Welcome to Boxer & Rice

If prompted too, Trunks could probably think of at least six things off the top of his head that would be far more productive than what he was doing right now. Of course lounging on Goten's living room couch hardly ever meant the two of them were doing anything beneficial. If they were playing video games they'd probably be in Goten's bedroom. If they were sparring (which was becoming less entertaining and more chore-like as of late) they'd be outside. During any other remotely entertaining or useful activity they could possibly think of they'd be at Trunks' house, simply because it was superior in pretty much every way.
They obviously aren't doing either of these things; the reality is actually quite disappointing.

They are spending this afternoon focused on their studies. Well no, that's a lie, because the actuality is that Goten was the one attempting not to flunk school (and ultimately life), while Trunks draped himself over his sofa and read a book. Trunks wasn't quite sure why exactly he was here in Goten's house, watching him fail miserably at mathematics. It wasn't like he was tutoring him or anything like that (mainly because Chi-Chi specifically asked him not to, a request he couldn't really blame her for). Perhaps he was there for moral support?

"Ugh, this is bullshit!"

Okay maybe not, but what did Trunks care?

Goten suddenly spoke again, his voice still stained with his previous frustration, "What the fuck is 7 plus 8?"

Give him a minute; he's not that stupid...

"15, it's 15."

And there you go.

Trunks shook his head, a small grin on his face as he focused his eyes back to his novel. He'll admit that he was a bit bored sitting on this couch with literally nothing to do but read a book and listen to Goten complain, but it was worth it however since he got to watch said Son suffer with the things he excelled at, which was always fun. Besides, it was nice to simply sit back and relax, and Goten needed a silent second-party to make sure he did not get sidetracked from his studies. They both benefitted, one more positive than the other, but still benefitted.

"Okay, okay, I think I got this one right," Goten said, his voice relaying his frustration as he slid the text book across the coffee table.

Trunks didn't even glance up from his book. "No, you didn't."

"What do you mean? You didn't even look!"

Trunks didn't need to. "You divided a negative number by a negative number and forgot to make the solution positive, again. And you probably got the final product completely wrong as well. Again."

"I don't want to do this anymore!" Goten declared, throwing down his pencil for good measure. This was then following by a groan, and the furious scratching of his fingers against his scalp.

Trunks peered over the rim of his novel and arched his brow. "You keep making the same mistakes; what do you expect?"

Goten's head at this point had fallen against the coffee table in defeat, muffled moans of sorrow being his only reply.

Trunks shook his head, but instead of returning to his book, allowed his eyes to linger. Trunks didn't particularly like to call Goten 'cute', because it made him feel uncomfortably like a pre-teen school-girl. He could not, however, deny the fact that Goten was attractive. He was especially attractive now, with that thick headband wrapped around his forehead to keep his bangs out of his eyes while he gazed down at the textbook in front of him. Hell, he was attractive even when he was wearing nothing but his typical 'relaxing at home' ensemble. Most people probably thought that a plain t-shirt and sweatpants was nothing special (because it really wasn't), but of course Trunks just had to be the one to make a big deal out of it anyway. But come on, could you honestly blame him? I mean really, what was Goten trying to accomplish by wearing sweatpants that when he sat with his legs crossed—as he was doing now—managed to stretch across his crotch in a way that made his lap look so freaking inviting? What was the point of wearing a baggy shirt that somehow managed to be just tight enough to show his muscles with every odd move he made? Everyone in the room knew how ripped Goten was, and how comfortable his lap was to sit on—it wasn't like he needed to show off.

Or maybe he's showing off for you, and you know he is.

He'll never understand how Goten managed emit boyish charm and masculine pheromones at the same time. Well, either way, it was cute... attractive... whatever.

"What are you reading, Trunks?" Goten asked suddenly.

Trunks cursed himself for jumping in shock. Gathering himself, he replied with forced evenness, "The Silmarrion, by J.R.R Tolkien."

Goten made a noise of acknowledgement, and then proceeded to lean over the coffee table to pluck the novel from Trunks' fingers. Trunks watched as he flipped carelessly through the pages, skimming the words with his eyes in the most annoying yet oddly adorable way. It wasn't long before Goten was shaking his head as if he had lost some type of battle, and handing the book back. "And you're actually able to read that?"

Trunks unceremoniously flipped back to the exact page he'd been on before. "Pretty much, yeah—it's kind of boring though."

Goten whistled. "Damn, Trunks, it's crazy how smart you are."

Trunks felt his cheeks redden, and he skillfully covered them with the book. It wasn't the first time someone had complimented him on his higher-than-average intellect—and it wouldn't be the last—but there was just something about the way that Goten would say it that always sends an embarrassing little flutter to Trunks' chest. "You're not doing your homework."

"But I'd much rather watch you blush—it's cute," and before Trunks could become properly mortified, Goten continued with: "Besides, I don't know how to multiply by 12."

