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“Gohan.” Blue eyes bore into black. “I like you.”

Gohan smiled down at him. “I like you too, Trunks.”

Frustration furrowed Trunks’ brows. “That isn’t—” He protested with a grumble, balling his hands into fists before he felt his cheeks heating. He tried to set a look of confident determination on his face. “I like you Gohan.” He emphasised. “Like-Like!”

That expression went from gentle to confused before finally settling on understanding. “I — oh—”

And that? That didn’t sound good—

Now, instead of an understanding expression, Gohan wore an awkward grin on his face, with even more awkward laughter leaving his chest. “I… see—”

I see?! I see?! Trunks narrowed his eyes, forcing down the tears, down the sorrow, down the pain— “Is — Is that all you have to say?!”

Sorrow flashed across those beloved features before Gohan knelt down to his level. “Trunks…” He reached out and clasped his shoulder. “I – I’m flattered that you feel this way—”

Why did Trunks feel that there was a but coming?

“But…”

…Because there it was—

Gohan winced. “You’re too young—”

Trunks shrugged off Gohan’s hand, scoffing. “Tch! I should’ve known you’d say that!” He turned around, letting his back face the other. “You’re a broken record! You always say that— First, I was too young to train! Then, I’m too young to help you battle the androids! And now I’m too young to have feelings—!”

“No – I – arg!”

“Whatever!” Trunks stepped away before taking off into the skies and flying towards where they were currently staying. It was always the same with Gohan—! Why did he even think that this time would’ve been any different?!

.+++.

Trunks avoided Gohan for a couple of days. Mom tried to ask him about it, but Trunks refused to answer. There was no point in talking about it, either. She was just as bad as Gohan when it came to his age. He was her baby boy— He remembered her arguing with Gohan about his training and it wouldn’t surprise him if she had protested him helping Gohan fight the androids, either. He could only imagine what she would’ve thought about him liking somebody—

Of course— he couldn’t avoid Gohan forever. Once he licked his wounds, Trunks showed up for training…

“I — Trunks…?”

“Save it.” Trunks grunted out. “I don’t wanna hear it. We gunna train or what?”

Guilt burdened Gohan’s features and it looked like he was about to protest, but then he sighed, a weary expression flickering before he nodded. “…Very well. Come at me, Trunks.”

And if Trunks was a little more aggressive than usual, so what? Besides, Gohan did instruct him to embrace his anger…

.+++.

When Gohan finally agreed to let him help battle the androids, Trunks couldn’t help but feel a spark of hope light within him— Ever since his confession, they went on like normal, as if it had never happened. Trunks didn’t want to talk about it and Gohan didn’t press after being denied the first few times. But — with Gohan finally deeming him old enough to battle the androids then maybe – just maybe – the time for him to be old enough to have feelings was just around the corner— He could even picture it—: Gohan taking him aside and apologising, telling him that he was old enough— And then the two of them would—

A sharp pain at the base of his skull cut those thoughts short and, as the edges of his vision darkened, he could hear Gohan apologising.

—Young. Trunks was always too young—

.+++.

Trunks didn’t feel as the rain pelted down on him. Gohan’s apology ringing over and over in his mind. No— No— This couldn’t— Gohan couldn’t— He shook the other, but he didn’t move— No—

N—O—

It wasn’t fair! It wasn’t right—! Gohan couldn’t be—

Power rumbled deep within him before it exploded out of him— Light – golden yellow light – lit up his surroundings, but Trunks couldn’t feel elated at the transformation.

I’m sorry—

Wails escaped him and he collapsed atop Gohan, clutching to his shirt—

It wasn’t fair— It wasn’t fair— It wasn’t fair—

Trunks sobbed loudly, mourning the loss of his mentor, the loss of what could have been, the loss of their future— All because he was too weak, too human, too young—

He screamed, pounding his fists on Gohan’s unmoving chest.

Why? Why? Why?!

.+++.

