His Teacher
by Awesome Incarnate     More by this Writer
Future Trunks came back to save the world. But really he only wants to save one person. One boy.

Author’s note: Chapter 1. Used to be a oneshot, now it’s a prologue. Beware the shota
Shota



Chapter 01: Teacher
The tension in the air was almost a palpable thing as young Gohan landed, along with Krillin, at the spot that could very well soon be the site of the greatest—and most cataclysmic—battle the Earth had even seen.

For Frieza was coming; everyone of any power on the planet had felt it hours ago. The evil tyrant, supposedly killed by Gohan’s father on the dying planet of Namek, was coming to Earth, and chances were that he was not a happy alien.

All of Goku’s friends were already there when they arrived, plus Vegeta, which was somehow not surprising, ready all to fight and die (again) if need be, for the sake of the Earth’s safety. Well, maybe the Saiyan prince, looking distinctly less regal in his pink and yellow outfit, didn’t care about the planet, but he would fight anyway, for lack of other choices. After all, the alternative was simply to die pointlessly.

There was no time for anything beyond basic greeting, although Vegeta still managed to snark at everyone in the short interval between Gohan and Krillin’s arrival and the appearance of the massive disc that was Frieza’s ship right above their heads. It soared through the air, passing them in an instant, setting down over a ledge not too far away.

Repressing their energy so as not to be detected, the Earth’s warriors walked, ran, climbed and fell across the rocky terrain that lay between them and what would soon be the battlefield. Gohan ended up almost in the rear, slowed as he was by Bulma, who was not the most physically fit person on Earth.

And so he was the one of the last to come upon a fairly miraculous sight: Another warrior seemed to have appeared from somewhere and challenged Frieza and the other, much larger, villain with him. And he was winning.

All he could do for the next few minutes was watch wordlessly as this man—though, as far as Gohan could measure age, he wasn’t really that old—withstood attack after attack from the tyrant, seemingly with no effort. It probably helped, of course, that he too was a living legend. A Super Saiyan, just like Gohan’s father. Frieza even tried to destroy the Earth, the same way he had with Namek, but once Gohan opened his eyes and stopped hiding behind Piccolo, he saw with some measure of amazement that the attack had not penetrated the Earth’s crust; it was just sitting there, as though being held up by the man it had supposedly just disintegrated.

Gohan was not the only one stunned into silence. All the fighters, even stoic Vegeta, watched in something approaching awe as the man emerged from the crater, standing in a pool of light from the planet-destroying attack and his own radiant energy, flicked the planet-destroyer away like lint and went about cutting Frieza and his father to pieces, all in about fifteen seconds.

The mystery man naturally found himself immediately bombarded with questions upon emerging from the crater that had so recently held the greatest threat the Earth had ever known. He answered few of them, not even giving his name, and told them he would explain when Goku arrived. He seemed strangely uncomfortable with all of their scrutiny, as though he was a child who had done something wrong and was now being interrogated by all of the adults he knew. Of course, it probably didn’t help that Vegeta and Piccolo were getting more and more suspicious by the second.

“Actually,” he said suddenly, trying to be amenable, “I’m thirsty. Does anyone want a drink?” He reached into a pocket of his Capsule Corp. jacket, and a momentary look of surprise crossed his face, as though whatever he had expected to grab wasn’t there.

“Oh! I do!” Gohan called out, not noticing the lukewarm response everyone else was giving. Whatever his father’s friends thought, he admired this man who had saved all of their lives. There was just something about him; Gohan thought he was cool. Bulma must not have cared either, since she also requested refreshment.

“Ah.” The mysterious man said, apparently disappointed that no one else wanted to partake. “Well, they must be in my ship. I just go get them…”

“I’ll go with you.” The boy said. This elicited a number of disapproving looks from Piccolo and Krillin, but it wasn’t as though anyone really held the authority to tell him not to do it. The nameless man looked even more uncomfortable about this, for some reason, but Gohan didn’t notice as he followed him behind a pile of rocks as tall as a building to where his ship lay waiting.

“I’ll get it out and pass it down to you, Gohan.” The man said, ascending into the ship. “There’s not really enough space for both of us in there.”

However, it became apparent a moment later that this plan wouldn’t be effective. “It’s stuck.” He muttered. “It somehow fell behind the seat; I can’t fit in far enough to get at it.” A sheepish grin had appeared on his face as he climbed down.

“I bet I can fit!” Gohan said, and without waiting for a response, clamoured up into the ship and started rooting around in the back, where the man had been looking. There was nothing that looked like drinks, but a small capsule case had fallen and was almost under the seat. He managed to shimmy in far enough to get it in his hand, but was faced with a problem. “Um…I’m kinda stuck.”

“Oh, sorry. Hold on, I’m coming to get you.” The sound of boots on metal, and the boy felt hands on either side of his belly. One quick tug disengaged him from his entrapment, and the man overbalanced and fell backward. Fortunately he remembered how to fly just in time to avoid a crash landing, and ended up floating a few inches above the ground, Gohan cradled in his arms like an infant.

“Sorry.” He repeated.

“It’s okay.” Gohan held up the case. “Is this what you were looking for?”

The stranger didn’t answer. He was too busy looking at Gohan. Not that he hadn’t been before, but now he was really looking at him like suddenly there was nothing else to look at. “Mister? Are you okay?”

A vague nod, and Gohan became uncomfortably aware that there was less space between them then there had been. The guy’s face seemed to be right in front of his; they were sharing air.

