Welcome to Boxer & Rice

The way Gohan looks at Trunks is much different than the way he looked at him ten years ago.

Long lavender hair falls over skin darker than his own as the hair tie is pulled out and tossed aside without care. Muscles ripple with the tender movement of looking at him over his shoulder with almost shy blue eyes and Gohan can feel the tug of a small grin pull at his lips.

The action makes him look something like the angels he has told him about in stories, beautiful and glowing and so different from the small prepubescent kid from his memories.

Confidence stands where awkwardness had been before as a hand runs over the length of him and Gohan eyes him with fascination. Trunks is every bit of pure, gorgeous royalty and he knows it, uses it to lure him in and he falls for it every time, drawn in like that of a magnet. He reaches out to touch him, nuzzling the slightly mussed strands and presses himself along the bare of his backside. His body is warm from sleep, better than the warmth of the bed and Gohan feels his backbone shiver from just the light graze of his knuckles against his cheek.

“Good morning, Little Prince,” he murmurs softly, his lips kissing just behind his ear and he hears the soft gasp that he lets slip. Gohan’s lips move along his neck, feathering more kisses in their wake as his arm wraps around the still smaller frame. He remembers wanting to hold Trunks like this back then, as an equal and not as his pupil or his little brother. The terror that the Androids waged had seen to it that it never happened. Now, having a second chance to, Gohan finds that he finds reasons to be close to him.

“Good morning.” Trunks’s voice is still rough and unused this early in the morning and goose bumps race up Gohan’s spine. The past has treated his development well. Just the sound of it makes his cheeks tinge pink with a light blush. He hums and breathes him in, still able to smell his scent on him and he smiles to himself.

Physical aside, Trunks has grown up to be the man Gohan knows he has always meant to be. Strength, preservation, and ferocity stack atop a sturdy foundation of passion and caring and wrap around him in the form of a body that is able and proud. It still comes as a shock to Gohan how much time has really passed.

Long moments pass before either of them says another word, content to watch the sky turn from night to dawn out their bedroom window. Every so often Gohan presses little kisses into his hair while his hand rubs over his torso and chest tenderly. He thinks how he can spend every morning like this and how there isn’t anything more perfect than being given this chance to have his little prince.

‘I love you.’