The fight for freedom, losing love
The twins seemed surprised that Trunks was there, even more so when he powered up past super saiya-jin. Gohan knew he couldn’t be much help and stood aside to watch.

17 engaged Trunks first. They clashed together, each kick and punch meeting a block. “Damn it, we killed you, there was no way you could have survived.” 17 hissed.

“Yes, I did die, but it was in the past.” Trunks slammed his fists into the side of 17′s head. The blow was hard and 17 began to plummet to the ground. The large blast of Ki that followed disintegrated the android before he had the chance to recover.

“No, 17! You bastard, you killed him!” 18 launched a feverish and desperate attack on the young demi-saiya-jin. Gohan found himself wanting to fight to. His fist slammed in the side of 18′s head and she retaliated quickly, focusing on the attacker. This gave Trunks time to recharge another strong blast. 18 was still a little faster than Gohan, but his strength was on his side. Blood dribbled from a cut on his lip and another across his left cheek and eye. Ignoring th fact that he couldn’t see out of his eye Gohan gave her the hardest kick he could muster at the base of her skull. 18 fell forward and Trunks released his blast, disintegrating the female android as well. Gohan powered down, falling to the ground heavily. Trunks caught him and carried him back to the safe house.

“Gohan, where do you hurt?”

Gohan took a breath to reply and found himself hacking up blood as a sudden coughing fit wracked his body. Bulma started the regeneration tank when she saw them on the security camera, buzzing Trunks in without any of the normal formalities.

“Get him undressed and into the tank.” She instructed quickly as they arrived in the medical room. “The tank is set, all you have to do is start it.” With that she left, hoping some time alone would make her alternate son come to his senses about Gohan. Trunks looked at Gohan a little uneasily for a moment, then bit the inside of his cheek, the blood he tasted settled him just a little. Gohan slumped over weakly, he had some internal injuries that were draining his energy. Slowly Trunks started to remove Gohan’s gi top. Pausing at the sudden changed in Gohan’s breathing.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No..just get it off.” Gohan’s voice was faint, indicating more pain than he was showing.

Trunks bit his lip as he pulled off the shirt. Bruises massed over Gohan’s chest and stomach. Lightly Trunks reached out and started to untie Gohan’s sash, trying to suppress his sudden urge to kiss the bloody lip and caress the bruised skin gently. Trunks shook his head, clearing it of the unusual thoughts. Gohan tried to finish undressing himself.

“Gohan, let me do it, you are too weak, just let me get these off and get you into the regen tank.”

Gohan closed his eyes and slowly nodded. Trunks went back to removing Gohan’s clothes, blushing terribly by the time Gohan was in the tank. He hooked up all the wires and adjusted the breathing mask over Gohan’s face. The darker Demi-saiya-jin watched as the tank was closed and began to fill, closing his eyes he let himself be engulfed with the healing fluid, the picture of the worried teen staying with him.

Trunks watched Gohan’s eyes close, catching a hint of something in the dark eyes. ‘Does he… feel the same?’ Trunks thought fleetingly. Shaking his head the lavender haired young man went to find his mother.

Bulma sat at the table, cup of coffee between her hands. Trunks sat down across from her. “Um…Bul…mom?”

She looked up at him and smiled a little. “Yes Trunks?”

“Um” Trunks looked down at the table top. “What was….Gohan and Trunks’…relationship like?”

“I know they both cared about each other…much like you and he care about each other now.”

Trunks jumped a little, his eyes startled, his face flushed. “How could you tell, I wasn’t sure myself…until today.”

“A mother knows when her child is in love, and with him, I’ve seen things. I know how love makes you act, and feel.” Bulma’s voice was soft and understanding.

Trunks was still blushing. “Thanks..Mom.” He stood and went into the room that he had slept in the night before. He curled up on his bed, thinking about what Bulma said, how he felt…and slowly he fell asleep.

***

17′s cackling laughter met his ears. He was chained to the wall. A light turned on. The cold blue eyes looked at him. “You get a treat today pet, if you are good I’ll let him go.” The android gestured at a figure on the ground.

“Gohan? What the hell, 17 let him go!” He struggled against the chain.

“Already you misbehave, hmm, 18 would punish you for that.” The cold smirk appeared. “Punishment is good for a bad pet.” 17 walked up to him and punched him hard in the gut. Trunks heaved, tasting blood in his mouth. He still hadn’t healed from the last beating. “I think I’ll make his death quick, it’s more fun to hurt those who can react.”

Trunks was numb, he watched as 17 kicked Gohan, rolling over the unresponsive man onto his back. Pulling a knife from the rack 17 leaned over and slowly started to slit Gohan’s throat. Trunks watched his senshi’s neck, blood appeared and started to run down, the body convulsed for a moment then was still.

“NO!”

***

Trunks jerked awake. Usually he stayed asleep until the android started to cut his own throat. Gasping softly he looked at the other bed. There was a lump…raising and falling rhythmically. Gohan was already out of the tank, that was good. Trunks looked at the clock and realized he had been asleep for quite a while. He got up and went over to Gohan’s bed. The older man’s face now bore scars similar to the Gohan Trunks had known in his time. Gohan shifted in his sleep, muttering something and shaking a bit. Trunks chewed his lip for a moment then slowly he lifted the blanket and climbed in beside his sleeping friend. Gohan shivered in his sleep and snuggled against Trunks, who put his arms around the dark haired man and fell into a dreamless sleep.

***

Gohan groaned softly as he woke. Blindly he tried to shift finding something holding him. Trunks’ peaceful face lay in front of his. Gohan started to lean forward and kiss the younger man but hesitated as he remembered that this was a different Trunks. But he was Trunks..and Gohan knew that he loved the younger demi-saiya-jin. He debated if and how to wake up the younger man.

Trunks opened his eyes and blinked away the bleariness, focusing on Gohan. He froze a moment, Gohan’s eyes trapped him. He hadn’t expected Gohan to be awake when he woke, he had been hoping to slip out of the bed before Gohan would know he was there. Now they looked at each other, neither saying a word. Gohan’s eyes made no attempt to cover up the love they were showing. Trunks was sure that was what it was. Gohan’s hand brushed Trunks’ cheek lightly. For a moment Trunks didn’t know what to do, he found himself leaning against Gohan’s hand, he closed his eyes. Then he felt Gohan’s lips…lightly brushing his own. Trunks leaned into the kiss, pressing against Gohan’s lips with a kind of desperation. Gohan’s tongue brushed his lower lip, Trunks hesitated for a moment, his breath hitched slightly. Gohan started to pull back, afraid he had pushed Trunks to far. Blue eyes met black.

“Gohan, don’t…” Trunks didn’t finish his sentence ; he put his hand around Gohan’s neck and pulled his head down, kissing the older demi-saiya-jin without hesitation. He parted his lips, allowing Gohan’s tongue to taste the inside of his mouth. Moments later the kiss ended. Gohan’s mouth moved along Trunks’ jaw for a moment, feather light, caressing the silky skin. Trunks’ hands began to touch his back, finding their way under Gohan’s shirt, running over the compact muscles.

“Trunks…Trunks look at me.” Gohan whispered. Trunks looked at the raven haired man, his eyes smoldering, almost a smoky blue now. Gohan ran his fingers through the lavender hair, he traced the smooth skin on the teen’s jaw. “You were everything to me, I thought that I had lost you, and yet, you’re here.” Gohan’s voice was faint. He ran his eyes over Trunks slowly.

Trunks stiffened, he wanted Gohan to love him, he didn’t want to be thought of as the Trunks who had died. He didn’t love this Gohan because he was like his Gohan… at least he didn’t think so. “Gohan, I need…” He trailed off.

Gohan looked at him for a moment. “I understand” He said faintly.

“It’s not you, I just want to be sure of myself, of…my feelings for you.” Trunks looked away from Gohan. “I want to be sure it’s you I love, and that I’m not pretending you are my Gohan, the one I knew in my time.”

“You…oh god, you thought…what I said…you thought I was thinking of you as…him?”

“Yes…I”

Gohan leaned over and kissed his neck, nibbling it with the attentions of planning something else for a moment. Trunks did nothing, trying to understand what he was doing.

“I never wanted to do this with him.” He said softly, then Trunks felt a pain in his neck as Gohan’s teeth sank into the skin, drawing blood which the older demi-saiya-jin lapped up like it was the most wonderful thing he had ever tasted. Trunks felt something, it touched his mind. He didn’t think about it as he pushed Gohan back, his hands ran down Gohan’s neck, he studied the pale skin for a moment, leaning down he ran his tongue up Gohan’s neck, tasting the slight tang of his skin.

“I never want to be with anyone but you.”

Trunks bit into Gohan’s neck, the warm blood entered his mouth, his head felt dizzy, he could feel Gohan in his head, and he could hear what Gohan was thinking.

Gohan loved him, loved him more than he had thought possible. Gohan wanted him to always be there. Trunks knew he returned the feelings twofold. He lay his head on Gohan’s chest. Gohan put his arms around Trunks, neither had thought bonding could be tiring, but they were both exhausted. Each mentally teased the other for a moment, but both soon where asleep.

Author’s Notes:  Chapter Title: Another dimension, another life, another chance
Trunks woke shivering, he grumbled softly to himself about falling asleep at the worktable. He blinked as he lifted his head slowly. He shook his head and squinted at his surroundings. He tried to understand why he was lying in a pile of debris. There was a sound to his left, the shifting of cement, and voices.

“We killed him, there’s no way the little freak could have survived.” Snapped a female voice.

“Well lets go then, standing around isn’t any fun.” Said a male voice boredly.

Trunks lay very still, not wanting to draw any attention to himself, for the moment. He barely breathed as he waited for them to leave. Once he was sure that they were gone he stood and slowly looked around the landscape surrounding him. It was pure destruction, like he remembered from his childhood. He had recognized the voices too.

“If 17 and 18 are here, where am I?” He murmured to himself. Slowly he extended his senses to locate any familiar Ki’s, before he found anything recognizable he heard a cry, of pure anguish.

“OH KAMI, TRUNKS, NO!” It came from the other side of the cement pile, where 17 and 18 had been. The new voice was familiar as well. Quietly Trunks flew to the other side of the cement. He hid in the shadows, stunned by what he saw. He watched as his mirror image was picked up in the arms of this world’s Gohan. The limp body was covered in blood. Trunks’ Saiya-jin ears were able to hear Gohan’s crying.

Gohan started to fly off, silently Trunks followed as Gohan carried the lifeless body through the now falling rain. A peaceful wooded area came into view, Gohan took that Trunks’ body down into the area and lay it gently down on the grass. Trunks landed in the trees nearby and watched as the adult began to dig a place for the body. He finished and picked up the body, for a moment all Gohan did was look at the lifeless form, blinking rapidly. He sank to his knees beside the open grave, cradling that Trunks’ body close. Trunks looked down a moment, missing the tender kiss that Gohan placed on now cool lips. He looked back up to see Gohan push wet lavender hair out of the bloody face.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have let you come, it’s my fault, it shouldn’t of happened, you should be alive.” Gohan continued to mutter his apologies as he rocked the limp body. Half an hour passed in the rain before Gohan carefully lay the body in the shallow grave and covered it.

Trunks didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t comfort Gohan. He couldn’t find his mother to ask for help. Distraught he blindly headed away from Gohan, and the scenes of his own death and burial. He ran, he flew, he ran more, all blindly, wearing his body out quickly. He found himself by the ocean, the edge of a high cliff. “If I dropped my Ki and jumped it would be over.” He whispered to himself. He heard a rustling behind him and quickly hid himself in the trees.

A woman came out onto the cliff, she was crying. A man appeared behind her. “I’m sorry Bulma.”

“Gohan, it’s not you’re fault.” She hicupped. She turned and patted Gohan’s shoulder gently. “I’m going back now, don’t stay to long.” He nodded slowly then settled into a blank stare out across the water. Bulma watched him for a moment then left.

Trunks watched him, this timeline was much different than his own. Gohan was still the same, handsome, beautiful. Trunks shook his head, he was unsure as to where that thought had come from. The older Demi-Saiya-jin continued to sit staring at the waves, alternating between weeping and cursing himself. Trunks could not help remembering when he had lost his Gohan.

***

[Flashback]

The back of his neck hurt. Gohan was nowhere to be seen, but the plume of smoke in front of the boy told him where his Sensei had gone. He started for the town, not noticing the steadily falling rain. He traced Gohan’s Ki desperately, it was dangerously low. Suddenly it disappeared completely.

“Oh God, Gohan…no.” His Sensei’s body came into view, lying in the rubble. “What did they do to you Gohan.” He whispered, falling to his knees at his dead friends side. He rolled the body over, a hole ripped in his soul as he looked at the bloody and ashen face. He tilted his head up to the sky, trying to hold back his tears, furiously he hit the ground with his clenched fists, and he let out a primal scream of rage.

His body felt full of electricity, he felt his muscles straining, there was a crackling in the air. Suddenly his aura was bright gold, he collapsed to the ground in an exhausted heap. After a while of sobbing uncontrollably he found the strength to take Gohan’s body away from the city and he buried his friend carefully.

Bulma found him still sitting beside the new grave the next morning, immediately she knew who was buried there, she tried to comfort Trunks, he wanted nothing to do with her. She backed off seeing this. Trunks was glad she left but yet he didn’t want to be alone.

[End flashback]

***

Trunks pulled up the right sleeve of his jacket and looked down at his wrist. The scaring would be with him forever. He remembered his anger with his mother after finding himself still alive. Even now though he had to admit that it was for the best that she had saved him. He had gotten to avenge Gohan’s death, it had felt satisfying to kill Gohan’s murderers. He remembered actually dying once, in the past. The only time he was certain of his father’s love for him.

He ran his index finger over the scar on his wrist. He bit his lip and looked back up at the cliff, Gohan’s hand was glowing. Without thinking he was in front of Gohan, firmly gripping the older man’s arm in his hand. “I’m not losing you again Gohan.” He said softly but firmly.

Gohan’s eyes widened and the gathered Ki disappeared. Trunks still held Gohan’s arm firmly though. “T..trunks?”

“Yes”

“But I just…”

“I’m not this world’s Trunks, he IS dead, I’m not sure how I got here, but I refuse to let you die here too.” Trunks’ face flushed hottly.

Gohan regarded him seriously but yet unsure for a moment. “I’m dead in your world?”