Still, the kiss was entirely unexpected, at least on Gohan’s part, when it came. The older mouth covering his, a tongue exploring the inside of his mouth like it belonged there.

Gohan’s initial reaction was to pull away, not that there was any room to do so, but he found himself staying, letting this happen. It felt…nice, in a weird way. He had been kissed a zillion times, by his parents, but never like that. Never so…thoroughly.

The boy was disappointed when the older man pulled away. He reached up and kissed back, trying to emulate what had just happened. Now it was the other’s turn to seem surprised, if not unhappy.

Finally, the man pulled away again and lowered Gohan to the ground. “We should get back.” He said quietly. “They’re probably wondering where you are.”

“Yeah.” Gohan agreed. The moment, whatever it had been, was over. He followed the older man back to his friends. “Can’t you at least tell me your name? Please?” He asked, forestalling the protest he knew was coming. “I promise not to tell anyone else!”

Indecision crossed the mysterious man’s face for a moment, and he looked away. “Uh…it’s Trunks. My name’s Trunks.”



“Stupid! Stupid, stupid! What is my problem?” Trunks berated himself in a whisper later that night. “A kid! Not Gohan, a little kid!” He had come to save the world, not molest his teacher.

He hadn’t meant to kiss Gohan. Not at all. But they had looked at each other, and Trunks had remembered…well, he had remembered his teacher, and seen him in the eyes of that little boy. It had been so long now, since he had lost Gohan…it still pained him to think he would never see him again.

Only he had seen him again. And his teacher didn’t know who he was, except perhaps for a child molester. He was such an idiot. The best thing for both of them would be for him to stay far away from the boy.

Which, of course, was why he had not really gone back to his time, not yet, but had crept through the woods on foot, not daring to raise his energy enough to fly, lest he be sensed, and was currently sitting under young Gohan’s window. To apologize to him, Trunks told himself. He was going to say sorry for taking advantage of him like that.

“I’m such an idiot.” He sighed.

“Why are you saying that?”

Trunks started. Looking up, he saw Gohan’s head peeking at him from the open window. Had it been open the whole time? He hadn’t noticed. “Gohan! When…” He jumped up, away from the house, and stood to face the boy. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“I wasn’t really sleeping.” Gohan said, in the tone of one imparting a vast secret. “I can’t. Why are you under my window talking to yourself?”

“I’m not.” Realizing that the automatic denial made him sound really stupid, Trunks amended. “Okay, I am, but, well… you see…”

“Do you want to kiss me again?”

“What? No!” Seeing the hurt look on Gohan’s face, he hastily explained, “It’s not that I don’t, but it’s really not a good idea. You’re just a kid.”

“So? You kissed me before. I was a kid then, too.”

“I know, but…it’s complicated.”

“That’s what my mom says when she doesn’t want to explain something.”

Trunks sighed. Even when he was seven years old, Gohan was still the same: stubborn and insufferably perceptive. “Fine. I’ll explain. But can we go somewhere else? It feels…weird to talk about this here.” He didn’t add that it was because Gohan was kneeling in the bed where Trunks had given him his virginity, wearing nothing but an overlong shirt and a pair of underwear. Not that he had noticed. “My ship’s not too far away. We can fly there in a few minutes.” He tried not to think the word ‘luring.’

“No, we can’t. My dad’ll sense us leaving and then I’ll get in trouble.”

Stupid! He’d forgotten—again—that he was talking to a younger version of Gohan, one who couldn’t just leave home in the middle of the night, who was still young enough to get grounded.

But still, he wasn’t worried. “It’s okay. Your dad’s a little bit busy tonight.” He had gone by Chi-Chi and Goku’s window on his way to their son’s bedroom; they were so busy with each other, Trunks thought he probably could have flown the whole way there and then re-enacted his earlier battle with Frieza right at the foot of their bed and they wouldn’t have noticed.

He doubted Gohan truly understood the meaning behind this, but he seemed willing to take an adult’s word—or his, at least—at face value, nodding wordlessly and leaping from the window immediately.

“Whoa, hold on.” The man from the future raised his hands in front of him and took a step back, like he was trying to ward something off. “Shouldn’t you get dressed?”

Gohan looked down at his attire for a moment before giving Trunks an odd look. “But…it’s nighttime.”

“I know, but…” He forced composure upon himself. He was the adult in this situation; he would take charge. “You should at least put some pants on.” He almost managed to make it sound authoritative, he thought.

“Don’t be silly, Trunks. It’s not even cold out.” And without waiting for a reply, the boy lifted into the air and started drifting away. “Come on, Trunks.”

The man from the future sighed, realizing in that moment that he would never, as long as he lived, be able to win an argument with Gohan, no matter how far back in the past he went.

He lifted into the air, looking down the whole way after the first brief glance up gave him an excellent view up Gohan’s shirt. Only when they were eye level did he allow himself to regard the boy. “My ship’s this way.” He said, starting off back the way he had come.

After the most uncomfortable few minutes of flying ever, they arrived at the top of the low grassy hill where Trunks had parked his time machine. They landed, and Gohan immediately gave a yelp and jumped as his bare feet hit the grass, wet with dew. “Cold!” He complained, jumping back up—into the arms of Trunks.

“I told you to put something on.”

“You said pants! You never said anything about shoes!” Gohan pouted.

“You’ll live.” He muttered, setting the protesting boy back on the grass and feeling a little satisfied at his small victory. And then feeling a little silly about the way he was thinking. He ignored that, though. With Gohan, he had to take his victories where he could find them.

