Forward
by Penguin     More by this Writer
Set in Future Timeline. Trunks is falling for his mentor but Gohan's more focused on defeating the androids--but as Trunks gets older, and Gohan goes through some changes too, the tension becomes harder to resist.



Chapter 01
Gohan stumbled into the headquarters of Capsule Corp. Capsule Corp wasn’t much of a company anymore--most of the employees had fled long ago. Bulma and her son, Trunks, lived inside of it, allowing the building to act as both a home and a place for Bulma to do her research. Due to the destruction and mayhem caused by the androids, the building was a fraction of the size it was, and what was left was barred with heavy steel and thick walls.

You can never be too safe--those androids are just unpredictable, Bulma had said when the reinforcements were made. Gohan remembered that day well--it happened just days after the androids had attacked the city for a second time. He remembered her words well, because it so perfectly described the androids. Unpredictable.

He knew the code to get into the building. After punching in the numbers, a face scanner verified his identity--an additional security precaution that was added during the rebuild. He quickly hobbled in.

Once inside, he heard loud footsteps. He looked up and saw Bulma running down the hall, her boots clacking against the corridor tiles as she hurried. She immediately came to Gohan's side, helping him stay on his feet as she dragged him to the couch.

"You idiot. I saw what was happening on the news--they recorded the whole thing. Fighting two androids by yourself--what were you thinking? You're lucky you were so close to a friend's house--hell, you're lucky they weren't in the mood to kill you."

"I could've had them," Gohan insisted. Bulma shook her head incredulously, surprised the boy was even alive--much less arguing. She ran to grab her first aid kit.

While she was gone, Gohan had a moment to himself. He was in terrible pain. He was still bleeding in many places and the soreness in his body was too much for him to handle.

The androids were too strong for him--they were having one of their violent fits again and started to destroy South City. Everytime it happened, Gohan went to fight them--and he ended up in the same, beaten shape every time. Chichi tried to stop him many times but Gohan couldn't bring himself to let the meaningless bloodshed happen.

He was the only one that could put up a challenge to the androids--occasionally, he wondered if that was why they never killed him. His fists clenched. Maybe they were just toying with him.

When Bulma came back, she immediately started disinfecting his wounds. Bulma was a scientist, not a doctor, but she had so much practice tending wounds in the past few years that she had become a pro. Gohan sensed a low ki and turned, noticing a head popping around the corner. Bulma followed his gaze, and even though the head had disappeared, she knew.

"Trunks, go back to bed," Bulma scolded.

Knowing that he had been caught, Trunks didn't bother to hide anymore, and instead emerged from behind the doorway.

"Did you fight the androids?" Trunks asked Gohan. Bulma stood up, trying to shoo Trunks away, but Gohan stopped her.

"Its okay Bulma. He's just curious," Gohan insisted.

"I can't concentrate on your wounds with my son over my shoulder. Besides, its bedtime, and there's no excuse for being nosey," Bulma said, pushing Trunks in the direction of the stairs.

Trunks gave up and left--but not before giving Gohan one last glance.

"That boy," Bulma muttered to herself, returning to Gohan's side. She finished bandaging the wounds. "He never listens. He's reaching his rebellious years."

Gohan managed a smile.

By the time Bulma finished wrapping the wounds, Gohan's vision was beginning to blur. Bulma noticed Gohan's weary expression and laid him out on the couch.

"You stay here and don't move. When you're better, we'll move you to an actual bed. Let me see if I have any painkillers..." She got up and left, but Gohan had already passed out.



Gohan awoke in the middle of the night. Bulma had fallen asleep in a chair nearby--she must've been waiting for him to wake up. Gohan glanced over and saw a digital clock blinking 3:04am. His throat was terribly dry but he was determined to not wake her up--he had already burdened her enough.

He limped into the kitchen, minding how he moved so he wouldn't reopen any wounds. He winced with every step--everything was hurt, bruised, and cut up. It hurt to move.

His body was incredibly warm. Dark hair was plastered in sweat to his forehead. By the time he got to the sink, he thought he was going to black out again, and so he stilled himself and waited for his vision to become straight before moving to the cupboard.