Trunks narrowed his eyes. "Goten, you're fourteen years old and in high school, so you really should be ashamed of yourself. Nine year olds know their 12's tables."

"They're hard!"

"They're really not." Sure Trunks has known how to multiply and divide since he was three and half, but still.

"Truuuunks," Goten moaned out in distress.

"What, dammit?" Trunks huffed in annoyance.

"Help me, please?" Trunks frowned, but still Goten persisted, "I know you said you wouldn't but please just this once? You're the only person who doesn't make it sound like a bunch of bull crap!"

"Your brain is a bunch of bull crap," Trunks muttered, but ultimately relented, "alright, alright, shit. I'll help you. I'm not doing any of it for you, though." He figured he'd cut the young Son some slack this time. Despite his teasing, he could tell that Goten had been working hard in his own way, after all.

Goten pumped his fist in the air and cried out in victory. Trunks was annoyed with himself for taking pleasure in putting a smile on that face.

"Alright then, come over- never mind, just scoot over."

Goten did not seem register Trunks' mix up, and happily slid over. Trunks had originally been about to invite Goten to sit next to him on the couch, but had fortunately caught himself in time. It has recently become apparent that Goten just couldn't seem to keep his hands to himself when they were near any surface that Trunks could be pushed back against. Just thinking about that possibility sent an involuntary thrill down Trunks' spine, but he wouldn't give into it. As delightful as such a turn in events would probably be—it really wasn't a good idea. Not with Chi-Chi and Goku right outside, fiddling around in their radish garden.

Besides, Goten had to study, and study he shall.

Trunks stretched his body, reveling in the satisfying cracks his bones made as he accustomed himself to losing the relaxed-state he had been experiencing. With a final groan he gathered his book, and he left the comfort the couch had provided. He rounded the coffee table slowly, and practically dropped into his space on the carpet next to Goten. He was too tired for this shit. "Go on."

Goten nodded, and read aloud: "'Janus is twice as old as Jakub. The sum of their ages is 5 times Jakub's age less than 48. How old are Janus and Jakub?'"

And then Goten began. Trunks waited, his eyes skimming through his book with little to no enthusiasm as he kneeled on the less than comfortable carpet. He rubbed his hand over his eyes and swallowed a yawn. He missed the couch.

All too soon, Goten was exclaiming: "Done!"

And it showed. "Did you even read the problem? How in the hell did you get 11? It asked for two ages and you put 11."

"See, this is why I need your help!" Goten said with a pout, and added in a mumble: "And I did read the problem..."

Before Trunks could assure him that, no, he clearly did not read the problem, Goten was scooting over so that their sides pressed together.

Trunks' words died on his lips as Goten—who must not have thought that Trunks' personal space was violated enough—wrapped his arm around his shoulders, his pale hand gripping him tightly.

"Come on; show me what I did wrong."

Trunks restrained himself from scowling, mainly because he couldn't summon the effort to shake the Son off. Goten's much unexpected arm was warm and oddly strong, which was ridiculous, because Trunks was just as strong (if not stronger). It was silly, but it made him picture Goten as the stereotypical boyfriend who probably carried heavy bags and won big prizes on tough arcade games. That is, if he was someone's boyfriend... which would probably then make the stereotypes a reality?

"Something wrong?" Goten questioned, which made Trunks realize he had zoned out for a moment. He gave a sideways glare as a reply.

The Son chuckled and turned his eyes back to his homework. "Okay, what did I do wrong?"

"Well for starters, you didn't combine the 'like terms'."

"What 'like terms'?" Goten questioned as his arm trailed down to grip Trunks' bicep. It was almost an innocent move, but Trunks knew better. Hardly anything Goten did nowadays was innocent. It was a wonder how he could still fly on that stupid yellow cloud of his that Trunks always seemed to fall through.

"Jakub's age is 'a', and Janus' age is '2a'. Those are the 'like terms'." Trunks said with a sigh that clearly stated how annoyed he was to be explaining something so simple. Or maybe he's annoyed that Goten always feels the need to touch him for no reason. Who knows?

"Oh ok, I see," Goten said as he moved the pencil with his free hand. Trunks wished that he could go back to reading his book—simply to have something else aside from Goten's grip to focus on—but there was no way he could execute such an act casually without jostling the Son's embrace, which despite how annoying it was, still managed to be almost nice.

"Okay, now what?" Goten asked, his voice maybe a bit lower than strictly casual. Along with his words, came his arm shifting down to Trunks' waist.

Trunks released air a bit roughly through his nose, and ignored the little tingle he felt in his chest. Damn him. "Isolate the variable."

"Got it," Goten nodded, and looked back at his work. Trunks stared down at his hands folded in his lap, before he realized how embarrassingly meek he must've looked, and leaned forward to cross his arms over the coffee table.

It must have been because of this slight movement that the younger boy's hand slipped down to his hip.

