Mirai No Koibito
by Queen Yokozuna     More by this Writer
Mirai Gohan and Mirai Trunks realize their feelings right before Gohan has to knock Trunks out and go fight what he believes will be his final fight with the androids. An unexpected chance arrives though in a familiar if unbelievable appearance.

Author’s Notes: 13 year-old Trunks, One armed Gohan, Alternate older Mirai Trunks.
Graphic Violence

At the soft, nearly inaudible utterance of his name, Son Gohan at last manages to blink, before he realizes that he has, for the past full minute or so now, been holding his gaze intently and exclusively on his young friend sitting down there on the ground beside him.

“What is it, Torankusu?” Gohan barely spurts out, abruptly wrenching his ebony eyes away from Trunks as he catches the faint scarlet blush spreading on those fair, youthful cheeks. Somehow, Gohan gets an eerie feeling his own cheeks are turning bright red themselves this very moment.

“Um…” Trunks lets out a soft, slightly nervous laugh, refusing to lift his popsicle-blue eyes from the ground. “Is, um… why d’you look at me like that?”

A beguiled smile curls itself around Gohan’s lips as Trunks promptly turns to his right to try to hide the still-spreading crimson proof of embarrassment on his face. The older half-saiyajin crosses his lean, long legs, absently turns towards the city that can be seen from that bluff they’re on, and amiably replies, “Gomen, I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable or anything. I was just thinking ’bout how, how much you’ve improved, when we sparred earlier, and, ’bout that time machine you told me Buruma-san’s working on. Fascinating, uh-huh.”

“… Oh.” Trunks slowly looks at his friend again, and then gives him a heartfelt smile of, what appears to be, relief. “Yeah, ‘wonder how it’d be to travel back in time too, when everyone was still around?”

Gohan nods and gives him a heartfelt smile of his own, but then quickly slides his eyes down to his legs, as if he were suddenly ashamed of the half-truth in his words, and, more significantly, of the mighty, intense urge he’s got right now to cup that young face with his strong, rough hand, and claim those young, pink lips with his strong, rough kiss.

Because the truth is, he wasn’t entirely ruminating on Trunks’ fighting skills, or the time machine, that whole while he’s been staring at him. He was also partly, no, /major/ly, drinking in the pristine beauty of his young friend, and admitting to himself finally that he /wanted/ him, that he has, for some time now, been wanting him.

He can’t tell precisely when and how he began to feel it, actually, when and how he began seeing Trunks as more than just like a little brother to him.

And still perhaps more than this, Gohan can’t tell precisely… /why/… he’s fallen completely for his young friend.

Is it merely a reflex thing, an instinctual reaction to all that idolatrous affection Trunks has been showing him? Or is it just because he’s lonely, and in desperate need of some intimacy, so much so that he doesn’t care that Trunks is still too young for it?

Ah, but whatever the reason, Gohan doesn’t think he still ought to know. Because all that’s pure and lucid in his mind right now, is that he simply wants Trunks… to be/his/.

A deep, piercing sensation of chagrin spikes through him at that thought.

While Juunanagou and Juuhachigou must be wreaking even greater havoc right now somewhere in the city and mercilessly taking the lives of yet another slew of innocent people, here he is, engrossed in his all-too-consuming juvenile and frivolous thoughts of taking his lovely young protégé for a lover, instead of out there fighting those two Androids and protecting the helpless populace.

“Baka,” Gohan softly mutters to himself, clenching his right and only fist in an effort to curb his emotions.

“Huh?” Trunks turns an inquiring gaze up to his mentor. “Did ya say something?”

“Ie,” Gohan lies, trying to assure him with a shaky laugh. “It was nothing.”

A strong, cold breeze just then wheezes through the still air around them, and Gohan finds his lips slightly, involuntarily, parting in quiet worship as he looks at Trunks shut his eyes and toss his head back a tad, letting the soft strands of his lush lavender hair sway with that burst of icy wind, and looking just plain damn beautiful as he does so.

“It’s gonna rain, ne?” the kid then turns his eyes to the heavens, leaning back against his arms and sprawling his slim legs before him.

The young Son just all of a sudden feels the beating of his heart get significantly faster, but he hardly concerns himself with it as he nods, “Hai. Seems like it.” He tilts his gaze up to that vast afternoon sky, and his eyes turn considerably glum as he gets a load of that thick, angry mass of gray clouds rolling and hovering over them.

The glum in his eyes then turns even harsher, and anger just casts its shadow over his face altogether as another strong, cold breeze sweeps over them, this time carrying with it the resonant, agonizing cries of pain from the distant city below.

With narrowing and blazing eyes now, “Kuso,” Gohan grinds his teeth.

Trunks then suddenly draws his legs together to his chest, and buries his head in his arms, keeping his ears from catching any more of the woeful sounds flying past them.

“It’ll pass in a minute,” Gohan soothes the younger half-saiyajin, draping his only arm around those slender shoulders to pull Trunks closer to him.

In response, Trunks turns to his left and buries his head in his mentor’s chest, as if it was solely from that orange gi top that he could seek some refuge.

For a few more seconds the two young men just wordlessly, motionlessly, sit there holding each other, until the breeze finally dies down and brings quiescence to that cliff once again.

And it is only at this point that Gohan finds himself hugging that smaller body ever so fiercely to himself, like he’s never done to anybody else before.

“I’m so sick of it, Gohan-san,” Trunks just then shatters the silence, his teenage voice suddenly sounding old and worn with bitterness, “I’m so sick of all these people dying. I swear I’m gonna make myself real strong and help you get rid of those two bastards.” The kid then gently breaks away from Gohan’s hug to look up at him squarely in the eyes, to show the gritty determination spelled out in his. “I swear I’m gonna put an end to all o’this /now/.”

“Hm, that’s very noble of you,” remarks Gohan, staring straight back into Trunks’ eyes, letting him see in return his burning admiration of his bravery.

A smile etches itself on Trunks’ lips. “Arigatou,” he manages to sound glad, despite that slight and ever-familiar trace of sadness in his winsome smile.

“Well, in a couple more years, I know, you can beat the crap out of ’em hands-down. But for now… I don’t think so.”

“Nani?” Trunks’ brows instantly come together to a tight crease. “But you just said I’ve gotten stronger and all, didn’t ya?”

“Hai, you have,” Gohan smiles, “but you’re still not strong enough. I mean you can’t even turn Super Saiyajin yet. Fact is, you’re still no match for either of those two. So, you just let me handle ’em for now, ‘kay?”

“Ie!” Trunks insists, shaking his head with passion as he now sits up to fully face the older man. “I’m not letting you deal with ’em by yourself, I’m gonna fight right by your side, ‘specially now after what they did to ya!”

“Why, think I’m not strong enough ‘nymore to beat ’em?”

