Welcome to DBZ Love Garden

There was infinite silence for the span of what seemed an hour, though the obsidian demi-Saiyan knew it couldn't have been more than a few seconds at most. What had made them appear longer was the fierce alien rigidness that had set like rigor mortis in his companion, and the singular thought to speak made him pause.

Crystalline blue had yet to travel upward from the floor, the hand by his shoulder clenching almost audibly. Concerned sable slanted sideways to view the red-streaked white of a furious fist and the Son swallowed.

He was too much like the cricket for his own good.

"Trunks-s-san…?" He thought, for a moment, he was about to become little more than the insect he mimicked as sharp-shot cerulean inched dangerously along the seam of the couch to settle near his knee.

But Trunks was destined to be nothing like the man who fathered him, and it was this thought that strode to undo the genealogy of his temper, to snap the branches on his tree and ignite them into nothing more than kindling for his stronger emotions.

"Gomen nasai, Gohan-san…kun…" Weary fingers, trembling with the might it took to hold his heritage at bay slid silvery strands slowly back from his face. "We didn't do anything, really…" pushing up from the back of the sofa, the taller half-breed shifted his tense figure. "I guess that was the problem. We didn't talk, or fight, or interact…" Mustering a breath proved difficult and he collapsed with the effort, laying his defeated expression in one hand. "He completely ignored me…"

"Trunks-san…" Gohan whispered, emotive being mournful of his lighter half's lament. The younger demi-Saiyan placed a small hand over the mechanically inclined digits that rested beside him and squeezed. "Gomen…I know Vegeta-san can be kind of annoying sometimes…" Blushing beautiful, the pink posed naturally on his nose. "But I like you better, anyway."

"Gohan--" Licking his lips against the dryness those words provoked, Trunks hastened to sit upright.

"I like you…a lot, Trunks-san," the Son debuted a darker shade of accompanying red. Tilting his head demurely, a shock of sable sliced through the rose tint of his words to tickle at the fine line of his jaw. "And there's…something I wanted to give you before you left," he laughed nervously, fingers going cold against the unnatural heat of his royal companion's hand. "I just didn't know how to before…" Small fingertips stroked awkwardly at his knuckles, downward, to interlace and entwine with his own.

Surprise was expressed in golden glow relief as another car lit the street below and flashed across the elven blue of widened eyes.

"I…"

"I told you I don't like girls, Trunks-san," Gohan shrugged adolescent shoulders inward, the fingers tightening around his dumbstruck compatriot's. The other hand picked absently, anxiously at the coloured line of his socks. "It's because," wetting his lips, a hitched breath preceded the expulsion of his declaration. "I like…you, Trunks-san."

"Chibi…"

The Son shook his head, pulling his legs up on the cushion beside him and facing his prince more fully. "I'm not a chibi, Trunks-san. Kun," he amended with a slight blush, the familiarity still new to him. "And I wanted…if I could…to…" one eye sought upward through sable locks to stare into inquisitive hazel. "Kiss…you…?"

Stunned, the amethyst ouji could only stare as the smaller Saiyan braced himself on hands and knees, palms finding an anchor on his lighter companion's thigh and shoulder to raise his slighter frame up to eye level.

"Can I?" The plea was breathless and brush stroked over his parted lips and the inquiry robbed him of speech as effectively as any thief. Briefs Trunks could only nod dumbly as those pert and pinkened lips were pushed delicately to his own. When they pulled away, he groaned with the loss, leaning forward to request them again. Seductive shards of persuasive onyx saved him the question.

"Stay with me tonight, Trunks…kun?"