Trunks glanced at Goten out the corner of his eye, stilling any outward reaction he might have had. He had no control over the faster beating of his heart, however, and any ounce of tiredness was now gone from his being. The Son's eyes were still trained on the booklet in front of him, his face blank with concentration. Goten hated just about everything to do with academics, but he somehow managed to have the same look on his face that Gohan always did when he was focused. It was kind of cute... that is, if Trunks would allow himself to believe that Goten was cute.

It was almost like Goten didn't even notice where his hand was, but Trunks knew that was a lie. Goten definitely knew what he was doing—this Trunks had quickly caught on to a while ago. He would sit there, pretending that all on his mind was mathematics, while Trunks would be over here fighting a blush and the tingles in his navel. Goten's touch always had the most annoying effect on him, and the Son knew this well.

I should probably put a stop to this...

Goten's hand squeezed Trunks' hip, which in turn caused him to stutter: "W-what?"

"What do I do next?" Goten asked unfazed, concentration still etched on his face.

Trunks awkwardly cleared his throat. He hated being awkward. "You subtract '5a' from both sides."

Goten nodded, his pencil dancing against the page again. He stopped however to flip over his pencil, and erase whatever he had just wrote.

At the same time that the eraser was rubbing against the paper, Goten unexpectedly (but rather expectedly) slid his hand down to Trunks' butt.

Trunks inhaled roughly before he could stop himself. He had hoped for a moment that his embarrassing reaction had gone unnoticed, but it was obvious that it hadn't. Damn him.

Unlike before, Goten's hand was not still. Despite the fact that he was in the middle of solving a mathematical equation, it seemed that he could still focus enough to rub his hand in slow circles and randomly administer light squeezes. And to make matters worse, due to the thinness of his pants, Trunks could feel everything, especially the heat of Goten's palm. His inner tingles struck with a vengeance, but not only in his navel, but now also in his groin. Trunks' cheeks burned bright red, and he bit his lip to prevent any embarrassing sounds from seeping out. Honestly, moaning just because Goten was touching his butt. Then again, Goten did have such sinful hands...

So apparently Trunks' efforts to keep this ordeal as 'sex-free' as possible were for nothing. It was quickly becoming too late to turn back, because Goten now had him practically wrapped around his finger. Trunks' body was too sensitive, and Goten knew that. Goten was also thoroughly educated in just when and where to touch Trunks to have him literally be putty in his hands—right now, that's exactly what he was. It was embarrassing really how placidly he was sitting here, becoming further and further turned on with every stroke of Goten's hand, waiting for the moment that Goten would slide his other hand over; waiting for the moment when Goten would move them both past the waistband of his pants. He was hoping for Goten to strip him, and put his hands anywhere and everywhere he wanted. He wanted Goten to replace his fingers with his lips; he wanted Goten to kiss him. Yes, a kiss, that was what he definitely wanted, first before anything. How much longer would Goten make him wait? Probably forever, because he just loved to be a big fucking tease.

It took a moment for Trunks' thoughts to catch up with him, and once they did, he immediately felt shame for getting so far ahead of himself just because Goten decided to get a little handsy, especially when he was supposed to be overseeing the solving process of algebraic equations. It was a little late to do anything about it now, however. Goten had him. All he could do now was wait and see what he would do next.

Five minutes ago he was teasing Goten for continuously getting simple math problems incorrect, and now he was practically said Son's pet. Trunks would like the universe to explain how the fuck this happened.

"Trunks, look. Did I get it right?" Goten questioned, and Trunks blinked in surprise at being brought back to the here and now so abruptly.

"Huh?" he then noticed that Goten had completely finished the equation—he didn't even need to ask for the last step.

"Here, check and see if I got it right," Goten responded lowly, using the hand holding Trunks to pull him in. Trunks reluctantly leaned in closer, and found that it was increasingly difficult to focus on the numbers and letters of the booklet in front of him. Goten was much too close for comfort... or rather not close enough as far as his groin was concerned. Goten was near enough that Trunks could smell him; near enough that Trunks could feel his body heat through his clothing. Near enough that if he tilted his head the other way, he could capture Goten's lips with his. Just kiss me already.

It wasn't a kiss that Trunks got, but rather the act of Goten's face dropping into the crook of his neck and nuzzling, his lips brushing against his sensitized skin. Close enough.

Trunks gasped and gripped the table, focusing just enough not to break it. "Goten, stop it. You're supposed to be studying."

"I am studying," Goten reassured him, pressing kisses against his neck and squeezing the hand still on Trunks' backside.

Trunks' voice broke as he replied: "H-how is this studying?"

"I'm studying your body's reaction to stimulus, of course," Goten said, as if that answer was obvious.

Now, the proper thing for Trunks to do would have been to tell Goten that his body's reaction to his sexual advances had nothing to do with Janus and Jakub's respective ages, but he embarrassingly found himself not wanting too. At the moment all he could think about was his desire to have Goten touch him even further.