“That’s not it! ‘Course I know you can still beat ’em, but, but it’s always two against one ‘n it’s not fair!”

“Ah,” Gohan briefly shakes his head, placing his hand over the short blue sleeve covering the stump of his left shoulder. “You should already know by now that life could /never/ be fair.”

“But, but…” stutters Trunks, taking a hold there of Gohan’s wrist, “but Gohan-san… what if they, what if… they, kill you too?”

Something inexplicably sharp and heavy just all of a sudden grips Gohan’s heart as Trunks holds his wrist close to his own heart, takes a firmer grasp of it as if unwilling to let go, and then pins those earnest azure irises on him.

“They aren’t taking you away from me, Gohan-san. Please lemme help you.”

A great thunder claps in the distance, before Gohan tells his earnest protégé to his face that, “I can’t.”

“Why not??”

Slowly, then, with Trunks still vehemently taking a strong grasp of his wrist, Gohan lifts his hand from that young chest, and then cups that young face before him.

Looking straight deep into those now-half-startled eyes, Gohan declares, “I can’t let ’em kill you too, ’cause I don’t wanna lose /you/ more than anything else. I’m not just fighting ’em now to get revenge for Piccolo-san and the others, I’m also fighting for /you/. If I let ’em kill you, then I might as well let ’em kill me too.”

The slim fingers curled around that wrist gradually loosen as Trunks now appears to struggle quietly with himself, trying to comprehend every meaningful bit of Gohan’s words.

“You get that, don’t you, Torankusu?”

“I, uh… I don’t think I get… it, ex/act/ly…”

“Ah.” Cupping Trunks’ face more firmly, Gohan uncrosses his legs and then sidles up to him, closing tight the space between them. “Maybe this’ll help you understand, what I exactly mean.”

Gohan flashes a warm smile, charmed by the bemused look on Trunks’ face, and then casting away any doubt of hesitation and doubt now in his mind, presses his warm, soft lips against the kid’s own.

He can keenly feel Trunks slightly tense up, which he’d already anticipated, knowing that the kid has never before been touched, much less kissed, like that, in all his barely thirteen years.

In an effort to ease his agitation, Gohan takes the kiss slowly, letting his lips gently, tenderly caress Trunks’ own, and in just a few moments it’s Gohan’s turn to get half-startled as those virginal, inexperienced lips then just as gently, and just as tenderly, caress his lips in return.

Trunks takes his hands off of Gohan’s wrist to himself cup the older half-saiyajin’s face, and now sensing not one bit of tension or uneasiness in the kid, Gohan lets his hand slide behind Trunks’ head, and then rakes his fingers through those silky purple locks.

Soft, breathless moans weave their way out of the couple’s lips as Gohan tilts Trunks’ head up and takes the kiss deeper, slipping his pliant tongue between those moistened lips, and together their tongues swirl and tangle in a slow, wet caress as they relish in the lingering sweetness of each other’s mouth.

“Gohan-san,” Trunks whimpers in between kisses, and Gohan seizes this opportunity to let his tongue probe even deeper into the hot depths of his pupil’s mouth.

Trunks’ own fingers make their way through Gohan’s hair, entangling themselves with those soft, cropped jet-black strands, even clutching fistfuls of them every now and then.

Sensing his long-kept desire for the boy turning even more intense and uncontrollable by the second, Gohan then coils his sinewy arm around that slim torso and lifts Trunks to make him straddle right on top of his spread-out thighs.

The moment, though, that Trunks’ arousal comes into contact with his own throbbing erection, Gohan, without warning, just breaks their kiss up, and then lifts Trunks off of him as if the feel of that sensuous young body just suddenly, urgently, repelled him.

“Gohan-san?” Trunks quickly blurts out, turning a confused face to him.

“Gomen ne,” Gohan just as quickly tells him, placing his hand over his still-bulging crotch as if desperately trying to conceal it from the whole world.

“Sorry for what?” Trunks demands, trying to make Gohan look at him again.

“Well, uh…” Gohan raises his eyes, now staring back more determinedly at Trunks. “I wasn’t, thinking straight back there. I almost forgot that, you might not be ready for… for, /this/, yet.”

“Kuso!”

“Nani?” sputters Gohan, clearly surprised at that unusual outburst from Trunks.

“Why d’you keep saying I’m not ready yet?” Trunks scowls, leaning over to Gohan as he speaks. “First you tell me I’m not ready yet to fight those jinzouningen, and now you tell me I’m still not ready to, to sleep with you too?!”

“Torankusu!” Gohan spits out, seemingly unwilling to believe those words had just come out of the youth’s mouth.

“I’m not a little kid anymore Gohan-san and I know you know it, ‘cos you don’t treat me like one, so don’t act like I’d burst into tears and call for my okasan or sumthin’. I can be your bitch now if that’s what you want!”

“Stop that!” this time Gohan pronounces with more firmness. “I don’t want you to be my /bitch/, where in the heck did you get that idea –” Gohan cuts his own words short, as he just then remembers that dark, painful scene several days back involving himself, Trunks, and Juunanagou…

He was battling the Androids then, at the last amusement park running, and with Trunks fighting with him for the first time. It was an encounter no different from his countless other ones with those same foes, but what Gohan distinctly remembers about it is that it was during that fight that he lost his left arm, and that Juunanagou had tried to rape Trunks right before his enraged eyes.

“Oi he sure is pretty, what, this kid your /bitch/, huh?” Juunanagou had sneered at Gohan then, as he pinned the semi-conscious Trunks down to the ground and started to rip his pants off. “Heh, now he’s gonna be /my/ bitch too!”

Had the battered Gohan not mustered up enough strength then to throw Juunanagou off of Trunks with his powerful blast, the heartless Android would’ve most certainly taken the boy right there and then.

Since then, Gohan had sworn to himself never to let Trunks get near Juunanagou again, and he swears now that he will have to die first before he /ever/ lets the Android touch his beloved again. Before anyone, for that matter, ever makes Trunks feel like he was only someone’s /bitch/ again…

“Baka, Torankusu,” Gohan tenderly grins, pulling Trunks closer to him again, “you know I don’t think of you like that.”

Snuggling himself in the warm embrace of Gohan’s lone arm, Trunks gently rubs his cheek against the older man’s neck and discloses, “But I meant what I said, Gohan-san. I’m ready for whatever you want with me.”

“Well…” Gohan trails off, a faint smirk shaping his lips.

“Try me,” Trunks dares, flashing Gohan his own smirk.

And then as if to further drive his point home, the persistent adolescent kneels right before the seated Gohan, takes his hand, and then places the hot palm right over the bulge between his legs.

Gohan gets slightly taken aback by Trunks’ boldness, but makes no move to protest at any rate and just lets him press his hand against that eager arousal.

