Welcome to Boxer & Rice

“Retrospectively, it wasn’t the brightest thing I’ve ever done,” I admit sarcastically.

“That’s obvious,” my best friend states, wincing with me as I pull the towel away from my split lip. “What’d you do to piss him off, anyway?”

I raise my brows, testing the broken skin with my tongue. “I didn’t do anything. I just…said some stuff and he flew off the handle.”

Goten sits back and his expression falls. “Niichan doesn’t just ‘fly off the handle’, Trunks-kun.”

Rolling my eyes, I sit back. Ok, so I lied, just a little.

“You provoked him, didn’t you?”

“Ok, now wait a second!” I protest. I can hear the accusative tone in his voice and it kinda pisses me off. I mean, I’m the one bleeding! “We were just working and joking around and stuff and the next thing I know he’s got this crazy look in his eye and I’m up against the wall, ok?”

Goten blinks. I sorta hold my breath. His eyes narrow just that little bit and I know I’m fucked.

Sometimes I really hate having a best friend that’s known me as long as he has.

“You’re so full of shit, Trunks-kun.”

I deflate against the back of the couch and tongue my lip.

“No fucking sympathy, eh? You friggin’ Sons are thicker than thieves.”

He quirks me a smile. I avert my eyes. It’s the most unfair thing on the planet. The way they defend each other really irritates the shit outta me. I mean, Goten should be loyal to me. I stick my neck out for him all the time, defending him. Ok, so I’m the one that gets him on the chopping block most days but that’s not the point!

“He’s my brother, Trunks-kun–“

“Yeah,” I snap, tossing the towel onto the chaos of Goten’s coffee table. It’s cute he finally has his own apartment. Even if it is just two rooms and the couch I’m on is also his bed. I rest my elbows on my knees and run my hands through my hair.

I hear him sigh. He never knows what to do when I’m annoyed and it agitates him. He rubs his palms over the torn knees of his pants and gnaws on his lower lip.

“So what’d you say to him?” he ventures, scratching the top of his head. He’s grown into the very image of his father and I know it’s really unnerving to just about everyone but me. I’m almost done being angry; I exhale heavily and flop backward, my fingers linked behind my head.

“Some stuff, he was being really wishy-washy about what he wanted, so I told him to grow a pair–but I was just kidding!” My lip throbs and it occurs to me that I probably got off lightly.

“Trunks-kun…” Goten says quietly and I know it’s coming. The voice of my conscience.

“He’s your teacher, right?”

I shrug, I could give a shit. The only voice of authority I listen to is my father’s and it’s for the simple reason that I know he wouldn’t settle for a busted lip if I ever mouthed off to him.

“So?” I ask scathingly. “I stayed after class to ask him about the midterm because I missed Monday and he started to lecture me about taking responsibility and shit–“

“I thought you were ‘working and joking around’,” Goten pointed out.

“Ok, I lied,” I admit, raising my hands defensively. “But if you’re gonna use the teacher excuse, then he shouldn’t’ve fucking hit me, right?”

My best friend shakes his head, twisting from his perch on the table to drop beside me. He rests his head against my shoulder and closes his eyes.

“You provoked Niichan because he pulled rank on ya, huh?” He wraps his arms around one of mine; the top spikes of his hair tickle my nose.

I jerk a shoulder dismissively. “Maybe.” I clear my throat.

He looks up at me, his eyes dark and wide and soft. I swallow but it’s hard. I hate that he can do this to me.

“You’re supposed to respect your teachers, Trunks-kun.”

Setting my jaw, I look away, across the stack of video games, open text books, and a half-eaten donut. The place is a wreck. I have no doubt that Goten knows exactly where everything is. That’s the amazing thing about him. He can take a cluster fuck of confusion and make sense of it, like me, for example.

“You’re not my fucking mother,” I grumble. It’s kinda pathetic and Goten laughs and squeezes my arm.

“Thank Dende-sama. The idea of seeing your father naked scares the shit outta me.”

There’s an injustice to the fact that Son Gohan is a teacher at my college and it’s only compounded by the fact that I’m in one of his classes. Objectively speaking, maybe it’s not so surprising. Curry College is ranked one of the best in the world. It’s only natural that I’d go there, right? The science building’s even named after my grandfather and Capsule Corporation’s given so much money to the place I should be able to go there for free.

But I don’t. What I’m saying is it’s hard to get into and I hear they’re even more selective about their faculty than they are their students. So the fact that I’m-a-genius Son Gohan works there isn’t so surprising.

