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“Gohan?”

“What?” Gohan’s head was hung low, as if in defeat. It didn’t suit him. He was strong, almost impossibly strong, the rock that Trunks stood on. Trunks might be the prince, but Gohan… Gohan was always at his back, always there for him. Gohan had lost even more than the rest of them had, and yet these moments were rare for him. Would it hurt so much to let him know that Trunks understood?

He cupped that strong chin with his hand, and turned Gohan’s face towards his own. Smiling fondly, he brushed away the always-errant lock of hair from Gohan’s face. He knew him so well. He could almost feel the ache behind those eyes. Gohan’s universe had lost all semblance of order the day the slaughter began. All he had left now was his father, who wandered along the cliff’s edge of sanity, Pan, and Trunks. He hadn’t dared to build anything more for himself in all these years, but everyone relied on him. And the one thing he’d asked for had been denied him, by Vejiita, by Trunks, and by his own sense of responsibility.

But maybe…

Perhaps they couldn’t have everything they wanted, but surely there was something…

Trunks leaned over and touched his mouth gently against Gohan’s. It was a soft kiss, and a gentle one, and chaste at first in case either one of them wanted to pass it off as a lark or a mistake. Neither one did.

Trunks let himself go. Nothing wrong could possibly come from something so sweet. His tongue played over Gohan’s, then slid deeper, their mouths opening for each other in the fundamental act of trust that was any true kiss. He wrapped his arms slowly around Gohan’s waist, feeling the taut muscles under thin cloth. He had wanted this for so long that it seemed unreal now.

This was exactly why he hadn’t let the earlier kiss go any further; he didn’t want to stop, ever, even though he had to.

Gohan ran one hand up into fine silken hair and pulled Trunks closer, not wanting to let the prince have any chance at second thoughts. Trunks was warm in his arms and under his mouth, and even though this couldn’t last, he was going to keep as much of it as he could. He tried to memorize everything, every sensation before it was too late, in case this was all he ever had of Trunks.

Hands roamed and bodies pressed together as tails came unwrapped and twined around each other, sending little shockwaves of pleasure through the two saiyajins. Heat built between them as mouths parted to taste other delicacies.