Let Me Save You
by Daisygirl     More by this Writer
They are the only ones left of their kind.

Song Used: M2M – Pretty Boy

Let Me Save You

I lie awake at night

See things in black and white

I’ve only got you inside my mind
You know you have made me blind

He laid there in the dark of night just contented listening to the other’s soft patterned breathing. Knowing he should have been asleep himself, he couldn’t help but let his adoring eyes roam over the sleeping figure. Well developed muscles and a toned body, he couldn’t help but think of how much he wanted to be cuddled up intimately in the powerful grip.

I lie awake and pray

That you will look my way

I have all this longing in my heart
I knew it right from the start

He watched the even rise and fall, wishing that his lips could just once brush against the other’s full pouty silk-like skin. Trying to shake the condemnable thoughts, he sighed and reclined against the bed with a despondent expression gracing his thoughtful features.

The last think he needed right now was to lose control over his raging hormones. The two had been brought together by fate. Being the last two of their own kind was more than disconcerting when they had thought about it. No one else could understand why the two of them alone were willingly taking the weight of the world on their shoulders. There were enough problems in their world with the two maniacal monsters on the lose.

Oh my pretty pretty boy I love you

Like I never ever loved no one before you

Pretty pretty boy of mine

Just tell me you love me too

Oh my pretty pretty boy

I need you

Oh my pretty pretty boy I do

Let me inside
Make me stay right beside you

He could have never guessed that affection would blossom as they grew together in strength and companionship. Not only would their wishful relationship be considered wrong in the eyes of others because of age, but also being the same gender wasn’t something that could be considered appropriate in the eyes of their counterpart human race.

But that was a problem right there, neither of them were actually human. What standard of comparison did they have for their lives? A long past deceased of race of warriors? No, they were demis, two of a kind.

Was that what he saw when he looked for the companionship and presence of the other demi?

I used to write your name

And put it in a frame

And sometime I think I hear you call
Right from my bedroom wall

It was starting to become an obsession, but then again it sort of all ways had been with him. The pain of loss was driving them both closer and closer to the edge themselves, each walking on a razor sharp blade. Cuts to the soul were deep and sharp. It was something that was also bonding them together. The need for understanding of the pain was a yearning that burned with a passion. And burned it did. The every growing tension between the two warriors was a palpable force to be reckoned with. As two sleeping figures in the night laid in close proximity of the other, neither would have shared the thoughts of longing, a mutual, yet unspoken love. It was to never be admitted, a secret burning desire that would remain that way.

How sad it was to see. In a world so wrought with destruction, the opportunity of finding such a love amongst all the pain and sorrow was little to none, and to have it so clearly in view and have to ignore it was an agony all to searing.

How could you deny something so pure from yourself, only because of what society would say?

You stay a little while

And touch me with your smile

And what can I say to make you mine
To reach out for you in time

Smiles were too far and few between. That optimistic bright smile was something he longed to see, and hoped that he could make it slightly more permanent through efforts he hoped not to be in vain. The strain of intense pressure and constant struggle for more power did nothing to hinder his efforts, even though his will to go on was being chipped away, little by little with the enduring turmoil. How could he convince another that it was worth pain for the fight when he felt like giving in himself? He knew he was needed, but it was a dark flicker of anguish in his once innocent eyes. Eyes that had seen too much pain and torture at such a young age.

The lure of death was an ever tempting call beckoning them both. It would mean freedom, but how could you be so selfish. It was their call to fight, but it was their burden. Passed down from the last generation of purebred Saiyans, to humans. They were the unnamed heroes of countless battles. Now, they were the world’s last hope.

In this world, nothing could go untainted by their cruelest of fates. Death was an everlasting fog that crept its way into the once thriving civilization.

How could love conquer all if it was deemed wrong?

Oh my pretty pretty boy I love you

Like I never ever loved no one before you

Pretty pretty boy of mine

Just tell me you love me too

Oh my pretty pretty boy

I need you

Oh my pretty pretty boy I do

Let me inside
Make me stay right beside you

He wished that time would have just stopped at that moment. The two of them lying under the velvet sky, littered with countless stars. It was almost romantic. And if he could have been lying there with anyone, he wouldn’t have wished for anyone else. He was perfect. Noteworthy in Saiyan eyes that glittered with hope in a world on the bring of extinction. Maybe hope seemed lost, but there it was in the eyes of a boy. No, not a boy. With too much experience and death, forced to mature too fast, no one ever stayed a child long in their world. That was a fact. No longer a child, but not yet a man. He still held an inner beauty, a purity that could so easily sway any other. Neither of them slept much. They would rise with the sun, then work themselves to exhaustion long before they allowed themselves the comfort of rest. Overly strained and overworked. A tear fell from eyes as the figure slept.