“Well?”

“Well what?”

“Aren’t you going to explain it to me now?”

“Oh. Right.” Truthfully, he had been hoping that Gohan would somehow have forgotten about that in the intervening five minutes. No such luck, apparently. Stupid Gohan and his stupid memory.

“Okay, well the thing is…” How to explain this? How was he supposed to explain to this boy, standing there with his arms crossed, trying not to shiver, that they had slept together for years? “Okay, so did your dad tell you about where I’m from?”

Gohan nodded. “Uh-huh. The future.”

“Good.” Way to keep a secret, Goku. He added mentally. “So, in the future, you’re a grown-up.”

“Well, duh, Trunks. I already know I’m not gonna be a kid forever.”

Trunks closed his eyes for a minute and took a breath before continuing, telling himself that it wasn’t worth the world of hurt he’d be brining down on his head to strangle the kid. “Anyway. I’ve known Gohan, my Gohan, for a long time. And, sometimes, when you spend a lot of time with someone and become really close with them…”

“Oh!” Gohan interrupted. “I get it now. My mom explained this to me. You and me are married!”

Were it happening to someone other than him, Trunks would have found the fact that there were crickets chirping in the woods after this declaration to be somewhat hilarious. “Umm…well…yeah. Something like that.”

“So that’s why you kissed me! Because you forgot I wasn’t the grown-up me. Now I understand.”

“Glad someone does.” Trunks muttered quietly before going on. “So. Like I said, I shouldn’t have kissed you like that. It was wrong of me. I’m sorry.”

“So then why did you? Don’t we kiss in the future? Won’t I get mad when I find out you kissed me? ‘Cause once my mom was mad at my dad for a whole week just because he said Bulma was pretty. It’s like the same thing, right?”

Trunks felt his hand twitched as he again fought the urge to kill his future lover. “It’s not quite the same thing.”

“So it’s okay, then?”

“No! It’s not.” Knowing Gohan, he probably thought this whole thing was just hilarious.

“Then why…”

“I missed you, okay?” He hadn’t meant to raise his voice, but somehow it came out as a shout. “I just missed you.” He repeated a in a quieter tone.

“You missed me?” Gohan fell silent as he worked something out in his head. “But…don’t we see each other a lot?” Asked, of course, as though he already knew the answer.

“Not…not anymore.” This was not the way he had wanted to conversation to go. In all honesty, if he admitted it to himself, he had just wanted to see Gohan again, one more time. He hadn’t wanted to remember, not now, not this.

“I’m dead.” It wasn’t a question, but Trunks nodded in affirmation. Gohan looked away mutely.

“It was a couple of years ago.” He almost whispered, closing his eyes. “You were protecting me. You didn’t make it.” Tears gathered at he edges of his eyes as he spoke, falling silently down his face and onto the grass.

Just like as an adult, Gohan chose to respond with action rather than words. The hug managed to catch Trunks by surprise, nearly knocking him from his feet. “Gohan!”

“It’s okay, Trunks.” The boy said, not loosing his grip around the man’s midsection. “It wasn’t your fault.”

It was silly, ridiculous even, but that small attempt at reassurance broke something inside Trunks; before he realized it, he was crying harder than ever, his knees buckling. Because those were the seven words he wanted to hear Gohan say more than anything. Because it was his fault. He let Gohan hold him steady and lower them both to sit on the grass.

For a long while Trunks sat, just letting Gohan hold him. Just like before. Those small hands somehow felt safe, the soft voice calming him down, making him believe it would be alright; Gohan even smelled the way Trunks remembered. Eventually his tears slowed and he was able to sit up. “Thanks.”

“Are you going to be okay now?” Genuine concern played across Gohan’s face as Trunks pulled away from him.

“Yeah, I think so. Thanks, Gohan.” In a way, he did feel quite a bit better, almost like he didn’t weigh as much all of the sudden.

“You really miss him, don’t you?”

“I really do. But it’s going to be alright. I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

Trunks could have stopped the child, but something didn’t let him. Gohan leaned in and kissed the older man again, lightly, for just a moment. “Okay.” he said after, now shivering slightly. “I should go home, then.”

“Wait.” His mind was telling Trunks not to, but his body moved on its own to grab Gohan’s arm. “Can I…um…”

“What is it?”

“Can I…” Okay, stop. If he was going to be creepy, he would at least do it without mumbling. “Can I just hold you for a minute? Please?”

If Gohan found the request strange, he didn’t show it at all. “Sure, Trunks.” Was all he said as he held out his arms and allowed the older to embrace him again.

Gohan fell to his knees as Trunks pulled him down and hugged him for all he was worth, holding him as though the world could end right then and he wouldn’t let go. It took him a second to realize that Gohan was hugging him back, as well.

No words were exchanged for a very long time. The two simply held on to one another, sharing warmth and quiet reassurance that yes, everything would be alright; I won’t let go. Trunks didn’t intend to. Not again.

“I don’t want to die.” The voice was so quiet Trunks almost thought he imagined it, not even a whisper.

All at once, the man from the future realized what he had done and berated himself for a fool. What in blazes had he been thinking, telling the boy something like that? Now he had gone and gotten Gohan all worried. He’d been so wrapped up in himself that he hadn’t even though about what the other must be feeling, knowing something like that.

“You’re not going to die, Gohan. I won’t let them this time. I promise.”