It seemed that his wish would come true because Goten was pulling him forward, and Trunks—taking the hint—climbed up to straddle the lap he's been wanting to sit in since he got here. Both of Goten's hands then slipped below the waistband of Trunks' trousers, tangling themselves in the bottoms of his underwear to rub and grip at as much skin as he wanted, his lips pressing hard kisses against Trunks'.

"Wait, Goten, your parents..." Trunks said through labored breaths as he pulled his mouth free. Despite his words, he held the Son tightly against him—he couldn't get away even if he wanted to.

Trunks shivered as Goten's words breathed against his neck, "F 'em. I'm paying attention."

But of course, Trunks still had protest. "I didn't finish grading your problem."

"I'm pretty sure I got it right," Goten said, massaging his hands upward, causing Trunks' underwear to ride up higher. "I had your help, after all."

Trunks whimpered. "Apparently that's all you need."

"Of course," Goten replied, kissing his temple. "This big brain of yours is all for me. Don't waste it on anyone else."

Trunks arched his brow. "You say some pretty weird possessive shit a lot. Like that time you said you don't like the way other dudes look at me."

Goten had said that a month or so back. It really wasn't all that important, hell, if Trunks didn't have a photographic memory he probably wouldn't even remember it. It was just something meaningless he'd said while they were out walking around the city. Apparently some guys had been staring at him (truthfully Trunks doubted such a thing ever happened, because really, why would a bunch of dudes want to stare at him?), and Goten had twisted up his nose in annoyance, and announced that he did not approve. They were laughing about it five seconds later, and that had been the end of it. Of course Trunks never took it as a big deal, but he couldn't see the harm in bringing up a past entertaining situation during such a light mood.

Goten shrugged his shoulders. "Of course I don't like other guys looking at you. You're mine."

Wait, what?

It took a moment for Trunks to process what had just been said, but by then he had already been pushed onto his back, his legs sprawled apart to accommodate his younger partner.

Okay so you just say some super crazy shit that you've NEVER said before and then give no explanation?

Apparently not, because Goten was muffling any words either of them could possibly say with his lips. That's just fucking great...

Trunks, however, was too dazed to stop Goten's lips from moving against him, and his teeth from nibbling on his bottom lip. All he could really do was hold onto Goten's shoulders and tilt his head for a better angle.

Stop thinking about it and let him kiss you. You can talk about it later.

Trunks' eyes rolled closed as he let out a loud moan that he would probably deny later into Goten's mouth. He was a bit annoyed when Goten lifted off of him, but it seemed that the delay was only so he could pull off that stupid shirt of his, and truly expose those pale muscles underneath. Then he was back on him, attacking Trunks' skin with his mouth. Trunks groaned, raking his hands up to push the headband off of Goten's forehead and drop it to the side, giving him the freedom to card his fingers deep into Goten's thick hair.

"You squirm when I put my lips on you," Goten said against his neck.

"What?"

"It doesn't matter where my lips are on you," Goten explained, "you always squirm."

Trunks twisted his head as a hint that he would like to make eye contact, but Goten apparently didn't care. "What does that have to do with anything?"

And as if the answer was obvious, Goten respond against him: "Didn't I say I was studying?"

Trunks paused for a moment, because he didn't immediately recall such a thing being said. He remembered quickly though, and felt his lips drop into a frown of annoyance. "Stop being ridicu- uh!"

"You moan and shudder when I suck your neck," Goten said in-between the act of doing just that; "Your body is always trying to move away even though you love it."

Trunks' cheeks darkened and he growled, "Shut up!"

Goten smiled but otherwise ignored him. Trunks continued to scowl, even when Goten hooked his fingers in the bottom of his shirt. He was irritated, and Goten wasn't helping his case by pushing his shirt up until it bunched underneath his arms, causing tingles to spark against the skin Goten brushed with his fingers. Trunks' brow twitched in annoyance, but otherwise exhibited no form of protest as Goten kissed down his neck and collarbone until he reached his chest.

Trunks isn't sure why he whimpered and squirmed when Goten kissed his nipple, because he had obviously seen it coming. He does however know why he's pissed off.

He's pissed off, because he could feel Goten smirking against his skin. "Told you."

If the blush of embarrassment had ever really left his face, it was certainly back now. "Fuck you!"

"Mm, I wish," Goten replied, which almost caught Trunks off guard—mainly because he couldn't tell how serious the younger boy was with that statement (or how serious he wanted Goten to be), but it hardly mattered after Goten stuck out his tongue and flicked it.

"Hmm, Goten, don't!" Trunks nearly shouted, pushing his hands against Goten's head.

"Why? You like it; you're so sensitive here," Goten responded, his hot breath caressing Trunks' skin in the most intentional way.

"Y-yeah, but..." I'm already about to lose my shit and I would prefer not to embarrass myself even further if I can help it.

"Relax," Goten said, gripping Trunks' wrists and pushing them to the carpet. "I love touching you here."

I don't care!