Deciding now to go with the flow, Gohan rubs his hand up and down Trunks’ sensitive mound, sending myriad tiny shivers to the boy’s body and drawing long moans out of him. And then, seemingly weakened by Gohan’s caress, Trunks just slumps himself there against the young Son, moaning out his name, or at least what seems to sound like it.

“Oi, we’re just getting started,” Gohan chuckles, shrugging Trunks off of him.

But Trunks can only seem to let out another moan in reply.

“So I guess I’m right. Seems like you’re not ready yet.”

“I /am/,” Trunks promptly huffs by Gohan’s ear, his hips involuntarily twitching by Gohan’s crotch.

Before Gohan can choose between listening to that tiny, conscientious voice inside his head telling him he shouldn’t take advantage of that boy eight years his junior, /and/ laying Trunks down on the ground before him so he can more fully caress each and every part of him, a loud explosion just suddenly jolts him out of his debating thoughts.
“What was that?” Trunks promptly sits up, turning to the city.

A big cloud of smoke amongst those fallen buildings greets Gohan’s vision as he himself turns to the city, and just as he starts to gnash his teeth in fury, another explosion goes off, this time somewhere nearer them.

“The bastards.” Promptly Gohan gets up, and Trunks just as promptly jumps to his feet, too.

“They’re attacking the capitol!” cries Trunks, clenching his small fists.

“Torankusu,” Gohan then gently calls him, placing his hand atop his young lover’s back.

“Hai, Gohan-san?”

“Stay here,” Gohan firmly tells him.

“But –”

“I’ll come back for you, don’t worry.”

“Ie!” Trunks shouts in near tears. “I can’t let you fight ’em alone!”

For the second time today, Trunks takes a firm hold of Gohan’s wrist, simply unwilling to let go of him.

Gohan’s brows knit together at Trunks’ stubbornness, but then gradually ease off in a few moments as he tenderly looks Trunks in the face and nods, “Okay, let’s do it.”

“Hai!” Enthusiasm automatically ignites Trunks’ eyes as he turns around to prepare to fly off to the city. “Ready when you are, Go –”

Trunks isn’t able to say anything more, and much less fly off, as Gohan just then knocks him out cold with a swift blow to the back of his head. Gohan catches the collapsing Trunks in his arm, and then gives him one long kiss on the mouth, before laying him back down carefully onto the ground.

“Gomen ne, my little koi, but you’re our last hope now. I can’t let you die just yet.”

The older half-saiyajin lets his fingers caress that smooth cheek one last time, before he finally, painfully, leaves his young beloved, and flies off to the city below, to fight his last fight for him.

***

It must be the guilt of having knocked his young lover unconscious, or the sharp, foreboding sentiment that he might never see him again that’s gripping his chest with such immense heaviness and pain, but Gohan refuses to dwell on either one at any rate, and just focuses on getting to the capitol. It’s tough enough as it is as he tries to blink away the scant tears blurring his eyes.

With the big gray mushroom of smoke from the last explosion now apparently just a mile or two away, Gohan is just about to speed up his flight ahead and venture lower into the city, when he senses a strong burst of ki somewhere behind him that, for some odd reason, grips his heart with even more immense heaviness and pain. An ardent and familiar cry then makes itself heard, practically freezing him altogether right there in that gelid air.

“Gohan-san!”

“Nanda to –?!” Gohan promptly glances over his shoulder, anticipating to see the only person who calls him by that name, the one he was certain he’d left sleeping in the safety of that distant cliff.

He starts to chide himself for this, but then finds himself gaping instead as he realizes it’s not really his little koi there flying with alarming haste over to him, but… a beautiful young man around his age, in a black attire of tank shirt and pants topped by an open blue jacket, with long, silvery lavender hair tied in a loose ponytail, and a pair of striking blue eyes that look distinctively, exactly, like… his little koi’s.

“Who are you? And how d’you know me?” Gohan at once demands, turning to face the young man who’s stopped at a meter or so before him.

From that close a range it’s harder to deny the stranger looks significantly much like his young lover, too, and for a still moment Gohan finds himself wondering if Trunks’ got an older brother no one’s ever bothered telling him about. The thought intrigues him too much that he fails to consider how unlikely such a thing could be, or perceive that intense play of emotion on the stranger’s face, or even notice the now-too abnormally rapid beating of his heart.

“Gohan-san,” the stranger earnestly begins, but then purses his lips as he appears to struggle finding the words to say next to him.

There’s something about the way he speaks, the way his name slithers off of his tongue that Gohan can’t quite place, something unmistakably intimate that seems to make every part of him quiver. However, he thinks no more of it altogether as his eyes just then stray to those shiny pink lips parted in expectancy, and finds himself taking an unconscious lick of his own lips, as if the sweetness still lingering on them, the sweetness of the kiss he’d shared with Trunks a few minutes ago, had something to do with that young stranger.

And that ki. There really /is/ something about that young man’s ki that’s just all too familiar, and yet all too unknown to him at the same time. It’s strange, Gohan knows, but his ki’s, almost… like Trunks’, too.

“You, you remind me so much of, of my, friend,” Gohan, his brows knotting in apparent bewilderment, can’t help sputtering out.

“The boy you left back there on that bluff?”

“Nani?!” Ebony eyes turn wide in utter surprise. “How did you know — What did you –”

“He’s fine, still sleeping all right, you’ve got nothing to worry about. I just saw him on my way here.”

A cordial, reassuring smile dances its way to the young man’s lips, but Gohan scarcely catches it, since at this moment all he can pay even half his attention to is the now-deep and furious pounding in his chest.

“Gohan-san, um,” the lovely stranger then shatters the momentary silence, drawing the older man’s attention to him again, “d’you think we could talk for a minute? Down there?” and then points at that small area of blasted concrete right below them.

“/Who are you/?” Gohan demands from him once more, confusion and all sorts of it just glazing every curve and line of his face.

“I’ll tell you.” And with that, he goes down to land on the concrete, seemingly confident that Gohan will follow him.

There’s a lot more at stake in getting to the capitol at this point, but it seems like Gohan’s already forgotten he’s supposed to be on his way there in the first place, for he decides to follow the beautiful stranger and find out, for starters, why he suddenly feels this mysterious and compelling sense of connection, of /affinity/, with him. Like they’ve already met somewhere before.

Now standing there face-to-face and with an arm’s length distance between each other, the younger of the two men takes a deep breath, before he at last discloses, “Gohan-san, it’s me. Torankusu.”

Gohan’s lips begin to part, most likely to mouth out a word or two of complete astonishment, or incredulity, or even perhaps indignation, but not a whit of word-like sound manages to slip out of them. Before he can fully react at any rate, the stranger who claims he’s /Trunks/, or at least calls himself by that name, readily spares him the trouble and begins to expound,

“I’m Torankusu, Gohan-san, I’m the same Torankusu you know, the only thing is, I’m from the future. I’m actually the same person, just a little older than the one you know. I’m /him/ six years from now.”

