Teacher

BY : Demonic_Host
Category: Dragon Ball Z > Het - Male/Female
Dragon prints: 6883
Disclaimer: I do not own anything from the Dragonball Universe. I make no profit.

Teacher

Chapter Ten

 

With trembling hands, Gohan tried to steady himself. He wanted to knock on your door but after last night he realized that he might knock it down if he was too nervous. He wanted you back in his arms but knocking down your door was likely to do the opposite of that. Whatever that was exactly. So he tried to calm down. But even as his heart rate went back to normal the deafening thuds when his the back of his hand made contact with the wooden door still sounded too loud. The knock still seemed too angry. 

 

Gohan winced as he let his hand fall back down. He really needed to work on that. Especially considering he didn’t want to hurt you again. Even though he was contrite about the loudness of his knock, he was anxious for you to get to the door. Seconds ticked by and quickly turned into a minute. After two minutes from that first knock, he tried again. Then again. 

 

Nothing. 

 

Gohan squeezed his eyes closed as he tried to shut out all the negative thoughts running in his head. Everything that Bulma has said to him raced through his mind in different forms. “It’s better if you let her go with whoever he is,” turned into him visualizing that actually happening. He did not like what he saw in his mind’s eye, not one little bit. 

 

The young half saiyan tried knocking a final time. The door rattled. There was no way you would have missed that particular knock. Gohan curled both hands into fists as he balanced his weight onto the door. He leaned into it as his head rested on the thing blocking him from entering your house. At this point he started to realize either you weren’t home or you were intentionally ignoring the door. Both of those thoughts hurt for different reasons. Since he couldn’t feel your energy above that of any of your neighbors, or see through your windows, he had no idea of knowing which one was true. 

 

He sank down to the ground, turning around in the process. His back rested against your door as he brought his knees closer to his torso with his arms holding onto them in part. Gohan felt something inside of him trembling like it had been back at Bulma’s; something that wanted him to do not so nice things to every guy around you or to any person that got between you and he. If he moved, Gohan wasn’t certain that he would leave everything around him in tact. He couldn’t be sure that he wouldn’t search for you by taking to the sky or breaking into your house. In order to take neither action he stayed where he was. 

 

He focused on keeping his power suppressed so he didn’t create shockwaves strong enough to break your house. He focused on not hunting you down. Gohan had managed to forget about everything else as he focused on staying nonviolent, including forgetting that he left Goten at Bulma’s. His mind simply couldn’t fit every concern in there. 

 

“Gohan?” You asked in surprise when you realized what, or rather who, the huddled mass at your door was. 

 

Gohan looked up. As soon as he realized that you were there he stood up. You flinched when the abrupt movement turned into him covering the distance between you and he in the blink of an eye. Even more so when he buried himself into you. Almost instinctively you went to run soothing hands down his back and on the back of your head. When you felt him trembling, you realized what you were doing. In reality though that particular trembling was because of the fact that he was restraining himself from squeezing harder. He was trying to make sure he didn’t hurt you; trying to make sure he didn’t snap your fragile spine.

 

“You can let go now, Gohan.”

 

Gohan shook his head in negation. “Where were you?”

 

You knew that you didn’t have to answer him. In fact, answering him would probably only be detrimental to create the division he clearly needed. You also knew that you were just too mentally tired to stick out any other position. You also figured that the sooner he got an answer, the sooner he would let you go. And that would be in yours and his best interest. 

 

“I was teaching another student. Just like I told you I would be last night.”

 

Gohan realized he’d forgotten all about that. He felt foolish and embarrassed. Especially since you’d used a mild admonishing tone. His face warmed as his grip slackened and he stepped back, slightly mollified. Or he was until he also remembered that not all of your students were kids and that you were okay with being non-platonic with at least one of them (that wasn’t him). 

 

“What student?”

 

You stared at him silently with a reprimanding look in your eyes. He held his ground. In fact, the longer you stayed quiet the less meek he seemed. 

 

“What student?” He repeated. 

 

“That’s confidential,” you said in a professional, slightly clipped, tone. 

 

“Was it John?” Gohan asked as he felt the anger from earlier start to rise. 

 

“Confidential is an adjective meaning meant to be kept a secret,” you spoke at him again as you continued to your door. 

 

“I know what it means,” Gohan said quietly as he turned around to follow you with his eyes. 

 

“Good. I suppose that means you won’t need a basic vocabulary review,” was what you came back with as you started to unlock the door. 

 

You paused turning the handle when you felt Gohan’s arms wrap around your body from behind. He had snaked one of them through the gap between your waist and elbow and the other one under your outstretched arm. Gohan was so close behind you that even though you didn’t want to, you could feel the firmness of his chest with your shoulders. You could feel the hardness of his hip bones with your gluteus maximus; thankfully it was just the bones beneath the surface which currently felt hard. He even nuzzled his nose into the back of your skull, rooting around in your hair as though he were some kind of pig. 

 

“This is highly inappropriate Gohan,” you spoke to him as you kept your eyes on your door, jaw clenching. 

 

“Why?” He asked even though he sported his own embarrassed blush. Not that you could see it from where you were. 

 

“You’re a child,” you explained with your jaw still tight. 

 

“I’m fifteen—“

 

You interjected with, “Fourteen.”

 

Fifteen,” Gohan said firmly. As though a year would make all the difference. 

 

“You were born fourteen years ago,” you pressed as you gripped your doorknob as though it would give you the patience you needed. “That makes you Fourteen.”

 

“I aged a year with my dad in the hyperbolic time chamber. It was a year for me and him but just a day for everyone else. So I’m fifteen.”

 

“You know what? Fine! Fifteen. That’s still a kid.”

 

“In some regions around the world that still makes me a man.”

 

“Not in this one,” you argued back. 

 

“But I’m stronger and smarter than any other guy your age,” his tone didn’t even seem boastful or prideful. It actually sounded desperate if anything. 

 

One of your hands kept to the doorknob as the other one went to see if you could convince his hands to let go. It was doomed from the start but you had needed to try. 

 

“...Gohan, I’ve known you since you were nine—“

 

“Ten.”

 

“Ten. I used to babysit you when your mom had to go to town and you were my first student. You’ve grown a bit, sure, but you still look like the sad Ten year old that had recently lost his dad to me. That’s all I can see you as when I look at you because not much has changed. Your face...your voice...it’s still the same to me; you’re the same kid whom I met five years ago.”

 

Gohan was quiet for a moment as you opened the door to your house. He let you go so that you could walk into the entry. You didn’t turn back to look at him as you sat your stuff down just incase he took that as an invitation. When you finally turned around to see him and to close the door, he didn’t look as broken as you thought he would have. There was a presence in his dark eyes and upon his lips that was intense. 

 

“What if I looked and sounded like an adult tomorrow?”

 

“That’s not possible; there’s no scientific theory to support growth that spontaneous.”

 

“But what if?”

 

You shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t know if I’d still see the ten year old or if something that spontaneous, and impossible, growth would dislodge that image.”

 

“Okay!”

 

He’d left before you had the chance to remind him that even if he looked like an adult, he wouldn’t be. Not to mention he had still been your student. 



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