The Broken Road

VixenzxMasqueradex—I have to tell you, I was super nervous about posting that chapter because even though I write smut like a shameless perv, I get totally bashful about posting it. Your review was the first feedback I got and it was so reassuring! You set my mind at ease. Thank you :) I’m thrilled you liked the story enough to read it five times—and it’s not even finished yet :-P

Cynergy –Squeal away, girlie! Truhan makes DBZ sex the hottest? I love it! As far as them moving quickly, I guess once they got started, they just couldn’t stop. I’m thinking for Gohan it had been quiiite awhile, if ya know what I mean… X’s and O’s right back at ya ;-)

The Angry Buddha—*Love* you! You are way too kind. But I agree there’s no better way to express the growing feelings than one-on-one boinking. I’m so happy you thought it was tasteful. I tried. I really, really tried :) Goten’s reaction? Stay tuned.

avril27—You’re so very welcome :) I appreciate your taking the time to comment.

chayron—Yup, the whole damn chapter. Well, I made you guys wait for a long time so that was the reward :-D Hope you enjoyed.

Camui—You’re so freakin’ funny. But yah, I think GO PORN pretty much sums it up ;-)

Macha—Hope it lived up to your supersmut standards ;-) What do I have in store for them now? Nothing good, I assure you! Ha. Just kidding, but you called it for what it was: a nice lemony break. Enjoy it while it lasts.

Nickles—Oh. My. God. I about fell off my chair laughing when I imagined you bitch smacking Gohan repeatedly across the face and screaming, “You’re killing me, Smalls!” Seriously, nearly died. But yes, deep breath. He did what you wanted him to do! It’s all ok *pets*. You are so much the anti-Goten :-P Boy, I wonder what you’ll think of this chapter. *turns on the fan and prepares to throw shit*

Moon—I seriously want to hug you. If you had a smile on your face after reading the last chapter, it could not compare to the beaming grin I had after reading your review. The whole reason I wrote this story was because I love the characters so much and wanted to live in their world a little longer after DBZ ended. I’m so happy if I could take you there with me and help you remember why you like them so much. Wow, so their get-together was just how you imagined it would be?? That’s awesome, cuz I was really feeling the pressure to get it just right. As far as Gohan’s thought processes, I’m nothing less than ecstatic that a huge Gohan fan like yourself is enjoying them so much. I love to write him because it’s so great to see the world through his eyes for a little while :-) Thank you a thousand times for your kind (and eloquent) words!

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“To lose all my senses, that is just so typically me.”
--Britney

Chapter 13

Trunks opened his eyes, still red-rimmed and blurry from sleep. Morning light poured into the room from the large glass door he was facing, the single gauzy curtain that hung in front of it doing little to block out the sun. But instead of rolling over and pulling the covers over his head to get away from it, Trunks smiled drowsily. He was glad to be awake for the first time in as long as he could remember.

Things were good. Things were really good. He didn’t know exactly why he felt so content, but he let his eyes droop closed again.

Ah, right.

Gohan.

A few pornographic images flickered on the backs of his eyelids. “Mmmm.” He rolled over to face his bedmate, but the other side of the bed was empty. He sat up.

“Morning.”

The other demi was standing near the foot of the bed. He had put his discarded boxer shorts back on and was carefully folding his wrinkled jeans. His expression was indecipherable but his dark eyes glowed like embers in the morning sun. Trunks lamented that the ebony irises were so difficult to read. The prince looked away, glancing towards the balcony and beyond at the tidy, tree-lined streets of the city below.

So this was what people called The Morning After.

“Were you going somewhere?” he asked, keeping his eyes trained on the trees.

“I thought I’d go and get us some breakfast.”

Gohan observed the teen as he turned to face him again, a suspicious look in his blue eyes. One corner of Gohan’s mouth curled into an understanding smile. “Did you think I was running out on your or something?” He had never known Trunks to be the paranoid type. But then again, he supposed the prince’s ego had taken a bit of a hit recently. He moved around to the side of the bed nearest the sliding door and sat down so he was eye-level with his roommate. The mattress shifted under his weight and he reached out to push Trunks’ short hair off his forehead. “I just didn’t want to wake you, that’s all.”

The touch, though innocuous, was warm and affectionate and the teen brought himself to meet his roommate’s gaze. Gohan leaned in to press his lips to Trunks’ temple. When he pulled back, he lingered near the teen’s cheek and Trunks pecked him lightly on the mouth.

The fireworks of the previous night came back to the front of the prince’s mind even at the chaste contact, and he was reluctant to let the other go. He kissed the dark-haired demi again, opening his lips more this time and keeping his tongue to himself only because he hadn’t had time to brush his teeth yet. “Well, since I’m awake anyway, what about having dessert first?”

Gohan chuckled and absently traced along Trunks’ clavicle with his fingers. “It’s tempting. But . . . I think maybe we should talk.” The teen groaned. Why did Gohan always have to think so much? Why couldn’t he just jump in head first like a normal person? “Over fresh cinnamon rolls?” The elder Son attempted a compromise. “I was thinking of hitting up that bakery on Seventh Ave. The one you like so much.”