“Hold on a sec,” Gohan’s features crinkle in incomprehension. “If you’re… What d’you mean you’re from /the future/?”

“Remember that time machine I told you my ‘kasan was working on?”

Gohan slowly nods, although he’s not quite sure why.

“Well, uh, how should I explain this…”

Another deep breath.

“Okay, I’m gonna tell you /every/thing you need to know, Gohan-san, so listen carefully. Okay?”

“I’ll try to,” the half-saiyajin at first barely spits out, but then adds a more resolved and assuring “I will” the next second, if only because of the profound sincerity and trust he can now discern in those ever-familiar blue eyes.

***

Drawing his hands out of his pants’ pockets, Trunks sat himself down out by the back wall of Kame House. He shortly flicked away some loose side strands of his ponytail from his face, before he leaned back against the wood, pulled his knees up together to his chest, and shut his thoughtful blue eyes from that scope of equally-blue sea across him.

In the background, he could hear his mother prattling on to his father, both of whom were inside the little pink dwelling with Kamesennin, Kuririn, and the rest of the gang, including his chibi alter ego. Uh-huh, that cute and remarkably /strong/ little baby, who nearly pulled out a chunk of his shoulder-length hair a short while back.

The gentle sound of waves breaking just then drew Trunks away from his mother’s voice, and he opened his eyes in time to catch that last breaker foaming onto the shore down across. He perched his chin on his arms there placed atop his knees, letting a prolonged sigh glide out of his lips.

Although his gaze appeared locked onto the fascinating sparkle of blue right before him, the reflection in his eyes just seemed to tell he was nothing even close to glancing at the water, or at anything around him for that matter. And from that slight frown now veiling his lovely features, it just seemed like he would rather feast his eyes on something far-off else.

If anything, it just didn’t seem /apt/ at the moment, considering that there was a healthy number of reasons that should at the very least be keeping him from sulking right now. Reasons, such as the fact that he was in the company of /both/ his parents, something he’d always wished were possible, and which the time machine Buruma had built has now finally realized for him.

But as it was, the time-traveling half-saiyajin could scarcely even feign a tiny smile.

All he could do, as a matter of fact, was brood out there in the sun, brood over the one person he hasn’t once stopped thinking about, the one person he was just dying to be with right this very moment.

Ah. He still really was missing Gohan, /his Gohan-san/, too much.

Just missing him even more than ever now.

It’s been six desolate years now since he’d last been with Gohan. Since he’d had his cherished first kiss with him, since the older man had knocked him unconscious to go fight the Androids alone, since his Gohan-san had died fighting to protect the world, fighting to protect /him/.

The young man could still recall every vivid detail of that fateful, rainy day, when he’d found his Gohan-san amongst the city rubble, lying all bruised and lifeless in a puddle of dark crimson.

It just pained him to ponder it over and over again, to keep on dwelling on the cruel fact that it had to take his beloved to die for Trunks to realize the full extent of his powers, and be able to achieve his Super Saiyajin form at long last. It was enough to make him want to… die now, himself.

Just when Gohan had finally begun to reciprocate the love he’d been harboring for him, his young mentor had to leave him hopelessly yearning for more of it, had to leave him feeling all empty and alone in that bleak and harsh future.

And now, instead of setting his mind on the more paramount concerns in his preparation for the upcoming Tenkaichi Budoukai, there he sat playing again and again that last brief, intimate moment he’d shared with Gohan, and fervently wishing he could experience more of it still.

As much as Trunks knew how gravely the fate of the world rested on the Cell Game, he just really couldn’t wait to get it over with, so he could already get back to his own timeline to kill Juunanagou and Juuhachigou, and finally avenge Gohan’s death. There was no doubt in his mind now, after all, that he could very well do it. After undergoing a year of rigid training with his father in The Room of Spirit and Time, and then achieving the Ultra Super Saiyajin form when he fought Cell earlier, he’s become more confident than ever that he could already finish off those two Androids who’ve caused him so much pain.

However, as he continued to sit there holding an absent gaze on the crystal blue sea, even that appeasing, comforting thought just couldn’t seem to draw a contented sigh out of him.

Because the one true thing he just really wanted to do right now, was be with his Gohan-san again.

There was no point in keeping on longing for that, Trunks would readily admit, but then again, he just knew that he’d only remain distracted and restless over the critical days to come, /unless/ he did something about it and /right away/.

As if time was suddenly running out, Trunks now promptly got up from the grass, reaching for his time machine capsule in his jacket’s pocket. He stared long and hard at the small white capsule in his hand, before resolving to do what he’d been carefully contemplating on since Buruma had that machine completed for him.

Clutching the capsule tightly, Trunks figured that perhaps /now/ was the time he finally rid himself of his fears and doubts, and just get on with his plan.

It should be simple enough, anyhow, especially if he could find a way to ignore that tiny, nagging voice somewhere in his consciousness right now, admonishing him how selfish he was that he could only preoccupy himself with thoughts of romance at this crucial time, and even consider using the time machine for his own personal end –yes, that very same time machine created for far more noble and selfless purposes to begin with, purposes such as saving the world.

Ah, but despite that disturbing sense of guilt, and, more critically, the myriad possible timeline-altering consequences he was sure his action would bring, it didn’t seem like there was still anything that could keep Trunks from pursuing his lost love.

“Hai, I’ll do it,” the resolute young man nodded.

He might just have to worry later about what he’d tell everyone once he got back, /if/ he would ever get back, but for now, all he could concern himself with was getting into that time machine, and getting to his sole true love.

“Gomen ne, minna,” he glanced back one last time at the little pink house, before finally flying off.
***

Myriad, varying emotions cast themselves out one after another on Gohan’s face, and at several points the whole while he’s listening to that lengthy account, throughout all that talk of the /past/ and of the /future/, of the entire gamut of events his young companion tells him he’s gone through, it even seems like nothing just quite manages to sink into his muddled head.

Although he can’t dismiss the fact that Buruma’s an amazing inventor alright, he just can’t get past the idea, somehow, that there really could be two /selves/ of his koibito coexisting right now. Even if it /does/ feel too much like it’s Trunks himself right there speaking to him.

“So,” Gohan now breaks his long silence, his tone perhaps just laced with a hint of skepticism, “if, by this time, you’re supposed to fight in the Tenkaichi Budoukai with my otousan and the others, why did you travel in time /here/?”

The younger man appears to think something over, and then in a short while, replies, “I just wanted to, to, see you again first. I just had to do it, ’cause there’s no way to tell what can happen in that tournament. I figured I might never get this chance again.”

“Why didn’t you just travel to see me back in your own timeline, or something?”

“W’ll, see, in my timeline… you’re already, dead.”