That's what he would have liked to have said, but he didn't trust his voice. He bit down on his lip hard, but he couldn't stop the whimpers that escaped him. Goten was right of course: Trunks does like being teased here. Somehow over the few times Trunks ever allowed this, Goten managed to become some type of professional, which was both fortunate and unfortunate for Trunks.

Trunks gasped out, his leg curling around the younger boy's thigh unconsciously. Goten at this point had stopped swirling his tongue and was now licking up slowly, his clouded eyes staring up at him. Goten was also right about him trying to move away, but he couldn't get far with his wrists still pinned. All Trunks could to do was attempt to hold back any weird noises he might make while he squirmed and shook his head back and forth, his legs squeezing Goten's lower half most likely to the point of fatality.

He gasped in relief when Goten lifted off of him, but it quickly changed to irritation when Goten said: "You make cute noises; let me hear them."

"I'm going to break your neck," Trunks panted, his face burning.

"Only you can make that sound hot," Goten replied with a smile. Trunks was not quite sure what to reply to that aside from 'shut up', but he didn't want to stutter and give off some type of 'tsundere' vibe or whatever (as if he hadn't already.)

It seemed that he wouldn't be required to reply, because Goten was dropping over him again, forming his lips over his previously neglected nipple, trapping it in the heat of his mouth. Following this of course was suction, which sent such a delicious spike of feeling through Trunks that he cried out. If anything, that only seemed to encourage Goten further, who circled his tongue hidden behind his lips, all while sucking the life out of the older boy.

No more, dammit, I can't take anymore...

Unfortunately it seemed that Goten could not hear his internal thoughts, because his tongue had stopped swirling, and was now flicking back and forth rapidly, not unlike how an immature boy would do around his friends. Sure it seemed obnoxious, but when during actual sexual activity, it was anything but. Trunks could vouch for that because he was screaming now, his body bucking, all while his head thrashed back in forth, trying but failing to get away from Goten's tongue. His face felt like it was on fire and he was barely getting any air through his moans. His whole body was buzzing, and his groin was practically sizzling...

"Ahh-ahh, ohh, please, Goten, stop!" Stop before I come right here. Oh gods that would be so embarrassing...

Goten surprisingly obeys, lifting off of him with his signature annoying grin on his face. Trunks tried to glare but it was hard to be menacing while he was in the process of catching his lost breath. His chest was still tingling, practically aching for Goten's tongue to finish what it started... not that Trunks would give him that satisfaction, of course. He did have some pride after all, and he would not jeopardize it for such a superficial reason.

Nope, he would not give in, even if the thought of Goten bringing him to release with just his lips on his nipples was rather hot...

Trunks groaned and scrubbed his hands hard over his cheeks (his attempt to somehow physically forced his stupid flush away), before moving them to cover his eyes. "Dammit, Goten, now my chest is going to be sore."

Goten's smile almost seemed genuine. "I'm sorry. Forgive me?"

Trunks huffed because, no, he intended to do no such thing.

"You're so cute. That's a fact, by the way." Goten said suddenly, a bright nearly innocent smile greeting Trunks as his hands flew from his face.

"I swear I'm going to fucking kill y-!"

Trunks found it very annoying that Goten liked to cut him off with his stupid kisses, but apparently said Son didn't care very much. Not only were Goten's hands sinful, but also was his tongue, and he made sure to use it to his advantage. Trunks' mouth—just like the rest of his body—was rather sensitive, and unfortunately Goten wasn't the type to kiss slowly. He also had confidence, which meant he never hesitated—not even when he went to stick his tongue as far into Trunks mouth as he could.

Trunks muffled against his lips as his groin tingled. The Son's tongue dipped and licked around through Trunks' mouth, as if there was actually some type of addictive taste there that he couldn't get enough of. One of Goten's hands was against Trunks' cheek, tilting it whichever way he wanted, while his other hiked Trunks' leg around his waist. Goten's tongue swirled all over, licking and thrusting so hard and so fast that Trunks head spun. By now he had forgiven the Son for his stupid comment, and kissed back just as hard. His tongue rode against Goten's, his hands rubbing up and down from his shoulder and back and waist. Despite his participation, it was quite clear that Goten was the one in control—a fact Trunks reveled in. Yes, it was embarrassingly strange how easily he would become a moaning, arching, shivering mess just from the different strokes of Goten's tongue (or anything Goten did to him, really). It wasn't strange enough to make him stop, however.

If anything, Trunks was more embarrassed by how good it felt to be blushing and writhing under Goten like his own personal whore but well, even Trunks could admit that there were some battles worth losing.

It was a few moments later that Goten lifted his lips off of him, their tongues still connected by a thin line of saliva that Trunks would probably find really gross at any other moment except for this one. The older boy panted, sucking in the air that he had been dangerously lacking, as he stared at the Son directly in front of him. Goten was so close that their noses touched and the hot breath that he too panted out blew against his lips, but Trunks was still able to see the brush of red over his normally-pale cheeks, and the already swollen quality of his lips, and even that look in his eye. It was a look of sexual desire that most junior high school boys could only dream about experiencing. Goten had very nice eyes, but they always seemed especially pleasant when he had that look—his obvious need—in them.