“Really?” Gohan looked up at him, which was made awkward by the fact that he refused to loosen his hold on the man’s chest. Trunks nodded, and Gohan buried his face in his shirt again. After a minute he said, in the same half-whisper, “I promise, too. I won’t leave you alone this time.”

“I love you so much, Gohan.” Trunks forced himself not to cry. “So much.” He bent his neck to kiss the boy’s head softly.

Gohan tilted his head up and returned the kiss, lightly pressing their mouths together. “I love you too, Trunks.”

The moment seized Trunks, and he forgot where he was, who he was with, and just about everything except for how much he wanted Gohan. He kissed him back, harder this time, his tongue finding purchase in the willing mouth of the boy sitting on his lap. Without his brain to tell them to behave, his hands, already wrapped around Gohan, did some travelling. He reached further downward, and further, getting them under the boy’s shirt, and then moving upwards once again, past the his tight little underwear, to wrap around the bare skin of his back, lifting the shirt…

Abruptly Trunks stopped, guilt assaulting him as he realized what he had been doing. He pulled back, withdrawing his hands and murmuring, “Sorry, I didn’t…”

“Why did you stop?” Gohan whispered, running a hand through the man’s hair. “What’s wrong?”

“Everything. This. We shouldn’t be…you’re just a kid, Gohan.” Only seven years old, he kept telling himself. At least his Gohan had waited until he was ten. Well, technically speaking he had been nine the first time, but that was just semantics. “We can’t do this.” He firmly pushed Gohan off his lap, but the boy came back again to stand right in front of him.

“Trunks?”

“What?”

“Stop being dumb.”

“What?” Apparently, no one had ever mentioned Gohan’s age to him. He spoke like an adult. Not that Trunks expected any different.

“I like it when you touch me.” He stated simply, eyes locked on the older’s. “It makes me feel good. Especially when we kiss. Doesn’t it make you feel good too?”

“No.” Trunks said automatically.

“You’re lying!” There was the child: Gohan’s voice raised; he actually stomped his foot. “You just told me that we were married! So, we must have kissed and stuff before! Besides, you’re the one who keeps starting it!”

There was no decent response to that, really, since it was true. Therefore, Trunks did the reasonable thing: he sat and stared while he tried to think of something. “Um…”

“It’s not fair that you get to do whatever you want, but when I want something, you keep saying no! You’re being mean.”

“I’m being stupid!” Was what came immediately to his mind, and he blurt it out to stop what was getting set to become a full-on diatribe.

It worked; Gohan stopped dead, closing his mouth and glaring patiently at Trunks as he waited for an explanation. The man groped around his thoughts for some kind of coherency. The last thing he needed here was to come out looking like he couldn’t articulate a sentence. Again.

“I keep forgetting who you are. I want you to be my Gohan, but you’re not. And it’s not fair for me to expect you to be. That’s why. So, I’m sorry.” There, that was good, right? No arguing with that.

“I’m not.” Oh. Apparently there was, in fact, arguing with that.

“Huh?”

“Trunks, let me be your Gohan. Please, let me?”

“Whoa, hold on, Gohan. What are you talking about?”

“Please.” There was a note of pleading in his voice, almost unnoticeable. “I want to help you be happy again.”

“But that’s not what I want!”

“Stop lying, Trunks. You’re not good at it.”

“I-” Stupid kid. What was his problem, anyway? Well, no, Trunks knew what it was, he remembered being a boy that age. Essentially, he was curious. Not to mention stubborn; if someone was telling him he couldn’t have something, it was the only thing he wanted. But that didn’t mean it was okay. Trunks was the adult here, he had to put a stop to this. “Listen. You don’t know what you’re asking. You don’t really want to do this. You have to stop.”

“No.” The boy lifted a hand and touched a cheek lightly. “I want to be your Gohan, Trunks. I’m going to keep asking until you let me.”

In that moment, staring into the determined eyes of the boy who would grow up to be his lover, Trunks realized two things: First, Gohan was absolutely going to have his way, whether Trunks wanted it or not. Of course, Trunks didn’t know why he had expected any different. Second, The man from the future did want it. Badly. For all his posturing, all his denial, everything, he missed Gohan. Missed him so much, and here he was, the same person in a different body. He wanted him. Now.

“Gohan?”

“What?” There was a distinct pout in the tone.

“You’d better not change your mind about this.”

A sudden smile. The little bastard knew he had gotten his way. “I won’t.”

“Fine.” Trunks whispered, leaning in for another kiss. This time, he didn’t stop his hands from moving under Gohan’s shirt, lifting it, rubbing his young skin all over, pressing the boy’s body against his own.

Much to his embarrassment, his hands shook as he lifted the long shirt over Gohan’s head. Which one of them was the virgin here? The stupid kid was utterly steadfast, not wavering at all. Of course. Standing there, shivering in his underwear, in the dark with a man he hardly knew, Gohan didn’t seem the slightest bit uncertain. Trunks knew he had never been that sure; when it had been his first time, he had needed so much convincing that Gohan had eventually given up trying to talk him into it and just made the decision for him.

Naturally, The boy in front of him was not content to let Trunks do everything. He reached out and gave in impatient tug on the Capsule Corp. jacket, pulling the sleeve over his hand. Trunks pulled his arm out of the sleeve and shrugged out of the other, and Gohan was already lifting his shirt up off his belly. Trunks lifted his arms and allowed the boy to pull the shirt over his head and drop it carelessly on the grass.