“Dead?!” Gohan spits out, his heart racing anew.

A slow nod. “You died just after you left me on that bluff, when you fought the jinzouningen.”

“So, so you’re saying that, if I got to the capitol just now, I would’ve died for sure?” the older man begs for more clarity.

The stranger gives him a slow nod once again, casting his now-somber eyes down to the ground. “You… It was already too late when I got here…”

His voice just then cracks at those last words, snapping Gohan right out of his anxious thoughts, for he’s pretty sure he just caught a trace of his little koi’s voice in that young man’s. He gazes long and hard at him, at that captivating youth now returning his gaze with earnest, hope-filled eyes. And in a few more moments, Gohan just finally realizes, that he really has no reason to doubt every heartfelt word he’s heard out of him, no reason to question the scale of grief he’d had to deal with until now, just absolutely no reason not to believe that he really /is/ the same Trunks he knows, the same Trunks he /loves/.

It doesn’t seem to make any real sense, but Gohan just finds it /right/ to believe that that young man before him really is his Trunks, and it’s not just because he suddenly feels the overpowering urge to hold him close to himself right now, and ease that look of thorough desolation and longing all over his lovely face.

“Torankusu,” Gohan softly calls him, his thoughtful coal-black eyes now betraying a sense of appreciation, and purpose. “You /are/ Torankusu. Right?”

“Hai,” Trunks eagerly nods, a relieved smile shaping his lips.

The older half-saiyajin smiles back, feeling his chest get significantly lighter as he sees the uncanny joy spreading on that fair face.

“Gohan-san,” Trunks’ tone now rings with enthusiasm, “there’s one more thing you need to know. ”

Before curiosity can even start to register on Gohan’s face, Trunks then fully straightens up his stance, and in one simultaneous instant reveals one more proof of his identity, by transforming into a glowing, omnipotent being with golden sunshine hair and luminous aquamarine eyes.

Gohan’s jaw nearly kisses the dirt on the ground. “You can… You’re a Super Saiyajin…” he can only seem to gasp aloud, but only for a moment, as a proud grin then begins to outline his lips. Ah, his koi /has/ reached the desired end of all their hard work and training, after all.

The lustrous Trunks simply smiles once again, before turning himself back to his normal form.

For a hushed minute and more Gohan just stands there gazing, staring, ogling at Trunks, just letting his ardent ebony eyes roam and wander off to every bit and piece of the younger man, and after several hushed more moments he finally finds it in himself to sigh,

“You’re even more beautiful now.”

A bright shade of scarlet at once stains across Trunks’ cheeks, and some whispered, indistinct syllables just barely leave his smiling lips.

It’s turning nearly impossible for Gohan at this point to control the urge overwhelming every hold of his consciousness right now, but before he can even take a firm step forward and pull his koibito’s body close to his own, the dark gray sky just then starts to pelt the earth with raindrops.

“Let’s go look for shelter,” he instead urges Trunks, promptly extending his inviting hand to him.

Showing no hint of hesitation whatsoever, Trunks just as promptly takes that warm, friendly hand, and lets Gohan lead him to the nearest shelter.

***

The rain just all out pours like mad the moment the lovers reach that abandoned mess of a building nearby. Once inside, they take their cover by the door-less front portal, and as they lightly brush off the cool drops of water on their hair, they turn their eyes up to the raging, black sky.

“Finally, it rained,” Gohan half-sighs, leaning himself back against one side of the portal’s steel frame.

Trunks himself leans back against the opposite side, facing his former mentor who’s just a few, reachable feet away. He gazes affectionately at the tender, tragic beauty of that battle-scarred face and that strong, sinewy form missing the left arm, and then just feels the overpowering urge to throw himself to his lover right this instant, and give him the fiercest hug imaginable.

/Kami-sama/, but this is, at long last, not just a dream anymore.

His heart can’t help swelling with immense glee, too, as he sees that all that’s thankfully apparent on the older man’s face is a clear and unmistakable look that beams with an ever-familiar sense of understanding, warmth, and trust.

Not for one second, alright, did he doubt his Gohan-san would believe him. Just as the young Gohan had right away trusted him that first time he’d traveled back in time to give Goku his medicine, the Gohan right here he’s grown up with has right away trusted him enough to accept /all/ he’s heard from him. Not for one measly second did Trunks doubt, alright, that the Gohan he’s completely fallen in love with, truly had the purest heart he’s ever had the privilege of knowing.

For the next few awkward seconds the two young men just stand there facing one another, looking at each other with quiet but profound desire burning in their eyes and consuming every bit of their body, but then making not even a semblance of an attempt to quench it.

Realizing that Gohan may still be a little tentative with him, Trunks finally makes up his mind, to make the first move.

Before he loses his nerve altogether, he now steps to the taller man so that their faces are only a few inches apart and they’re practically breathing right into each other’s parted lips. He starts to lift his hands to cup his lover’s face, but stops halfway through as Gohan just seems to move a tad quicker than he. The older half-saiyajin raises his only hand to touch the soft, silky purple tresses by Trunks’ ear, then runs his caressing fingers along the strands, before he slides his hand behind Trunks’ head, just below his ponytail, to pull him closer for a kiss.

“Gohan-san,” Trunks lets out a desirous moan, before letting his parted lips seal tight with Gohan’s own. He slides his arms up to wrap around those broad shoulders, and as he finds himself nearly weeping from the velvety, heavenly touch of his lover’s lips against his own, those same sweet lips he’d been yearning to savor again these last six years, he feels the clasp of that lone arm turn ever so tighter around him.

For a sultry minute their tongues wallow in the sensual heat of each other’s mouth, until the two men have to break up their kiss for air. But just as they part lips to catch their breath for the meantime, Trunks presses Gohan harder against himself and engages him in another, but now longer and more passionate, kiss.

The younger half-saiyajin feels his heart beat ridiculously fast against Gohan’s chest, but isn’t able to think much of it as he just then senses his knees gradually melting from the heat of their kiss, just buckling from the blissful, glorious sensation of Gohan’s unabashed arousal lightly rubbing against his aching groin.

“Torankusu,” Gohan himself releases a desirous moan, breathing his hot breath into Trunks’ warm mouth.

“Awww, you guys are too sweet.”

At that unforeseen utterance, Gohan and Trunks swiftly turn outside and see their adversaries Juunanagou and Juuhachigou, standing out there in the rain, smirking at them.

And it’s only now that Trunks realizes they’ve completely forgotten about those two Androids.

“I see you’ve got yourself a new bitch. Why, got tired of the little one so soon?”

“Teme,” Gohan’s eyes narrow at Juunanagou.

“What d’you say we break this sweet little party up?” the raven-haired Android then smirks at his partner.

“Sure,” the blonde responds with vile smugness.