“How’d you know I liked it?” Trunks tilted his head and Gohan shrugged bashfully.

“You mentioned it when we jogged past there the other day.”

The teen couldn’t hide a smile. “Oh, alright,” he relented, the Saiyan side of him convincing the human side that sugary breakfast pastries were almost as good as morning sex. “Get the kind with real icing, though. None of that drizzled honey stuff. And no nuts.”

“Your highness,” Gohan teased as he stood up.

Trunks stretched his arms out over his head. “Wake me when you get back, babe,” he yawned, settling into the pillows again. He was sure the round trip would take his roommate a good half hour and he planned on spending that time in dreamland. “Oh, and Gohan.” The older man stopped at the door and glanced back at the boy, whose muffled voice drifted from amidst the bedding. “Take a shower first. We don’t want you pulling a Videl on anyone.”

***

Twenty minutes later, a fresh and clean Gohan stood in line at the bakery, enjoying the smell of sweet bread as it came out of the ovens and pondering Trunks’ last words. Aside from being characteristically insensitive, they spoke volumes about the younger boy’s relationship habits. Gohan himself had awakened feeling more relaxed than he had in a long time, and with that touch of giddiness that always came with the promise of something exciting and new. In his eagerness to get breakfast for the two of them, housekeeping issues like showering had almost slipped his mind.

Not that he wanted to break the news to Vegeta or anyone else he might run into by pulling a Videl; not in a million years! Nonetheless, it surprised him that the still half asleep teenager had the foresight to take such precautions; as though they were second nature to him. Gohan realized that in his marriage, he had become rather lax about the whole issue, since no one minded if married people had sex. In fact, family members – human and Saiyan alike – heartily encouraged it, hoping to hear the pitter patter of little feet one day.

Trunks, on the other hand, must have gone to a considerable amount of trouble to hide whatever it was he’d been doing the last few years. After all, he had to have gotten all that experience from somewhere. Yet Gohan had never seen him with a significant other, either male or female. He didn’t know for sure what Trunks wanted from their tryst or where exactly they would go from here. But he did finally know what he wanted for himself, and it did not include secret rendezvous or hidden liaisons. He already felt that he’d lived a lie with Videl, being forced to downplay his feelings for her, and he hoped Trunks wouldn’t ask him to do the same thing.

If they were going to continue whatever it was they had, then he wanted it to be healthy, open, and honest, no matter the consequences. But Trunks would have to decide if he was ready for that or not, and Gohan didn’t want to let things go any further until the young prince made that call.

He was all too aware of what he hoped the teen’s answer would be, and he chuckled at the irony of it all. When had the other demi become such an integral part of his daily life? And, more importantly, when he had started to enjoy it?

“Excuse me.”

The last thing he remembered, he had wanted to strangle the Capsule heir and now . . . . Well, now he just kinda wanted to pin the prince underneath him and get him to moan his name again the way he had the night before. Suffice it to say Gohan had learned there was a very fine line between irritation and attraction.

“Excuse me!” The demi-Saiyan was roused from his thoughts by a finger poking painfully into the back of his shoulder. When he turned around, the old lady behind him shook her giant purse.

“You plannin’ on orderin’ sometime today, Sonny, or would you like to get out of our way?” She gestured to the line of irritated patrons behind her and Gohan realized he must have been daydreaming.

“No! I mean, uh, yes ma’am!” He turned back to the cashier who was waiting impatiently with two hands on her hips. “Sorry,” he apologized, while trying to pull off those puppy dog eyes the Saiyan prince used with so much success. The girl only crossed her arms and tapped the fingers of her right hand against her skin. Gohan sighed. “A dozen cinnamon rolls please.”

***

“Well, hello there, young Mr. Son. We haven’t seen you around here lately.”

“Yeah, I know.” The teen smiled at the conscientious doorman who greeted him as he entered his brother’s building.

“It’s good to see that you’re fully dressed this time.” The older gentleman smiled kindly at Goten and the boy’s cheeks reddened a bit.

“Mmhmm,” he agreed. The last time he’d been there was to borrow a pair of Gohan’s shoes and the doorman had been kind enough to let him into the apartment after Goten had begged him and assured him he had Gohan’s permission.

“I believe your brother’s gone out for some breakfast,” he informed the teen. “Offered to bring me back some coffee and donuts, too. A nice young man, that one.”

“Oh, yeah, Gohan’s the best.” Goten smiled proudly. His older brother had always been his hero and nothing made him happier than when other people recognized the strength of character he had always known Gohan to possess.

“Would you like to have a seat and wait for him to get back?” The older man gestured at the various couches and chairs that furnished the lobby. “Shouldn’t be too long.”

“Aw, you can’t let me in this time?” Goten frowned and the doorman made an apologetic face.