Squeak. The rusty sink began to flush out water. He filled up the glass and gulped it down. It didn't seem like enough. Before he could grab another glassful though, his body began to shake, and his heartbeat accelerated. The blurriness came back and Gohan knew he was going to black out again.

But then someone came behind him, taking Gohan's arm and wrapping it around small shoulders for support.

"You okay?" Trunks asked, lowering Gohan to the floor. Gohan leaned his back against the counter, panting.

Trunks had known Gohan since he was born. Trunks didn't have a lot of friends, being home schooled due to the destruction of the schools in the area didn't give him the opportunity to socialize, but he was incredibly close with Gohan.

The last time Gohan had seen Trunks after fighting androids, it was the first time that Capsule Corp. was damaged. Afterwards, the boy asked to be trained by Gohan. Gohan was reluctant--the boy was still young, not to mention a friend, and he was worried about how Bulma would feel. But even before the boy had asked, it was decided amongst the Z-Fighters--before they were killed--that since Trunks was a demi-Saiyan that he should learn and prepare to fight the androids.

Even so, it had been awhile since the two had seen each other. They were trying to keep the training a secret from Trunks’ mother. If Bulma ever found out what the two were doing, Gohan was sure that would be the end of it. Gohan had spent his time in his home in the countryside, while Trunks stayed with his mother, and the two met when they could.

Gohan knew he would run into Trunks again, he just didn’t figure it would be like this. Neither did Trunks.

Trunks knew that Gohan had fought the Androids before, but he still wasn't expecting him to show up so bloodied up. It made his stomach churn to see the one that he admired most so physically damaged. It also filled him with more resentment towards the androids.

“What are you doing up so late?” Gohan interrogated. His voice was rough and he looked like he was having difficulties keeping his eyes open. The loss of blood from his battle was still having an effect on his energy. Even in this state, he still managed to scold like a proper teacher--Trunks had to admit he was impressed, but the scolding had little effect.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Trunks responded truthfully.

"Can you grab me another glass of water?" Gohan asked, handing over the cup. Trunks nodded and went to the sink. When he returned, Gohan's head was hung low.

"Gohan?" Trunks asked tentatively. Had he passed out again? But at the sound of his name, Gohan stirred, and Trunks had his answer.

He handed over the glass, and Gohan sipped slowly from it.

"We were worried about you," Trunks confessed. His gaze lowered. "We saw part of it on the news--before the TV stations had to shut down, of course."

Gohan didn't say anything, he just kept sipping from his glass.

"Is it scary? Fighting the androids, that is," Trunks asked.

"Yes... and no," Gohan said, coming to his senses. "I feel a ton of things when I fight them. Anger, for what they've done, above all. Fear of what they're capable of. And... excitement."

The last one confused Trunks. "Excitement? How?"

"I'm not sure. Its the adrenaline or something. My dad explained it once before. Its in our blood--our Saiyan blood--we’re naturally destructive. We crave fighting.” Gohan nodded, and as if he was convincing himself, he added, “Its true. When I fight the androids, a certain thrill takes over, even though I despise them so much.” The young man’s eyes seemed to lower. “If it wasn’t for that fighting spirit, I would probably never face them.”

Trunks wasn’t sure if he understood but he nodded anyways. He had sparred but had never been in a real fight, so he wasn’t sure if he could imagine what Gohan was feeling.

After Gohan had finished drinking his water, Trunks suggested that he move to the guestroom instead of returning to the couch. Trunks helped support Gohan the way there, noticing how hot his skin was. Maybe he had a fever.

Gohan collapsed on the bed. He seemed exhausted.

"Thank you Trunks. You're a good friend."

Trunks face turned pink--thankfully it was too dark to notice, though Gohan passed out anyways.



"Should you really be moving around already?" Bulma asked, worried.

"Yeah, I'm a little weak, but I should be fine enough to train. The androids are long gone so I don't have to worry about running into them again--at least, not now," Gohan explained.