“Yes…four years ago in my world.” Trunks paused, he thought for a moment and let go of Gohan’s arm. “This world seems to be the same time as mine, I mean… This Trunks was eighteen, right?”

Gohan nodded slowly, Trunks unconsciously started to drink in Gohan’s appearance, he had both arms, his Ki was stronger than Trunks’ Gohan’s had been.

“I can kill them.” He said finally. Gohan looked at him, his eyes flashing hope, then curiosity, then doubt. “I can Gohan, I did it in my world, I can do it here too.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes” Gohan thought for a moment, he seemed to be arguing with himself a little. Then he shook his head briefly.

“Come on then, even if you can beat them you need some sleep first. Let’s go to the safe-house.” Gohan had the slightest sound of doubt still on the edge of his voice.

“Just a minute, Gohan, could this world’s Trunks go Super Saiya-jin?”

“He attained it just recently.”

“I can go a step beyond.” Gohan’s eyes widened in disbelief. Trunks started to power up slowly so that Gohan could follow his ascension.

“I think you are stronger than me.” Gohan looked and sounded amazed.

“Possibly” Trunks powered back down. Gohan turned and started into the wooded area behind them.

“Come on Trunks.” He called back.

The lavender haired teen followed him a little numbly. He was feeling strange around Gohan, he was Gohan after all, and now…he was noticing an attraction to his sensei. Trunks chewed his lip and watched Gohan’s movements as they walked, tired but still alert. The safe house was about a mile inland. Gohan stopped and typed a code into the keypad by the door.

The light on the wall turned green and they stepped inside as the door opened. It then closed behind them and an infrared scanner ran over their bodies. It beeped it’s completion and a door opened on the far end of the room for them to enter the house. Silently Trunks followed Gohan into a living room.

“Gohan, the scanner reported two people, who’s with…” Bulma came to a dead stop as she looked at Trunks.

“But…”

“I’m not your Trunks.” He said softly.

Bulma sat down heavily in a nearby chair.

“Come here.” She urged. He complied, going over and kneeling on the floor in front of her. Bulma ran her fingers over his face, making sure he was real.

“No, you’re not my Trunks, but you’re still my son.” She murmured. She stood and gave Trunks a hug, then started out of the room.

“You must be hungry, and tired. Gohan please get him and yourself something to eat and then show him to your room.”

Gohan nodded and watched her leave. Trunks followed the taller man into the kitchen where they quickly ate and then they went to the bedroom. Two pallets were made on the floor. Gohan went and lay down on the farther one without saying a word. Then he looked at Trunks, remembering something. “Bathroom is next-door if you need it.”

“Thanks” Trunks moved over and lay down on the other pallet and looked up at the ceiling for a few minutes. There was a small noise, he had to strain his ears to figure it out. Gohan was crying softly. Trunks cringed inwardly, Gohan was grieving, it was a good thing for him to do so but Trunks didn’t like that Gohan was hurting, he didn’t want Gohan to hurt. Rolling over on his side and facing the door he tried to block out the soft sobbing.

***

Trunks woke with a jerk, sweat pouring off him, his body shaking. The dream flashed through his mind. He jumped as a hand touched his arm. Not realizing who it was. “You okay?” Gohan’s tone was worried and sleepy.

“I’m fine.”

“Nightmare?”

“Yes.” Trunks could make out Gohan’s figure as the older man returned to his own bed. He lay himself back down.

“Sorry I woke you.”

“Don’t *yawn* worry about it.” Gohan’s breathing quickly leveled out as he fell back asleep.

Trunks couldn’t get himself back into the same state. He lay there and stared at the ceiling, listening to the steady rhythm of Gohan’s breathing. Gradually the room began to lighten. Trunks had lain awake since the dream that had woken him. He heard Gohan’s breathing change and he shifted noisily. Trunks rolled over and looked at the sleeping man.

Gohan’s face was twisted in a pained expression and there were fresh tears tracing their way down his cheeks over the dried tracks of previous sadness. Trunks got up quietly and left the room. He went through his normal morning routine in the bathroom and then went down to the kitchen. There was a smell of coffee in the air and Bulma was working at the stove. The smells in the kitchen said this world’s Bulma was a better cook than his own mother.

Trunks went over to her and kissed her cheek then got himself a cup of coffee. Sitting down at the table he quietly nursed the bitter substance, allowing the caffeine to start through his system. Bulma placed a plate in from of him. “Thanks Mom.”

Bulma sat down beside him and smiled uneasily.

“I won’t call you mom, if it hurts too much.”

“It’s okay Trunks, I know that my baby is gone, but I feel like you were given back to me for a reason.” She looked at Trunks with eyes that held unconditional love. ‘I’m not the one who really needs you though, I hope you can both save each other.’ She thought as she watched Trunks start to eat. After a few minutes Bulma returned to the stove and checked on the food that was still there. Trunks finished eating and put his plate in the sink. “Would you go get Gohan up?”

“Sure” Trunks went on back to the bedroom. The tangle of Gohan’s sheets said he had been dreaming, a nightmare from the looks. Now he was twitching and muttering. Tears falling even now in his sleep. Trunks was pained to see him like this. He moved over beside the older man’s bed and kneeled beside him. Gently Trunks wiped Gohan’s tears away. His heart sped up a little and he bit his lip. Gohan shifted but still slept. Trunks lightly ran his fingers over Gohan’s cheeks before sitting back on his heals. “Gohan, time to get up.”

Gohan started to wake slowly, he blinked at Trunks and smiled for a brief moment, then the smile fell away as he remembered yesterday.

“There’s food in the kitchen.” Trunks stood and left so Gohan could change. Returning to the kitchen Trunks found a note from Bulma saying she was in her lab and didn’t want to be disturbed. He went to check on the food, dishing up some of it for Gohan, who had stumbled sleepily and gotten a cup of coffee.

“Thanks” Gohan said through a yawn. Trunks sat down and just looked in Gohan’s direction. When the elder Demi-saiya-jin was done eating he looked up at Trunks. “You can really take care of the androids?”

“Yes”

“Then let’s go do it, the sooner this nightmare is over the better, we’ve been hiding long enough.”

“I agree.” Trunks stood and started to leave.

“Hold on, I’m coming with you.” Gohan quickly joined.

“Gohan, I…I don’t want you to get hurt.” Trunks didn’t look at Gohan, his cheeks flaming a little.

“I’ll be okay, you need someone to watch your back.” Trunks nodded reluctantly and they both left to find the androids.

Author’s Notes:  Chapter Title: In failing sometimes there is hope
Slowly he opened his eyes, a familiar liquid surrounded his body, it began to drain away, leaving his body somewhat cold. The casing opened up and he removed the mask from his face, along with the receptors attached to him. He looked at his wrists, a matching pair of scars looked back at him. “I’m not dead.”

“Fortunately you aren’t.” Bulma appeared in front of him and handed him a towel.

“WHY Did you save me? I WANT to die! I want to…be…with….Gohan.” Trunks bit his lip after trailing off. Bulma just stood there, letting him yell at her. Sheepishly Trunks towelled himself off, completely silent he dressed quickly in clean clothes.

“You are our last hope Trunks, if I had let you go then there would be no chance for us against the androids.” She reached out and gently brushed his hair out of his face. “I love you Trunks, I couldn’t just let you die.”

For a moment Trunks couldn’t say anything. He pulled her to him and hugged her tightly, his only way of saying how much he did care.

“Someday you’ll be with your love again Trunks. I know it.” She left him quickly, he stared after her, wondering what she meant.

***

“So then I got Goku-san to stop going nuts and he took the antidote and returned to the others.” Trunks finished up his tale of his trip to the past. Bulma giggled at the memory of Vejita and the Pink Badman shirt. Trunks seemed in a better mood, he told her how much fun it had been to see the younger side of his senshi.

“Gohan seemed so young and carefree, it was amazing mom.” Trunks said softly. He looked at her seriously. “I want to go back and help with the androids, it’s only a three year difference to that timeline…I hope to get to know Father a little.”

Bulma looked down at her hands for a moment. “Your father will let you know as much about him as he wants you to know. Just promise you’ll come back soon.” She looked back up at him, then went over and hugged him tightly. “Tell your father that I love him.”

“I will, I love you mom.” Trunks hugged her and she kissed him then he headed off again.

***

Trunks’ return was happy. He told his mother about all of the new things that had happened, except for his dying, he kept that to himself, fibbing about it a little, telling her he had been hurt badly and Vejita had reacted, Trunks knew that it showed how much his father actually cared.

Defeating the androids was nothing now. Trunks did it without much thought. Cell was only slightly more of a challenge, quickly squelched with the power Trunks now had. But the eighteen-year-old longed for something more than the freedom the defeating the androids had given them.

Bulma knew what he didn’t, he had been in love with his senshi, he still was. She had watched her teen son fall for the elder Demi-Saiya-jin, and she had accepted it. Bulma smiled softly as she remembered when Gohan had confessed his love for Trunks, it had been a little surprising but yet she had seen it. It happened one day as they watched Trunks nap after a particularly strenuous training session.

***

[Flashback]

Trunks rolled over in the grass, his lavender hair catching in the wind and getting ruffled a bit. Bulma couldn’t help looking over at Gohan, she knew how much Gohan cared about Trunks. The look on the twenty-year-old’s face was one of absolute rapturous love.

“Gohan?” She questioned softly. He looked at her and blushed heavily.

“He’s so beautiful Bulma-san, I love him, I shouldn’t but I do.”

“It’s all right Gohan. Love is one thing that is still free these days, still something we can do of our own free will.”

“You really don’t mind?” Gohan sounded surprised.

“No Gohan, I don’t.”

“I love him so much, I can’t tell him now, but one day I will.”

Bulma smiled warmly and patted his hand. She was sure one day Trunks would love Gohan back, it was never an issue, love was love, even she knew that. She looked up at the sky and thought of Vejita, she had loved him, and she was sure he loved her. He never told her, but she knew, the same would probably be with Trunks and Gohan, they would just know, and that was all that mattered.

[End flashback]

***

Trunks threw himself into studying things that caught his interest. He helped Bulma with her inventions with a false enthusiasm. He did it to keep his mind off of other things, namely Gohan. His nightmares of Gohan’s death were back in full force. He tried to avoid them by not sleeping.

Bulma watched him in a worried state. He was almost withering from the lack of sleep. She couldn’t do anything to help him, and it saddened her.

Trunks walked down to the lab with a cup of coffee in his hand. He was running over the plans for something in his head, searching for any flaws that could be seen before they could be built into the device. They still weren’t sure what it was supposed to do, it was one of those odd inventions Bulma had thought of in the middle of the night.

Looking at the device on the worktable he could see that his mother had been working on it, it looked almost finished. He sat and put the coffee cup on the tabletop, Yawning he picked up the devise and studied it. He fiddled around with a screwdriver, moving a few circuits and adjusting some settings. His eyes drooped heavily; he tried to fight his sleepiness and lost. The mystery device lay on the table and as he shifted in his sleep his hand pressed a little orange button, his body flickered for a moment and then disappeared.

Author’s Notes:  Chapter Title: When the last petal falls…
“You’ll come with me right?” Trunks felt Gohan look at him with amusement. A hand ruffled the lavender hair on the boy’s head.

“Sure kid”

“Don’t call me kid, I’m almost as big as you.” Trunks shot a look at his senshi, Gohan’s eyes held a look of teasing.

“Yes, I guess you aren’t much of a kid anymore, but you’re still littler than me squirt.”

Trunks didn’t retort, instead he changed the subject. “We’ll always be friends, right Gohan?”

“Yes Trunks, always, even after the last petal falls and the flowers bloom no more, our friendship will remain strong.” Gohan looked away from the fourteen-year-old, not wanting the boy to see his feelings.

Trunks smiled absently, turning his head to look at the sunset. Gohan could be so…poetic at times. His senshi and best friend was an amazing person. “If that ever happens the world will have ended.” He murmured softly, but Gohan still heard him.

The lavender haired boy didn’t notice as the older Demi-Saiya-jin studied him, Trunks looked beautiful against the sunset, Gohan wanted to treasure the sight forever. Even if he couldn’t share his feelings with the boy, he could hold onto moments like these, when it seemed as if the world was still perfect, like before the androids.

***

Trunks lay there numbly, the sad fact playing in his head, over and over. Gohan was gone…dead. Every day seemed harder than the last. He clutched the pillow to his body harder and cried. He knew he shouldn’t cry, it was a sign of weakness, but he didn’t care, he couldn’t have stopped crying if he had wanted to.

After some time he managed to gain a hold of himself, and slowly the tears stopped. He got off the bed and took a shower, then dressed and ran his fingers through his hair as he contemplated what he was thinking of doing. Nodding his head decidedly he buckled his sword on and slipped out of the house, trying not to wake Bulma.

He searched for the androids, looking in all the usual places, he wanted to torture them, make them feel like they had made Gohan feel. An amused chuckle was his only warning and a foot connected with his back. He snapped forward and managed to turn around. Powering up quickly as he came face to face with the dark haired android.

17′s smirk seemed to become more amused as Trunks went super saiya-jin. “You’re back for another taste? I would have thought that without that one armed freak you would have given up after the last time.”

“You’re a cold hearted murderer. I won’t just stand by and let you wreak havoc whenever you wish. Gohan was the most amazing fighter, I won’t let his death be in vain. My Senshi died to protect the world from you!”

17 laughed outright at this. Trunks drew his sword and charged. 17 easily dodged the boy’s frantic attacks. Casually he flung a ki blast at the teen. Trunks barely managed to dodge it, trying to throw his own attack at the android. 18 appeared behind the lavender haired teen, bored of watching she attacked. Trunks couldn’t beat them both together, he knew it but he kept fighting. They left him alive enough to drag himself home.

“Trunks!” Bulma pulled him into the house with surprising strength and made him sit down in the kitchen. She pulled the first aid kit out of the closet and started to clean him up. Trunks bit his lip as she washed out the cuts on his body and face, they stung from the antiseptic as she bandaged them. Gently she ran her fingers through his hair for a moment then she put away the kit.

“I don’t want to loose you too.” She said softly. Trunks said nothing to her, falling into a numb stare. Bulma moved away to do something else, after a moment Trunks got up and headed for his room. Her worried glances followed him.