Trunks just suddenly feels his ki flare up, and Gohan’s hug turn even protectively fiercer around him. He tilts his gaze up to his lover, and resolves that this time, it’s /his/ turn to fight for him.

To protect him, his Gohan-san.

***

Even before Gohan and Trunks can anticipate it, Juunanagou breaks them up with a potent blast, and sends the lovers flying in opposite directions inside the spacious, dim building.

“Torankusu!”

“I’m okay, Gohan-san!” Trunks is quick to assure him. He picks himself up from amongst that light pile of rocks, and is just about to rush into that surrounding heavy mass of dust for Gohan, when he feels a harsh tug by his collar. Glancing back, he sees Juuhachigou now right behind him.

“I like this,” the blonde remarks with an icy smile, tugging harder in an effort to take Trunks’ jacket off him. “It looks a lot better than this boring old crap,” and then snorts at the black denim vest she’s wearing.

Trunks slips his arms off of his jacket, leaving it in the female Android’s hands so he can assume his fighting stance before her.

Juuhachigou’s sly eyes narrow. “Hmm.” She flips the blue jacket over to hang by the nearest window in the meantime, and then looks the young man up and down, noting, “Such a pretty form he’s got, ne.”

“Pretty alright,” agrees the smirking Juunanagou, his menacing presence now hovering behind Trunks. “He’s even –”

“Don’t you touch him!” Gohan, now ablaze in his Super Saiyajin form, charges towards Juunanagou. He gives the male Android a powerful kick to the face, but the unscathed Juunanagou manages to take an even more powerful grip of Gohan’s leg and hurls him crashing through the nearby wall.

“Gohan-san!!!” And in one split-second, Trunks transforms himself into a blazing Super Saiyajin.

“Oh, what’s this?” Juuhachigou cocks an eyebrow.

“You’re dead!” Trunks releases a sharp cry, and before Juuhachigou can even take a wild guess what he’s capable of doing, he lunges at her and, with a single ball of burning energy, blasts her body into a million, tiny pieces .

“Nanda…” Although there’s not much reaction showing in his eyes, Juunanagou’s mouth is, for once, agape in disbelief.

Trunks promptly turns to Juunanagou with a smirk, which just turns even wider as he then clenches a fist to attack him. The punch he throws easily finds the targeted jaw, sending the Android flying and smashing into the thick, dark wall behind them.

“Torankusu?”

The young man whirls to see Gohan there standing at some distance from him, gawking, perhaps unable to believe all that’s just come to pass in the past few seconds before his very eyes.

Adoring that startled look on his lover’s face, Trunks’ mouth is just about to crack into a smile, when Gohan alerts him to watch his back.

Trunks can sense the provoked Juunanagou about to give him a kick from behind, but he easily beats him to it by giving him his own kick, sending him soaring once again. And before the quick Android can even begin to recover from that, Trunks finally decides to put an end to his nemesis’ existence by launching an ungodly blast from his palm right to him. In no time, Juunanagou meets the same fate as his femalecounterpart’s as countless bits of his cyborg body burn to embers.

Dust, smoke, and flames then swathe around the building for the next few moments. The heavy rain just then starts to slack off into a drizzle, and as things settle down at last, Trunks, back to his normal form, finds himself face-to-face with his dark-haired koibito once more.

“That was awesome, Torankusu,” Gohan flashes him a big, glowing grin. “/You’re/ awesome.”

“Arigatou,” Trunks blushes, self-consciously brushing some dust away from his tank top.

The older half-saiyajin surveys the spread of ashes across them, and then heaves a deep sigh of relief. “Kami-sama… We finally got rid of them.”

“Hai, finally,” beams Trunks, more thankful that the Androids hadn’t hurt his Gohan-san too much.

Just then, the two just sense a burst of ki nearby, before they hear a voice, a boy’s specifically, calling out Gohan’s name.

“Oh no,” Trunks winces at Gohan, “it’s, me.”

“He’s already come to, yeah.”

“Let’s hurry, Gohan-san, before he sees us.”

With urgency, Trunks snatches away his jacket there hanging from the window, and then takes Gohan’s hand to lead him out the building through the other side.

“Things might get complicated if he sees us together,” he explains to Gohan, who then concurs with a firm nod and holds Trunks’ hand to get them both out of there now.

***

Deciding it’s best if they get as far away from the city as possible, Gohan takes Trunks to the beach they had once trained at, since the drizzle has already started petering out, anyway. Besides, he doesn’t think the younger Trunks would consider searching for him there.

However, as they land down by the rocky reefs on the shore, Gohan just suddenly feels like flying back to the city for his little koi, and assure him he’s alright. He doesn’t want to worry the kid more than he already has.

“Don’t worry,” the older Trunks then shatters his bothered thoughts, as if he was able to read them, “I won’t be taking you too long away from him. I’m just gonna… I just wanna be with you for a little while more. If it’s okay with you…”

Gohan feels all his anxiety fade at that earnest look of plea on his young lover’s face.

How could he even begin to turn down such a simple request, anyway?

“I understand, koi,” he gives him a warm smile, which just turns even warmer as he sees the utter gratitude etched on Trunks’ own smile.

With more ardor in his eyes this time he looks at Trunks, drinking in the smooth, sculpted play of muscles on his bare shoulders and arms and clung onto by that black tank top. The cool wind wafts some of the strands by his face, misting those moist, pink lips for a moment.

Gohan slips his hand behind Trunks’ neck to reach for his ponytail, and then unties it with one swift tug, causing the rest of those long, silky purple locks to flow down those sinewy shoulders.

A soft gasp promptly glides its way out of Trunks’ lips. The jacket slips off of his quivering fingers as Gohan’s own gentle fingers slowly weave through his long locks.

And then, unable to resist that soft pair of parted lips any longer, Gohan cups the side of Trunks’ face with his hand, and brings his mouth down to his young koibito’s.

The two men let their supple, silken lips caress the other’s ever so tenderly, and as Trunks lifts his hands to cup Gohan’s face as well, the older man takes gentle nibbles of Trunks’ lower lip, licking it slowly, before he finally slips his arduous tongue through all the warmth and sweetness of his mouth.

The lovers pull each other to themselves on impulse, letting their bodies meld together in heat and passion.

By his thigh, Gohan can feel Trunks’ nascent arousal, pressing hard against his sensitive inner flesh. Before he can restrain himself, his hand then just wanders down to slip its way into the tight space between their bodies, eager to dive into Trunks’ pants.

Trunks momentarily gasps in their kiss as Gohan now has his hand inserted in his underpants, his warm, callused palm touching his throbbing cock.

Gohan shortly breaks the kiss to peek at Trunks’ reaction, but an immediate moan out of the younger man tells him he needn’t /see/ Trunks is just relishing in the warm gentle feel of his caressing fingers.