Bulma seemed unsure--she wanted to argue, but Gohan looked determined, and Saiyan men were just so stubborn. Besides, his wounds had been patched up, and she didn't have a good excuse to keep him there. She just wished that he didn't have to go--the androids really screwed everything up. She often caught herself wondering what Gohan would be like if the androids weren't around--hell, what the world would be like.

She often hoped that their lives would improve--Gohan especially. As her late friend’s son, she wished him the best, and hoped that he would defeat the androids, get married and settle down--things that normal people his age would think about, instead of worrying about the fate of the world on his shoulders.

"Alright, just be careful--and call your mother when you get back, okay? Gosh, she must be worried sick..." Bulma chastised, shaking her head. Gohan smiled.

"Thank you Bulma. I'll stop by eventually. For now, though, I just need to focus on my training," Gohan said. He hung his head sheepishly when Bulma huffed in annoyance. "Oh and another thing--I was wondering if it was okay if I took Trunks with."

Bulma couldn’t help herself from stiffening. The boys tried to keep it a secret, but she wasn’t stupid. Trunks was beginning to outgrow his clothes--and it wasn’t just because of puberty, it was because of his developing muscles. Whenever the two hung out, her son returned home with grass-stained clothes, and the boy had more energy lately--more than usual.

Still, she didn’t say anything, because she was okay with it. She knew it was what the Z-Fighters--and Vegeta--would have wanted. But after seeing Gohan so beat up from the night before, she was scared. She didn't want to subject her son to that violence.

In the end, however, the androids had that control. The truth was that the world was declining, and the androids could kill at any second. Her son was in danger regardless. But if the Z-fighters believed that Trunks’ Saiyan blood had the ability to save the world, didn’t that count for something? If he learned to fight, maybe he could protect himself--and maybe he could even help defeat the androids.

"It should be fine. Let me ask him," Bulma said, keeping an expert poker face, before retreating back into the house. Gohan waited patiently outside.

Moments later, Bulma and Trunks reemerged. Bulma left Trunks with a small case of capsules--all filled with essential stuff for a trip away from home.

"Please be careful you two--there’s no telling what those androids will do next," Bulma pleaded. She then looked at Trunks with a stern expression. "Be nice and listen to Gohan, Trunks," she warned. Trunks resisted rolling his eyes.

"I get it, Mom."

Gohan smiled. His mother would say the same things.

"Such an attitude..." Bulma crossed her arms. "I guess apples don't fall far from the trees--do they, Gohan?"

Trunks looked up at Gohan, puzzled. Gohan laughed and told Bulma, "You tell me."

"Well, in your case, you definitely have the kind heart and strength--but I'd say you're a little wiser," Bulma said, winking.

Gohan sighed. She certainly had a way of making him miss his parents.

They bid their farewells, and Gohan led the way.



He was fast. Crazy fast.

There were many times where Trunks couldn't see him, much less keep up. He saw a flash in his peripherals, but at that point it was too late. Gohan landed a kick and Trunks was sent flying back, unable to even raise his arms up in time to block.

Trunks sat up in the grass, catching his breath, when Gohan's shadow loomed over him. Trunks looked up to see the handsome young man offering him a hand, and though Trunks' pride was a bit wounded, he accepted the hand and was lifted back on his feet.

"It's not fair, you know," Trunks accused, blowing his lavender bangs out of his eyes. Gohan cocked his head to the side, so Trunks elaborated: "You're so much stronger than me. It's not even a fair match."

Gohan laughed but noticed that Trunks was pouting and realized he was serious. With a bitter smile, the young warrior said, "I think the same thing when I'm fighting the androids. After awhile, however, you learn that not all battles are fair. Let's take a break, okay?"

"I can keep going," Trunks insisted. Gohan looked at the boy and thought he could use a break, but he found a certain fiery determination in those blue eyes that he just couldn't deny.

"Okay," he said, and the sparring commenced.

Later had passed, and Gohan noticed where the sun stood above the trees and knew they were getting into the late afternoon.

"Hey," Gohan said, blocking one of Trunks’ punches. "Its time for that break. It's getting late and I can tell you're getting worn out. Want some water?"