Oh pretty boy

Say you love me too

“Gohan?” A timid voice, willing to see if the other was awake or not.

“…Hmm, Trunks? What is it?” A groggy voice asked from beside him.

“Nothing… I just… Sorry for waking you.” The nightmare had been so real, sleep was a commodity that was rarely afforded to either of them. A sigh left his lips as eyes searched the sky for answers not even the heavens themselves knew.

“Trunks? Are you OK?” Shit, he was awake.

“Uhm, yeah… I just had a nightmare. Nothing to worry about.” Trunks rolled back over to face away from the object of his well hidden affection.

Gohan sighed. He wouldn’t be able to talk to the kid if he continued to burry all of his worries. He masked his adoration for the younger demi in a brotherly love and responsibility of a mentor. The teen, nine years his junior was all he had to fight for.

His family was long gone, stolen by daemons that lurked in the dark. He almost lost an arm and barely escaped with his life. Whether the teen knew it or not, he was the sun and the moon in the older demi’s otherwise bleak world. Darkness had lulled him into depression, and he would have drowned in it, that was until the day the younger boy had come to him, begging for understanding. They shared a similar passion, a fire that could burn away the darkness if harnessed properly.

Gohan didn’t want to admit it to the boy, but he would have never denied that right of a Saiyan, a thirst to fight. Albeit, they would have been stir-crazy for a fight and the longing for a fight if the world had been at peace.

Having finally made up his mind, Gohan knew he had to confront it head on. Working up the courage, he moved closer to his companion. Hesitantly, he touched the shoulder and forced the other to face him.

“Trunks, I… I just want you to know I’m here for you. If you ever need to talk, about anything, I’m here to listen. You know that right?” Gohan searched the pure faultless azure eyes for any doubt. What he did see shocked him. He gasped in feeling helpless towards the teen.

Tears. Trunks nodded despondently not even being able to talk as he started to choke on sobs, as heartache ate away at his core. Here was the only person who could ever understand him, and all he was was a burden to him. A disappointment that hadn’t even reached Super Saiyan. How could Gohan even look at him.

He was stunned as strong able arms held him as he shook with the despondence and desperation. Oh how he needed to feel the warmth of that soul at night. “Go…han… ” He rasped out through sobs and hiccups.

“Shh…shh. It’s alright, Trunks. It’s alright.” He didn’t know quite what to do other than try to calm him and rock his slender from back and forth to comfort. “It’s OK.” He nearly had tears in his own eyes from just seeing the pain so deep in those beautiful blue orbs. He deserved so much more than what this world could ever offer.

Trunks felt the comfort of the warm embrace, a lavishing coziness that brought sleep as he has held. Here in protective arms, no mental demons could reach him within the barriers of that warmth.

Gohan sighed as he layed back down, never relenting his hold on the boy. It just felt so right. Sleep soon took over in the pre-dawn hours. Neither noticed it, but the sun rose to greet another day. In the shade of the overhanging cliff, it’s light never even touched either demi, still nested together in peaceful slumber.

A light contented purr could be herd, even in stride and in synchronization with it’s answer.

Blue orbs fluttered open, shocked by the position of sun. Usually woken from countless demons before dawn even decided to show her face, a late morning alarm of the birds that sung was a first. He wondered exactly why he couldn’t move, but he saw the arms that still held him. The purr was something he had become captivated by. He turned himself around in the other’s hold to see dark lashes still closed and dark tangled fringe.

Timidly, he smoothed the hair away from the face. Dark eyes fluttered open at the alluring touch of the younger demi’s smooth skin.

“Good morning.” He practically purred. It was something he was so unaccustomed hearing from his own throat. The other smiled.

“Good morning.” A smile graced his young features and blue eyes danced in amusement.

Captivated by the light in those eyes and the comfort, two sets of lips timidly brushed, for the briefest second.

“Trunks? How about I go find something for breakfast?” With the response of a smile and a nod, he got up and wondered to their small camp. With everything that had been awkwardly revealed, his mind wondered with a smile.

Not hearing or noticing the younger demi’s efforts, he was successfully pinned to the ground. A kiss of searing passion was underway before he even knew what hit him. He had thought that Trunks would have acted shy about the kiss and be slightly different, but not that he was complaining about the sixteen year-old’s aggression.

As crazy as their lives had been, they laid together, having forgotten about breakfast long ago, now just under the covers. Together they’d find hope. A passion to not just fight for, but to live.

And live they would, they were each other’s heroes. Saviors from the dark looming depression, now burnt away by the fiery passion. There would be another day to fight.

Oh my pretty pretty boy I love you

Like I never ever loved no one before you

Pretty pretty boy of mine

Just tell me you love me too

Oh my pretty pretty boy

I need you

Oh my pretty pretty boy I do

Let me inside

Make me stay right beside you
Let me save you.

Comments

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