As the years went by, as the battles were waged, Trunks had accepted his fate. Mom worked diligently on the time machine as Trunks bought them time. The pain never, truly, faded. Gohan’s death tore a hole in him that was difficult to overcome. He let that rage fuel him in his battles, but it never was enough. ~He never was enough.~ Not for their future. ~Not for Gohan—~ His anger, too, was not only at the androids, not even at himself, but also at Gohan— For lying to him, for denying him— Too young. Too young. Bull shit! If he was old enough to train, to battle, to risk his life, then he should be old enough to— That too young bullshit was why they never had the chance to— Why? Why did Gohan baby him so? Why couldn’t he have just…

—Shoulda, coulda, woulda— There was no point on mulling on the possibilities, was there…? Trunks exhaled, setting his sights back on the present. He had androids to distract…

.+++.

Seeing Gohan again gave Trunks mixed emotions. Of course, he knew that this was not his Gohan, ~at least not yet,~ yet his heart ached— This was the boy who would become the man that he loved— But, then again, Trunks’ very actions were going to prevent this Gohan from becoming that man who was shaped by loss. It was a bittersweet realisation, but a necessary action. He was fighting a losing battle and if he could prevent Gohan’s death it was worth it…

~And, perhaps, his counterpart would be given the time that was not allotted for him…~

He yearned to confess everything, to interact with Gohan without the secrets and boundaries, but his counterpart was yet to be born— And, besides, right now Gohan was so innocent and pure, something that Trunks hoped to preserve— He remembered the tales Gohan had told him, the dreams that the androids had shattered. Perhaps there could be a Gohan who could pursue his dreams of becoming a scholar…

As he bid the past warriors farewell, he couldn’t wait to meet them again…

.+++.

Even the smallest changes have a rippling effect, Trunks realised when he had returned to the past.

Chaos had erupted: androids that he had never seen before… Goku contracting the virus much later… An abomination from the future… Within the span of a few days everything that Trunks had anticipated had crumbled to reality. And now, here they were, just over a week away from the battle that would decide all of their fates. Goku had informed them of a special room that stretched time. That one day outside of it became an entire year inside— There were limitations: only two days per person, and Trunks had utilised his first day with his father, getting to know the man and convincing him that he was a worthy son. Gohan, too, spent a year with his own father, and when the boy had emerged from those chambers beside Goku, the two of them were Super Saiyajin. Seeing the progress made Trunks feel an immense swell of pride. Of course, he knew that in his timeline, Gohan had achieved the transformation during the initial attack, but the knowledge that Gohan did not have to go through that trauma, at the very least, was comforting. He couldn’t help admitting to himself that the energy signature brought forth a sense of nostalgia, memories of his mentor at the back of his mind…

~Ah… how he missed Gohan…~

“Trunks?” Gohan asked with soft, innocent, eyes. “Would you like to come over?”

Trunks smiled. “Of course.” How could he resist that wholesome request?

.+++.

With Piccolo occupying the chamber, Trunks spent the day at the Son household. Despite the horrors they faced and the impending doom, Gohan was still outgoing, was still smiling, was still optimistic. They had prevented the initial doomsday, delaying the fated future of this timeline for a little longer. It made him happy to see a Gohan who had not yet faced such a devastating tragedy. It was a completely different side of his mentor. ~One that hadn’t been killed here.~ But, then again, Trunks supposed that this Gohan was not his mentor— And Trunks would do everything in his power to keep that so.

(No matter how much Trunks missed his mentor, it was sheer utter tragedy that created that man, and Trunks would mourn the loss of this pure and innocent soul—)

The Gohan before him was a budding seedling, and Trunks hoped they would succeed so that he could grow unhindered by the burdens of his timeline. Already, Gohan was a year older thanks to the chamber— Trunks was hopeful for this young man…

“Trunks—” Gohan uttered his name with fascination. “When you go back to train, do you think that I could join you?”

Trunks smiled softly. “As nice as the offer is,” he ruffled the yellow hair, “spend time with your family. Besides…” he whispered, “your mom would never agree.”

Disappointment flashed in Gohan’s eyes. “Yeah… you’re right…”

While Trunks would admit that the offer was tempting, he also didn’t want to take away another year of Gohan’s youth. He flashed a reassuring smile. “But thank you for the offer.”

Gohan smiled back.

.+++.