As if on command, the word "break" had Trunks falling to his knees, panting. He watched with mixed feelings as Gohan walked away. He almost couldn't believe how nonchalant Gohan was. Even though Gohan was still recovering from his wounds, the difference between the two was too great. After a full day of training, Trunks could barely stand, but Gohan moved around like it was nothing.

Gohan returned with a canteen. They sat side by side, with Trunks practically consuming the entirety of the canteen in a single drink. Gohan laughed warmly.

After he was done, Trunks asked:

"What does it feel like to go Super Saiyan?"

Gohan was a bit surprised by the sudden curiosity--it was also a question he had never considered. He thought carefully before answering, "Exhilarating. You almost feel invincible. But it's also terrifying. You have so much power at your disposal--it almost feels out of your control."

Trunks nodded, though he wasn't sure if he quite understood.

"Do you think I'll ever become a Super Saiyan?"

"Oh yeah," Gohan responded, as though it were obvious. "I have no doubt in my mind. You're not a Super Saiyan yet, but in many ways, you're a lot stronger than I was when I was your age."

Trunks wasn't so sure, but Gohan rarely lied, so he quietly accepted the compliment.

Gohan studied Trunks for a moment. He remembered when he was his age--at that point in time, the Z-fighters were dead, and Gohan had first untapped his Super Saiyan abilities.

“Trunks, how comfortable are you in your abilities?”

“Hmm? I'm not sure... that's a hard question to answer. Why do you ask?” Trunks asked, glancing at Gohan suspiciously.

“Maybe we should start teaching you to unlock your Super Saiyan ability. I think you can handle it, but its tricky--you’ll have to be really focused in order to unlock it.”

Trunks was both nervous and excited. He had always wanted to learn--but he wondered if he had the strength to do it. Gohan’s confidence in him, however, was encouraging.

"Yeah, we should do it."

"Alright," Gohan said, standing up. Trunks blinked.

"Uh, right now?" Trunks rubbed the back of his neck. "But we were just training."

"Its actually better if you're exhausted," Gohan said. He noticed Trunks' skeptical gaze. "I'm serious. The key to becoming a Super Saiyan is pure emotion. Physical exhaustion can help tap into those raw feelings."

Trunks wasn't convinced but he stood up anyways, ready to trust his mentor's instincts.

"Alright. Raise your ki as high as you can," Gohan said. It was easier said than done. Trunks had a hard time collecting his energy, especially since he was so tired. Whenever he got it high, Gohan urged him to do it more--pushing him at his limits.

It got to the point where Trunks felt his body shake and sting from the forceful energy coming out of him. On one hand, the sheer power coming out of him made him feel unstoppable. On the other hand, the exertion made him sweat. He could feel his pulse pounding and his muscles twitch and strain under the pressure of his own ki.

After finally seeing Trunks pass his limits and struggle to maintain ki, Gohan looked at Trunks and said, "Alright. Your ki is at its peak. Now, you need to create pure emotion. If you were to face the androids, what would you feel? Hatred? Anger? Injustice? Key in on those feelings and thoughts. Don't hold back--let them out. Let them free."

He did think about it. He thought about the father he never met. He thought about the lost days spent locked inside of Capsule Corp when the androids were spotted in the city. He thought about the long afternoons his mother spent behind a desk or in a warehouse, trying to invent a solution to their problems. He thought about Gohan, facing the androids on his own, and returning beat up and bloody. He thought about the innocent that were slaughtered by the hands of the androids.

He could feel it--the saiyan blood rushing through him, his body shaking with both physical strain and anger.

Gohan narrowed his eyes. Perhaps it was just his imagination--but he saw a flicker surrounding Trunks' image.

"That's it Trunks. Focus. Focus on those feelings and let them out. Remember the pain that the androids have caused you and let out the anger," Gohan pushed.

And then it came--a few flickers of gold. Gohan's eyes widened.

But before the boy could push it any further, the ki suddenly fizzled out--and with the loss of energy, Trunks fell to his knees and blacked out.