Gohan stared at Trunks, or more specifically his bare chest, for a moment, then slowly reached out a hand and brushed his fingers down the pectorals. Trunks inhaled sharply as a finger grazed a nipple in passing, and Gohan noticed. He brought his free hand up to the other side, ‘accidentally’ brushing the opposite nipple, a little harder this time, actually chuckling quietly as the older man gasped.

“Oh, yeah?” Trunks muttered, grabbing the boy suddenly and kissing him again, holding him firmly in place. Once sure he wouldn’t move, the man left Gohan’s mouth and started moving sideways, eventually settling on his right ear, which he attacked with gusto, exploring the whole organ with his tongue.

As he had known he would, Gohan lost it; shouting his approval wordlessly—and loudly. After the initial shout, he made do with a incessant stream of yelps that made him sound like a puppy. That, as well as what was pressing into the chest through the little white underwear, helped him remember that yes, he was the one who knew what he was doing here.

He let up, and Gohan stood dazed for a minute. His face was flushed and he wasn’t shivering anymore. Trunks watched him, smiling superiorly. The boy regained his senses, saw Trunks looking at him and smiled back. Challengingly. He launched himself at the man, kissing fiercely, running his hands over everything he could reach, rubbing their bodies together, driven by a desire he didn’t understand.

They broke apart, staring into each other’s eyes and panting. Finally, Gohan broke his gaze to look pointedly down at the pants Trunks was still wearing, and then at his own bare legs. Trunks raised an eyebrow, which was interpreted as an invitation to assault his belt, practically dismantling it in order to remove it. The strap of leather went flying over a shoulder without a thought as little hands worked determinedly to unbutton him.

Gohan let out a quiet victory grunt as he succeeded in opening the front of the offending pants. Not missing a beat, he began tugging them down doggedly, trying to remove the obstacle from his path. Trunks helped, raising his hips a little so they could slide past his waist. After that, the persistent yanking paid off, and Gohan fell backwards as the pants came off all at once, landing hard on his behind with the garment on his head. Trunks sniggered. “You’re so cute.”

Clearly not sure how to respond, Gohan stood, letting the pants fall to one side, and just looked at him for a moment. Like, Trunks realized suddenly, something he had built, and he was now checking it for flaws. Just who was in charge here? Even in his own mind, Trunks decided it was better if that question went unanswered. Since he wasn’t moving for the moment, the man from the future acted on impulse, reaching out and yanking Gohan’s underpants down around his ankles.

His little stiffie being exposed to the air did little to ruffle the boy, but for a momentary widening of his eyes. Aside from that, all he did was smile that smile again and step out of them, kicking them away with one foot as he advanced on Trunks once more. The intent was clear in his eyes as the moon in the sky, fixed as they were on the man’s shorts—or, more specifically, the tent he was making of them.

Trunks reacted without thinking when Gohan’s hands went for the waistband and started to pull, shooting down and grabbing the piece of cloth, resisting being undressed, although of course that was what he wanted. The boy found it funny; he giggled a little, and said playfully, “What’s the matter, Trunks? Are you embarrassed?”

“No, I just don’t think it’s healthy for you to keep getting your way so easily.”

“Then you shouldn’t have been letting me.” Was the reply he got, leaving him to splutter incoherently as Gohan gave another tug on his shorts. This was accompanied by a great ripping sound as the pitiful fabric tore under Gohan’s mighty Saiyan strength, leaving him in tatters. Still playing the game, he managed to keep a larger part of his former underwear in front of his hardon, just barely covering himself.

Gohan stood back for a minute, pondering this problem. Trunks forced himself to stay still, and not to tackle the naked little boy and just start eating him right up. That would be exactly what Gohan wanted, and the mission Trunks had now adopted was to avoid doing that at all costs.

It wasn’t hard to determine when his future lover came up with a solution to his quandary. An evil grin formed on his face, so intently focused on him that Trunks gulped. He knew from experience that whatever the boy had come up with, he wasn’t going to like it.

Or he was going to like it way too much.

It was a little surprising when all Gohan did was lean in and kiss him lightly, once. Apparently satisfied with that, the boy broke off, but didn’t pull away. Instead, he slid his naked body down the time traveler’s torso, then over his hips and his protective hand, until he was eye level with the man from the future’s chest. Trunks tensed, closing his eyes by way of preparing for whatever was to come.

Gohan hugged him, turning his head to one side to get as close to him as possible. Trunks didn’t move for a while, waiting for the other shoe to make a foot-shaped dent in the back of his head, but nothing happened. The boy just sat there, arms wrapped around him, apparently content. He relaxed.

Which, of course, was what the little demon had been waiting for. As soon as he heard Trunks let out the breath he had been holding and felt the man put his free arm around him, Gohan shifted just tiny bit to one side, and stuck out his tongue to lick Trunks, particularly his left nipple.

Trunks actually shouted out loud in shock, recoiling instinctively. Because he had loosened his grip on Gohan, the boy used the added leeway to squirm around so he was in a better position to attack the sensitive area with his mouth, sucking on it like it like a baby looking for his mother’s milk, while swirling his tongue around, occasionally flicking the nipple. During this, Gohan freed one of his hands and used it for evil as well, massaging and squeezing on the other side.

The older man lost the function to sit, falling flat on his back and allowing Gohan to lay on top of him and do whatever he wanted. Not that there was anything new about that. He just let himself get carried away on a wave of pleasure.

And then it stopped. The hill seemed to fall silent as Goku’s son lifted himself off of Trunks, and it took him a minute to realize that it was because he had stopped making noise. He hadn’t even realized he was doing it, after the first yell. Catching his breath, Trunks blinked his eyes open (he didn’t remember closing them) as he sat up straight again.