This doesn’t stop it from pissing me off, though.

See, when I went to college it was my big break away from my parents and all that Capsule Corp. stuff. I’m not the only celebrity at Curry, so it’s pretty much a given that you leave that shit at home. I was totally into that. I even started living in the dorms. I want to be my own person, don’t worry, I wasn’t having a crisis or anything, I just didn’t want to be defined by my family’s business. Curry offered me that. It still does but when I left it all back in West Capital, I really meant all of it. Aside from seeing Goten on the weekends, I hit the books hard and didn’t look back.

Because maybe I didn’t want to spend my life in the workshop. I like machines and shit, that’s not the point. But between my mother’s machines and my father’s insistence that strength was everything, I got tired of it. I’m my own person. I’ll do whatever the hell I want.

My first year was awesome. I knew that Gohan worked on campus; it’s a small college but I didn’t have him for classes and avoided him like the plague. The last thing I needed in my life was someone who had known me since I was a fucking toddler. I made a few new acquaintances but kept to myself for the most part. That’s another thing we do here. See, when we all get into the big, bad world and inherit our family biz, there’s a huge chance we’re gonna be grandfathered in as enemies, you know? So, it doesn’t pay to get close to someone you’re gonna need to back stab later.

Then came Son-fucking-Gohan acting from the first day like he’d known me forever. Fourth semester in and I’m riding high until I read his name on my syllabus. This proves my theory about conspiracies involving the TBA column under instructor when you sign up for a course. I never would have taken his class if I had known he was the teacher. I don’t need that drama in my life; like it or not, it’s genetic with those damn Sons. They can’t pretend, each and every one of them wears their hearts on their sleeves, like Goten, for instance. I know he’s got it bad for me, it’s so stupid-obvious, not that I’m gonna do anything about it. And fuck up everything? Are you kidding?

His father’s the same way, Son Goku, regular emotional basis for everything he does. It’s almost sad how simple they are. Gohan’s the same way; there’s no mistaking how he feels about me.

He hates me, whenever he sees me he gets, like, this look in his eye halfway between dread and disgust. Like he can’t believe he has to deal with me.

So of course, I tell him to shove it every chance I get. You think I’m gonna take that? Seriously? He’s been giving me a hard time since day one. Everything I turn in to him isn’t good enough; I know he grades me harder than everyone else. I’m the only one sliding by with a C and that’s fucked up because I know I work harder than most of them.

I’m not a fucking scholar, come on, hang out and socialize. But I know what I’m there for, too and if he fucks it up by bringing down my GPA, I’m gonna lose it.

Royally.

It’s ultimately because of him that I’m still on campus this late on a Friday. My fucking computer crashed last night; I can fix it but it’ll take me a couple of days, and I’ll be damned if I give him any more reasons to fail me by not turning in my assignment on Monday.

So it’s me, a quiet computer lab, a smuggled cup of coffee and the ancients tonight. Generally speaking, I love the classics. There’s so much bullshitting in philosophy that I feel right at home, usually. You know, when I’m not trying to impress Mister Stick-up-the-ass who thinks I’ve gotten as far as I have by charisma alone.

If that were the case, I’d go to bed more often with a warm body instead of a cold book, you know what I mean?

I rub the bridge of my nose and adjust my glasses. I hate that I need them for reading; I thought being half super-human meant not having to have things like glasses or braces or whatevers but Goten still doesn’t let me live down that I wear a retainer at night, the last vestiges of the metal-mouth of my youth. So much for being super-human.

Linking my fingers, I arch them away from my body and feel them crack. I’ve been at this shit for hours and I’m really ready to be done with it. I had more than twelve pages written when my computer kicked it and just the thought of that injustice makes me want to go ballistic. One of these days I should just make like my father and tell the whole world to fuck off. Wouldn’t that be awesome?

Groaning, I down the last of my coffee and stare at the bottom of the empty cup. The campus café has long since closed and the last classes are getting out for the weekend; the occasional student walks by the glass windows of the computer lab, mostly on cell phones. Thinking of it, I check my own but all that’s there is a predictable text from Goten about meeting up tomorrow. I briefly consider calling it quits for the night before thinking better of it. If I stop now, I won’t get back to it and it’ll be Monday morning before I know it.

And I’ll be screwed.

No way in hell I’m letting him win by doing exactly what he expects me to.

“I’m gonna need more coffee…”

I hear his voice before I see him; I sulk a little down in my chair and hope he doesn’t see me.