Trunks shut the door behind him. Sadly he looked around the room. Reminders of his senshi where all around. It felt so empty, the air somewhat fridged. Gohan’s bed sat there, still made, and painfully empty, looking as unused and cold as it really was. Trunks moved over and stood by Gohan’s bed, biting his lip to keep from crying again. He let out a heavy sigh and lay down on the bed, burying his face in the pillow. He breathed in deeply, he could smell the musky scent that was Gohan’s. He bit his lip harder than before, avoiding tears becoming harder.

“You should have let me come.” Trunks muttered. “I could have helped you, Gohan, I’m so lost without you, Senshi, I miss you.” He continued to mutter sadly to himself. He wanted out, he needed Gohan, the elder Demi-Saiya-jin had been everything to him. Life without Gohan seemed pointless. Trunks pulled himself up and got off the bed, removing his sword from his back he lay it on his bed. He removed his jacket and tried to think of something other than Gohan.

It was hard, the fight with the Androids kept reminding him how defenceless he was without the older Demi-Saiya-jin. He didn’t realize how proud of him Gohan would have been this morning, he had done well actually. Trunks dwelled on his senshi again, he remembered Gohan’s support when he decided he wanted to learn how to fight. Gohan had always been there for him, and now that he was gone Trunks only wanted to be with him again, to be understood and supported.

Trunks buried his face in his hands for a moment, then slowly he looked at his sword. He took it out of it’s sheath, and for a few moment just stared at it. His mind went numb first, he sat down on his bed, not thinking about what he was doing. The numbness spread over the rest of his body as he positioned the hilt of the sword between his knees securely. He held out his wrists, letting them touch the blade edges lightly.

“I’m sorry mom.” He pressed his wrists together hard and pulled them down along the sharp blade, for a moment he felt nothing and then there was pain. He felt the blade touch his bone and stopped moving his arms. Blood already touched the silver metal. He pulled his arms off it, his eyes widening as the amount of blood coming from his wrists registered. He felt the pain sharply, completely, all numbness gone now. He felt dizzy, and fell unconscious as the bedroom door opened.

Author’s Notes:  The song Gohan sings in the beginning is Magic Man, by Heart – in case you’re curious.

Contest Winner 2002 : Best Romance, Best Comedy and Best Overall

*****

“Cold late night so long ago, when I was not so strong you know…” The lavender prince watched in affectionate amusement as the dark haired demi-Saiyan sung with passionate abandon into the thick bristle brush held tightly in his left hand. Leaning his shoulder against the doorframe, the older man allowed an uncharacteristic smile to grace his sterner features. Kami, he was beautiful when he thought no one was watching…when he loosened up and the uptight little boy got to put away his books and lace up his dancing shoes.

“A pretty man came to me, never seen eyes so blue…” Flatterer. A loving chuckle played a bass harmony to the younger demi-Saiyan’s higher pitch as the Son pivoted before the glass mirror, gentle ebony eyes lidded with the fervour in which he vocalized his excitement. He was the only person the pale prince knew that sang when he got nervous…

“I could not run away – it seemed we’d seen each other in a dream…” Something like that, the voyeur thought with a casual smile, slender fingers absently tapping his bicep; a padded accompaniment to his other half’s song and dance routine. “It seemed like he knew me – he looked right through me!” There are differences, koibito, but you have never disappointed me…

The unsuspecting serenading Son clutched the wooden handle in both hands as he launched into the chorus with admirable vigour. “‘Come on home, boy!’ he said with a smile, “You don’t have to love me yet, let’s get high awhile…” Shaking his silken head, the man re-crossed his ankles; gazing, enrapt and enamoured of the sensuous being that curled one arm around the bedpost, dipping with serpentine quality over the covered mattress. Heh, it was a good thing Dende wasn’t aware of the seductive spectacle the younger man was enticingly displaying on his bed. The little Namek would’ve had a fit.

“‘But try to understand, try to understand, try try try to understand – I’m a magic man!’” Laughter escaped the purse of his lips as he pushed off from the jamb, shoving his hands into the soft cotton pockets of his gi pants. Stopping abruptly, the Son’s huge ebony eyes betrayed his capture; the enormity of his embarrassing act causing him to lose his balance, falling backward onto the quilted coverlet with a soft squeak.

“Trunks!” Smiling, the prince sauntered over to his sputtering counterpart, sidling onto the edge of the bed as the other demi-Saiyan sat up, a crimson highlight of classic Son humility decorating his elegant cheekbones. “How long have you been there?” Coyly concealed eyes of shimmering obsidian regarded him with urgent hope that was clasped futilely and in vain.

“Long enough to remember why I’m here today…” That rich scarlet tone deepened as those sparkling eyes he adored so much swallowed the intricate embroidery on the ancient comforter.

“Why aren’t you getting dressed, pretty boy?” The younger demi-Saiyan questioned with a touch of playful hostility. Shrugging powerful shoulders, the prince brushed aside a renegade tendril of pastel disobedience, leaning more comfortably on one hand that spread artistic fingers through the plush down of the quilt.

“Wanted to see my baby.” The younger man’s eyes flashed toward the doorway, fingers surrendering the forgotten brush to the luxury of the carpet below.

“How’d you get past my mother?” Pearly whites flashed virilely as the figure bent to retrieve his lover’s discarded article, hand sliding suggestively down the impressive muscle of his counterpart’s thigh. Straightening to liquid pools of lascivious sable, a wicked gleam slashed mischievous indigo through the pure periwinkle of his eyes.

“Does it matter, love? I’m here now…and we have time before the ceremony…” The Son’s meagre protests were sacrificed to the moist cavern of tender carnality that ravaged his own willing lips. A soft growl of assertion, broad hands on his shoulders, and the pastel demi-Saiyan was forced to reluctantly relinquish his fixation before he was fully able to appreciate the delicacy that was his more refined lover.

“You want to fuck me on god’s bed?” A shoulder jerked his indifference before his determined mouth sought its interlocking companion. Hell, he didn’t care if it was his father’s bed; the young sovereign just knew he’d never live through the next few hours if he didn’t get a taste of those succulent lips that parted so enticingly in invitation…

The darker man didn’t struggle as Trunks guided them both toward the immaculate headboard, one knee lodged firmly between his young lover’s thighs as his hands tangled around the thin material barrier that wrapped around the man’s wrists, thumb seducing a beautiful moan from a throat arched backward with indulgent lust.

“You taste like mint,” the Son murmured quietly, mouthing the sensitive curve behind the lavender haired demi-Saiyan’s ear as his fingers curled and fisted against the reverent ministrations of his patient counterpart.

“Needed a cigarette,” the older man responded against the rising and falling of his lover’s chest, bathing the creamy pallor with the tedious strokes of his worshipping tongue. Kami, his flavour was divine; vanilla and musk, with a light permeance of soap and aftershave…must’ve just showered…

“Oi! Go-” Lusty eyes of deepening midnight and sharpening dusk flew upward at the jingle of the door handle; the hastily offered announcement, the sudden presence of the eldest Son in the entryway, large hand clasping the crystal knob that should have been locked…

The blushing prince wasn’t all too sure when his hands had descended to his lover’s sash, when the man beneath him had managed to undo his belt buckle and snapped the binding that kept his silken hair from spilling over his shoulders. Sitting upright on his counterpart’s waist, the man skilfully avoided hitting his head on the crossbeams that canopied above him. Thank Dende the last Kami had been taller…

“Goku-san!” Cobalt spheres blinked in avid surprise as the man’s brow drew down in a gesture of severe chastisement.

“Trunks…you know you’re supposed to wait to see each other…” The form that lay so temptingly below him stirred, shifting forward to prop both elbows behind him.

“Gomen nasai, tousan…we were just…uh…” Kami, he was cute when he chewed his lower lip like that…

“I know what you were about to do. Now scram, Trunks. He has to get ready, and so do you.” Nodding solemnly, the older demi-Saiyan heaved a lengthy sigh, pulling forth a smile for his counterpart as the darker haired man promised him reconciliation with a wink. Throwing his legs over the side of the majesty of the bed, the resigned prince began slipping his belt back into place, ducking his head to overcome the overhang of frills and lace that comprised the canopy. Who the hell decorated…Oh. Right. Popo.

“Is he here yet?” The fairer demi-Saiyan asked with latent hope as he approached the older Saiyan, fingers still fumbling to fasten the clasp at his waist. Apologetic eyes hardened within seconds of their silent declaration, that infamous Son determination shining like the very light of god himself.

“No…but he’ll be here if I have to knock him out and sling him over my shoulder.” Finding humour in the image, the Saiyan heir chuckled, trailing a slim hand through his long lavender locks. Damn it, now he’d have to find another tie before…

“Leave it down,” the request was quietly spoken from the bed, a glance over his shoulder testing his flimsy resolution. Kami, the man was amazingly seductive…his shirt slipping the slightest way down the muscle of his shoulder, his evocative eyes proclaiming with unabashed assurance that their play would continue after…

“Hai…here.” Reaching into the depths of his pants pocket, the blue eyed bishounen withdrew a small package that crinkled as his fingers flipped open the soft paper latch. Smacking out one of the thin, minty cigarettes onto the back of his hand, the young Ouji flicked the cylindrical object of his addiction toward the bed, chancing a grin as the other man caught it with a knowing look. “You’ll need that later…”

“Hai…” Kami save him, but it was hard as hell to leave the room, to walk past the confused form of his lover’s father and not shove the Saiyan back through the entrance, seal the lock, and lose himself to that ebony embrace of soft lips and muffled cries…

Soon, he soothed the irrational craving with tempered patience, gluing light eyes to the reflective white of the floor before him. He’d waited this long…a few more hours was hardly going to kill him. Pausing in the shadow of the door, the unwilling demi-Saiyan lifted a hand to the frame, snagging those wide, wondering eyes over the ball of his shoulder, feasting on their decadence for another luxurious moment, then succumbing to the will of the watchful Saiyan and departing…but not before he blew the kneeling figure on the bed a kiss of suggestion…and promise…

Later, lover…

***

Scooting to the edge of the bed, the demi-Saiyan exhaled a soft sigh, fingers caressing the fragile item in his hand; bringing it to his nose. Taking a deep indulgent breath, the raven-eyed Son met the sparkling indigo of his counterpart. Kami, how he loved the scent…mint and nicotine…so him…He lay the reminder gently on the furniture, turning toward the mirror that held all the presence of a fairy tale made real.

Mirror, mirror on the wall…

Although…today was saturated with that sentiment. He never would have thought to stumble on his prince, but here he was, completely smitten and only hours away from…

A flower of a smile burst its anticipatory petals over his youthful features as the door clicked shut. It was almost time…Gripping the hem of his shirt, the dark haired man jerked it over his head in one fluid motion, tossing it carelessly over the chair situated before the bureau. Though why god needed a mirror was beyond him…

“I didn’t think you smoked…” His cheeks almost ached with the extent of his happiness. Arching brows toward his puzzled elder image in the glass before him, the Son removed his sash; the dark, worn fabric pooling around his feet, a colour so close to his hair…

“I don’t, Otousan.” Stepping free of the material, the young man reached for the slacks he had previously and meticulously draped over the top of the looking glass; giving them a preliminary shake, one foot sliding down the smooth charcoal shaft to be swiftly joined by the other. Tugging the slick garment over his slender hips, the demi-Saiyan hummed quietly to himself, quirking a sunny smile at his father as he sat heavy on the bed behind him.

“Huh…” Shrugging, the older Saiyan rubbed idly at the back of his neck, pulling at his starched collar. “Damn this thing is hot…don’t know why I can’t wear my gi…”

Laughing softly at the constancy of the eldest Son, the demi-Saiyan stretched his arm through the cool, smooth material of his fanciful shirt; the most formal thing he’d worn since high school. Ok, so that was two years ago, but those seven hundred and thirty days had been the most enjoyable of his entire life. Ever since Trunks had swept him, almost literally, off his feet…

“You know kaasan would kill you, tousan. I don’t care either way. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear anything else, come to think of it…” Abandoning his buttoning task, the younger Son joined his fiddling father on the bed. Glancing sideways, the demi-Saiyan gnawed in concentration on his lower lip. “Still no sign of Vegeta-san?” The change in his full-blooded counterpart was amazing to behold, childlike eyes of wondering ebony crystallizing to obsidian shards; the fingers at the opening of his powder blue suit falling to lie clenched in his lap.

“No…I’ve searched for his ki, but the little bastard’s managed to hide himself.” A veined fist slammed with untapped fury into the Saiyan’s opposite palm, sable brow drawing down over eyes of unyielding ebony. “I don’t know why he has to be so stubborn all the time. It’s not like it’s everyday his son gets married.” A mutual growling sigh was shared in the emptiness of the expansive chamber, the demi-Saiyan casting weary eyes to the gilded lace of interwoven seams on the taunt material above him.

“It means so much to him…I wonder why Vegeta-san’s being so difficult…” A broad, familiar palm rested heavily on his satin-clad shoulder, persuading the young man’s gaze downward.

“I don’t pretend to know, Go-chan,” The man smiled at the affectionate title not bestowed upon him since chibi-hood. “But you know you have my blessing, ne?” Kami, damn it…he was not going to cry, not today of all days…

“Hai, daddy,” he whispered hoarsely, accepting the other’s fierce embrace with a hearty squeeze of his own. “Arigato…” Sniffling as he drew back, the younger man wiped at the scalding tears that dried on the high planes of his cheekbones.

“No problem,” Goku’s eyes discarded their Saiyan sheen as they dropped down into his lap, fingers plucking at the thick blue material of his blazer. “I know I haven’t been the best father, Go-chan…” The smile tightened as the raven-haired lad fought the compulsion to allow more of those salty drops to congregate. Gently placing his emotion-trembling hand on the larger Saiyan’s light blue sleeve, the demi-Saiyan curled his fingers, offering his silent support to the contemplative man at his side. “But I’ve always been proud of you.” Dark eyes that had given him life rose resolutely, impounding his statement into their tearful replica. “You know that, right?”

“Hai, Otousan.” The words were spoken softly, yet with traditional Son conviction.

“And even if I wasn’t there…” The shame was evident by the slight drop of his head, the regret that tainted his words like the metallic veil of oil on water.

“Otousan…” Hopeful, yet resigned, the man lifted his mussed obsidian head. Heh, no matter how much taming gel his mother wrestled into his mane, Son Goku was Saiyan first. There was no such word as tame, in regards to anything about the man. “It’s alright. I know.” Golden and pure, like sunlight on snow, the older man broke into smile, crushing his boy in another breath depriving hug that left the demi-Saiyan light headed and light hearted. “O…tou…san…crushing…me…”

“Oi! Gomen na, Go-chan!” Innocence revealed by the hand swallowed in the mass of sable was enough to banish the last sweet tear.