“I’m afraid Mr. Briefs’d have my head if I did that. Bit of a temper, that one.” Goten chuckled at the other’s apt observations, figuring he must learn a lot about the building’s occupants standing there in the lobby all day long. “Last time you were here, no one was home, remember? But I can’t make a habit of letting non-residents into the apartments.” He winked. “Why don’t I ring their rooms and see if I can get your friend for you?”

“Hmm . . .” Goten thought it over for a moment. He had been on his way home from campus when he decided to stop by Gohan’s apartment. He slept over in the dorms the night before, as Gohan had requested, and he thought now would be as good a time as any for that little heart-to-heart his brother wanted to have. Although, if he was honest with himself, he wouldn’t have been in nearly as big a hurry to have their chat if not for the distinct possibility that he would run into Trunks in the process. It might actually be good, he thought, that Gohan was out. It would give him a few minutes alone with Trunks. “Okay,” he agreed finally.

He watched the uniformed man dial the apartment twice then hang up. “I’m sorry, but I’m not getting anyone. I’ll bet your friend is still asleep. I rarely see him out this early on the weekends.”

“That’s true,” Goten agreed, scratching his chin. “You know what? I think I’ll just go see if I can find my brother.” He trotted towards the door that led to the street. “Thank you!”

“Bye now!” The older man waved.

But as Goten exited the building, he had no intention of looking look for Gohan. Instead, he rounded the corner and made his way to the back of the building. Making sure no one was nearby, he soundlessly levitated towards the top floor, careful to avoid flying past any windows as he headed for the fourteenth story balcony.

***

Trunks awoke with a start. He sat up instinctively, sucking in a loud breath of air as he did so. He glanced at the sliding door, the energy signal that had awakened him unmistakable. But what the hell was HE doing there? And why did the other teen’s very presence unnerve him so?

As Goten touched down on the balcony, his dark eyes met his old friend’s widened blue ones. It was obvious that he had surprised the prince and, as he recovered from the shock, his features settled into an unreadable expression. Goten immediately deflated under that cold cobalt gaze and tried to remind himself why he had come up here in the first place. Because he couldn’t go on without this person in his life. Because he wanted to fix things, no matter what it took.

Trunks turned away from Goten and reached down alongside the bed to retrieve his underwear. He slid the shorts on before getting up and approaching the door. That was how they found themselves staring through the glass at one another again; the younger boy edgy but finding strength in his purpose and the older one stoic and impassive. Goten’s mind wandered as he remembered the way Trunks used to look at him with so much feeling. He knew it was his own actions that had taken that light out of the other’s eyes. But he would fix it. He had to.

The prince slid the door open. “Goten.”

“Trunks.” The youngest Son couldn’t help but take a sweeping look at his friend. Really, he had almost forgotten so many little details about the other. Like the way he smelled and the timbre of his voice when he wasn’t angry, or the way his muscles moved under that lightly tanned skin when he breathed. Even the way Trunks spoke his name; accentuating each syllable evenly. No one else could make his name sound quite like that, and he realized he missed hearing it. He also realized he should probably explain his presence there on the balcony. “I tried to call up from the lobby but I guess you didn’t hear the phone.”

“Oh, yeah.” Trunks put a hand behind his head and scratched his scalp, seemingly at a loss for words. “I guess not.”

The air was crisp and Goten wrapped his arms around himself as a light breeze picked up. He was only wearing a long sleeved t-shirt and his skin pricked up with goose bumps. “Hey, do you mind if I—?”

Trunks raised one eyebrow. “Oh, so you want to come in this time?”

Goten realized that their reunion would not be as idyllic as he had hoped. But Trunks withdrew into the room, leaving the door open, and Goten took it as an invitation to follow. He stood there awkwardly, just inside, while Trunks walked to his closet and pulled a pair of black wind pants from a hanger. Goten surveyed the room while his friend dressed. It had been some time since he had been there and he hated the way Trunks’ room felt foreign to him now; the way he felt like he didn’t belong, even after they had shared rooms most of their lives. He was painfully aware of the fact that he had chosen to walk away from this and that he might not ever be invited back.

The younger teen’s eyes swept the bed and he blinked when he noticed the bottle of lubricant there, peeking out from under some carelessly tossed about sheets. Although the fresh air wafted in from the wide-open door behind him, he could now detect those other smells that had once been so familiar to him. The smell of sex; and not the way it smelled with Tiffany. The way it smelled with Trunks. A masculine scent. And it occurred to Goten suddenly that someone else may be there.

“Uh—I—,” he stammered, “am I interrupting—?” He didn’t finish the sentence, suddenly floundering at the thought that Trunks had another lover. Immediately, the younger boy chided himself for being so naive. Of course he would have found someone else. He was the campus’s most eligible bachelor, after all. How could Goten have been so stupid to think he’d stay single?

But if he thought about it, he had always expected the royal demi to date. He had even told Trunks when they broke up how many people wanted to be with him. The Capsule heir was the constant object of countless girls’ attention and Goten was sure that, with him out of the picture, Trunks would end up with one of them before too long. What he hadn’t foreseen was that Trunks would find another boy. Another boy to do the things that they used to do. That it wasn’t just a special secret thing that the two of them had shared.