And came face-to-face with Gohan, who was grinning widely and holding up the scraps of cotton that were all that was left of his underwear in one hand.

Trunks sighed. “You’re an asshole.”

“Hey!” The hurt tone in Gohan’s voice made the man start, and then curse himself again. Although that was one of his favourite nicknames for Gohan, he was still a kid, here. Kids don’t understand friendly name calling. Stupid.

“Sorry.”

“You don’t have to be so mean, you know. It’s not like I was hurting you.” Now Trunks had to do a double-take: Gohan was actually pouting. Of course, in stead of being obnoxious and childish, it was fucking adorable.

“It was an accident.” He insisted, but of course the look on the boy’s face made him want to box up the whole Earth and give it to Gohan, just so he would feel better. “I’m sorry.” He got up on his knees and kissed him again.

Gohan returned the favour with force, pressing their bodies together and toppling Trunks backwards, landing on top of his as they explored each other’s mouths again. His little shaft was grinding, by accident or design Trunks didn’t know, against his larger one, which was perhaps why it took him almost a full minute to wonder whether he had just been manipulated again.

Deciding that it didn’t matter, Trunks thrust his hips up a little, rubbing harder against the boy on top of him. Gohan reacted in kind, pushing himself downward. Trunks told himself that he only groaned a little bit as he kept up the rhythm they were establishing.

It didn’t take Trunks long to finish, his climax searing through him, taking away all perception for a few seconds. Gohan stiffened on top of him, but he didn’t really notice.

Trunks basked in the postorgasm glow for all of two seconds before he felt Gohan’s weight shift as the boy climbed off of him carefully. Realizing the had probably freaked the kid out, he sat up to explain. However, before he could speak, Gohan glared at him accusingly and said, “You bit my tongue.”

The time traveler had no idea how to respond to that. He had no recollection of it, but it was probably true. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to.” He mumbled, breaking eye contact for a second to gather his thoughts.

While he did that, Gohan snorted through his nose and looked down at the mess Trunks had made on his belly. His own abdomen was similarly smeared, his fading erection still dripping a little. Remembering that he still needed to explain, Trunks said, “That’s not what you think. It’s…”

“So this is sperm.” Gohan interrupted, not appearing to hear his companion. He scooped some of it up with his finger and lifted it right to his face to inspect it closer.

Trunks nearly fell over. How? How was it that he always, always knew everything? Why, just once, could he not be the one to explain something to his lover, rather than the other way around? Why did he always have to be the last to know?

“The textbook never said it was so sticky.” Gohan mussed, unaware of the other’s turmoil. “But, how come it came out, Trunks? It’s supposed to come out when you have sex, so a girl can get pregnant.” He awarded the man a curious half-glare for breaking with his perception of the world.

“Uh.” Though two seconds ago he had been wishing to be the one to impart knowledge, now that the opportunity had arisen, he was feeling rather blank. “Well, it doesn’t come out just because you had sex, Gohan. It’s actually because of…uh…well, I guess it’s basically when you rub your co…dick, like we were, that’s what makes it happen. It’s called an orgasm.”

“I know that.” He said absently, still watching his finger. “So, it’s not just for making babies?”

“Well, that’s what it’s for, but that’s not the only time it comes out. It’s when you feel really good from rubbing it a lot.” The fact that he was sitting there, explaining the concepts of sex to Gohan, of all people, topped the list of the most surreal things that had ever happened to Trunks.

“Oh, okay, I think I get it.” He still didn’t look at his companion, trying to work this new information out in his head.

Determined to regain some measure of control over the situation—and to not be ignored in favour of his own semen, thank you very much—Trunks sat up straight, grabbed hold of Gohan’s hand and, smiling in response to the surprised look the boy shot him, put the finger in his mouth and sucked on it, effectively cleaning it off.

He half-expected Gohan to get annoyed at the loss of his specimen, but all he did was look curiously at Trunks and ask, “What does it taste like?” To which he responded by running his finger up the boy’s belly and scooping some more up, then sticking it in Gohan’s mouth before he do any more than giggle at the tickle.

“Kind of like that.” Trunks said triumphantly.

Gohan liked the finger and sucked on it, cleaning it off and succeeding in making Trunks hard again, then grabbing his wrist and pulling the hand away from his face. “Ew.” He declared.

The time traveler didn’t know whether to laugh or be offended. deciding to settle for some measure of both, he said, “Well, I’ll just take your share, then.” And before Gohan could puzzle that out, he lunged, grabbing him under the armpits and attacking the mess on that covered his front.

Gohan howled as he was tongue-tickled relentlessly, attempting to curl up into a ball to protect himself while at the same time trying valiantly to get away. But Trunks was stronger than him, and there was no escape. He licked up every last bit of his seed, and then kept going, since he was having fun. Plus, he was being encouraged by something that kept poking into his chin.

So, he moved down, tracing Gohan’s bellybutton as he passed it, down the line of his abdomen, stopping to leave a fast kiss on the pubis, and finally licking the length of the little pole, lightly at first and then, delighting in the sudden shiver that ran through Gohan, as if he were intending to remove the skin with his tongue. Finally, he opened his mouth and swallowed the whole shaft, then, because Gohan’s size let him, the balls as well.

“Trunks!” Gohan’s voice sounded strangled in the face of this new sensation. He curled up even tighter, almost doubling over on top of the man’s head, but where before he had been trying to get away, now he was attempting to push closer, as close as he could get to Trunks.