“S’ok, tousan…” Liquid eyes of inquisitive onyx swept the room as his father moved to stand. “Oi, where’s Otoutochan? I thought he’d be here…” The Saiyan planted both palms down on his knees at he strained to raise his considerable bulk.

“Out helpin’ Chichi with the food ‘n flowers n’ stuff.” Wrinkling his brow, the younger Son began to challenge his shirt anew; voicing his irritation in soft, censored curses as the evasive plastic disks slipped through his large Son hands.

“Still insisted, ne? We told her it was no trouble…” An uncharacteristic snort vied for his attention, and his shirt was left for another round.

“You know your mother…She and Bulma have all but said ‘I do’. You’d think it was their wedding…” Blinking into the unsatisfied darkness of his father’s usually bright eyes, the younger man scrutinized the other’s guarded features. Son Goku just hadn’t been himself lately; both he and his fiancé had noticed – lacklustre black had replaced the energized ebony, and it seemed that the only time he was known to show any kind of interest nowadays was in the company of Vegeta.

Vegeta…oi, could he…nah…

“Is everything alright with you and kaasan, tousan?” The question was tossed cautiously into the void between them, the demi-Saiyan feeling for the brush that lay solitary on the sea of wrinkled blankets beside him. He’d have to straighten the bed before Dende came back or the Namek would think that he and Trunks had –

“Fine.” Lie. “Why?” Shrugging, scratching the course bristles against his opposing palm, the man pulled one leg up under him on the mattress.

“I dunno, tousan…” Dende, he’d just taken a shower, it shouldn’t have been this much of a task to get a bloody brush through his hair. “You just seem…” He gestured absently, combing the air for the word he sought to describe his parent’s decline in mood, “Kinda distant lately. Like you’re not happy…” Keen raven eyes regarded him with quiet understanding. “Is it Vegeta-san, tousan?” He honestly didn’t expect such a violent reaction. The man all but went Super Saiyan right before his stunned and staring eyes.

“Nani?! No! It has nothing to do with that arrogant, egotistical, self-absorbed…” Chuckling, finishing the brisk stroke through his uncooperative hair, the younger man nodded tolerantly as his father ranted on about the idiosyncrasies of a man he absolutely despised. Abhorred. Couldn’t stand.

Right.

“Well, tousan…”

“Son.” Both pairs of answering eyes flickered toward the doorway, heads tilting in question as the caped figure remained statuesquely in the wooden frame.

“Hai, Piccolo-san?” Goku was the first to respond, the other’s gut tightening in an apprehensive fluttering of butterflies and gooseflesh that left him pale and inbreathing.

“It’s time.” Kami-sama, but the stoic Namek could make even ice cream sound ominous. What a gift.

And then the words sunk in.

Time.

Now.

“Nani?!” The Son shot to his feet, head smacking mercilessly against the border of the bed. Who the hell put a damn canopy on god’s bed — when in hell did the little man find the time to even sleep? Clutching his throbbing head, the man cracked open one irate eye. “But I’m not ready! I have to get my shoes, and my shirt, and -” The man felt with frantic fingers along the crown of his head, wincing as they encountered the site of his recent collision. “Where the hell are my glasses?!”

Piccolo strode purposefully into the room, white fabric billowing with the force of his own wind; a whip snap of sound, a quiet rush of mystic air.

“Boy.” Clawed fingers gripped his shoulders and his head jerked heavenward to gaze in blank panic at the taller form. “You don’t wear glasses.”

The words reclined on the disbelieving ruby of his boyish embarrassment.

“Oh. Right.”

“Loosen up, ne?” His father’s ever-present plastered happiness was once again in place, his jesting words twirling in the whirlpool of his own anxiety. It was too soon, he’d thought he’d had more time to prepare, to get ready, to breathe, god Kami-sama…

And damned if he could get the traitorous buttons on his shirt to obey his desperation!

“Button, damn you!”

“Baka.” Nimble fingers were agile and efficient in their gloved glory, leaving the boy dumbstruck and silent as the sudden appearance of the Saiyan no Ouji eliminated the obstacle with no obvious effort.

“Vegeta, where -”

“Leave us.” The two men that flanked him eyed the newcomer with blatant distrust, though the Namek only grunted his agitation before pivoting where he stood and giving the trio his wind whipped back. His father, however, seemed in no mood to take orders from his “high prince”.

“Damn it, Vegeta, where the hell have you been? Trunks -”

“I have already spoken to the boy, Kakarott; I have no obligation to explain my actions to you!” The prince dismissed the seething figure with a derisive jerk of his head. “Now leave us!” He would have gladly retreated himself had the Ouji not maintained a firm grip on his partially buttoned attire; shocked eyes flashing from one obstinate form to the other, waiting for the dazzlement of fireworks they had strictly declined as part of the ceremony.

“Fine. Have it your way, you spoiled little brat.” Onyx eyes widened in indignation, the elegant fingers entwined in his shirt fisting, tightening…cutting off his…air supply…

“Ve…ge…ta…sa…ma…” But Saiyan eyes were locked in a stubborn clash of titan will, neither yielding to the staring power of the other. Kami, he was going to die…fingers pawed at the flexing might of white in his shirt, dazed eyes blinking back the darkness that championed the prince like a royal crest. “One…gai…” Damn it…well, at least he wasn’t going to die a virgin…

The hand relented abruptly, the demi-Saiyan falling back on his heels; clasping at the offending wrist now to maintain his awkward balance. There were too many brilliant sparkles igniting in his vision for him to witness his father’s departure, signified to his gradually illuminated consciousness by the shuddering slam of the bedroom door that had ancient plaster raining from the ceiling.

“Hn. Bakayaro.” The younger man’s eyes focused with reluctant clarity, starting backward as the wrathful little Ouji turned his iron gaze forward. “Now listen up, brat. I’m only going to say this once.” Swallowing hard at the malicious tinge of outright threatening that permeated his perpetual rage, the Son nodded mutely, unable to contradict the inflexible will of the Saiyan sovereign.

“You hurt my boy,” a violent jerk adjusted his skewed and botched attempt at buttoning. “You break his heart…” Ebony eyes widened with unnerving understanding as the petite prince continued to manipulate his maniacal clasps. “And I’ll break every,” the Son almost lost his balance as he was wrenched forward, “Bone,” those slender fingers crept up his front with all the speed of a weaving spider, “In your,” he was almost insanely positive that his brows had ascended into his hairline, “Body.” The Saiyan no Ouji’s deft ministrations ended, slipping the single button on his straight collar home; the gloved tips curling under the hem and commanding the figure to eye level. “Twice,” Vegeta hissed through savage, flawless teeth. “Understood?”

If it had been hard to breathe before, the thought itself was a completely foreign concept to the Son now that he was nose to nose with the undeniably protective father of his soon to be mate. Guess it was true…you just don’t fuck with royalty…

“H-hai, Vegeta-sama! Hai!” Nodding as much as movement was allowed in his confined state, the younger man’s sincerity was evident by the width of his eyes and the tremulous whatever-you-say-please-don’t-kill-me tone that was readily applied to his ghostly countenance.

“Good.” The fingers at his throat unfurled with a promptness that had the demi-Saiyan staggering back against the chair behind him, hand slipping along the back as the digits fought for purchase over the forgotten garment. Saved by his own dexterity, the young man began to haul himself to his feet as he warily watched the older Saiyan caress his hairless chin in thought. Seeming to kick the ass of his internal conflict, the arrogant prince turned stern; hooded eyes upon his future son-in-law. “Get off the floor, boy. If you’re going to be the mate of a prince of Vegeta-sei, you’re damn well going to act like it.” Somehow finding the nerve to portray his acquiescence, the demi-Saiyan swallowed with difficulty, straightening his collar with a dignified hand.

“Gomen nasai, Vegeta-sama…” He’d never seen the man behave like this before – he never would have thought the prince to care about his ‘bastardized human offspring’ enough to actually go to such an extreme…

“Don’t apologize, just get off your ass. I have something to give you.” Furrowing a wondering brow, the boy gained his precarious footing; taking an uncertain stride toward the shorter Saiyan.

“Nani…” Onyx chips glittered in undisputable authority as the self proclaimed prince drove a covered hand into the depths of his worn navy shirt, emerging a moment later with a studiously folded piece of blue lined notebook paper.

“Here.” The multi-creased and crumpled page was thrust before his glossy raven eyes, a hand reaching upward of its own volition to receive the object before the Saiyan again crossed his arms, scowl locked in place, muttering annoyances as the other man quietly revealed the treasure within.

“Nani…?” Thin and black, the words crawled in a confident diagonal tilt across the pleats of the paper, and it took a moment for the demi-Saiyan to decipher the content of the message.

I will defend your honor…

Holy Kami fucking Dende.

“It’s what you asked for.” The statement was gruff, the aristocratic profile uncompromising as his deliverance was devoured by the enrapt obsidian eyes of his taller companion.

“Hai…” Breathless. Kami, he was breathless and grateful l- if he had been a braver man he would have hugged the Saiyan prince. “Domo arigato gozaimasu, Vegeta no Ouji…”

An onyx brow quirked suspiciously at his formality, gaze flickering down to the document held loosely in the demi-Saiyan’s grasp. “Just don’t fuck it up,” was all the welcome he was bestowed before the irritated Ouji stalked toward the door, kicking through the chalky white evidence of his father’s prior passage. Kami-sama, he prayed that Dende was a forgiving god…

“And kid…” The Son blinked dazed eyes upward at the mockingly playful tone, shaking his head to better concentrate on the man who clasped the glass handle of the grainy door.

“Huh?”

“Don’t forget to zip up your pants.”

***

The younger prince’s regal head rose from his memorization with a jerk as the tell-tale tap and agitated click of his father’s boots resounded in the hallow hall of Dende’s palace. Drawing breath in deeply, revelling in the icy wave of pure minty relaxation that travelled down his throat, coating his lungs with their comforting tendrils, the demi-Saiyan reluctantly released the smoke with a sigh.

“Is he almost ready?” An abrupt nod was all he received, the Ouji’s unfathomable eyes conquering the shadowy tiles outward, through the opening of the domed building to look with guarded gaze at the spectacle his mother was making of last minute arrangements. Glancing over the paper in his hand again, the young sovereign unconsciously tapped his cigarette against his thigh, ashy flakes falling like tainted snow on the milky floor. Clearing his throat, the hand that held his addiction drawing once over his lips in indecision; Trunks brushed back a strand of palest amethyst. “Otou-sama…”

Shock was defeated only by the suspicion that lurked omniscient in his unforgiving eyes. Viewing the silence as a signal to continue, the demi-Saiyan cast down his stress reliever; hair cascading over the round plane of his shoulders as he toed the minute fire out of existence. “I…wanted to thank you again…” Coughing uncomfortably, cobalt eyes forced themselves to stand strong under his parent’s steely gaze. “For coming…for this…” His hand lifted the sweat-stained paper he held, other palm wiping his condensing nervousness on the stark white of his colourless khakis. Summoning a courageous breath, the lavender prince slid trembling hands into his pockets, refusing to relinquish the hold he had on the ebony eyes that regarded him so disbelievingly. “Domo arigato, tou-sama.”

“If you hug me, I’ll kill you.” The other man replied after a tense moment, arms folding habitually over his impressively muscled chest. Nodding in ardent agreement, crystal blue traced the obsidian path toward the entryway, listening as the muffled sounds of preparation reverberated against the arched ceiling.

The silence alone would have been enough to staunch his resolve…if it hadn’t been so familiar. There was something…companionable about it when it came to his father. Vegeta’s communication seemed to lie in his unwillingness to speak. The demi-Saiyan had become exceedingly adept at reading body language over the past few years…

“Oi! Trunks!” Ocean blue watched the giddy gait of his future father in law, a smaller version of his genius mother perched delightfully on one broad shoulder. A smile tugged at his anxious features as tiny, frill-enshrouded arms reached for him.

“N’chn!” Kami, that still got him…

“Oi, wait up, Bra-chan!” The taller Saiyan intercepted her destination with a patient laugh. “You don’t wanna mess him up, now, do you?” The toddler scrunched up her button nose, blinking at the stylized vision of her older brother.

“Look pwitty!” A pudgy finger emphasized her declaration with a stab that sent her toppling forward in Goku’s arms.

“Baka,” the Saiyan no Ouji scolded as he caught the floundering form, pulling her protectively against his chest. “How you raised two children is beyond me.”

“P’pa!” Her squeal was lost to the thick dip of cotton on their father’s shirt as he adjusted her squirming figure.

“Kiss off, Vegeta.” Periwinkle eyes turned uncomprehending sights on the docile Saiyan standing not a foot from him, hands fisted at his hips, onyx brow drawn over eyes too dark to belong to Son Goku…

“Why Kakarotto, I never knew…” Good Kami! Squinting his eyes the slightest bit, the demi-Saiyan scrutinized his insane elders. But the smirk on his father’s stern countenance and the challenging mockery in his fiance’s parent didn’t change. Huh, they weren’t fighting…they were sparring! How bizarre…

“Boys! No fighting!” Dual growls of irritation graced his ears as both Saiyans literally bristled, turning toward the interloping voice of the approaching blue-haired woman. Stepping backward further and deeper into the shadow of the building, Trunks chanced a grin of predatory indulgence. Better while they were occupied…that’s how he got away from the woman’s well-meant mothering the first time. Heh, maybe now he could find Go—

“Young man!” Cringing at the sheer pitch of his chastisement, his retreat was halted before the order to attack could even be given. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I…uh…”

“I don’t think Dende would appreciate you doing that on his bed, do you?” Great Kami-sama…it was a damn good thing crimson complimented his complexion so well…

“Goku!” Wincing visibly, the tall Saiyan raked a weary hand through disorderly ebony.

“Bulma -”

“Go play with your flowers and candy, woman,” the Saiyan no Ouji’s words were clipped and decisive as he pried the clinging blue bundle off his neck, turning his head to the side with a grimace as a wet, smacking chibi kiss was planted in the vicinity of his mouth. “And take this with you.” The woman was going to blow a fuse; he could already smell the faint acidic indications of her pending explosion.