The youngest Son didn’t have to wonder at the churning sensation in his stomach. He knew what jealousy felt like all too well. But this wasn’t the same kind he felt when people paid more attention to Trunks than him, or when Trunks got a Jag XKR for his birthday and Goten got a homemade cake. It was entirely different. He wondered who Trunks was seeing. What they had done to each other. How much Trunks had liked it and whether he panted and squirmed and gasped the other’s name.

The younger boy swallowed hard. That last one really made his stomach churn. “Is—is someone here?” he asked, trying not to let the feelings show. He knew what Trunks would say. That he had no right to be upset.

The other demi pulled a white t-shirt over his head. “Just us, I think.” He glanced over his shoulder at his friend. “Why?”

“Oh it’s just—I mean, it’s obvious that someone was here.” He couldn’t stop his eyes from darting towards the bed. “Recently.”

“Oh. Well, yeah,” he admitted, matter-of-factly. “Actually, Goten, I’ve been meaning to apologize to you.” He turned to face the youngest Son properly. “You know that I was angry when you said we should take a break. But I’ve finally realized that you were completely right. Seeing what else was out there is the best thing I ever did.”

“Oh.” The younger boy blinked. “Really?”

“Yeah. So I’m really sorry for the way I acted towards you. Taking those shoes back and all. It was childish and I apologize.”

Goten pushed his long bangs off his forehead, not sure what to make of the apology. It sounded scripted and Trunks’ face was like a mask. He suddenly wished the prince would look at him with any kind of emotion at all. Anything but that detached indifference that he passed off on everyone else. It made Goten feel like a stranger on the street. But he supposed that’s exactly what he was now. He suddenly felt that he shouldn’t be in Trunks’ bedroom. It wasn’t his domain anymore and although Trunks had allowed him to come inside, he might as well have slammed the door in Goten’s face. “It’s okay,” he muttered. “I think I’ll just wait in the living room for Gohan to get home.”

He quickly rounded the bed and stepped into the hallway, closing the door behind him and feeling numb. He wondered if this was how Trunks felt when he had left. The thought made his heart ache. It ached for Trunks and for himself; for the loss of their innocence; and for the fact that everything between them had changed. It ached for the undeniable truth that their relationship could never be as it once was, no matter what the future held for them.

The youngest Son made his way down the hall towards the apartment’s common area. As he entered the dining room, his gloomy thoughts were interrupted when he noticed Trunks’ jeans in a pile near the table. He recognized them because they were the same Seven jeans he had borrowed the last night that they went out together. And the tell-tale accordion shape they took on the ground indicated that they had been dropped to the floor and stepped out of; as opposed to, say, falling out of his laundry basket on the way to the machine.

Oh god, Goten thought, he did it right there in the dining room? The youngest boy vaguely wondered where his brother had been when that happened. But as he walked further into the room, he noticed Gohan’s Satan City College t-shirt on the floor not far away. Goten rounded the table and picked it up, staring at it as if it could somehow explain to him what was going on. Confused and disturbed, he tossed the shirt onto the back of the nearest chair and went to flop down on the sofa. But in the latest scene in this parade of horribles, he saw a pair of Trunks’ white cotton briefs abandoned on the floor near the suede recliner.

Apparently the lovers had screwed their way across the entirety of the main room! When Goten had been with Trunks, they had been obsessively secretive, locking themselves in their bedrooms even when the house was empty, just in case. So how had Trunks been so audacious as to strip down with someone right there in the living room? And to leave his clothes scattered all over! Surely Gohan had seen them when he left to get breakfast. And why were Gohan’s clothes mixed . . . in with . . . his . . . ?

No, Goten thought, shaking his head as he silently mouthed the word. No, it couldn’t be! Could it? Not Trunks and . . . .

His mouth dropped open as he surveyed the scene and the unthinkable but inevitable conclusion entered his mind. He took a few shaky steps backwards before turning and racing back down the hall to his old friend’s bedroom. He threw open the door without knocking just as the demi-Saiyan prince was coming out of his attached bathroom.

Goten’s frantic brown eyes met the other’s and Trunks recognized the look in them before Goten could even speak the words. “Who was it, Trunks?” the younger boy gestured towards the bed. “Who is he?”

He approached the prince and pushed him into the wall. His eyes were already beginning to prick with unshed tears as Trunks stared back at him, his lack of any appreciable reaction confirming Goten’s suspicions. “Don’t lie to me, Trunks,” he warned in a desperate whisper. “Was it him?”

“Who?”

“You know who!” Goten yelled, pushing himself off the other teen with an angry grimace. He stood back a few inches. “Gohan?”

The prince continued to look him in the eyes but still refused to speak. He didn’t have to. Goten already knew that it was true. He had no idea how it had happened – in what crazy, messed up world it was even possible – but he knew that it was true. “How could you?” he demanded, and both heard the sound of the front door opening then closing and several boxes of pastries being deposited on the dining room table.