Not that Trunks really needed to see that look in his eyes to see his obvious need. He could feel it on his thigh—so very close to his own—after all.

Goten took another few breathes, before saying in a matter-of-fact manner: "You love when I kiss you; so much that it embarrasses you."

Trunks' brow twitched. "You're still doing that?"

Goten grinned slyly as he replied: "You also like it when I touch your butt," and to prove his point, did just that. Trunks jolted in surprise before he could catch himself. Thoroughly annoyed with the tingles that shot through his body and Goten's stupid knowing smile, he scowled.

Goten was right, of course (about the whole hand on his ass thing), but Trunks still found it in himself to grit out: "Remember that thing I said about breaking your neck?"

Goten smiled, clutching Trunks' butt in his hand, the other braced against the floor by his head. "And it's still just as strangely hot as it was before. Why do you look irritated? I'm only speaking the truth."

"Maybe because you're annoying as hell?"

"Ah, but you'll forgive me." Goten responded. To drive his point home, he tightened his grip on Trunks' backside, braced his other hand next to his lavender head, and rocked his hips down.

Trunks released a breath and bit his lip. He wished that Goten's stupid sweatpants weren't so fucking thick, but just the feeling of the Son's weight against his crotch was almost enough to make up for it. "I'll forgive you if you shut the fuck up."

Goten snickered. "But I'd be disobeying your whole 'studying rule' now wouldn't I?" He rocked his hips down again.

By now Goten had established a rhythm of sorts that had Trunks groaning and spreading his legs further apart, but of course, who would Trunks be if he didn't have his famous moments contradictory-ness? "You're supposed to be studying Algebra, Goten, not me."

"Yeah, but we both know I'm not going to be using Algebra after high school. This is information that I will definitely use in real life."

Trunks contemplated responding with something of the sarcastic variety, but decided against it. Goten probably couldn't have said anything more corny than what he just did, but despite this, he somehow managed to add a bit of sweetness to the mood, and Trunks doesn't want to ruin it just yet. Besides, there would always be more chances to baffle the shit out of Goten with his intellectual cleverness—preferably when his hand is not on his butt, and his dick four-layers away from his.

"Damn," Goten says against his cheek. "I was certain that comment would make you try to baffle me with your intellectual cleverness."

"It's not too late, if that's what you'd prefer," Trunks replied once he finished rolling his eyes, "but I figured you would rather get a move on with whatever it is you're doing. You know, before I change my mind."

"Ah, right," Goten replies. He looks like he wants to say something else (probably something annoying), but ultimately decides against it, and lifts off of him.

Trunks furrows his brow to show that he wasn't amused by whatever the fuck Goten was trying to pull, until the Son responded with: "Sorry, but this is starting to bug me."

Trunks wasn't quite sure what he meant until Goten's fingers hooked through the waistband of his pants. It was only a second later when Trunks' trousers were pulled completely from his legs. The air felt chilly against his thighs and he has the slightest urge to drop his hands down and cover himself like some maiden on her wedding night. He doesn't of course, and he was almost annoyed with himself for even entertaining such an action. It was only almost though, because at this point he's so far gone that he really just doesn't care anymore. He's not exactly sure what they're going to do—all he knows is that it better happen now.

Trunks snapped back to reality (how long had he been out of it?) as Goten tossed his pants aside. The Son was about to drop back over him, but Trunks stopped him with a hand on his chest.

To Goten's questioning gaze he answered: "You too."

The Son blinked for a second, before his mouth formed an 'O' in realization. Fucking moron...

Trunks wasn't really in the mood to further speculate on Goten's idiocy, and instead situated himself upward. Quickly he hooks his fingers in the waistband of Goten's sweatpants, and all but yanks them down just past his thighs. Trunks didn't feel like wasting the time to get Goten properly undressed, so the sweats were left be as he pulled Goten back on top of him. Goten went eagerly, crushing Trunks against the carpet, his lips on his again. The room was silent aside from the smacking sounds their lips made, and the grunts that fell from them. Goten's hands were everywhere all over him: stroking the skin of his sides and hips, cushioning his head from the floor he was being pressed into. Trunks' hands were everywhere too: shoulders, sides, neck and hair; anywhere they could get. As adamant as Trunks had appeared, he was truthfully glad that things had turned out the way they did. Whether they were playing video games in a bedroom, sparring outside, occupying Trunks' house, or even studying in Goten's boring ass living room, making out could always make it better. Really, what else could be more fun and satisfying?

When Goten ground against him again, Trunks was caught rather alarmingly off guard. The sparks of pleasure he felt in the apex of his thighs, however, was enough for Trunks' to forgive the younger boy for surprising him. Going from four-layers too only two made a very big difference.