“Bastard no Ouji!” Bra giggled with pure childish delight as she was snatched from the circle of her father’s arms and braced against the frustrated woman’s shoulder. Meandering hands automatically latched onto delicate blue wisps, finding no greater thrill than the pulling and sucking of the tediously styled strands. “Bra-chan! No! Don’t mess up Mama’s hair!”

Backing once more out of the awkward congregation, his flight was unexpectedly prohibited by the warm, familiar scent and limbs of his darker half at his back. Sighing softly as gentle hands caressed a languid path across the brilliant indigo of his button down, the paler prince was instantly deprived of the desire to care about any other fickle person in the room. This, this was constant, this was untainted and unbroken…this was what he lived for. Reclining his head back against the shoulder of his tender counterpart, Trunks breathed deeply of his comforting aura, the vanilla blending and merging with the heady mint of a cigarette newly lit…

“Miss me?” Sensuous words danced a whispering trail of heated breath over the curl of his ear and bright sky lit eyes succumbed to the darkness of his raven Son.

“Hai…” Conforming hands slid up to those interlaced at his navel, squeezing lightly as he simply revelled in the presence of his lover, the feathery kisses that twirled in heavenly mists of sensation against his neck, the strong body behind him that fit his back so perfectly…

“Good…” Chuckling as sable bangs brushed and tickled the moist valley of his neck, the demi-Saiyan leaned his head further, claiming a supple corner of questing lips…that at once responded to his fervent licks; fingers tracing the path of his buttons to stroke with affectionate dalliance on the distinct curve of his arched throat, the arm around his waist tightening, crushing his unresisting figure to that of his impassioned counterpart.

Kami-sama…everything he did, each movement of his sleek physique…seduced him…lips like satin, a velvet touch against skin bronzed by the fervour of a garish sun…

He had shed so many tears in anger and pain…

To feel them fall in happiness now was a relief.

He was home.

The dark-haired demi-Saiyan moaned quietly within the seal of their lips, relishing the intoxicating flavour of his older lover. The flesh beneath his caring caress quivering slightly as the man swallowed, lips closing with an adoring nip that had him falling in love all over again.

“Are you ready, love?” Kami-sama, he had never been so certain of anything before in his young life. This was bliss, holding his feline figure; feeling the gentle, subtle purr of contentment under his petting fingertips.

“Hai…” Blue…a shade recreated only in the earliest hours of the morning, before the sun was roused to shine; a hue so pure, so passionate, he was forced to remind himself to breathe…

“That is so sweet!” Damn it! It was so easy to forget that anyone else on the planet even existed. One look into those voids of liquid lapis and he was already too far gone to hope to do anything more than yield to the pampering of his senses.

Sooty lashes brushed against fevered cheeks as both demi-Saiyans straightened, fingers claiming fingers in a tangle of nervous perspiration. The young Son cleared his throat as he was tugged gently forward, through the gauntlet of staring eyes and toward the brilliance of shimmering sunlight that sparked off the polished tile.

“Let’s go, lover,” Trunks whispered quietly, thumb smoothing silken circles over the back of his hand. Bobbing his domesticated mane, the Son returned his quiet smile, finding it easier to ignore the mutterings of the older prince, the retaliating comments of his father, the incessant cooing of the woman to his left when lost within the antiqued ice of his fiancé’s benevolent gaze. I’ll follow you anywhere, Trunks…anywhere you want, my love…I’ll never let go…

“We are gathered here together to join these two men in the bonds of holy matrimony…” The Namekian Guardian’s softly spoken words were delivered to the ears of those assembled with the assistance of a gentle wind. Blushing against the attentive eyes that witnessed every anxious movement, the dark-haired demi-Saiyan fought not to fidget; obsidian eyes flashing upward to be captured and secured by cobalt counterparts. The amethyst Ouji leaned forward to snare his sweating palms, a patient smile tempering the rapid cadence that threatened to drown out the very vows that he had been waiting months to here.

Months…since Trunks had taken him to the beach, and in the shallow dunes dusted golden by a seaside sunset had asked the younger man to share his life.

Damn romantic.

Grinning at the snapshot perfection, the demi-Saiyan curled his fingers more intensely around their slender companions. Kami-sama, he was in love! He suddenly wanted nothing more than to throw his head back and absolutely wail his happiness to the entire blasted world!

“I understand you have your own vows you’d like to recite…” Blinking upward from the hypnotic blue of his lover’s ocean eyes, the demi-Saiyan managed a small nod, calling the hastily scrawled words to mind as he summoned a shaky breath. Gaining strength through the hands he held, the man licked his lips, waiting with baited breath for his lover to begin the ritual Saiyan vows that the taciturn Ouji had given them.

“I…” the lavender prince’s voice faltered and those light eyes dropped to the interlace of their clenching fingers. Resolve flickered in determined fire as Trunks’ eyes fluttered upward to serenade his own. “I will defend your honour.”

“Your honour is my life,” the demi-Saiyan recited the phrase with a bubbling of pride. He had not been raised Saiyan, and yet…this felt undeniably right… “I will uphold your name.” My prince, my lavender lover, my pale eyed Ouji…my everything…I swear…

“Your name has gained respect.” Slick palms and trembling fingers conveyed their mutual apprehension, the irrepressible excitement. Kami-sama, they were doing it, they were saying it…they were getting…married…

“My loyalty is unbreakable,” the raven eyed demi-Saiyan murmured sincerely, rocking forward on his toes; suppressing the drumbeat of nerves and pulsing of exhilaration that had his stomach swimming, churning…fluttering…

“My trust is placed with faith.” Indigo and violet, sunrise and sunset, all things beautiful and meaningful…Trunks…

“My life for your life…” Kami, he had never uttered five words with more conviction, never allowed so much raw, unbridled emotion to be displayed within his obsidian eyes…

“My pride for your honour…” A Saiyan prince’s pride…so much to give…

“With blood, I provide.” Blood, breath…anything…

“With passion, I protect.” Kami-sama, I love you…

“My Ouji.” My prince…

“My Shujin.” My chosen…

Commanding a deep breath into his lungs, the young prince gripped his counterpart’s hand with genuine adoration, pronouncing the Saiyan words carefully. “Kyo to ashita.” Today, tomorrow, forever…however long you’ll keep me, love…I’m yours…

“Kyo to ashita.” Kami he loved it when the man smiled…a brilliance unrivalled by even the magnificence of the midday sun on spotless white. Smiling into the ebony sparkle of ill contained emotion, the paler demi-Saiyan gave a playful jerk, receiving the other man with eager arms that wrapped reflexively around the sensuous contours of his waist.

“The bond has been forged.” The Namek formally proclaimed. But he never had been religious, and Dende’s voice was easily discarded in favour of the younger man against his chest, the figure whose fingers threaded readily through violet strands that slipped like silk in his hand.

“I’ve wanted to do that all day…” Warm breath and soft fingers…begging lips…His chest veritably ached with the enormity of his sentiment, hands splayed across the muscled terrain of the darker demi-Saiyan’s back as he leaned forward, nose kissing the tip of his lover’s, the temptation of his mouth only inches away…

“Aishiteru, Son Gohan.”

***

“Eww! Trunks-kun! They’re kissing!”

“Of course they are, baka! It’s a wedding.”

“Oh…” Brow creased in monumental concentration, the nine-year-old pulled in annoyance at his stiff collar. “I didn’t know there’d be kissing…it’s disgusting.” His older-by-one-year-and-three-months companion shook short violet tendrils, arms folded awkwardly over his chest; the sleeves of his awful brown suit prohibiting the stance from being even remotely effective. Goten knew he did it just to look like his tousan anyway…

“Long has the circle been a sign of eternity…”

“Oi! Goten!” The boy at his side held out an expectant hand.

“Haaah?” Black and uncomprehending, Goten’s dazed eyes stared blankly at the palm before him.

“The rings!” The youngest prince hissed, one pale blue orb trained on the questioning Namek.

“Oh!” Scrambling through the treasure horde in his pockets, the youngest Son searched intently for the two diamonds in the rough. Lessee…marbles, string, pacifier—huh? Oh, right, Bra…hair pin, flower petal, piece of…well, that was anyone’s guess really…Mighty Mask action figure, chocolate kiss – ewwwww…that must’a been in there awhile…

“Go-ten!” Sniffling, streaks of melted candy left in the wake of his wiping fingers, the boy titled his unruly raven head back and wailed.

“I can’t find ‘em, Trunks-kuuun!” Bottom lip trembling uncontrollably, he opened glistening onyx eyes toward his patient Oniichan. “G-gomen-na-nasai, Go-k-kun…”

“Baaakaaaa…”

“Uhhh?” Blinking back hasty tears, the boy’s mouth dropped slightly at the silver sight held triumphantly in the older demi-Saiyan’s hand. “Where’d you get ‘em, Trunks-kun? I thought I had ‘em…” Grinning like the trickster he was, the miniature Puck waved the glittery objects just out of arms reach of Goten’s grabby fingers.

“Uh uh. You gotta give me something first, chibi…” Flushed cheeks were instantly aware of their audience, lip bitten in the following heartbeat, eyes cast down toward his shuffling shoes.

“Nani, Trunks-kun?” The mischief-maker flashed a victorious smile, baring his cheek for the other boy.

“Pucker up, chibi. Right here…” Brow creasing in confusion, the ebony-eyed demi-Saiyan leaned forward to inspect the offered side.

“What’s wrong with it?” An amused chuckle brought his gaze to the mirroring image of his older brother.

“I think he wants a kiss, Go-chan…” A kiss? But that was disgusting! Eyes wandering over the assemblage, the wide-eyed Son swallowed uncertainly. Whatever you want, Trunks-kun…

“Hn. Don’t think I’m going through this again in ten years. Damn brats…” Trunks laughed quietly as his father scrutinized his younger…brother.

“Aw, c’mon, Vegeta…it’s cute.”

“Yeah, Kakarott, about as cute as your as—” The man suddenly went deathly silent, the instinctual retort backfiring in a blaze of ruby across the bridge of his nose. Scowling, the Saiyan no Ouji jerked his head to the side, blatantly dismissing the inquisitive stares of the two women present. It didn’t surprise the lavender prince that Son Goku’s gaze was plastered to the tile – Popo may have cleaned the place to perfection, but it wasn’t that interesting…

“Rings?” Dende’s prompt thankfully shattered the mounting tension between the two Saiyans. Kami, why didn’t they just kiss and get it over with?

“Yatta!” Slapping of small feet on the hard surface pulled a smile as Gohan knelt to receive the sticky form of his ecstatic sibling. “Got ‘em, Oniichan!”

“Arigato,” his mate murmured into the unmanageable mass of sable that topped his younger brother’s head. Candy coated fingers left their chocolate mark on the back of his counterpart’s shirt as the hug was returned and Trunks couldn’t help the laughter that tickled his throat.

Releasing the small smiling figure, the darker haired demi-Saiyan stood, fingers depositing a slim silver band into his awaiting hand.

“Aishiteru,” The Son declared softly, onyx fields of perpetual midnight mesmerizing; the cool chill of metal as it slid unchallenged onto his left hand contrasted beautifully with the warmth of his fingers as they coaxed the band upward toward his knuckles.

Kami-sama… Son Gohan…my love, my mate…why you saw fit to love me, I will never know…nor question…

“Aishiteru.” Trunks’ hands were less confident in their exploration, tips trembling with the magnitude of the gesture as the silver slid smooth and simply over soft ivory skin.

And then there were fingers in his hair, lips at his ear, promising him that the world would have to dissolve around them before they were ever parted again…

And even then they would stand strong through the tempest.

Fight.

Protect.

Secure.

Defend.

Kyo to ashita…

***

“Oi! Oniichan! Oniichan!” Both blissful men glanced up from their idolization of each other at the echoing call that sounded from across the Lookout.

“Nani?” His mate managed, his own mouth stuffed with those nifty little pastries his mother had made, despite her disapproval of his decision. Sighing softly, fingertips trailing with infinite care over the lavender littered collar of his counterpart, Gohan watched their younger replicas traverse the distance between them.

“We got you a present, Oniichan!” Goten sputtered out, throwing his end of their bundle to the ground as the youngest prince placed his with a tad more dignity at their feet. Swallowing the flaky bits and following them with a hearty gulp of bubbly – whoever sneaked this past his mother was a certified saint – the demi-Saiyan brushed crumbly fingers across his slacks.

“What is it?” Grinning like miniature madmen, chests puffed out like proud peacocks, the two boys gave a sharp nod of silent communication, grasping an edge of the brown sack between them and jerking the material upward.

Smoother than river rocks and shining like sunlight condensed, seven glittering objects fell with a rolling clatter, scattering among their feet like oversized pinball to finally rest in a haphazard design on the reflective surface beneath them.

And before either one of them could speak a dual cry was raised with chibi vigour to the heavens:

“Shenron!”

“I may have all eternity, but this is ridiculous…” The booming bass of the unimpressed wish master washed over their air born forms. “I will grant you one wish…now what is it? Power? Women? Men? World domination? Hn…more underwear?”

Chewing his lower lip in indecision, Gohan flickered hopeful eyes upward to his equally straining counterpart.

“Well…we have to wish for something,” Trunks mused, tucking a strand of that lovely lavender behind his ear. “I mean, they went through all that trouble…”

“Hai…” Sighing in agreement, the younger demi-Saiyan cast his gaze toward the ground where the two chibified figures of the newly married couple were excitedly analyzing the metallic emerald coils of the earth’s dragon.

“Would you STOP that?! It tickles!” A massive green tail slapped irately at a laughing Son who easily dodged the attack, peering out from behind another scaly mound. Sighing heavily, the frustrated dragon fixed both determining demi-Saiyan’s with a fiery stare. “Choose. Now. I was in the middle of my memoirs…”

“Ummm…” Unwilling to detain the petulant reptile longer than necessary, Gohan searched the air and ground frantically for inspiration. His mother and Bulma-san were busy with Bra…his brother and, heh, brother were still taunting the dragon. His father was sitting on the far side of the tower, watching the events with feigned interest. Vegeta-san…was at the other end, crossed arms prohibiting communication, and carefully avoiding eye contact with the other Saiyan…

“I’ve got it!” Grabbing his stunned mate by the wrist, the excited Son hauled both up to eye level with Shenron. “I’ve got it, Shenron! I know what our wish is…”

“About time…” The grumble of contempt was lost to the slithering sound of his thunderous shifting, chibis scattering like uplifted leaves on an autumn breeze. Settling back comfortably, the wish granter gazed with an interested eye. “Well…?”