The dining room table, Goten thought. Where Trunks had fucked his brother.

The true depth of the betrayal was crashing down upon him. “How could you?” he shouted, now shaking the other teen by the shoulders. “How could you do that, Trunks!?”

“I can do what I want!” The prince finally pushed the smaller boy off of him, his lavender brows narrowed defensively. “Besides, where has your dick been these past few weeks?”

“It’s not the same!” Goten cried.

Gohan was in the doorway to the bedroom in a flash, still wearing his brown leather jacket and holding a set of keys. “Goten?” His tone was questioning as he took in the scene. The two boys were glaring at each other and it was the sound of their voices arguing that had drawn him to the room in the first place. “What’s going on?”

The smaller Son turned his face to his brother. “You and Trunks?” His tone was accusing and his eyes begged Gohan for any answer other than the one he knew he would get. Gohan’s eyes widened momentarily. He hadn’t been expecting to be confronted so directly, but a quick look around the room made it clear what had happened. The sliding glass door was still open and the doorman had told Gohan that his brother came around looking for him. Obviously, Goten had tried the balcony entrance when the front lobby approach didn’t work. He must have come into the room and pieced together the clues from there. Gohan hadn’t really known what to expect from his brother’s reaction, but he hardly expected such unconcealed disdain. It was not like Goten to be so hostile, though Gohan figured it must have come as a particular shock for him, considering all that he had been going through lately.

“Look, Goten, I know it’s probably a little strange for you.” His tone was soft and conciliatory. “I wish you hadn’t found out this way, but it’s true that Trunks and I have gotten very close in the time we’ve lived together. And I want you to know that I care about him very much. I’m sure it’ll take some getting used to, but having your blessing would mean everything to me.”

Goten wanted to cover his ears with his hands. He did NOT want to know how close they had gotten! Thanks to their clothes scattered all over the living room he already knew way too much. And now Gohan wanted his blessing? How could he possibly ask that?

“Gohan!” The disbelief that was evident in his voice made it sound like he was whining as he threw his arms out to the sides. “Would you jump into my grave as fast?”

The older demi was at a loss. “Whaddaya mean, Goten? I hope you know that I don’t mean to take your place in Trunks’ life. I could never do that.” He put one hand over his heart. “Nothing would make me happier than for the two of you to be best friends again.”

“Best friends!?” Goten’s voice rose. He realized how hypocritical he would sound repeating Trunks’ words from weeks ago but he couldn’t stop himself. “Gohan, don’t you think we were a little bit more than that?” The elder Son was silent as he waited for his brother to explain. But suddenly Goten became shy. He lowered his voice. “You know,” he said, gesturing furtively. “You saw what happened on the balcony.”

“Yeah,” Gohan affirmed, “I saw Trunks kiss you and you pushed him away. I know he had feelings for you then and that you didn’t return them. And believe me, at the time, neither one of us knew we had any feelings for each other. It’s just something that’s happened since then that I can’t really expla—.”

“THAT’S what you think happened on the balcony?” Trunks cut him off, speaking up finally. He looked incredulous as Gohan’s searching eyes met his own. The oldest demi looked confused and somewhat panicky. Trunks recognized it as that look a person gets when they know that something is terribly wrong, but they don’t yet know what it is. The teen blinked and lowered his eyes, looking at the floor as the disturbing thought occurred to him.

Gohan didn’t know about him and Goten. He didn’t know.

After a moment, he brought himself to look up at the other man hesitantly, suddenly fearing his reaction. “Uh, that’s not exactly the extent of it, Gohan.”

“Yeah! That’s not the extent of it!” Goten piped in, sniffling.

“Would someone please clue me in right now?” the elder Son cried. “No more cryptic hinting! What the hell is going on with you guys?”

The two boys locked eyes for a second, neither wanting to be the one to explain. Then Trunks took a deep breath. “Well,” he began by pointing an accusing finger at Goten. “He left me that night for that stupid girl!”

“Left you?” Gohan repeated, seemingly to himself.

“You know that I just needed some time to figure things out!” Goten yelled back at Trunks, balling his hands into fists at his sides.

“Quiet, quiet,” Gohan demanded as he glanced from one boy to the other. “You two were . . . together before that night?”

The prince shrugged. “Not according to Goten,” he said dismissively. “We were just ‘best friends who occasionally slept together’.” He made quotations with his fingers in the air.

“For—for how long?” Gohan managed and his brother considered it mutely. “Goten, how long?”

“I dunno.”

“You idiot,” Trunks admonished him. “We’ve been fooling around since we were like ten. Or have you blocked that out of your memory, too, just like everything else we’ve been through together?”

“Don’t call me an idiot!”

“Shut up, both of you!” Gohan’s voice got louder as he put two hands to his head, trying to block out the sounds of their fighting. “Just when—when were you planning on telling me about this, Trunks?” he spat between clenched teeth.

The prince was caught off guard by the way his roommate suddenly turned on him. He stuttered, “I—I thought you knew.”