Trunks woke up, his vision blurry. When he opened his eyes, he found himself in a familiar place. It was Gohan's house. After Gohan started going up against the androids, his mother relocated to the Ox King's castle. Trunks didn’t know the details, and Gohan didn’t talk about it much, but from what he gathered, Chichi had a really hard time accepting that her son was determined to fight the androids. Gohan ended up keeping his parents' old place.

Trunks sat up, finding himself in a large bed. His memory returned to him, but he couldn't remember anything past his training to become Super Saiyan. He looked at the sunlight coming in through the window, the gentle spring breeze blowing through the curtains. There was bright daylight, in contrast to the setting sun that Trunks remembered. How long had he been asleep?

He was fatigued but well enough to walk. He got up and walked around the house. It was a small house but he called for Gohan's name anyways. His voice echoed in the small space but there was no response.

He had been in the Son house many times--he even had quite a few childhood memories of the place.

He particularly remembered visiting as a small kid. Vegeta and Goku had already passed, but a few of the Z-Fighters were still around. His memories of the Z-Fighters were a little fuzzy, but he remembered Gohan clearly. Even as children, Gohan seemed to tower over him, and Trunks would always reach up to grab Gohan’s hands. Even though Trunks found this tidbit embarrassing as he grew older--there was even a time his mother teased him for it--he remembered that Gohan never minded or scolded him. That’s how Trunks knew Gohan best--patient and kind.

Though, lately, Gohan seemed more tired and serious.

As he wandered aimlessly around the Son household, he came across an old photo sitting on a stand--in the photo was Gohan and his parents. Goku was still alive and Chichi was young and quite pretty. In Chichi's arms was a very young Gohan--no older than three or four. Trunks smiled at the picture. Little Gohan was adorable, and the family was happy and beautiful. Sitting on top of Gohan’s head was a hat with a ball on it.

Trunks had never seen a dragonball in-person, as Piccolo had died long ago fighting the androids, but he instantly recognized it due to his mother’s stories.

However, seeing the photo also painfully reminded him of his own family, and the fact that he didn't know his own dad. He only had one photo of him--and the prince was cast off into the distance. Aside from that one crummy photo, he had no memory or recollection of his father--he was killed by the androids when Trunks was still young.

Finding no one else in the house, Trunks decided to look outside. The greatest thing about the Son household was that it was so unlike the city. It was quiet and spacious. The androids also had no interest in rural areas like these, so the land was unscathed. Trunks loved the city but something about this place seemed so sacred and homey. The air seemed fresher, the skies seemed clearer.

Gohan was still nowhere to be found. Trunks decided to snoop around the house a little longer. Sure enough, Gohan had left a note telling Trunks that he was out training and would be back.

Trunks looked at the note and then the empty house. Gohan probably expected him to stay inside the house, but Trunks didn't feel too bad and he was lonely, so he left the house and tried to sense Gohan's ki.



Gohan panted with exertion, wiping the sweat from his brow. He looked up at the sky and noticed that the sun would be getting ready to set. Remembering Trunks, he knew that he would have to return soon.

Besides, he was still suffering from his injuries. Normally, he'd be out from sunrise to sunset, honing his skills and training to the point of being unable to continue. Being a Saiyan, his abilities never plateaued no matter how much he overworked himself, so he could train as long and hard as he wanted and his body would never stop getting stronger. However, his injuries left him in pain and exhaustion.

He took a moment to recollect himself, noticing his body was warm. He tried to ignore it for awhile now but there was no helping it. Gohan glanced down at his waist, finally minding his neglected erection. He looked at it more like it was a nuisance. It started happening when he was a teenager, and he foolishly thought he would eventually grow out of it.

His father had talked about it once--he said that a Saiyan's blood got excited during fighting and training. Gohan was too young at the time to understand the double meaning but it soon became apparent as he was older.

Gohan didn't really enjoy fighting--it was just something that he got stuck doing. However, when he went Super Saiyan, the blood rushed through him and he almost felt like a different person. The adrenaline, heat and excitement became thick. At times he felt like a complete animal which, perhaps, was suiting considering he could transform into a beast back when he still had his tail.