When Goten pushed down again, Trunks found his words. "Are you sure this is okay?"

"It's fine, it's fine," Goten said against his lips. He kissed him again, sucking on his bottom lip while he rocked forward again. Trunks moaned out, his hands clutching the warm skin of Goten's waist as the younger boy drove his hips down.

Goten gave him one final kiss before rising up, his hands bracing themselves on either side of Trunks' head. The older boy rolled his eyes upward to stare at him; Goten's black eyes stared back at him. The Son was silent, watching him as if he was studying. His hair fell down around his face, his skin appearing to be so much darker due to the way he was blocking the ceiling light. Goten really was beautiful person; Trunks would never understand why all the girls came after him first before trying to work their ways into Goten's good graces. Why could they not tell from the get-go that Goten was clearly the better option?

Goten rolled his hips again. Trunks felt oddly exposed this way, especially with the way those eyes watched him, and he debated whether or not he should pull down the t-shirt that was still bunched under his arms—simply to make him feel less indecent. He never got the chance to decide, because Goten ground his hips down just hard enough to have them both moaning out, their respective briefs having just the right quality of thinness to be able to feel everything.

"Mm, Goten," Trunks gasped out, his hands clutching Goten's hips, pulling him in with every roll of his hips.

Goten responded by propelling his crotch down hard. It was like he was dancing the way he rolled his hips, still somehow managing to establish some type of rhythm that had Trunks spreading his knees even further apart. Every movement of Goten's lower half had Trunks arching and shivering. Pleasure sparked all throughout his body, but he still somehow managed to want more.

"You like it when I grind against you," Goten spoke between doing just that.

Trunks' brow twitched so hard it almost hurt. "No kidding. How'd you figure that out?" Why the fuck wouldn't I like someone grinding against my dick?

"I think you missed what I was implying. You like it when I grind against you, preferably while you're on your back. You like being underneath me, and letting me have my way with you." Goten smirked. "Oh yeah, I know."

Trunks felt blood rush up his neck all the way to his ears. Of course Goten just couldn't keep that one observation to himself. It wasn't like Trunks could deny such claims—that would only serve humiliate him further.

He didn't have to confirm them either. "Will you just shut up and go faster?"

Goten paused for a second, which had Trunks thinking he had somehow ruined the mood with his simple request, only to realize that his partner was lifting up and shifting to be more stable on his knees. Goten hands pushed Trunks' arms to the floor right as he dipped his crotch down again, but it wasn't quite like before.

Trunks moaned out partially in surprise, but Goten didn't stop this time. His hips came down harder—hard enough that Trunks' body jolted against the carpet with each drive. He tossed his head back and groaned out as Goten rode against him. This wasn't anything like the rolling that Goten had been doing before. Now Goten was truly thrusting against him, his upper body jerking and his drooping hair waving with every move.

It's like he's really fucking me...

No, that was a weird thing to think about. Even still, had their actions not already been making Trunks feel hot all over, than that thought definitely would have. It was strange to think about being fucked (by his childhood friend no less), but given the present circumstances, could he really be blamed for having such thoughts? When did Goten learn moves like this? Trunks didn't really have much experience (none really), but he was almost certain that Goten's hips were rocking against him like a pro.

He probably practices on his pillow or something... Pervert.

Trunks' calves somehow found themselves wound around the backs of Goten's thighs, pulling him down harder and faster against him. They were being loud, way too loud, Trunks could admit. If they kept it up like this, they would certainly get caught.

"What are you thinking about?" Goten questioned, his lidded eyes staring down at him, a sexy little grin on his face; "me fucking you, maybe?"

"Mm, yes." I really just said that out loud...

Goten hummed in agreement. "We should try that soon."

"Yes, really soon..."

Goten chuckled a little. "You're so honest today."

Goten was right again of course, and Trunks would probably die from embarrassment once this was all over, but right now he didn't care. He felt too good to care.

Trunks pulled his arms free from Goten's grip, and reached up to wrap them around his back. He pulled the Son down to connect their lips, effectively muffling any noises they might make. Goten kissed back just as hard, his hips riding Trunks faster, said older boy matching his pace. Trunks body felt painfully hot all over, and he had no choice but to rip his lips away, desperately trying to suck air back in. He either did not notice or care now about how loud he was being as cried out, his nails digging into the skin of the Son's back. His body bucked wildly beneath the one moving on top of him, his name being moaned over and over into his ear.

It was a shame that they had had all this build up, only for their climax to be short lived. To look at it realistically though, it made sense considering their age. To be completely honest they probably shouldn't even be doing this...

Well, too late now.

Light flashed behind Trunks' eyelids as his body arched as far off the carpet as it could, tightening around Goten's as his orgasm hit him. He bit down on his lip while the younger boy rode him fast, carrying Trunks through one of the best releases he had ever had. It was only a moment later that Goten was stiffening, his hips still jerking forward as he bit down on Trunks' shoulder, muffling his groan. It was a few seconds later when he relaxed completely.