When Trunks wasn’t training, he spent the time either with his family, or with the Sons. Gohan enjoyed their time together and Trunks supposed he couldn’t blame the boy. Trunks was the closest person that Gohan ever had to his age. Plus, Trunks had the advantage of already knowing parts of Gohan. They got along well and it truly was the calm before the storm. A part of him almost regretted declining Gohan’s offer to train together in the chamber— The two of them would have benefitted greatly from it, as well as enjoying it— Yet, he still was adamant that he didn’t want to steal even more time from Gohan’s youth. He deserved to grow up with the freedom of choice—

Quicker than he would have liked, their days together had dwindled and the tournament loomed just over the horizon.

“Trunks…” Gohan’s voice shook ever so slightly. Trunks could tell that he was trying to hide his fear and his dread. Trunks couldn’t blame him. Cell had been a threat that they had not been prepared for. The androids: Seventeen and Eighteen had been their concern. Not Nineteen, Not Twenty. Not Sixteen— And most certainly not a creature from even Trunks’ future—

~He tried to put that knowledge behind him. It wasn’t important right now— They needed to survive tomorrow and then Trunks would worry about it…~

“Yes, Gohan?” Trunks tried to give the younger Saiyajin a reassuring smile. Tried to be the older, wiser, stronger one for Gohan’s sake.

“What do you think will happen tomorrow?”

Trunks strained a smile. “Not even I have that answer, Gohan.” He clasped Gohan’s shoulder in comfort with one of his hands. “But whatever tomorrow brings, we will face it together.”

Gohan stared up at him, his aqua eyes wide in… something. He swallowed, rubbing his lips together, hand resting on top of the hand that Trunks had on his shoulder. “Trunks—”

Seeing that Gohan was working up to something, Trunks hummed in acknowledgement. The moment stretched, breaking when Gohan finally spoke the words that were on his mind.

“I like you.”

As Trunks took in the words – the confession – on the eve of battle, ice ran through his veins. He was brought back to his childhood when he had confessed those very words to his mentor— In a matter of seconds, realisation dawned upon him as he found himself standing in the shoes his mentor once wore—

“Gohan…”

He found himself understanding. Understanding the shock. Understanding the denial. Understanding the responsibility— And, while Trunks understood the actions and words that his mentor had taken and spoken, at the very same time Trunks understood Gohan’s position in all of this: a child who looked up to the first person they could relate to, the idolisation and fascination, an imminent threat looming over their shoulders— And Trunks knew that he could not follow in his mentor’s footsteps. No, he owed it to Gohan to respond in a way that wouldn’t completely break his heart—

“I understand your feelings.”

He wouldn’t dismiss Gohan’s feelings, wouldn’t diminish or negate them. What Gohan felt was real, was tangible, and he wouldn’t deny their existence, or Gohan’s capacity to feel them—

Hope and desperation shone in Gohan’s eyes, and Trunks could almost hear the maybes that Gohan was likely telling himself—

“I understand the urge and pressure to confess, considering that life as we know it hangs in the balance.”

But, as he spoke words that differed from Gohan’s expectations, that hope and desperation began to fade, and Trunks had to smile sadly, pressing his other hand against Gohan’s cheek.

“But I am much older than you.”

Older than, not too young. The focus of his rejection needed to be on him and not on Gohan. That was the key here. ~The one that his mentor had failed to consider.~

Gohan’s eyes widened and he clutched onto Trunks’ wrist, holding him there, leaning into the touch. “That doesn’t matter!” He protested. “I don’t care—!”

Oh how Trunks’ heart called out to him as he remembered when he was in Gohan’s shoes. And he knew that he would have made those same protests as well, given the opportunity. He sighed softly, keeping their gazes locked. “I know you don’t, Gohan. All too well. And while I know that your feelings are real, and valid, I cannot return them.”

Tears glistened in Gohan’s eyes, and Trunks mourned for the heartbreak he was witnessing there. “But—”

Moving the hand on Gohan’s shoulder, he slid it to his back, pulling Gohan into an embrace, his other hand now cradling the base of Gohan’s skull.. “I know, Gohan. I know—” He murmured softly. “You’ve grown a lot. You’re strong. You’re responsible. You’re big enough to feel these emotions. But that isn’t the issue here. No, I can’t because you’re much younger than I am, Gohan.”