With hair like mine? Dream on, Trunks…fucking. Dream. On.

“I’ll see you on Monday!” A student trots by the room, fishing through her bag and pulling out a phone. I wait, hands paused over the keyboard for Gohan to follow.

Is Dende out to lunch or something? What the fuck?

“I’m surprised to see you here so late.”

I don’t turn. I flip through the book at my side instead and pretend to read.

“Yeah, well, I had a date with the masters I couldn’t pass up.”

He walks into the lab; I see him out of the corner of my eye in his pressed khakis and his sweater vest looking so much older than he is.

“You’re working on your paper?”

I turn another page and jot something illegible down in my notebook.

“Last I knew, you hadn’t changed the due date.”

His brow furrows. He rests his weight against the table further down and puts his coat and briefcase in the chair beside him.

“You’re not just starting it, are you?”

I grit my teeth and the corner of my eye twitches in irritation. I really don’t need this right now.

“Actually, I am. Is there a problem, sensei?”

There it is. That look. I wanna just rip it off his face and feed it to him.

“Trunks, do you really think three days is going to produce the kind of quality required? I gave you three weeks to work on this.”

I take a deep breath; it takes everything I have not to slam the book shut and leave or beat the shit out of him. I’m kinda undecided.

Turning in my seat, I face him.

“I had twelve pages written before my computer crashed last night. I am well aware of the deadline and the likelihood that you’re gonna take one look at this and tell me it’s shit anyway,” I say tightly. “But it’ll be done, ok?”

Gohan’s look changes subtly. I can’t tell if he buys it or not. It’s the actual truth this time; not that it matters. Pushing up his glasses, he sighs quietly and stands.

“Trunks…I know you probably think I’m treating you unfairly–“

“Wait,” I interrupt, holding up a hand. “Just so I’m clear–are we talking about the way you ride me in class or the fact that you punched me earlier this week?” I smile sweetly. “I’m just curious.”

The older man’s eyes narrow; it makes my blood quicken and my fighting instinct kicks in. I’d really be happy to settle this right now, fist to fist. This weird civilized game we’re playing is only gonna last so long anyway.

He folds his arms over his chest. “What you said to me was highly inappropriate.”

I bark with laughter, cocking my head. “Really? I think it was a valid suggestion considering the way you’ve been treating me.”

His face darkens with embarrassment. “I know what you’re capable of and I don’t think you’re living up to your potential.”

“That’s a cliché line of bullshit, Gohan,” I reply, standing and facing him; he’s taller than me by a hand's span. I wonder how we match in strength. “And I was serious about what I said. I feel like the only way I can get an A in your class is on my knees.” I brace my hands on my hips. “You’ve torn apart every fucking thing I’ve written for you this semester like I’ve personally offended you or something.”

“Is this how you treat all your teachers, Trunks?” Gohan snaps. He’s obviously unimpressed.

“Is this how you treat all your students?” I retort. “I work my ass off in your class and you just wave me off like I’m not even trying!”

For a moment it looks like he’s gonna hit me again and I almost cringe. It doesn’t matter that I’m more than human–he’s got fists of steel and they hurt. Then that infuriating calm overcomes him. Tugging his bag and coat from the chair, he drapes them both over his arm.

“It’s obvious we have unresolved issues but I’m not going to argue with you in the middle of the computer lab. If you still feel this way on Monday morning, you can come see me during my office hours.” Turning abruptly, he stalks toward the door.

“Have a fantastic weekend, sensei!” I yell on his way out, falling back into my seat. Looking at my work, I sigh, pulling my hair back from my face. “I know I fucking will.”

“So you had to write the whole thing over again?” Goten asks, his mouth full pizza. I nod, grabbing a slice and flicking the play button.

“Yeah,” I say, my voice weighty with the intensity of it. I mean, I’m entitled to a little sympathy right now, you know? “The whole fucking thing all fifteen pages of it.”

“That sucks,” Goten replies, sliding down beside me on the bed. It’s the only place to sit in my dorm room aside from the desk but I wouldn’t wish hours in that chair on anybody’s ass but mine.

He munches quietly through the preview, warm against me in a borrowed pair of pjs that are a little short on him because it’s somehow funny to the gods that everyone I know is fucking taller than I am. My father’s genetic contribution strikes again.

I take a deep swallow of soda and settle in to enjoy the show. I’ve got at least six hours before dawn and another two on top of that before his class. I’m gonna enjoy the remainder of my weekend if it kills me.

“Did you really offer to suck off my brother?”

