Trunks shivered when the breeze from the window hit him. Darn, it got cool all of a sudden! He wrapped the towel around his waist and ran to the bedroom. He could clean the shower when he was warmer.
Mom planned a big party for him later. He almost dreaded what she’d want him to do. Play “Spin the bottle” with the neighborhood girls, probably.
There was only one person he’d want to share the bottle with . . .
Trunks dashed into the bedroom, closed the door behind himself and walked to his bed — or would have, but it was occupied. And the unconscious occupant….
“Gohan! What are you doing here?” yelled Trunks. Then he put his hands over his mouth and blushed. No sense upsetting Mom. He wasn’t sure how she’d take to a naked, unconscious Gohan tied to the bedposts.
It looked as if he had been in a fight. But… How did he get there, and who tied him to the bedposts? Not that he wasn’t nice to look at, but… Well…
Anyway, whoever tied Gohan there had a twisted sense of humor. Festooned with pink and blue ribbons, covered in rose petals…
A certain soldier stood at attention as he studied Gohan. Of course, the towel fell off. With the door closed, no one saw, so Trunks didn’t bother covering up. He walked over to see if Gohan was all right.
Trunks saw a pink envelope tucked beneath Gohan’s buttocks. He managed to slide it from beneath Gohan and opened it to read the card inside :
I knew there was only one thing you wanted for your birthday, brat. So, I wrapped it up for you. Enjoy your birthday suit.
Vejita.
Trunks shook his head. “He can’t even say the word Dad, can he?” He started patting Gohan’s cheeks. “Wake up, would you?”
It was a helluva start to the day . . .