And, along with all that rushing blood and energy, came this. Gohan couldn't think of any time he saw his father get like this--then again, Goku always wore such loose clothing. Gohan wondered if it was because he was young or if he was just some sort of closeted sexual deviant, but it seemed to occur almost everyday.

It didn't help having Trunks around. Gohan had to be more careful with the extra company and had to be more discrete. Now that he was alone, in the middle of the woods, he felt unrestrained.

Gohan knew that it was time to go back, but decided that Trunks could wait a little longer. He found a nearby spot against the tree where he tugged at the sash around his waist.

He winced as the cool breeze hit his heated flesh. The back of his wrist dotted the sweat off his nose before reaching down, grasping at the erection. The touch was gentle but enough--he clenched his jaw to hold back a gasp as skin touched skin, feeling a delicious shiver go up his spine.

He was so hard that the simple touch was enough to leave him craving more. He began to stroke his cock, the feeling bringing an indescribable relief. He threw back his head and moaned softly, confident that no one would find him in these woods anyways.

Even so, he couldn't help but get disgusted with himself. He just couldn't control himself, he thought, as his face burned with heat. The sexual heat was so thick, and his erection was so hard that the strain began to hurt.

He really just wanted to feel good, and his hand felt really good. Lately the impulses were so strong, he could barely wait.

He stroked his cock faster, feeling a tingle run from his toes up to his body, and another moan escaped his lips.



Trunks wandered through the woods for awhile. He had long given up on calling Gohan's name--the woods was too large. He sighed heavily, almost convinced that he would never find his mentor. The young man's ki was difficult for him to detect.

Trunks eventually flew up into a tree, hoping that it would give him better surveillance of the area. In the end he didn't see Gohan--but he did sense a ki presence, albeit just for a moment--nothing more than a flicker. Trunks passed from tree to tree, following the ki source.

Trunks frowned as he moved in closer. Perhaps his sensing wasn't particularly adept--it seemed that Gohan's ki was way off. It seemed erratic, rising and lowering over and over again.

Finally Trunks arrived in the neck of the woods, lowering his ki so he could focus on Gohan better. As he moved in closer, he was alarmed by a sudden moan.

Trunks slowed down, catching a glimpse of his teacher from his spot in a thick tree crown. At first he wasn’t sure what he was seeing, but as he leaned forward, he immediately recognized what was happening.

The lavender-haired boy nearly fell out of the tree in surprise. Once the shock had settled in, a deep blush crossed his features, and he felt his heartbeat raise and his skin burn inside and out. Whatever emotions he felt, he could not take his eyes away from the sight--his vision zooming in on Gohan pleasuring himself.

The handsome demi-Saiyan had been dripping in sweat from his training. The low collar of his gi revealed the skin on his neck and chest, glistening in the sun. The man’s face was contorted into one of pleasure, both intense but still charming and attractive. The soft groans and small gasps caused Trunks to shiver--the sounds were almost sinful. Trunks’ blush only darkened further as he realized how beautiful Gohan was--and his own member began to harden at the sight.

Gohan didn’t notice Trunks--the boy was hiding his ki, and Gohan was too focused on his pleasure anyways, so he continued to focus on pumping his erection. The friction was delectable, and Gohan began to shiver as the pleasure began to climb.

He knew he was getting close. His body was burning and shaking, the heat in his lower body began to pool and his body clenched and unclenched. Gohan grabbed the hem of his shirt, keeping it in his mouth--revealing his hard, muscular stomach--so he would not risk staining his clothes as he approached his climax.

Gohan groaned around the fabric in his clenched teeth, his head tilting back and his eyes closing as he climaxed. His hand moved quicker as his hips bucked, riding out his orgasm as he came onto his stomach.

The demi-Saiyan savored the feeling of his orgasm, the rush of pleasure passing over him, until his body finally settled the young man was left panting and breathing. Once he had relaxed, he began to clean himself off.

Meanwhile, Trunks was already returning back to the Son household, his face still burning at what he had just witnessed.



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