Gohan turned up his palms in frustration. “How would I possibly—.” But his voice trailed off. Trunks had tried to tell him. After he’d seen the boys on the balcony, Trunks had offered to answer his questions, but he had assumed he knew all there was to know. When he’d asked Trunks who he was with that night after the bar, the teen had even told him it was Goten, but Gohan had blinded himself to it. Certain things were starting to fall into place now and he didn’t like the picture it was painting. All of Trunks’ experience. The way he had everything they had needed in his bedside drawer. The outlandish way the boys had been acting in the last few weeks.

They were lifelong lovers, and Gohan couldn’t quite believe he had been such an idiot. Of course, he should have known that if Trunks wanted his brother, he would have him. Even Gohan hadn’t been able to refuse Trunks, and Goten was his constant and adoring companion.

‘You don’t know anything about anything, Gohan.’

The prince’s words rang in his head and Gohan faltered, leaning one arm against the wall to support himself. “How could you think I’d ever, EVER do what we did if I knew?” He felt bad about how crossly the words came out, but really, what had Trunks been thinking?

The prince’s eyes widened. “I—I don’t know—.”

The elder Son turned to his brother then. “Why didn’t you ever tell me, little bro?” His voice was pained and Goten only shrugged, eyes trained on the hardwood. For the millionth time in the last few weeks, Gohan regretted not having stayed closer to him after he moved out. Here Goten had been keeping this secret all these years, probably believing he was doing something wrong. And now . . . . Oh, god, now . . . .

“I’ll tell you why,” Trunks offered angrily, his voice growing louder as weeks of pent up misery bubbled to the surface. “Because it was all well and good when we were kids but he couldn’t deal once shit got real.” Although the words were supposed to be aimed at Gohan, he stared at Goten while he spoke them, his eyes finally shining with emotion.

“It was complicated.” Goten pouted angrily.

“It wasn’t complicated for me.” Trunks retorted bitterly.

“But we’re different!”

“Yeah, we are different. Because I know who I am, and you just want to be somebody else.” He crossed his arms over his chest angrily. “You’re such a fucking closet case, Goten.”

The younger boy turned and pushed him hard. “You’re so mean, Trunks!” The statement didn’t even begin to express his resentment. And when the prince just rolled his eyes in response, Goten turned away from him in frustration. He couldn’t match Trunks in verbal sparring so he just tried to ignore him and focused on driving away the unwelcome mental images that were burning themselves into his brain.

Trunks and his brother.

His brother and Trunks.

It just didn’t make sense. “I don’t understand how this could have happened,” he mourned quietly.

“Well, you see, Goten, when two boys like each other very much, one boy takes his cock and shoves it—.”

“Trunks!” Gohan cut him off furiously, coming to his brother’s aid. It was painful to see how easy it was for the older boy to devastate him.

“I know how that works! You taught me all about it.” Goten turned to face the prince again. “I was stupid enough to fall for things like ‘haven’t you ever thought about what it’d be like to touch each other?’ and ‘I’m your friend, I care about you, so why don’t we fuck?’” he imitated his friend’s voice scornfully. “But you must have put on one hell of a show to win Gohan over.”

“Shut up, Goten,” the prince warned dangerously.

“I can’t even imagine what you must have said to him; what you must have done to convince him—.”

“Shut up, shut up, shut UP!” the prince roared, the air around him crackling with energy.

“But what I really wanna know,” the younger boy continued in spite of the other’s warnings, “is why him? Why him, Trunks? A thousand people a day fall at your feet and you picked the one person you knew would hurt me. You could’ve had anyone you wanted and you picked him.” There was only one conclusion he could come to that made any sense. “You did this on purpose.”

“The last time I checked, I don’t have to ask your permission. We’re not together. We never were, according to you. Do you remember that? Your words, not mine. YOU left ME! Remember THAT?”

“Yes,” Goten admitted quietly. “And you got the ultimate revenge, didn’t you?”

Gohan suddenly felt sick. “Oh, my god.” He put a hand to his mouth. Trunks wouldn’t. He wouldn’t go this far. Would he? He couldn’t. Could he? Had Gohan let himself be used in a vengeful plan to hurt his own little brother?

The prince glanced at the other Son and could see the color draining from his already pale complexion. “No, Gohan, that’s not true!” His hand shot out in a “stop” gesture, as if he could somehow stop the other man from believing it, but Gohan backed away from him, stumbling into the hallway. He couldn’t listen to any more; nor could he see any reason to stay. For too long now he had been in the middle of their fight: first as a referee and now, it seemed, as a pawn. It was a fight that seemed to have been brewing for ten years, and he would leave them to finish it without him.

He put two fingers to his forehead and by the time Trunks ran into the hallway shouting his name he was already gone.

The prince turned back to the youngest boy. “Why do you insist on ruining my life?” he screamed. “First you leave and now you drive him away too! I guess breaking my heart once wasn’t enough for you.”

Goten wiped the tears that had sprung to his eyes on his shirt sleeve. “I’d like to break a lot more than that, you jerk.”