Both boys spent the next minute or so this way: wrapped around each other, trying to level their own breathing. Trunks skimmed his hands up and down Goten's back to make sure that his nails hadn't broken any skin. They hadn't.

Trunks' hand rubbed against his forehead, smearing his sweat as he pushed back his bangs. There was something he had meant to question Goten about, and he was wracking his orgasm-clouded brain for the answer. Such a wonderful photographic memory he had.

Oh, yeah, that thing he said about me being his. I'm supposed to ask what he meant by that.

Well, obviously Goten meant that he Trunks was his, Goten was too simple to try and come up with riddles and underlying meanings and the like. Still, wasn't that kind of a big deal? Or at least a big enough deal that they should probably talk about it?

Trunks glanced down at the Son resting peacefully against his shoulder. He supposed it could wait; it wasn't like Goten cared either way. Besides, all of the fatigue that Trunks had been feeling was beginning to catch up to him, and he was completely prepared to just go to sleep right on this less than comfortable carpet.

It seemed that that was not to be the case, because suddenly Goten flew up, his voice dripping with panic. "Put your clothes on!"

It was a good thing that Trunks was not an idiot like Goten, because he didn't question as he leaned over to grab his pants. Not that he needed too because now that he was paying attention, he could feel an energy signal rapidly approaching the front door. Fuck.

Trunks was forcing his pants back over his legs while Goten was struggling to put on his t-shirt. Trunks yanked his own shirt back down, and had just enough time to grab his discarded novel and flip to a random page before the door swung up. He glanced up at the woman who strode in with mock disinterest, before quickly turning back to his book, so as not to drive attention to his still-flushed cheeks. He brought his free arm up to rest on the table while his hand cradled the side of his face, effectively hiding any marks that Goten may have left on him. He really wanted to change his underwear.

"Hi, Mom," Goten said brightly.

"Goten," his mother greeted. Trunks could feel her eyes on him, and he forced himself to keep from shifting in nervousness.

If Chi-Chi felt something was amiss, she must have decided to keep it too herself. The woman moved to stand behind the couch, and directed her eyes toward her son. "How are your studies coming along? I hope Trunks hasn't been giving you answers."

Trunks snickered as Goten huffed. "No, Mom, I'm doing my own work. I'm almost done actually."

"Well keep up the good work, sweetheart. I just stopped in to get another glass of lemonade."

By another glass she meant the whole pitcher. "Did you want any of this before I go back out? God forbid your father actually save some for someone else," she spoke as she exited the kitchen.

"No thanks, Mom. Have fun." Chi-Chi returned the sentiment, and left through the door she'd came from.

Trunks released the breath he hadn't even realized he was holding. When he trailed his eyes over, he could see that Goten felt similar. To think, they had almost been caught with their arms around each other and their pants around their ankles just so Chi-Chi could get a fucking beverage...

"Well," Goten said suddenly, a cheeky grin on his face. "I think it's safe to say that that was the most fun I have ever had doing a math problem."

Trunks rolled his eyes, combing his fingers through his mussed hair. "Glad you enjoyed yourself with that perfect example of a waste of time."

Goten's eyes were bright as he scooted closer. "So did I get the answer right? The math problem, I mean."

Trunks blinked, before turning his eyes toward the neglected textbook. Nice to see that there was two answers instead of one this time. "Yeah, you did. Good job."

"Ha-ha, success!" Goten exclaimed. "Do I get a victory kiss?"

Trunks rolled his eyes but obliged him, pressing their lips together for perhaps a second longer than strictly necessary.

Goten grinned, pressing their foreheads together. "Mm, you're going to be annoyed, but I'm already wanting round 2."

Trunks arched his brow. "You do realize that you've still got over 100 more math problems and two whole sections of biology and history to do, right?"

"I feel like crying," Goten said, his head dropping down pitifully against his shoulder. Trunks almost felt bad for him.

"I'm going to use your bathroom," Trunks announced, nudging the Son off of him. Thank god he had a change of clothes...

"Okay," Goten replied, staring down at his textbook with nothing short of depression.

Trunks paused in his retreat. He definitely felt bad now...

"Alright, I'll make a deal with you," Trunks spoke before he could change his mind. "If you finish all of your studies today... we'll do your version of studying for as long as you want tonight..."

Goten's head whipped up so quickly that Trunks feared his threats of breaking his neck might really have jinxed him. "Really, you're serious?"

Trunks flushed, as the full force of his offer hit him. "I—uh... yeah. But you better finish all of it. I'm not helping you either."

"You got it!" Goten assured, and to prove his point, turned back to his textbook with complete determination.

Trunks stood for a moment, watching Goten scratch his pencil against the booklet, before rolling his eyes and turning away. He walked down towards the hallway, picking up the bag he had brought on the way. Once he reached the bathroom, he locked the door behind him, and tried but failed to not feel giddy about the thought of tonight.

The End