Trunks then places his forehead on Gohan’s shoulder, leaning his palms on his lover’s firm chest as Gohan’s hand continues to work on his genitals, fondling his warm testicles, slip-sliding his fingers up and down his smooth erection, teasing its wet, sensitive tip.

In between moans, Trunks manages to place gentle and moist kisses along the pale, satin skin of Gohan’s neck, while Gohan savors the sweet scent of that lavender hair.

As Trunks’ kisses then turn deeper, his hips start to rock, his crotch pressing harder against Gohan’s hand.

Mild surprise conquers Gohan’s face as Trunks then loosens the waist of his black pants, as well as his boxer shorts, before letting all his lower clothing drop down to his ankles, and baring himself from the waist down. As he kicks his shoes and pants off, Trunks’ fingers then work to loosen the knot of the blue sash around Gohan’s waist.

Gohan slides his wet hand around Trunks’ hip as he himself now kicks his shoes off, and lets his young lover strip him from the waist down likewise.

With both men now half-naked, Trunks rests his hands fixed on either side of Gohan’s bare hips, and then looks up at him with a lazy, desirous smile. Gohan pulls Trunks even closer to himself to make their naked, burning arousals touch.

Moans shimmy their way out of the couple’s lips the moment their erections come into contact. They rub themselves hard against each other, before Gohan gently pushes Trunks back to lean against the tall rocks behind him. The older man then drops down to his knees, right there before Trunks, and then with his hand placed on that soft, ivory inner thigh, starts to lick the entire length of Trunks’ erection.

Trunks’ knees begin to buckle in reaction, but the younger half-saiyajin manages to keep himself from slumping against Gohan by taking a firm grasp of his broad shoulders.

With his hand sliding along that silky inner thigh, Gohan arduously licks the base of Trunks’ cock, and then his balls, suckling on one after the other, before he slides his lips up to the moist head and takes the cock into his ravenous mouth as far as it would go.

At first slowly, he lets his tongue dance around the thick, rigid member, tasting his sweet-salty flavor. And then, as he cups those tightening balls in his hand, he sucks faster and tighter and deeper, causing the breathless Trunks to thrust his hips spasmodically to him, and bury his fingernails into the hardened muscles of his shoulders.

Disinclined to end it yet, however, Gohan releases Trunks before he can reach climax, and then takes the blue jacket there by the side. He spreads it out on the sand, before pulling Trunks down by his hips to make him sit on that makeshift blanket.

With Trunks’ lean legs there now sprawled out in invitation, Gohan at once sidles up to him. He positions his hand on the rocks for support, and then places his hips right over the younger man’s, straddling him.

As Trunks takes a grip of Gohan’s hips to keep him balanced, the older half-saiyajin rocks himself against his koibito, letting their balls rub fiercely against each other, and their slick members slide against all the hot moistness.

Trunks leans his head back against the rocks, his lips parted to let out pleasure-filled moans, his deep blue eyes locked onto Gohan’s deep black orbs. Some strands of hair drape over his neck, and Gohan bends down to brush them away with a gentle blow, before deciding to suckle on the soft, delicate skin just beneath Trunks’ ear.

Gohan then moves his hand down to Trunks’ abs, lifting the hem of that tank top in an effort to take it off. Getting the hint, Trunks gently pushes Gohan away from him as he straightens up to divest himself of his upper clothing. And then, tossing that black piece aside, he starts to take off Gohan’s orange gi top and blue shirt as well, when the older man just halts his rocking, and grasps Trunks’ hand.

“Nani? Something wrong?”

A moment of eerie silence ensues, before Gohan lets his lips graze over Trunks’ fingertips. “You don’t wanna see me all naked,” he then whispers, his ebony eyes shifting to the side of his lost arm.

“I do,” the resolute Trunks disagrees, slipping his hands underneath Gohan’s shirt before the older man can further protest.

With swift hands, Trunks gets to undress Gohan fully, and as Gohan now sits there unable to look his beautiful lover in the eye, Trunks takes a firm grasp of his left shoulder and showers its unsightly stump with his warm and tender earnest kisses.

“Torankusu,” Gohan sighs, clutching a lock of his loving koibito’s hair.

After a few more kisses, Trunks then lifts his eyes to look Gohan in the face. “You’ll always be beautiful to me no matter what,” he affirms with a smile.

In response, Gohan wraps his arm around Trunks and pulls him even closer for a deep kiss. Trunks wraps his arms around him in return, leaving not the tiniest space between their locked naked bodies.

As much as Gohan can ravage those lips forever, he now slides his mouth down to Trunks’ neck, and then down to his chest, kissing his battle scars with all fervor. As Trunks leans back to give him more room, Gohan works his lips down to one of Trunks’ nipples, and then gives the swollen nub a tight suck.

He then lets his hand saunter along to caress Trunks’ lean, smooth back, before settling to stroke the firm cheeks of his buttocks. Before he knows it, he already has his fingers sauntering down further, trying to wiggle their way into a warm and tight crevice.

And it’s only by the time Trunks jerks that Gohan realizes what he’s doing.

“Gomen, gomen ne, koi,” Gohan quickly asks for Trunks’ forgiveness, burying his face in those purple tresses as if trying to conceal himself from him.

For a few, still seconds the lovers just sit there together, locked in each other’s embrace, until Trunks’ soft, assuring words break the silence.

“I’m okay with it, Gohan-san. Take me as you wish.”

“Ie. I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“… But I don’t care if you hurt me.”

Gohan is just about to react to that, when Trunks keeps another word from leaving his lips with yet another deep kiss.

After a fervid minute or so, Trunks slowly breaks the kiss off and disentangles himself from Gohan. And then, he turns himself around to go on all fours right before his lover.

“Is this what you want, Gohan-san?” he looks back over his shoulder, giving Gohan an impish, yet reassuring, smile.

Although there’s still quite a hint of hesitation apparent on his face, Gohan finds himself smiling in return nevertheless.

He sidles up to that smooth behind, letting his hand caress it lovingly for a few moments, before he takes a steady grip of Trunks’ hip and sits on his raised heels.

Trunks’ elbows bend with a slight jerk as Gohan starts to slide a moist finger into his taut pucker. With extreme care, the older half-saiyajin swirls his forefinger into the hot and sensitive walls of his koibito’s hole, trying to stroke him until he can feel him easing up a little. Gradually, then, he slips another finger in, slackening the tight muscles a little bit more.

And then deeming Trunks already stretched enough for him, Gohan at last positions himself on his knees behind the younger man, placing his legs inside Trunks’. Guiding his slick member into that rear crevice, he then begins to penetrate him.

A hiss breaks out from Trunks the minute Gohan’s thick and rigid cock makes its gradual entry into him. Gohan tightens his grip on that smooth hip as he further buries himself into Trunks, and in a short while he begins to slide in and out, thrusting himself steadily into him.