Thrilled at his cleverness, obsidian eyes glittered in anticipation, fingers tightening around those he held; smiling at his inquiring lover.

“We wish…that our fathers could be happy.” A ridged brow raised, mouth opening to proclaim it so.

“But!” Trunks lifted a swift hand, intercepting the declaration. “We don’t want the world destroyed!”

“Hai!” Gohan was quick to catch on to his mate’s clever foresight, squeezing those artistic digits for good measure. “And we don’t want anyone to die!”

“And!” Crystalline eyes sparkled at his appreciation of the darker haired demi-Saiyan’s choice. “We don’t want them to kill each other!”

“Trunks, I think that falls under ‘no death’…”

“Huh, you’re probably right…”

“Hold on.” A tremendous sigh rent the air as the enormous form moved again, massive head dipping down below the circle of Dende’s Lookout. When it rose again, ancient silver spectacles perched precariously on his wrinkled green snout. “Alright…” Clawed fingers gripped a spiral bound pad with resignation, opposite hand sporting a chewed pencil the size of his old mentor. “Run that by me again?”

***

This was nothing but a waste of time. Damn human rituals called for a Kami-damned congregation of people to witness what only needed three souls to complete properly. Hn. At least they had used the vows he had given them. Showed his boy was more Saiyan than he had initially given him credit for. Well, not technically his boy. His boy was behaving like an idiot with Kakarott’s brat. Damn it…just make a bloody wish so I can get the hell out of here.

As though catering to his whim, the dragon’s voice rumbled through the afternoon air with a lilting finality.

“…world destroyed…death…” Blinking at the absurdity of the words, the Ouji straightened, body tensing in response. What the fuck was going on? Had the boy lost it?

“Vegeta…” Kakarott was beside him in an instant, Saiyan instinct igniting in his broad form like a supernova.

“…kill each other…” Power surged and crackled as his counterpart blazed to life like a hundred watt bulb.

“Vegeta…” Damn it, why the HELL do you have to keep saying my name…? Suppressing the excitement that shimmied down his spine, the Saiyan prince growled his irritation, calling the man to halt with a negative jerk of his brunette mane.

“…world domination…” Muscles coiled with feline grace under blue spandex, preparing to launch himself forward, to kill the cataclysm before the wish could be completed. “Heh…just kidding…” Huh? Vegeta’s disbelieving onyx eyes watched the two demi-Saiyans above give the reptile withering looks before continuing their list.

“Is that all?” Fervent nods were issued as the figures descended, hands still despicably clasped between them. “Very well…” Curious eyes of night and day turned toward him, expectant smiles adorning their mischievous countenances. What? The prince glanced behind him reflexively, then down at his training suit. Was there food in his teeth?

A maniacal chuckle reminiscent of his own death-dealing days prickled the skin on his forearms, his skin growing immediately cold.

“Boy…” he growled, lip curling over the pearly perfection of his teeth; suspicious eyes glaring daggers as every animal instinct he possessed screamed at him to flee, “What have you done…”

“Your wish has been granted.”

“Vegeta-sama…” Trunks watched in avid fascination as his father stiffened, eyes glazing over like winter frost on a windowpane.

“Kakarotto…” He was positive he had only blinked once but when his light eyes opened, the royal, diminutive bundle of anger was in Son Goku’s larger arms, muscled limbs wrapped like a constrictor around the taller Saiyan’s thick neck. And Goku’s hands…well, they were…holding him up…

And they were devouring one another as though they hadn’t eaten in weeks.

“Sugoi…” Gohan’s mouth had cutely parted in amazement at the unnerving display and it was enough to make the pastel prince forget the scene their fathers were currently concocting.

Or the enraged feminine cries that soon followed.

“Gohan, love,” he whispered, delicate pads gently guiding those sensuous lips toward his own.

“Na…ni…?” Abandoned to the skilful delights of a tongue too eager to taste to respond.

“Our honeymoon…”

Buttons were ripped, clothing discarded and halfway strewn across the Lookout before they ever even reached the door to the Room of Spirit and Time.

“Should we,” useless words interrupted by the suckling ministrations that left artistic hues of scarlet and indigo on his neck. “…tell them…”

“No…” A sharp nip left his concern in the hazy regions of desire as his fingers fumbled with the brass knob behind him. “It’s only a day…” Swallowing hard, the demi-Saiyan succumbed to the seductive caresses that held his earlier promise. Groaning passionately at his mate’s impatience, they teetered through the door, wooden frame slamming home with a roar.

Right. Only a day…

***

“Trunks-kun?” Mussed and chocolate covered, the youngest Son cocked an inquisitive head toward the spectacle across the way, jaw finishing the task given and making simple work of the last piece of rich wedding cake.

“Huh?” Inquisitive eyes of aquamarine crystal lit on his own nightly orbs.

“Why is your tousan kissing mine?”

“Nani?!” Goten dutifully ignored the rain of cookie crumbles that showered his tacky hair as his counterpart’s wide eyes centred on the scene.

“I thought the kissing was over with…” Huffing slightly, the Son turned his gaze back to more important matters, devouring another finger sandwich with renewed vigour.

“Make me a deal, Go-chan?” An ebony brow arched, cheeks in diligent movement as dark eyes assessed his companion. “Let’s never grow up.” Nodding enthusiastically, the boy swallowed, donning a classic Son family smile.

“Hm!” A sudden thought crossed the food-wrought haze of his mind, causing the boy to stop his actions completely. “But Trunks-kun…” The lavender haired prince paused in the process of claiming the sole surviving brownie, tilting his head the slightest bit as both boys stoically ignored the commonplace screams of their mothers.

Glancing reverently over the mounds of free delicacies marked with superfluous chibi-sized fingerprints…the stack of pretty wrapped packages that adorned the Lookout…the departing clouds that signified the wish maker’s presence…

“Can we still have a wedding?”

Artist’s Notes: This scene has a bit of intimate contact through clothes, but is rather hot. This is Future Gohan and Future Trunks, just to clarify, and happens in the midst of Trunks training. Many thanks to Lord Truhan for encouragement writing this pairing! I am using the timeline written by Lord Truhan as reference for this fan fiction.

*****

A half hour later Trunks and Gohan touched down near the slightly cracked dome of the Son home. Neatly small pieces of wood had patched the hole in the roof, and Gohan spotted the battered white car with the Ox king logo on the side. By now, he guessed his grandfather was helping unload the piles of groceries brought from the village that still bartered down the hill. Once Gohan’s booted foot crossed the threshold through the open door, he saw the movement of the two occupants. Behind him, he felt Trunks ki, hesitating to step inside. He could almost see Trunks staring at his black and white sigil on the rear of his vest rather then look inside at who was coming to the door to greet them.

“C’mon in, you’ve been here before,” Gohan glanced over one shoulder.

“Your mom and my mom are starting to sound too much alike,” Trunks whispered, rolling his eyes.

Chichi’s hands fluttered in her sleeves that seemed too sizes too large. She pushed them up automatically, and then spun around to see Gohan trudging through the door with Trunks only partly behind him. At sight of her son’s return, she clasped both her hands together and rushed up towards him.

“Every time you leave lately, I don’t know if you’re coming back, Gohan,” she began to lament.

“Hi Mom, sorry to worry you. There was another fight in Central and they needed my help…” Gohan began. Despite seven years of taking up his father’s mantle as Savior of the world, Gohan still faced his mother’s impending disapproval of his choice to fight.

“Now Gohan how can you run around playing superhero without a thought for…” Chichi began.

Just how easily Gohan smiled and shrugged it off blew Trunks mind. Had he become immune to his mother’s worries? He could tell with but a glance that Gohan was putting up a brave front, though he could peer through a minute crack to see Gohan’s eyes dulling slightly with guilt. Not to mention the clenching of Gohan’s fist at his side that he pushed behind his back.

“Now honey, let’s just be glad he got home in one piece,” the Ox King interrupted, slowly raising his bulk from the nearby battered sofa. “You know Gohan would go nuts here when there’s people who can use his help… and just because he says help doesn’t mean he’s always fighting…”

“I know, but I worry so much! You can’t expect me NOT to worry, Gohan!” Chichi bit her lip, her dark eyes the same shade as Gohan’s peering up anxiously into her son’s face. “And what will Bulma say with you dragging her little boy around like a sidekick!”

“He invited me home for some of your famous cooking. Space rations get to be a drag after a while,” Trunks neatly interposed, interrupting Chichi’s impending woeful barrage of reproaches.

“Don’t try to soft soap me, young man. I suppose I should be glad that you’re tagging along with my Gohan, because there’s very little chance he’d be fighting with you around… if he knows what’s good for him, as far as your mom is concerned. She warned me to make sure you two didn’t start conspiring…” Chichi waggled her wooden spoon at Gohan.

“Now Mom, don’t worry,” Gohan started, raising a protesting hand. Despite all the misery they had seen each day, a domestic confrontation seemed like a peaceful and welcome break for them both.

“If you’re worried he’s dragging me off to train, don’t be, ma’am,” Trunks appealed, his arms outstretched. “He just invited me over for dinner… and my mom thought you could give her some more of that antiseptic herb that you happen to grow in your garden. Mom thinks she can duplicate its formula in the lab if she has a sample…”

“And since I happened to be heading back home, I figured why not bring him here and kill two birds with one stone? Besides Bulma did need help on her newest project, right Trunks?” Gohan continued, tagging along the train of Trunks excuse. Not only did he fight to save people with his techniques bequeathed to him by Piccolo, but also Gohan would roll up his sleeves and nudge Bulma aside when she had overwhelming piles of broken machinery to fix.

That’s right. I can’t drag mom out of her lab except to eat lately,” Trunks chimed in.

“You can’t argue with that, dear,” the Ox King shrugged.

“That’s awful! Don’t tell me she’s not eating properly!” Chichi groaned, shaking her head and resting her hands on her hips.

“It’s okay, I help out when I can,” Trunks waved his hands across his face, giving a smile to dispel the continuing waves of tension.

“Well I do have an extra plate set just in case someone happened to come by after one of those awful attacks,” Chichi relented. “But both of you should wash up before you eat, and help me set the table!”

“All right Mom,” Gohan nodded, and then jerked his head in the direction of the bathroom, winking at Trunks. He nodded, and both of them made their way through the short hallways of the little home. In the distance, they could hear father and daughter continuing the same argument that always commenced when Gohan came home, and Trunks visited for dinner.

“I hope they’re not catching on, Gohan… I hate having you have to lie for me,” whispered Trunks.

“You know as well as I do that there’s nothing going on, right?” Gohan interrupted, though his nose wrinkled slightly. “Besides, my mom’s as smart as yours. Moreover, there ARE many different ways of ‘fighting’ that don’t always involve martial arts. It’s not a true lie.”

“But she said training,” Trunks mumbled.

“No she didn’t. She said conspiring. And how can we be conspiring if we’re helping your mother save the refugees?” Gohan whispered, nudging Trunks. Reaching past him, he opened the door to the washroom and urged him inside.

For a moment, Trunks wondered just what Gohan had in mind when he saw the small sink washbasin near the commode. A small shower stood in the corner behind the plastic garishly colored curtain.

Glancing at Trunks out of the corner of his eye, Gohan reached for one of the towels. He tossed it towards his student, who was reaching for a bar of soap. A fresh minty smell permeated the atmosphere as Gohan reached behind them to close the door.

“That shower curtain needs a few more batteries,” Trunks joked.

“Hey, at least it doesn’t need to be polished till you can see through it. Then again…” Gohan trailed off; half-chuckling at what he was thinking. Tugging at the bottom of his shirt Gohan pulled it out from where it was neatly tucked into the waist of his pants. Then he heaved the shirt off his head, revealing the dark midnight blue shirt underneath. Its sleeves came almost to the tops of his elbows. Across the front of it glimmered the bathroom’s overhead light, indicated a set of tiny interlocking metallic rings forming a layer on the outside like chainmail. Underneath it was a layer of soft cloth that absorbed sweat comfortably. Two shades lighter then it was the knotted blue sash and wristbands.

“Uh huh. But it’s still loud,” Trunks chuckled back. Smooth china handles were slightly cracked and marked with an H and a C, unlike the single plastic dial on the Capsule bathroom taps.

A quick twist of Gohan’s wrists later Trunks heard the thump of one wristband, landing on the tile floor atop the red gi. He moved to the side and blocked the flow of water with his hand plunged into the stream. Glimpsing Gohan suddenly tugging up on his shirt he shivered in expectation, only to feel a spray of wetness douse his shoulder and the front of his shirt. Trunks backed away, cursing at the water that suddenly dribbled down the front of his sweatpants.

“Says the guy who can’t use something as simple as an old fashioned tap,” Gohan teased, reaching around him to turn off the water tap. A sudden burst of inspiration crossed through his mind when he saw the wet splotches on his t-shirt.

“How’d YOU like to share?” Trunks laughed. Immersing his hand into the basin, he suddenly scooped it up and tossed it onto the unsuspecting older half Saiyan.

“Hey!” Gohan spluttered, droplets of water gliding down the blue weighted shirt. Half untucked it dangled lopsided across his hip. Trunks didn’t see that his hand was tucked behind his back at that moment until something much wetter connected with his face. Bouncing off the wet sponge then hit the wet floor with a smack and skittered towards the far wall leaving a trail of suds in its wake.

“Hey yourself!” Trunks responded, grabbing another handful of water from the sink to douse Gohan. Before it contacted Gohan suddenly dodged around and grabbed Trunks wrist.

“Better watch it, or mom will complain about getting the floor too wet,” Gohan whispered, his solitary arm suddenly pinning Trunks wrist to the sink. Trunks felt the warmth of his sensei’s body pressed up against his back and shivered with delight. Quirking his mouth in a smirk Trunks leaned back heavily into Gohan’s body. Yet he found himself toppling much further back then he expected judging from the room pitching to the left. A second later, he landed against something hard and solid with a grunt and was treated to a sideways view of the loud shower curtain he’d commented on before.

“Whoof,” Gohan gasped, loudly near one ear. “Damn wet floor…”

“Smooth move. You okay Gohan. Sorry about that,” Trunks laughed, feeling himself balanced across the sturdy form of his sensei. Judging from the way he landed, Gohan must have twisted his own body beneath when he felt them falling.