The grip on his arm released before Gohan, instead, clutched to his shirt and he sobbed. Trunks looked down with guilt in his eyes, wishing – more than anything – that he didn’t have to deny Gohan, that he didn’t have to break his young heart, that he didn’t have to step into his mentor’s shoes like this—

Oh… the irony—

Trunks finally realised what his mentor was trying to say all those years ago, what Trunks had refused to hear, too stubborn and prideful to accept it—: It wasn’t that he was too young to feel, but that he was too young for Gohan… Yet, it took for the roles to be flipped for him to finally realise it—

Sniffling brought Trunks back to the present, and he patted Gohan’s hair softly.

“It isn’t fair…” He muttered quietly.

Trunks smiled sadly. “I know, Gohan, I know.”

After another moment of silent, Gohan looked at him meekly. “You’re… not upset?”

“No Gohan, of course not. You can’t help what you feel…”

Gohan pouted. “…I wish I was older.”

Trunks chuckled softly and ruffled his hair. “Don’t be in such a hurry to grow up, Gohan.”

Gohan stuck out his tongue, and Trunks knew, then, that the other was going to be alright.

.+++.

Trunks groaned as he opened his eyes, gaining his bearings. One moment they were mourning Goku’s sacrifice, the next pain had surged through his chest and—

Suddenly something slammed into him and he had a chest-full of Son hair—

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so—”

“I— wha—” Trunks blinked, looking down at Gohan who was sobbing into his chest. Distantly, Trunks noted that it was dark… But, as his eyes scanned about, he immediately zeroed in on the…

—Was that a dragon?!

“It’s my fault that you— If I had just listened and—”

Gohan was still blubbering into his chest and all Trunks could do was silently hold him close—

“…en you wouldn’t have died—”

Wait—

What?!

Realisation dawned upon Trunks at those words: the sobbing mess in his arms, the dark skies, the dragon looming over them— It meant that he had sustained a fatal blow— That he had died— (Which only brought even more realisations that he pushed aside for later) And now was the moment of his revival and— Trunks looked down at the hysterical youth clinging to him, and he pushed back the plethora of emotions, forcing himself to focus on Gohan and what Gohan needed. Oh, Gohan… And while Trunks was at a loss as to what to do, he looked down sadly and softly at Gohan, running his hands through those black locks, letting the other get those emotions out of his system: the grief, the guilt, the sorrow—

He was only half paying attention to his surroundings. It was only when Goku’s voice had sounded out, did both half-breeds’ attention focus back on the present.

“…Dad…?” Gohan mumbled softly.

Goku’s voice was in each of their heads as he communicated telepathically from the other realm. Apparently, Dende’s dragon balls had not brought Goku back from beyond, and when it was suggested that they go to New Namek to utilise those dragon balls, Goku had declined, on account of feeling responsible for all of the danger that Earth had been subjected to. He felt that his presence on Earth would just attract more trouble.

Trunks watched Gohan and saw the way that the news ate away at him, eroding away the remnants of light in his eyes. They glassed over before Gohan closed them once more—

Trunks bit his lip, his surroundings quickly becoming a blur once more. He offered comfort as Gohan not only mourned his death, but also Goku’s. The youth was likely tearing himself up inside with guilt. He gently brought Gohan’s head back against his chest, his hand weaving into those black locks. Despite Goku’s logic being sound, Trunks couldn’t help but curse the man. Gohan was still so young and by refusing to be revived, Goku was placing such a heavy burden onto his shoulders. One that Trunks was trying to prevent—! Trunks wanted Gohan to be able to embrace his dreams, not be burdened by the responsibility of being Earth’s protector—

Trunks did not realise when, exactly, Gohan had passed out in his arms, and he carefully carried him over to a bed on the Lookout Tower, brushing aside the lock of hair that always landed on his face. Trunks smiled sadly, admiring the strength of the youth in front of him. While he was proud, he could only mourn at just what it cost Gohan.

Ah… if only Trunks could remain here, to help ease that burden, even if just a bit…

.+++.