Maybe he couldn’t match Trunks verbally, but with the righteous anger that was coursing through his body on behalf of both himself and his brother, he felt sure he could beat him physically. The two boys stared each other down, jaws set, eyes narrowed. Goten’s energy level had spiked to match his old friend’s and the ever-growing field of static electricity between them was becoming downright dangerous.

“Fine,” Trunks hissed. “You and me—.”

“The rematch.” Goten finished his thought.

“The old field. Now.” Both boys spoke in unison and each was on the balcony before he saw the other move. They took off side by side at breakneck speed determined to settle it once and for all.

***

Goku looked up at his wife who was standing over the stove with her back to him. She clearly had not felt their son’s energy spike. The pureblood focused on the signal and felt Trunks there, too. But he didn’t think this was another one of their attempts to go blond just for fun. The energy was dark; darker than he thought either of those two were capable of. And they were flying towards the countryside incredibly fast. Goku concluded that whatever it meant, it couldn’t be anything good.

He hated to leave without his meal, and he could smell that it would be done in a few more mouthwatering minutes. But he hated to miss a fight even more. “Chichi,” he said standing up, “I’m sorry but I have to go. It’s Goten. I think he needs me.” He knew that she wouldn’t argue with him once she heard their son’s name.

She turned around to see him put two fingers to his forehead. “Goku, you be careful!” she yelled, but the room was empty.

***

Vegeta was sitting in an armchair staring at the wall when Goku appeared next to him. “So you felt it, too?”

Goku nodded. “You coming with me?” Their sons’ energies seemed to have stopped moving now.

Vegeta stood up. He snorted as he turned to face Kakarott. He hated when they had to use Instant Transmission and he felt completely emasculated as he was forced to place his hand on the other Saiyan’s shoulder. But he did have one consolation.

“To watch my son kick your son’s ass? I wouldn’t miss it.”

***

The two purebloods appeared on the grassy plain shortly after their boys. Goten and Trunks were facing each other some distance away. They were no longer Super Saiyans but their power levels remained high. Although the day was still, their hair and clothes billowed in an unseen wind. Goku wasn’t even sure they were aware of his and Vegeta’s presence until his son spoke up.

“Oh, Dad, I’m so glad you’re here.” He didn’t cease to stare down the other demi. “You’ll never guess what Trunks did. Or should I say ‘who’?”

Goten only saw a flash of sapphire eyes in his face before he felt the fist connect with his jaw. His head snapped to the side.

“Clamp it, Goten.”

The younger boy held his cheek for a moment. Then he slammed a charged up palm into the other’s chest and Trunks was halfway across the field before he knew the energy blast had hit him. He stood up, dusted himself off and lunged toward Goten at the same time Goten lunged at him. They met in the middle with a loud crash.

“What do you suppose they’re fighting about Vegeta?” Goku asked as he watched, scratching the back of his head. He turned to face his old rival. “Hey, you know, they kinda remind me of us out there, the way they’re going at it!”

“Really, Kakarott?” Vegeta made it sound more like a statement than a question as he turned to the other pureblood. “Because if I didn’t know better, I’d say they were in love.” An amused smirk graced the prince’s features when Goku’s eyes went wide. “I can’t think of any other reason for two people who are normally friends to want to tear each other apart so badly.”

Goku shifted. “So . . . then, uh . . . why do we fight, Vegeta?”

The prince of Saiyans gasped, caught off guard by the other’s unexpectedly astute comparison. “Because you’re a clown!” he yelled before recovering his composure. But despite his answer, Goku took a pronounced step to the left, away from him. “Oh, please,” Vegeta growled. “You can calm down Kakarott. If I was in love with you I’d have thrown you down and taken what I wanted long ago.”

“Ah haha hahaha,” Goku laughed nervously. “Vegeta, you’re such a trip.” But they both turned back to the action when the ground shook with impact. Goten had hit the dirt on his back with a loud thud and Trunks hovered over him, twenty feet in the air.

“You can’t beat me, Goten. Just give it up before you get hurt.” He had always been stronger thanks to his one-year advantage and now he was learning his recent training sessions with Vegeta had paid off. He was faster, more powerful, and a better strategist than Goten, and the dark-haired demi had waged a battle he couldn’t win. “Here’s one my dad taught me, courtesy of my future self.” Trunks’ hands moved quickly as Goten tried to stand up, then he put both palms out in front of him. “Burning attack!”

The younger Son crossed his forearms over his head just in time to block. He volleyed the blast back towards his opponent but Trunks disappeared before it hit him. A split second later, he materialized over his kneeling friend. “My father says that Mirai Trunks’ world is a waking nightmare. But I think he’s lucky. Cuz at least where he comes from, you were never born.”

Goten pushed himself to his feet and smashed into his friend with roar of renewed anger. The prince flew backwards and they slammed against the jagged face of a nearby cliff. The younger boy pressed a forearm to his throat, pinning Trunks between himself and the rock wall.