I snort, getting bubbles up my nose and blinking back tears.

“What?”

Goten sits up a little. “What you said earlier about why he hit you.”

“I didn’t say that!” I protest, wiping my nose on my sleeve.

“Well, not exactly,” my best friend admits with a grin. “But I’ve known you long enough to know what you really mean, Trunks-kun.”

“Are you shitting me?!” I’m flabbergasted. “How the fuck did you get that out of what I said?”

He looks at me blankly and then bursts into laughter, almost falling off the bed.

“The look on your face–!” he wheezes. “That was perfect!”

Growling, I down the last of the soda and throw the can at his head. When it hits, he does fall out of the bed; I poke my face over the side and glare.

“You asked him, didn’t you?” He’s still convulsing with laughter and I barely notice that the movie has started. “You little shit! Tell me what he said!”

Goten struggles into a sitting position and clasps his ankles like he used to do when we were kids. Wiping the tears from his eyes, he snickers.

“Well, it was obvious you were lying to me, Trunks-kun, so I asked Niichan what really happened.” He sniffs with a smile, looking up at me. “He’s pretty indignant about it.”

Huffing, I flop onto my back with my head hanging over the edge of the bed. “Yeah, well it’s true. The only way I’m gonna get an A is if I bend over for it.”

Goten’s unusually quiet; I arch my back to get a better look at him. He tilts his head.

“Have you ever done it, Trunks-kun?”

There’s a sudden knot in my stomach. “Done what?”

He shrugs, pulling his legs up to his chest. “You know, that.”

Swallowing upside down is a feat but I manage. “Uh, well, sure, some stuff.”

He nods like he’s thinking about it, or something. I close my eyes and try not to freak out. Goten and I have pretty much steered clear of any conversations involving sex since we realized what we were supposed to do with our hard-ons when we were thirteen. I’ve known for awhile that Goten’s affectionate tendencies are more than just friendly and I really haven’t wanted to encourage them. I mean, maybe someday, yeah, I could see being with Goten.

But I’m nineteen for fuck’s sake. I don’t want any…weirdness…you know? Relationships are hard. My parents taught me that. They take a lot of effort. Hell, I can barely make time for all my homework. How would I make a relationship work…?

“Have you ever really thought about doing that with Niichan?”

I open my eyes slowly and they widen incredulously. I roll over onto my stomach; my head spins a little as the blood rushes back down to the rest of my body.

“Are you asking me if I want to fuck your brother?”

Goten doesn’t even have the decency to blush. See, I knew this about him. Maybe it’s because of me, maybe it’s something else, but he’s not as totally cute and innocent as he comes across.

This dialogue, though, it throws me. I didn’t see it coming at all.

“Well, do you, Trunks-kun?”

I stare. My mouth might even fall open. “Are you out of your fucking mind?”

My best friend shrugs and looks down at his feet, scratching under the elastic of his sock. “No, Niichan’s a good lookin’ guy. He’s just uptight.”

I push into a kneeling position, shaking my head. “Wait, wait, wait. Are you suggesting that I have sex with Gohan?” I look down at the person I’ve known forever like I’ve never seen him before. “Because that’s really fucked up, Goten.”

He looks me in the eye. “I’ve done it.”

I fall back on my ass. “W-what…?”

Goten licks his lips like maybe he’s not so sure now and shrugs again, rubbing the back of his neck. “We’ve done stuff together. When we were younger. We shared the same room for years…”

I don’t even know what my expression is like. I can barely breathe. “You…and Gohan?”

He shifts. “Well, yeah. We’re brothers.”

I blink. I’m kinda incoherent. “And brothers fuck each other?”

Goten actually giggles. “I don’t know, maybe. We didn’t go that far. We just touched and stuff.” He folds his arms on top of his knees and rests his chin on them. “And a few years ago I got curious and he let me suck him off.”

I’m beyond stunned. Virtually unresponsive. Data entry invalid, please insert and try again.

“He’s kinda pretty when he gets going, you know?” he asks and I’m not sure I do know, because suddenly I’m thinking of my scholarly nemesis in a way that was a joke up to an hour ago.

Goten meets my wide eyes again and smiles. “I think you’d like it, Trunks-kun. He’s different in bed. He’s…” A pink blush finally touches his cheeks. “Kinda hot and a little controlling.”

My face is on fire. I cock my head. “Goten…do you have any idea what you’re saying?”

My best friend nods happily and gives me a secret smile. “Yeah, I’m helping you raise your grade.”