Our First Valentine's Day
by Flipfloppandas     More by this Writer
14 drabbles about Goten and Trunks' first Valentine's Day. Follows 'Our Winter'.

Art Source :

https://www.pixiv.net/member_illust.php?id=4763925



Chapter 01 : Diamonds
"Trunks, I feel as though your anxiety is unwarranted."
"I'm not anxious, Goten."

"Really? Forgive me for not believing you, but if you bounce your foot any harder you might bring the place down around us, babe."

Trunks scowled and stilled his foot. His body was still strung tight, arms crossed stiffly over his chest, and eyebrows drawn down so hard it was almost painful.

"Trunks, I really think you're worked up over nothing."

"I'm not worked up, Goten, now leave me alone." Despite his physical appearance, he can assure you that he is not anxious, or worked up, or annoyed, or any other synonym of that.

If he was annoyed, it would be because of how long this all was taking. How long did it take to get rings cut, anyway? Perhaps this is what he gets for waiting until the last minute. He probably wouldn't be this seemingly worked up had this been done months ago.

Months... it has been quite a few months—a whole two years in fact. It didn't feel like it had been two years since the day Goten got down on one knee and proposed with a Ki-filled diamond on Trunks' favorite bridge in Trunks' favorite country, and yet, it was. Forgive him for being cliché, but it truly felt like it was only yesterday.

Despite his disbelief, it had, in fact, been a very eventful two years. Two years in which Trunks turned twenty, and Goten nineteen. Two years in which Goten left his mother's house and Trunks left his dorm for a small apartment that Goten paid ⅓ of the rent on, and was a ten minutes' walk away from Stanford. Two years in which Goten decided that since cooking was the only thing he was good at, and he enjoyed it, he would become a chef, and enrolled himself into online culinary classes—not exactly the after-secondary-education Chi-Chi was hoping for, but Goten was happy enough that she left well enough alone. Two years since Trunks decided he would graduate early—six months from today—and take over as the head of Capsule Corp. in the months that followed. Two years for Japan (and much of the surrounding area) to suddenly decide that since the heir to Capsule Corporations was super cute, gay, and getting married, he absolutely needed to be covered by the media (despite the fact that Trunks can't remember there ever being a time that someone outside of West City actually knew who he was).Two years for the two of them to enlighten the family and loved ones of the engagement, thankfully before nosy news-reporters could. Two years for them to pick a date.

February 14th. Saint Valentine's Day.

At first, Trunks felt that that was an odd date to get married on. Aside from the fact that most people typically got married in the spring, Trunks figured that Goten would want their wedding date—which would ultimately become their anniversary—to be, well... special. Or at the very least, not shared with a national holiday.

Goten, however, was more than happy to explain the reasoning behind his choice, and then it made sense... at least, as much sense as anything Goten could think up can.

Two years ago, when their relationship was still a bit new, Goten had joked about making Valentine's Day chocolate for him. After a laugh and a quick reminder that Goten was not his girlfriend, and thus had no reason to make Trunks chocolate, the issue was dropped. Not that there needed to be a debate, when there was twice the amount of gifts being given on White Day. It would seem that Trunks was wrong, seeing as how apparently Goten cared enough about the stupid holiday to have his wedding on it, thus forcing Trunks to celebrate it with him.

Whatever, it's all good. There are certainly worse days that he could be getting married on.

Then again, many of those days weren't a couple of weeks from now...

Now the big question, of course, is why they were only just now getting the rings for the ceremony, literally days before the wedding, despite the two long years beforehand for preparations. Trunks is ashamed to say that there was not really a proper answer. Aside from his classes, he wasn't really busy. Trunks wasn't really picky about the particulars of the wedding, and was more than happy to let his mother and Chi-Chi takeover. Aside from the color theme, he had next to no idea what was going to be happening at the wedding. Being as that was the case, one would think that with how much free time that gave him, it should have been relatively easy for his photographic memory to remember his own fucking ring.

He hadn't though, hence why he was here, waiting beside the brightly-lit glass counter at the best jeweler he could find on such short notice.

All these months and he had not even thought about it. That was mainly because, well, as embarrassing as it was to admit, he had quite, simply forgotten he would need one. In his defense, ever since this all began, there had been no rings; just a diamond.

His diamond (Trunks referred to it has 'his' because there was no way Goten loved it as much as he did) hardly ever left the house—it was too big to carry, and it looked awkward as a necklace. Instead, for the past several months, the jewel sat in a holder on the top of their dresser in their bedroom, hardly taking up any space and yet always drawing attention. Sometimes at night, he would find himself watching the gem—shiny, glittering swirls seeming so dim against the expanse of the dark room, yet still so bright in the ways that counted. Trunks felt quite a few different things about the diamond; he thought a lot of things too. Sometimes when he was in a particularly solemn mood, he found himself thinking about how Goten, the idiot, nearly killed himself to get it for him, for reasons that Trunks pampered mind would never be able to understand (they could have just bought one!). Most of the time, though, he thought of the energy that flowed inside of it—still as radiant as the day it was created. The diamond was a confession; testament; a proposal. The diamond was also a mix of the two of them—energies that flowed in one space; in one creation. Like a baby, only much more flashy and much less whiny.

Perhaps Goten had not meant for his little spur of the moment paragon concoction to be taken so seriously, but it was, it was very serious to Trunks. Sometimes he wishes he hadn't agreed to convert the gem. His diamond wouldn't just be a diamond anymore; it would be two diamond rings. It would still be the same creation, only so much more different.

Maybe that's why he was a little nervous—so nervous that in his impatience he forgot to acknowledge the fact that there were actually a bit early for the pick-up. He's nervous because what if it's damaged? There are so many ways an average diamond cutter who does not have the same fondness for the gem could harm it. What if he doesn't like the rings? What if he should have listened to his head and kept his precious diamond safe on the dresser, and just bought new rings? Why had he put it off for so long?

"Hey, look at me," Trunks had forgotten he was even there. Goten, who had insisted on accompanying Trunks to the jeweler, and had been insufferably and almost unusually calm these past few months.

Trunks trailed his eyes over, and despite his tension, welcomed the hand that slid into his.

Once Goten was satisfied with the attention, he leaned in and pressed their foreheads together. Goten had grown taller these past two years—their height differences were almost noticeable now. The difference wasn't so great that Trunks felt he had to be annoyed about it just yet.

"Stop worrying, the rings will be great." He hated when Goten did that—read his mind like it was a book instead of his fucking mind.

"Yeah well they damn well better be," Trunks replied, but still he relaxed, releasing the tight coils of his body as he focused on the thumb that was rolling circles on the back of his hand. It's amazing how Goten can calm him down with something as significant as words and a hand massage, but Trunks is thankful enough not to complain.

"Sorry for the wait, sirs—" The bubbly bench jeweler suddenly exclaims, somehow managing to materialize behind the counter with a black box in hand, "—but your rings are ready!"

It is official. His diamond is gone.

Trunks takes a deep breath and backs away from the Son. He welcomes the comforting hand on his waist as he opens the little black box, bracing himself for the sight of his diamond completely destroyed; tampered.

Only they aren't tampered. "They're perfect."



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