“This is pretty unfair,” Gohan murmured, voice vibrating through his chest. Trunks twisted on his side and craned his neck to see Gohan’s stern look. His strong muscular arm latched around Trunks waist, imprisoning him so he couldn’t move.

“Well don’t give me that look; I’m not the one who…” the lavender haired younger Saiyan began.

“The one who what?” Gohan asked simply. His hand tightened considerably, tightly binding Trunks atop him.

Trunks noticed the devious grin crossing Gohan’s scarred face, and realized he was far from angry. In fact, he made no move to push Trunks off him or get up. Rather he lay back on the cold tile, shifting his hand to clutch hold of Trunks shirt in his large hand. Trunks felt the water soaking into his skin and slid his other hand to tug his shirt up so Gohan wouldn’t have to let go.

“I’ll get that,” he breathed deeply, shivering at the rising and falling of Gohan’s chest under his side. Gohan released him so he could sit up in the other Saiyan’s lap and pull his shirt up. White skin steadily came into view while Trunks purple hair vanished into the tent of his shirt. Gohan watched it flutter to the floor, then saw Trunks eyes grow wide. A hand landed on Gohan’s bare abdomen, gliding accidentally over the smooth skin.

“Something missing?” Gohan glanced seemingly innocently up at his student.

Ivory skin flushed a pale pink beneath those blue eyes staring down where his palm lay flat on Gohan’s now bared chest. Just when had he removed the shirt, Trunks wondered? He marveled at the hardness of Gohan’s flattened muscle covered in slick olive skin. It was only a shade or two darker then Trunks, but the quality of it was distinctive. In comparison, Trunks skin was ivory flushed with a bit of pink. While he had seen his sensei shirtless before, lately it grew harder for Trunks not to stare longer then one normally would at such perfection. Now he could trace his fingers along the grooves of Gohan’s six-pack up to the solar plexus, and beyond. Lifting his arm Gohan rested it behind his head, dark eyes expectantly pinning Trunks there.

“Damn, he’s perfect,” Trunks realized. He felt blood pounding through his body, and a strange tingling along his now goose pimpling skin. The way Gohan watched his every move so intently reminded him of a predator waiting for an open moment to strike.

Also visible without the shirt was the stump of Gohan’s left limb. Trunks felt a pang of guilt to see the absence of what had been the mate of the strong arm that curled around his back. Various scars crisscrossed Gohan’s chest, radiating from the amputated bud over his left pectoral. Diagonal streaks traversed the six-pack of his abdomen before blurring into the pale olive tan of his natural skin. They were pink in color, the same hue of the scar tracing over his forehead down his cheek.

Trunks shifted back when Gohan’s eyes narrowed in concern. Did Gohan really think he cared about the scars? To Trunks, they were handsome, adding character to his sensei. Even the lack of an arm didn’t detract from what Trunks saw as perfection. There was only one Son Gohan, hero and savior of the shattered world. Only one that he admired and looked up to, who was his whole world.

“I don’t give a damn, Gohan,” Trunks whispered.

“What about, Trunks?” Gohan asked.

“You know what I mean,” Trunks answered, bending over to lightly kiss the tip of the arm stump. Gohan smiled sadly, squeezing and rubbing Trunks back gratefully with the acceptance. Although Earth’s population was drastically reduced, there were younger people who Trunks could desire rather than him

“Are you sure this is what you want, Trunks?” Gohan asked, glancing up at him.

“You knew how I felt, didn’t you?” Trunks inhaled deeply, kissing across the spider web of scars to lick his prominent Adam’s apple.

“I am pretty smart, thanks to my Mom always nagging me to study,” Gohan could not help bragging.

“Well she screwed up. You became one hell of a fighter anyway,” Trunks laughed lightly, kissing the tip of his chin.

Trunks warm body contrasted the cool tile pressed into Gohan’s bare back. He couldn’t keep his eyes off the smooth alabaster and peach skin covering Trunks slender arms and torso. From all the endless training, his once waiflike body now contoured with generous muscle. More like a cheetah rather than a tiger in build, Gohan reasoned. He himself was the enormous tiger, all solidly heavy, but nowhere near the build of his father.

Banishing his shyness trunks swung around and straddled Gohan’s hips. Somehow, it felt more comfortable, and he wanted to see the look on the other’s face as he explored the terrain lying under his slender hands. Gohan’s abdominal muscles tensed then relaxed, small pants escaping his lips to feel the light feather touch of the youth’s fingers rubbing over his skin. An unspoken challenge to Trunks to dare to explore and claim what could be his seemed to cross the gap between them. At least that is what Trunks sensed by staring deep into those bottomless midnight pools regarding him. Beneath Trunks pelvis, he felt something stirring to life, and blushed. Especially when he felt how pleasant it was against the bulge developing in his own sweatpants.

Ever so slowly, he shifted his hips forward, bracing his hands on Gohan’s pectoral muscles. A low groan escaped Gohan’s lips, causing Trunks to smile mischievously. Dark lashed eyes pressed shut, and he felt Gohan’s hips slowly buck upwards. While not forceful enough to dislodge Trunks from his perch, it was sufficient to catch his attention. A bolt of sheer energy tingled from his groin and spread like a tidal wave over Trunks young body. Experimentally he shifted his hips back and forth, so that their groins were tightly pressed to one another. Back and forth, Gohan tossed his head, gritting his teeth to stifle the moan. Pride filled Trunks, his blood pulsing hot in his temples. In the silence between them only the thudding of his rapid heartbeat sounded.

Was this another test, Trunks wondered. Did Gohan think he would lose his nerve so tightly pressed to him? He liked the feel of Gohan’s hips between his straddling legs, and simply shifted forwards a bit to immerse his hands in Gohan’s hair. Pressing the length of his own chest, he draped himself atop his mentor, feeling the urge to stare more closely into those intense eyes. He never figured Gohan would allow him to do such things, and was amazed at the sudden docile nature of his sensei laying there. His heart skipped beats, pumping something fiery through his veins, rushing to all parts of his body.

“I just want to know now, Trunks. I’m not exactly young anymore… and I’d be lying if I didn’t notice that in a few years you’ll be a heartbreaker,” Gohan answered.

“Shut up,” Trunks admonished him, slapping his chest lightly. “You’re NOT old. Are you going to give me some bullshit about being too old for me? Because I don’t care.”

“I should care, but I don’t,” Gohan murmured, leaning up to softly kiss Trunks cheek. “But you are still young…”

“So what? Gohan, this world is a crazy mess. The rules are different! I mean there are very few governments, rules that would stop or care. It’s not like they could arrest you for wanting to… for me wanting to be with you,” Trunks snapped, glaring angrily down at Gohan.

“No, that’s true,” Gohan answered. “I just want to be sure that you’re all right with this. I don’t want you to think you have to just because…”

“I don’t want anyone else. This isn’t a normal world. It’s not just because you protect me, and that you’re half Saiyan like me. I feel how I feel,” Trunks admonished him.

“All right, all right,” Gohan laughed gently. “You can’t blame me for wanting to know.”

“You always did ask too many stupid questions,” Trunks teased him.

“I’m the one who asks questions?” Gohan asked.

Cobalt irises dilated, staring at him from under the lavender fringe of hair. Gohan saw Trunks lips parted, and rumbled with delight when Trunks lay atop him, pressing their fronts together. Grasping the side of Gohan’s head Trunks angled his face to the side and brushed his lips over his mentor’s. To his delight, the kiss was answered with an opening mouth yielding to his questing tongue. As he had imagined doing for a while Trunks varied the slight movement of his head from side to side. Mapped the interior of Gohan’s delicious mouth, tasting the richness fully on his young palate while inhaling Gohan’s surging breaths. Softly Gohan moaned against his mouth, suddenly seizing Trunks lower lip between his teeth.

“Gohan, Trunks, are you still in there?” interrupted Chichi’s voice.

“Shit,” both chorused together.

Trunks flinched and Gohan cursed under his breath at the sudden pounding on the door. Whatever moment they had was suddenly shattered. Reluctantly Trunks shifted to the side and let Gohan sit up once more. Soberly they regarded one another.

“Mom, we’ll be done in a moment,” Gohan answered.

“Dinner will get cold,” Chichi’s voice echoed, partly muffled through the door.

Trunks was glad to see the disappointment and frustration wrinkling Gohan’s scarred face. Not saying another word to each other, they quickly washed their hands and faces for dinner before putting their shirts on once more.

Although Trunks felt the mutual frustration that crossed Gohan’s face, he knew from the gleam in his sensei’s dark eyes that there would be time for exploration later. Especially when he felt the solitary hand engulf his, squeezing gently. Shivering again with renewed delight, Trunks swiveled his head up to glance at Gohan once more. Only a small meaningful smile confirmed the volumes that the older Saiyan’s gaze conveyed.

Hands clasped, sensei and student strode down the hall towards the dinner table. No, Gohan reflected. Not sensei, but lover. Judging from the smile crossing Trunks young face, he knew the younger Saiyan shared his feelings. The future was theirs, and they only hoped there would be enough to explore what had been set afire between them.

Author’s Note: Written for Veronica’s birthday. Happy Birthday, Veronica!

I used repetition there because she’s old and has trouble remembering stuff. XD

Their Spotlight

“Trunks, if you don’t get your pants off and sit your ass on my fucking cock right now, I’m going to rape you through your clothes.”

“I’ve been waiting for an hour for you go say that.” Trunks said, reaching down to rip his jeans right off his body before jumping on Gohan—whose pants had met a similar fate—and straddling him hard.

“Aren’t they just so sweet together?” Chi-Chi asked Bulma, her eyes not leaving the two people whom everyone else was watching.

“They are, they totally are.” The other woman agreed, also avidly watching the scene.

Trunks and Gohan made out fiercely, as though trying to suffocate each other with their mouths. After some minutes, Gohan pulled back. “You’re not doing as I told you.”

“Sorry. But I had to taste you.”

“You can taste me while I fuck you.” He lifted the younger man up and took a second to aim before slamming Trunks back down on his length.

Trunks gasped as he was filled. It didn’t hurt; they had just fucked a couple of hours ago, after all. And yet he had already forgotten how much he loved it. “Fuck I love having you inside me, Gohan.”

“I just can’t get over it. This is way more…adorable than I’d ever imagined it could be.” Tien sounded uncomfortable even saying it, but beside him Chiaotzu nodded, then giggled as he caught his friend errantly thinking about what it would be like if it were the two of them over there.

There was more tearing of fabric as Trunks reached down and tore Gohan’s shirt from his body. “It should be against the…” He had to pause for a second as Gohan pushed into him again. “Law. For you…to wear clothes.” He was so fucking perfect underneath them, after all. It was a travesty of society that that body was forced to be covered.

“You’re the one…” Grunted Gohan, “who insists we get dressed when we go out.” He paused in his pounding for a moment to gaze lustily at his lover. “If I had my way, neither of us would ever wear them.”

“I just don’t want anyone else looking at you. You’re mine.”

“Actually, I think you’re mine.” Gohan punctuated this with another deep thrust, taking the breath away from Trunks.

Beside his brother on the couch, Goten looked away from the scene with a blush on his face. Everyone thought it was all cute and everything, and maybe it was, but it was so embarrassing…

So hard was their fucking that the very couch began to move slide along the floor as Trunks threw himself back and forth on Gohan’s cock, and as Gohan thrust ever higher, ever deeper inside his younger lover.

Roshi took in every detail of what the two men were doing, hoping that his sunglasses hid just how intent his gaze truly was. Normally he was all about the women, but this! This was worth a thousand dirty magazines. He would give up his entire collection of exercise tapes to have footage of what he was watching right now.

“Say it.” Gohan demanded suddenly, after a particularly hard thrust.

“Say what?”

“Say you love me.”

“I do.”

“No.” The older started pulling back, slowly. “Say it for real, Trunks.”

“I love you!” It was agonizing, the steady removal of Gohan from him. It was like amputation. He couldn’t bear it.

“Mean it, Trunks.”

Of course he meant it! He always meant it. “I fucking love you, Gohan.” Trunks panted. He would say anything, if it would convince Gohan to fill him again. “I’ve loved you since I was eight, when you fucked me senseless the first time. Now, do it harder, for shit’s sake!”

“I can’t believe it took them so long to get to it!” Yamcha said, to much nodding. “I mean, what took them so long?”

“I know! They’re so perfect together!” Puar chimed in from his shoulder.

Now they repositioned, Trunks resting his ankles on Gohan’s shoulders, his head on the floor as his lover plunged into him anew, hardly even on the sofa any longer himself. Trunks positively shouted in ecstasy, his cries filling the room as Gohan drilled him into oblivion.

“Why can’t you be more like that, Krillin?” Android Eighteen asked, whacking her husband on the shoulder.

“Ah, well it’s, uh…not really something I’m good at, babe.”

Trunks came violently, shouting Gohan’s name as he spurted his cum all over himself, belly to chin. Seconds later, Gohan pulled himself out and added his own seed to the mix, spraying the younger man with epic amounts of the stuff. They collapsed onto the floor, panting, both satisfied for now.

“You know, ‘Geta,” Goku whispered into his couchmate’s ear, “I know everyone’s here and I hate to be rude, but I haven’t heard or seen anything but you since you walked in the room.”

“I love you too, Kakarot. Now put that fool mouth to good use for once and kiss me.”

Goku did, and the whole room burst into applause at the climax of the scene nobody had been able to take their eyes off of all afternoon.

“I hate our fathers, Gohan.” Trunks sighed, glaring around at the room in general.

“I hear ya.”

After all, Goku and Vegeta were such a cute couple.

End

Happy Birthday, Veronica!

Author’s Notes:  There’ll be change in the P.O.V, it will go from Gohan to Trunks and then to me. `’These things here indicate thoughts. Gohan and Videl were married at one point but Pan does not exist.
The drive to the Black Forest was a quiet one. No words were spoken between the three passengers inside, and all there was to do was listen to the soft sounds coming from outside of the vehicle as they drove, watching the scenery pass.

Although Gohan wanted nothing better than to ask and pester Trunks all he could for the answers he craved, he just couldn’t bring himself to wake the sleeping prince from his spot on his lap and ask. He looked so peaceful there, and he didn’t want to disturb that, knowing that he needed his rest. So instead he held him close, still trying to get rid of the giant lump of guilt that had lodged itself in his throat.