The man from the future was perhaps the happiest he’d been in years. Gohan tasted exactly like he remembered, sweet, but not too much so; his favourite flavour. That it was smaller than he was used to was irrelevant; for the moment, Trunks could believe he was the kid again, sucking contentedly on Gohan like nothing else mattered.

He lost track of time, but eventually Gohan stopped moving altogether and let out one single sustained breath. His fists had found their way back into the time traveler’s hair at some point, and they tightened severely as the boy had his orgasm. Nothing came out, of course, but Trunks kept working at it, sucking, licking, doing everything he knew how to in order to extend this for Gohan as long as possible.

When it was over, Gohan collapsed, giggling riotously. “That was so awesome!” He said, in between fits. “Trunks, you have to let me do that to you! It’s like the best thing ever.” When he looked up at the other, his eyes were practically sparkling in the dark. Gohan regarded Trunks for a minute and promptly started giggling again. Gohan was cute when he was high on adrenaline, Trunks decided.

Somehow, despite the fact that he was watching him, Gohan managed to take him by surprise when he suddenly reared up and tackled Trunks, forcing him flat on his back. “Hi.” His eyes were still all sparkly and he was grinning fiercely.

Before the time traveler could respond—not that he had anything intelligent to say—Gohan ducked down and boldly engulfed Trunks, so fast that it took the older a minute to realize what had happened.

Gohan went down on his prize as though determined to swallow it whole, seemingly undeterred by the remnants of the substance he had just summed up with the word ‘ew.’

In fact, it was probably the worst blowjob Trunks had ever received. Gohan truly had no idea what he was doing, and it was obvious from the way he couldn’t quite keep his teeth out of the way, didn’t seem to know what to do with his tongue, he couldn’t form a good seal with his lips, so the suction was inconsistent…

Trunks hoped it would never end.

But unfortunately, he was soon aware that it was about to, and Gohan was right in the line of fire. “Gohan…you need to…get up…off…”

He succeeded in getting the boy’s attention—Gohan swiveled his eyes upwards—but it was too late. He froze at the first ejaculation, his eyes going wide as he realized what was happening, then the second one followed. He was a little slow in responding, the third filled his mouth before he finally pulled off, the fourth hitting him directly in the face. Gohan sat back out of the way as the last bit of the orgasm spent itself onto the older man’s stomach.

The boy sat there with his mouth open, sperm dripping down his chin and off the tip of his nose, just a little bit stunned. Trunks sat back up, and Gohan glared at him accusingly and said, “You should have said something.”

“I did!”

“Well, you should have said it louder!” Gohan huffed. “Gross.”

“Here, I’ll clean you up.” Trunks held out a hand and pulled Gohan onto his lap and into another kiss, whereupon he proceeded to remove all unwanted fluid from the boy’s mouth. When that was done, he moved out a little and cleaned off the rest of his face, getting him giggling again.

Finished, he pulled away to examine his handiwork—and was followed, pulled into another heated kiss that Gohan seemed to have no intention of breaking, ever.

He did, eventually, and climbed away, pulling a larger hand in both of his smaller ones, still smiling forcefully. “Come on, Trunks, let’s do it again!”

“Again? Aren’t you tired?”

Thinking about it for almost half a second, Gohan shook his head. “Nope. Come on, let’s go.”

“Okay, hold on.” Well, if Gohan was still willing and able, there was one thing… “I know something else we can do. Trust me, it’ll help you burn off all that extra energy.”

“I don’t want to do something else.” The boy said, wrinkling his nose. “I want to keep doing this.”

“But it’s better! Trust me, come here.” He reclined on his elbows, patting the grass in between his legs.

“Oh, okay. But after this, can you suck on my dick again?” Gohan asked as he sat where indicated.

“Sure, if you still want me to.”

“Of course I will. Why wouldn’t I?”

“You’ll see.” During the exchange, Trunks, ran a finger down himself to pick up some of the evidence from earlier, and then swiftly penetrated himself. Just the one finger was all he needed, moving it around, stretching just enough. The Gohan of this time certainly wasn’t going to need nearly as much room as Trunks usually had to make.

“Trunks, why are you doing that?” Gohan had noticed what was happening and had leaned in for a closer look.

“I’m just getting it ready for you.”

“What? You want me to stick my finger up your butt?” Gohan looked down at his hands confusedly, wiggling the fingers. “Why?”

The time traveler had to chuckle. “Not your fingers, Gohan. Your dick.”

“Oh.” The boy shifted his gaze more southward and repeated, “Why?”

“Because it’s awesome, Gohan. Just trust me, okay? You’ll like it.” He removed the finger. “Here, go ahead.”

“Okay…” Despite being obviously uncertain, Gohan did as instructed and crawled forward so he could reach. Trunks splayed his legs far apart to allow him room, and the boy, one shaky hand on the older’s abdomen for balance and the other holding himself straight, slowly pushed himself inside the man.

Again, not what he was used to, but the feeling of having Gohan inside of him again was just the best thing that Trunks had ever experienced. It had been such a long time, and he had been certain it would never happen again, this feeling of fullness, togetherness with the man—boy—who he loved so much. Trunks could have died happy right then.

Gohan didn’t seem to have gotten the whole ‘perfection’ memo yet. “What do I do now?” He asked, a tad boredly, although his voice did sound a little breathier than usual.

“Just start pushing it in and out. It’ll start to feel good, I promise.”