Trunks had anticipated that bidding the past farewell would be difficult, but he never thought it would have been this difficult— Yet, it must come to pass. Trunks had androids to defeat, a mentor to avenge, a timeline to save.

As he stared at Gohan, who was looking on longingly, the confession rung loudly in his mind. Trunks wondered if history would repeat itself a third time, his counterpart uttering those words to Gohan, as desperate and rosy-eyed as he did… Would Gohan have learned the very lesson that Trunks had?

But… at the very least, Trunks had bought them the time to explore those feelings, the time for his counterpart to grow into them…

He met Gohan’s gaze, yet another line coming to mind: “It’s not fair.”

And Trunks could only agree…

.+++.

Defeating the androids was the first step. Of course, with the knowledge that he had, he still had to wait for Cell to emerge. Thankfully, he had the date written down so that he would not be taken by surprise. In the mean time, he helped to rebuild the cities from the two decade’s worth of destruction.

As the days turned into years, Trunks found his anger at his mentor fading. Having been put into the same situation brought an understanding. And while Trunks understood, it did not mean that his mentor was without fault. Gohan could have handled the situation better, could have phrased his words differently. It had created a rift between them that had remained even beyond the grave. One that was only just now mending, Trunks finally being able to forgive his mentor.

Soon that fateful day was upon him, and Trunks lured the last android out with the time machine. This time, he was prepared, recognising Cell’s unique energy signature.

Without a moment to waste, Trunks send out an energy blast in that direction, turning to face the base form of Cell.

“Cell.”

“How—” And this time, it was Cell who was taken off-guard.

“Does it matter?” Trunks’ voice was cold, echoes of Gohan’s broken voice apologising in his mind. Cell had killed two versions of him, and Trunks was not about to let it happen a third time.

Thankfully, this form of Cell’s was much easier to overcome, and as the battle concluded, Trunks turned to face the time machine, the memories of the past rushing back to him…

He remembered the way that Gohan had cried into his chest at Goku’s decision. At his revival and death. At his… rejection— Time and time again Gohan had sought out comfort in his arms, even after the rejection—

“I wish I was older…”

Trunks stopped. Trunks stared. Trunks swallowed.

And, then, Trunks smiled.

.+++.

“Tr…unks…?”

Gohan had grown. No longer was he a young teen but a young man— One that was surprised by his unexpected visit, practically gawking at him.

“What.. what are you doing here?”

Trunks gave him a soft, mysterious, smile. “I figured that you guys would like to be informed of our success in my timeline. I just finished defeating Cell.”

“I… but…” Gohan sputtered, blinking in confusion. “It— It’s been so long—”

Trunks’ smile turned into a grin.

“Why didn’t you come earlier?”

“Well…” a huff of laughter escaped him before he could stop it, “I thought somebody wished that he was… older~”

Predictably, Gohan’s face lit up and nonsense left his lips, his hands flailing—

More chuckles left Trunks and he covered his mouth with a fist. Oh — things definitely were as he was thinking they might be. After giving Gohan a moment, he continued. “Of course… I do understand that things change over time…”

“No!” Gohan gasped, as if surprised at himself, and covered his mouth at the outburst. “I – I mean…”

Trunks gave a genuine smile and clasped Gohan’s shoulder. “It’s okay, Gohan. Really, I was just teasing you.” He let the atmosphere ease up before he continued, scratching his chin a little. “And… well, I was also… testing the waters?”

Gohan blinked at him, definitely not expecting that comment. His cheeks were still dusted lightly with pink, and he bit his lip.

“…Trunks?”

Trunks exhaled, his shoulders slumping a little. “I… well I was… I wanted to see if I could return your feelings if we were… closer in age. That is… if you still had them.”

“I – I—” Gohan stuttered. The pause was long before he nodded shyly and meekly.

…Where was that brazenness of a child wanting to be older? Nonetheless, it brought a smile to Trunks’ lips, and a warmth fluttered within him.

…Could there truly be a future between the two of them?

“I…” Trunks wet his lips. “Are… are you willing to explore that possibility with me, Gohan?”

When those eyes lit up and Gohan nodded eagerly, Trunks could only laugh.

There. There it was!

He pressed their foreheads together and closed his eyes.

Perhaps there could actually be a happy ending after all…