Trunks had been so worn out, tired, weak and simply exhausted from everything that had happened that day and everyday over the past three months, that being in Gohan’s warm arms, comfortable and safe for the first time in a long time, caused him to pass out almost instantly after they entered the vehicle and took off for home.

Sleeping in Gohan’s arms was a lot better than sleeping on an uncomfortable damp floor.

The car ride lasted nearly an hour before Goten finally came to a gentle stop outside of his house. They could sense their mother inside but not their father, and the only thing that came to mind to explain his absence was that he must have gone out training somewhere.

Gohan kissed Trunks’ hair, but he didn’t wake him as he opened the car door and slipped out with the teen still in his arms. Trying to be as gentle with him as he could, as if he would shatter like glass if treated too roughly.

“I’ll get the door, Gohan.” Goten offered, seeing that his hands were full and trotting over to the front door to hold it open for him.

“Thanks Goten.” Was all he said as he walked in, heading for his brother’s room where he could put the sleeping teen in his arms in a comfortable bed.

It was then that Chi-Chi walked in from the kitchen where she had been cooking, a frying pan in her hand to defend herself against whoever had broken in, when she caught sight of both her boys. Gohan disappearing in Goten’s room with Trunks while her youngest just closed the front door behind him.

Her eyes couldn’t help but widen at the sight of Trunks, but just before she could go and pester Gohan for some answers, Goten stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. “Mom I’ll tell you what you need to know. Okay?” He asked, leading her back into the kitchen to talk. He knew that his older brother would like some time alone with his boyfriend, and he intended on letting him have that.

***

Several hours had passed since Trunks had finally been brought back home, and the teen still had yet to wake from his deep and peaceful slumber. Snuggling under the covers of the warm bed he was on while clutching at his pillow as if it were a stuffed animal of some sort.

The sun had set long ago, making way for the cool night air by the time Gohan’s father had made it back home. Shocked out of his wits to find that Trunks was actually back, and to also know where he’d been and what had been happening to him.

Their mother had been running around the house all day. Gathering some extra blankets for him to keep warm in, and cooking up a meal fit for two dozen saiyans for when he finally woke up as well as cleaning up to make sure he wouldn’t wake up to a “pig stye”. As she liked to refer to Goten’s room.

He’d been sleeping so deeply for so long, that Gohan took the risk of leaving him for a couple of hours to take a dive in the depths of Black Forest Lake. Stripping down to only his boxers and needing to change into a super saiyan just to be able to see through the dark water as he searched. Coming up for air only when he desperately needed it.

He just had to find those rings.

He pushed a few water plants out of the way to see the area beneath them, and frowned when he found nothing there. He was sure that the ring box had landed somewhere in this area, but he just couldn’t find it. And after nearly an hour of searching, he was starting to get more than just a little frustrated.

He would have cursed at his lack of luck, but instead all he could do was scowl as he decided to head back up for some air. Taking in a deep breath of it once he finally broke through to the surface. Shaking the soaked hair out of his face before letting out some foul curses.

“Looking for this?”

He whipped his head up at the sound of his little brother’s voice, standing just out of reach of the water with a cocky smile on his face as he waved around the ring box in between his fingers.

Gohan blinked at him on complete shock. “W-where did you find that?” He asked, hovering out of the water before approaching him. His super saiyan heat drying him off before he even made it over to take the ring box out of his outstretched hand. Opening it up to confirm that the rings were actually there, and he wanted to cry when he did find them inside.

Goten’s smirk never wavered. “I went in after it shortly after you threw it in that day on the docks.” He explained. “Figured you would still be needing it.” He got out just before being pulled into a grateful hug by his overly happy older brother.

“Thank you so much! Thank you Goten!” He cried out, forcing himself to keep from shaking as he turned his attention back to the rings in his hand with an arm still around his shoulders. Never more grateful than anything in his entire life, aside from the fact that he now had Trunks back that is.

“Gohan, try to calm down.” Goten said, knowing just why the rings were so important. It wasn’t that he couldn’t afford new ones, it was because he threw them in when Trunks was gone. “He will forgive you, y’know.” He said as soothingly as he could, but that was a little difficult since the times when he was needed to provide some types of comfort were few and far in between.

Gohan shook his head. “I don’t care! He can’t know!” He cried out, unable to stop the tears coming into his eyes at the thought of all the pain his poor koi had gone through, and what he could go through again if he ever found out about the things he’d said about him when he was gone. The fact that he’d given up on him, went so far as accused him of running off with someone else and then threw their rings into a lake…

He just didn’t want to put Trunks through anymore pain. Especially that kind. And a part of him was actually deadly terrified that he wouldn’t be forgiven. And he didn’t want to risk that.

Goten patted his back. “Well, if you ever do decide to tell him, then there’s no doubt in my head that he’ll forgive you. He’d understand that you were hurt, Gohan. You didn’t do anything wrong.” He said, pulling away from him and holding him at an arms length so he could get his bearings. An act that Gohan used to do to him when he was just a little chibi and was in some kind of pain.

“Now look,” He started up. “Go get the rest of your clothes, get dressed, and then go back home with your rings and propose, because I know you’re dying to!” He said, earning a grateful snicker from his oniisan. “Now go already.” He said, and Gohan smiled at him before turning around to the branches where he’d left the rest of his clothes. Goten smiling back as he took to the air, heading for home to help his mother with the cake.

***

Gohan didn’t bother knocking on the door before softly pushing it open, poking his head in first to see if Trunks was awake or not in the dark space.

After seeing him still laying on his side, his breathing even which indicated that he was still resting, he had second thoughts about entering the room to disturb him. But tried to force those thoughts out of his head as he opened the door just a crack more to allow his body to get in. Shutting it with a light click before padding over and sitting next to him on the bed. Trunks didn’t even stir.

He didn’t bother to turn the lights on, remembering how the light still hurt his eyes.

Leaning down, he placed a gentle kiss over his shut eyelids. As if that would make the pain go away when he woke up. He promised Trunks he would be with him when he woke up anyway, and he’d been sleeping for so long that he just couldn’t wait any longer to do this now that he finally had the rings.

Goten didn’t get nearly enough credit for getting them, he’d have to make it up to him later.

Laying down next to him, he kissed his lips in his sleep, waking him as he stirred.

When Gohan took his lips away, Trunks blinked his tired eyes up at him, only a little fuzz clouding up his vision but still seeing him rather clearly with how used to the dark he was. He mumbled a bit, and it sounded something like: “Addama doing ere?” Before looking around his surroundings with suspicion in his squinting eyes.

Gohan started to rub his free hand over Trunks’ side, trying to aid him in waking up. “You’re home, koi. Remember?” He asked, scooting closer to hold him, their foreheads touching.

Trunks blinked at him sleepily. “Oh ya.” He mumbled, smiling softly before snuggling into Gohan’s arms for the warmth they provided.

“G’night.” He said, trying to get back to sleep. Though even in his half asleep state he still couldn’t help but wonder why he was so tired. He’d gotten more than enough sleep the night before, but perhaps he was just making up for lost hours.

He would have been back to sleep by now, but Gohan was simply annoying enough to not let him do it. Shaking him awake again. “Trunks, try to stay up for a few minutes. I have something for you.” He said, earning the sleeping prince’s full attention at the idea of presents.

Said prince yawned. Blinking his eyes wide open to try and get some strength in them as he forced them to focus on Gohan’s face. “What is it?” He asked, bringing a hand up to rub the sleep out if his eyes.

Gohan smiled at him, taking the hand Trunks was using on his eyes before slipping one of the gold bands on his wedding finger.

Trunks instantly froze up when he felt it, taking his hand back when Gohan gave it to him to have a look. Shocked to find an actual wedding band on his finger and whipping his head back at his boyfriend as if to ask if it was real.

Gohan was just looking at him, expectantly awaiting his answer. “What do you think?” He asked. Hoping that he would say yes.

Trunks wanted to cry, unable to fully believe that Gohan really did want to marry him after he broke off their bond. “Of course I will!” He all but shouted, wrapping his arms around his delighted Koi’s neck who was more than happy to embrace him back.

Trunks felt him shift a little, a gentle hand grazing over his bite scar and a soft whisper in his ear. Telling him to hold still and that he loved him before the familiar pain of sharp teeth against flesh hit his senses. Biting hard until the flesh tore and blood spilled before being sucked up and licked clean. His scar was now open again.

He was fully aware that Gohan had just had a flash of all the memories he’d had since the bond was broken, and he hoped in the back of his mind that Gohan would know that he wasn’t ready to talk about them just yet.

Gohan must have sensed his distress with the newly opened one way bond, because he didn’t say anything, but the look of slight hurt and shock that covered his features using a simple frown told him that he did in fact see it all.

It was his turn next, and Gohan tilted his head to the side to give him better access to his scarred neck. Trunks wasted no time in baring his fangs before biting down as hard as he could. Gohan made a small wince of pain, but that was about it as he let the younger demi do what he needed to do in order to re-open the last part to their lost bond.

To his delight he could feel the bond as it completed itself and opened back up for them. But to his horror, he’d forgotten that Trunks would be seeing a lot of the things he’d said, done, and felt over the past three months as well, most of which had been either crying himself to sleep, destroying some room or another in his apartment along with every photo he had of them together, and then throwing the rings into the lake.

And judging by how quiet the teen was when he pulled his teeth away, not bothering to clean the wound he’d created with his fangs as he inched away from him, Gohan knew that he’d seen some if not all of it.

Gohan tightened his grip on him before he could get far, wanting to say what he needed to say as fast as he could before he lost him again.

“Trunks,” He started, his throat as dry as desert sand. “Please understand, I thought you left me. “I-I didn’t mean any of it, I swear I didn’t.” He choked, fresh tears in his eyes that he tried to fight off. But the dam behind his eyes must have broken because the tears flowed freely down his face anyway.

There was a silence in the air, which lasted for only a few minutes, but could have been an eternity for all Gohan knew. Shaking in fear and waiting for a response from Trunks who simply stayed dead silent. Until he eventually sighed before speaking.

“When I was back with tousan, and he told me how you wanted nothing to do with me, I was heartbroken too.” He explained softly, much to Gohan’s utter relief. “And if I had the means, I think I would have destroyed a few things too.” He added as an after thought, smiling up at his fiancé before reaching his face up to give him a soft kiss. Reassuring him that he was forgiven.

Gohan had trouble responding to it with how shaken he was. Finding it hard to believe how Goten had been right and how he’d been forgiven so easily. But he didn’t want to push his luck on the issue, so for the moment he let the subject drop and simply held him close.

***

I’m glad I forgave Gohan. Not that I wouldn’t to begin with, but when our bond came back, and the memories flooded my eyes and mind, I was more than just a little shocked to find all the emotions he’d been having about me since I went missing. And in the long run, I couldn’t blame him for having them.

He thought I left him right out of the blue the day he planned on proposing to me. I think that would piss off a lot of people before sending them into a fit of depression too. So it’s not like I can blame him for going nuts on all of our mementoes and every other thing we’ve gotten together.

I can feel his emotions right now, the happiness and relief that I forgave him, the content feeling he has right now by simply laying with me, and the joy he gets at the idea of being with me forever.

I know he loves me. There’s no doubt in my mind about that. So why shouldn’t I forgive him? In fact, now that I think about it, there’s nothing to forgive at all. He only acted the way he did because I was gone from his life, and that should be proof enough of his love for me even if we didn’t have this bond between us to depend upon.

He’s still shaking as I hold him. I don’t think I ever sensed these emotions in him all at once at such s high intensity before. It’s kind of strange knowing that I’m doing it to him, and for a moment I can’t help but feel a twinge of guilt before reminding myself that there’s nothing I can do about it at the moment aside from be supportive and let him know that I don’t blame him.

For thinking I had left him, for killing my father, and for taking so long in getting me away from him (Even though the last two weren’t even his fault. I can sense that he blames himself for them).

And that’s what I continued to do, right up until his eyes dried and he calmed down, chuckling a little at his own show of weakness and trying to hide his embarrassment for it under his hand. But I pull it away from his face, wanting to see his blush in the dark.

He looks good.

Gohan pulls me close again, almost the point of crushing me, but I’m sure I’m not holding back any better.

He sighs in my hair. “I missed you so much.” He breathes, squeezing me extra tight for emphasis.

I nod my head at that. “I missed you too.” I whisper back, feeling him kiss my hair.

I’ll never understand what he finds so great about my hair. He’s always playing in it.

“I have something for you.” He says, gently twisting around a few strands between his fingers.

I can’t help but blink up at him, wondering what else he could do for me all in one night. “Really? What?” I ask, and I can’t help but feel a little excited.

Gohan turns his gaze over towards the door, raising his ki just a little, as if signaling for someone to enter.

Sure enough, the door gently opens, and in walks Chi-Chi-san, Goku-sama and Goten. They all have bright smiles on their faces as Chi-Chi-san holds the cake in both her hands, candles lit on it as she slowly enters to keep any of them from going out.

My breath hitches at the sight of them, shocked when they start singing “Happy Birthday To You”.

***

I can’t help the bright smile on my face as I watch Trunks, the look of awe on his face that were going to be celebrating his birthday even though it passed months ago.

Yamcha, Piccolo, Tien, along with the rest of the fighters are all back in the livingroom waiting for him to get out of bed to join his birthday party.

Kasaan knelt down on the bed next to us, holding the cake out for Trunks to see. “Make a wish and blow out the candles, sweety.” She said, smiling brightly herself.

I looked at his face for the reaction he gave, loving the bright look on his face as the flame of the eighteen candles flicked light over his beautiful features. He took in a deep breath, and blew a small gust of air that swept over the many flickering lights until they all flickered no more.

All save for one.

“Aw, you missed one. That’s too bad.” kasaan said, looking at the lit candle with slight disdain.

/You missed one, koi./ I pointed out through our mental link.

He smiled at me, the dull look in his eyes that had been there earlier today vanishing right before my very eyes.

/I meant to do that./ He replied.

I raised an eyebrow at him playfully. /Really? Why?/

/Leave a candle lit on a cake and it means you have a boyfriend, but if you do it when engaged, it means the marriage will last forever./ He replied happily.

And I kissed him. Hard. Probably not the most respectful thing to do in front of my parents and brother, but I knew they wouldn’t mind too much.

A marriage that will last forever based on one candle staying lit?

Then I’ll make sure our fire never goes out.