Welcome to Boxer & Rice

He said it was over. I had said I understood. It was no big deal, right? Just one of those things that happen between two people. And the best thing, he probably figured, was to let it go.

He said that years ago, and I lived by it. After all, he's got a family. So I lived the life I had to live at high school and college, then Capsule Corps. I will run the family business one day. And whatever happened between Gohan and me, years ago, won't matter a damn. It was just one of those things.

I'm just waiting for it to stop mattering.

It still makes for awkward moments during those damned family get togethers mom insists on throwing. They aren't family at all, dad says (so rightly). I don't like the way mom pushes me and Gohan to say hi and shake hands. She pushes me to do this with everyone but I especially hate that. He always smiles at me as if we were practically brothers. As if he never saw me naked. Shakes my hand as if we never touched each other. Or had sex in an empty public park. Like none of that never happened. And I get it. It was just one of those things. People would freak out and it is not worth it.

Not worth it.

I have to accept it. After all I said I would. So I will, even if it kills me. Still, I hate these parties. I hate any thing remotely like a "get together." Let me get together with these spring rolls and this bottle of sake...

"Hey, Trunks."

Oh, it's Mr You-Understand, with the suit. "Hi. What's happening?" I drop a roll on his plate. "Try these. They're great."

"Thanks." He clears his throat. Steps closer. Says in a careful, quiet voice, "You okay?"

So this is different.

Oh, he's checking in to make sure I'm not suffering from the effects of some sort of child molestation. I was sixteen. Not a child. And I said yes. A lot. Liked it, plenty. "I'm good." I nod. I smile. I even look him in the eye so we can get the heart felt candor thing out of the way.

God, this is just as bad as ignoring it.

"Good." He nods back. Turns away and then -poof!- he's gone. Dr Son Gohan has done his duty. He has made sure I'm not suicidal, cracking up or about to accuse him of corrupting youth. What a hero.

And yet I'm still by myself. Still remembering that one time, just one time, when he took me for a ride in his old Saab. It was ten years ago. I wonder how many times he has thought of me with anything other than regret. If he ever wondered if I would let him do it again.

I would.

If he wanted me to. I'd go to that restroom with him. The one right next to the buffet. I'd close the floor. I'd drop to my knees. Then let him bend me over the sink. He could even tie me up like he did the last time. I'd love it. Love every second of it and you'd better believe I wouldn't give a damn if everyone knew. If the door opened and they all saw me naked, gagged with his tie, fucked by Dr Son. Actually, I'd love it.

But I don't say a word. He said it was just that one time and he meant it. "It can't happen again," he said, all those years ago. "It just wouldn't be a good idea."

I hate these parties.