Giving a few experimental thrusts, Gohan replied, “How long do I have to do this?”

Trunks almost laughed. If his old teacher had had it his way, they would have been doing this and nothing else twenty-four/seven. “Just until you have another orgasm, Gohan.”

“Oh, okay.” He kept it up; in and out, in and out. Then, “It feels kinda weird, Trunks.”

“It’s supposed too, Gohan. It’s a good weird, right?” It was getting a little harder to put words together, to think clearly…

“Well, yeah, I guess. But, do you like it too?” Gohan was starting to sweat a little, making him slightly shiny in the moonlight.

“Oh, yeah. This is my favourite place to be, in the whole world.” He was panting now, and not just from exertion. He saw that Gohan was doing the same and flashed him a smile.

Apparently out of questions for now, Gohan lapsed into silence, but for the occasional grunt as he pushed himself.

It took time, thanks to the relatively small part of Gohan inside him, but Trunks slowly started to feel his finish coming on, spurred by nothing but the fact that it was Gohan inside him, with him. The electric sparks that seemed to fly from the boy’s little dick worked to stimulate the inside of him, sending him down old, predictable paths, until…

“Trunks!” Gohan shouted, as the man from the future shot seed everywhere yet again. Trunks didn’t hear, since he was too busy throwing his head back and yelling the boy’s name, and also didn’t see that Gohan had his eyes closed as well and was nearly biting through his lip, frozen in mid-thrust as his own climax wracked his young body.

Spent, they both lay in a pile, Gohan first pulling himself out of Trunks and climbing upwards to rest his head on a shoulder. “You were right, Trunks.” He said sleepily. Just as predicted, all that exercise had taken the excess energy right out of him. “That was awesome.”

“Glad you think so, little guy.” He brought an arm up and put it around the boy who would become his teacher.

“I love you, Trunks.” It was barely a whisper, said on the downward journey to slumber.

“I love you, too, Gohan. I always will.” But he was already asleep.

Trunks indulged himself and lay there for a while, just for the sake of laying there with Gohan. But unfortunately, while he wouldn’t be missed by anyone, Goku and Chi-Chi would eventually notice that their son wasn’t in bed. So, he sat up, careful not to wake Gohan, and placed the boy on the grass, using their discarded clothes as a blanket while he used his destroyed boxers to clean Gohan up. Finally, he dressed the boy again—although he did keep the little underwear for his own, deciding that Gohan owed him a pair; plus, he was already a child molester anyway, so he might as well act like one—and started the short flight back to his house.

After tucking Gohan into his own bed—and leaving his own parting gift in return for the underpants he had stolen—Trunks leaned on the windowsill, watching him sleep. He was so beautiful.

“I love you so much, Gohan.” He muttered. He wanted this boy to be the happiest person on the planet. “I won’t.” He promised. “I won’t let you grow up in my world. You deserve better than that. If I have to die to do it, I will make sure you grow up happy.” Trunks leaned in and kissed the boy on the forehead. “Goodbye, Gohan.”

Then he turned and went back to his ship. He had a world to save. For him.



Sleep evacuated Gohan’s mind abruptly in the morning, most likely related to the fact that his father had jumped on him. “Come on, Gohan! Are you going to sleep all day?” Goku cried. “It’s my first day back on Earth! Come on, get out of bed!”

“Okay, I’m awake.” Comprehension dawned suddenly. “Dad! You’re here!” And he leapt on Goku to hug him tight.

Laughing, Goku separated himself from his son. “I’m not going anywhere, Gohan. Now let’s get you dressed; breakfast is ready!” And he yanked Gohan’s shirt over his head in one motion.

“Dad!” Gohan, now naked, jumped from the bed. From surprise more than anything; neither of them had much in the way of modesty. Vaguely though, he did wonder what had happened to his underwear.

Then, all at once, he remembered what had happened last night. He turned to the dresser quickly so his father wouldn’t see the brilliant shade of crimson his face turned, and started to fish out some clothes.

If Goku found anything odd about his son’s apparent choice of sleepwear, he didn’t say anything about it, just sat on the bed and waited for Gohan to finish dressing. But, just as the boy was putting on his pants, he said, “Hey, what’s this?”

The half-Saiyan turned, and saw his father pulling some kind of fabric from between the bedsheets. Recognition hit Gohan as he realized that he must have been sleeping underneath it. “Isn’t this the coat Trunks was wearing yesterday?”

“No!” Gohan said, perhaps a trifle quickly. “It’s, uh…Bulma’s! Yeah, she gave it to me a few weeks ago because I was at her house and it was cold and…”

“Huh. They even have the same fashion sense. Who would have guessed.” Earth’s defender commented, sounding like he was sharing some private joke with himself as he set the jacket back on the bed. “Anyway, come on. Let’s go get breakfast, and then we’ll decide what to do today.”

“I’ll, uh…be there in a minute, dad. Just have to make my bed.” Gohan’s eyes tracked Goku out of the room.

“Sure. Just don’t take too long, or there’ll be no food left!” And he departed, leaving the door slightly ajar.

After Gohan heard his father retreat to the kitchen, he crossed over to the bed and picked up the jacket he had been sleeping under. “Trunks…” He said softly, looking down at it. “You didn’t even say goodbye to me.” A single tear fell on the dark fabric, but he quickly wiped the rest away before they could form. He could be upset about that later. Today, all that mattered was that his dad was back home.

Trunks didn’t matter right now. He forced himself not to let Trunks matter right now.

Today was a happy day.



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