His head tossing back and hair gently swaying in the wind, Trunks lets out a long moan. Gohan thrusts himself even faster and deeper now, drawing another loan moan out of Trunks, and out of himself likewise.

For the next few minutes, with their bodies locked in violent and passionate rocking, it’s only the sound of the lover’s moans and heavy breathing that can be heard in the long stretch of that beach.

Both cry out each other’s names as they near the point of orgasm, and in just a matter of seconds Gohan fills the hot tightness sheathing him with his even hotter release. He slides his hand then around to Trunks’ crotch, sensing he’s about to come now himself, and then after stroking him some more, Gohan finally feels Trunks own hot, sticky fluid spill onto his fingers.

With sheer ease he then slides himself out of Trunks, and in exhaustion the two young men drop to lay themselves together on the spread-out jacket, Gohan flat on his back, hugging Trunks there by his side. Trunks snuggles himself into Gohan, and the lovers spend the next quiet moments trying to catch their breath, and relishing in the feel of each other’s bare, sweaty bodies.

***

“So he wasn’t that all, /father/ly with you, eh? Somehow it doesn’t surprise me.”

“He was pretty much, well… I guess you could say, an asshole.”

A chuckle.

“Now I see why ‘kasan kept telling me not to expect too much from him.”

“At least now you know.”

“Yeah.” A sigh. “But I still respect the man at any rate, y’know. I mean, he’s my /otousan/ after all, and he makes me proud I’m his son. I guess that should be enough.”

“Vegeta was just really like that ever since, don’t worry. I’m sure that, deep inside, he was all proud to see his son’s grown up one heck of a fighter. I know /I/ am.”

A smile. “I just knew you’d be, anyway.”

“Heh, I never imagined you’d turn out this /fine/, either.” A naughty simper.

“Hah, so now you know what you’d be missing if you left me.”

“Left your younger self, you mean.”

“Yeah. That lucky kid… Oh man, I just realized — it’s gonna be even harder for him now to become Super Saiyajin, now that you’re alive. I mean, what’s left to feed his rage now?”

“Well… I dunno. I can always tell him ’bout /us/.”

The lovers share a healthy chuckle for a few moments, before settling to share silence once anew.

And then, in the vast comfort of their shared silence, Trunks just wishes time would stop right that instant, so he needn’t ever be away from Gohan again. He wishes he could just stay there forever lying on that beach and locked in an embrace with him.

But of course he can’t.

He has to get back in time to fight with his friends in the Cell Game, and then eventually, back to his own timeline, where he really belongs. Where there’s no trace of his Gohan-san around anymore.

A low, gentle voice just then shatters his glum thoughts. “Oi, you okay?” Gohan asks, caressing Trunks’ cheek with uncanny tenderness.

“Far from it,” whispers Trunks, hugging his lover tighter. “I have to leave soon.”

The older man slides his arm down to Trunks’ waist and gives him an even tighter hug in return, planting a kiss on his forehead, before rubbing his cheek against those silky lavender strands.

“He should be waiting for you now, y’know, my younger self?” Trunks rubs his cheek back against Gohan’s chest. “I’m sure he’s crying his eyes out right now worrying ’bout you.”

“Well, yeah but, I know how much this must mean to you right now, too. Let me just hold you for a little while more. Okay, koi?”

“Okay.” Trunks buries his face in his lover’s chest, buries the hot tears that can’t seem to stop streaming down his cheeks. “Arigatou.”

“Ie, /I/ should be thanking you, for risking to come here.”

In the warm, urgent hug of Gohan’s lone arm, Trunks quietly lies, savoring the last moments he has with his sole beloved, and making certain he’ll take every bit of them with him on his way back.

“Ai shiteru, Torankusu…”

***

Gohan feels something wrench at his chest as he walks farther down the hall, approaching that open door to Trunks’ bedroom. Buruma had informed him a moment ago that the boy had spent all night just crying alone in his room, and although Gohan had already pretty much guessed it even before he came knocking at the front door, it just never fails to crush him to hear Trunks sob like that, especially since he’s shedding tears right now over /him/ to begin with.

Nonetheless, the young Son resolves to walk the remaining distance to the room, and then pauses before the door to see Trunks inside sitting on an edge of his bed, his slender shoulders humped, and his teary eyes turned to the clear sky across his window.

“Torankusu,” Gohan spurts out, his voice choked with emotion.

Trunks turns to the door in a flash, and the tears in his eyes just seem to well up even more as he cries out his mentor’s name. “Gohan-san!”

“I’m sorry I made you worry, koi,” Gohan earnestly tells him, rushing to hold the younger man close to himself.

Even before Gohan can coil his arm around him, Trunks reaches out and wraps his arms around the older man’s body. “I thought they’d killed you, Gohan-san,” he cries out some more.

“Shush,” Gohan soothes his young koibito, gently rocking that smaller body curled onto him, “it’s all over now, the jinzouningen are finally dead. We’re all gonna live peacefully from now on.”

“Really?” Trunks pulls away from their hug to wipe the moistness from his cheeks, and look Gohan straight in the eye. “They’re dead? You killed ’em?”

“Ie.”

“Nani? Then who did?”

A charmed smile curls around Gohan’s lips as he raises his fingers to stroke the smoothness of Trunks’ cheek. “A strong, beautiful young man did.”

“Who?” Trunks pouts, his attractive face now set in a half-scowl.

Gohan releases a tender chuckle. “Don’t be jealous, he’s gone now. Besides, he already knew all about us.”

Apparently appeased with his words, Trunks lets his lips form a broad smile, before pressing them firmly against Gohan’s. The older half-saiyajin pulls him closer once again, indulging him with a long and intense kiss.

“Ai shiteru, Gohan-san,” Trunks asserts as they end their kiss.

“I know,” Gohan replies, planting a smack on Trunks’ forehead. “Ai shiteru.” He then pulls away from his young lover’s hug meantime, and unties the sleeves of that blue jacket wrapped around his waist.

“Hey, a Capsule Corp jacket?” Trunks remarks, noting the Briefs family’s corporate insignia on a sleeve.

“Hai, this is for you,” Gohan smiles, helping the youth put the jacket on.

“Where’d you get it?”

“… It’s a secret.”

A slight chuckle wriggles out of Gohan’s lips as he leans back to look at Trunks, and sees that the jacket’s just a little too big for him, alright.

“It’s not my size,” winces Trunks.

“Not yet.”

“It’s cool, though,” the kid smiles at any rate, hugging Gohan tight in appreciation once again.

Gohan hugs his little koi once again as well, and then gazes out the window across them, mouthing out his silent thanks to a certain young man somewhere out there in the future.

The young man who’s made it all possible for him now to live in a better world with his Trunks, to savour many more moments like this just holding him close to himself.

Yes, the young man who will forever hold a special place in his heart, for he is, after all…

His mirai no koibito.

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