“How can you say something like that?” he demanded. “I was never born there because my dad died, along with everyone else we know!”

“What do you care?” He clawed at Goten’s arm. “You hate him anyway.”

“And that’s why you went after Gohan, isn’t it? Because you knew that he was like a brother and a father to me, and you wouldn’t be happy until you took away everything.” The prince didn’t respond to the accusations. He only stared back at Goten with darkened eyes. His hands were still clamped on Goten’s arm, but he had stopped struggling. The younger boy relieved the pressure on his neck, resting both hands on the front of Trunks’ shoulders. He still held the teen against the rock, but he was too emotionally exhausted to continue the fight. Goten dropped his head between his outstretched arms and stared at the ground. “But you fucked up,” he whispered, shaking his head as he seemed to fight with himself internally. “Because blood is thicker than water, Trunks. I’ll always love my brother.” He lifted his gaze. “You’re the expendable one here.”

Goten saw the smallest flicker of pain on his old friend’s face before it became exanimate again. “Expendable. Wow. Is that your vocabulary word for the week?”

“Fuck you.”

“I just have one question. How did you forget about me so easily, Goten? After everything we shared, to just drop me like a bad habit. I guess you did learn something from your father, after all.” Trunks hadn’t realized just how many feelings he had been suppressing, or how much anger he’d been holding onto, until it came pouring forth like venom into helpless prey. “You seem to like to blame all of your problems on me, Goten. But it’s not my fault if you don’t like what you see when you look in the mirror. It’s not my fault if, despite your best efforts, you grew up to be just like Goku.”

The younger boy’s eyes flashed with hurt and then they flashed teal. He jerked his knee up between them and Trunks felt it connect with his injured ribcage in a blinding rush of pain. He had only just begun to heal from his brutal training the day before and a searing heat ripped through him as the still-broken bones skewered internal organs.

His instinct was to cry out, but he found that he couldn’t make any noise. Instead he choked on the sound and blood spattered on the pale face of his opponent. He collapsed onto Goten then, falling forward, and heard the other boy’s whisper close to his ear.

“I didn’t forget about you, Trunks. I thought about you every single stupid fucking day.”

The prince emitted a gurgling sound and Goten felt the warmth of Trunks’ blood on his neck. Then he heard his old friend gulp in air before Goku pulled the two of them apart.

“What in the world’s gotten into you, Goten!?” he shouted, holding Trunks up under the arms. Then he turned to the demi-Saiyan he held onto. “Gee, Trunks, are you alright?”

“He’ll be fine, Kakarott. Tend to your boy.” The Saiyan prince appeared alongside his son and slid his arm around the teen’s back, then hooked Trunks’ left arm over his neck.

Goku looked at the other pureblood. He nodded and let go of the royal demi then approached the boy who looked like a younger version of himself. Grasping Goten’s chin with his hand, he turned the teen’s face to the side, examining his bloodstained skin. “C’mon son,” he said sternly, after confirming that he was uninjured. “We’re going home.”

Goten didn’t protest as Goku put a hand on his shoulder and two fingers to his own forehead. A second later, they were gone.

A short-lived silence settled over the valley.

“Really, Trunks, both of them?”

A moment ago, the demi-Saiyan hadn’t thought it was possible to be any more miserable, but he should have known better. Now, not only did both of his lifelong friends hate him, but Vegeta had apparently picked up on the whole sordid business. Had he not cleaned himself off well enough? Had his father heard him arguing with Goten? Trunks spit another mouthful of blood onto the ground and didn’t dare to look the royal Saiyan in the face.

“I know the oldest son of Kakarott is strong, but you’re far superior to the youngest one. Still you fall to both of them. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you had thrown this fight. I hope you had a good reason, boy.”

The pureblood’s tone indicated that the conversation was over and he wouldn’t ask the teen any more questions. Trunks breathed a labored sigh of relief. It was true he had succumbed to both of his latest adversaries. He was just thankful that his father didn’t know it was the case in more ways than one. As he turned to face his father, he wanted to say ‘thank you’ but didn’t trust himself to speak. He feared he would end up confessing everything or, worse yet, start to cry.

Vegeta grunted in a way that sounded almost like understanding. Then he bent down to hook his other arm around Trunks’ legs, scooping the boy up in his arms. Blue eyes widened in surprise and Trunks struggled pathetically against the embrace. “Father, I—I can walk!” He noticed that he had already stained the older Saiyan’s clean blue spandex with some of his own blood and he couldn’t help but think it was a metaphor for his pitiable existence; as though his father would be somehow tainted just by being near him.

“Don’t be a stubborn idiot, Trunks.”

It was the pot calling the kettle black, but it was his father’s way of saying ‘let me help you.’ And the teen had little choice but to accept as the world around him began fading to black. He was quite sure he deserved the pain that Goten had inflicted, but his body couldn’t handle any more and consciousness was beginning to slip away.

“I’m sorry, Dad.”

His amethyst head fell heavily against the oldest Saiyan and Vegeta pressed it to his chest as he took to the sky.