Love, A Game..

Chapter 6

Trunks yawned and stretched, blinking his eyes to clear them, and wondered vaguely why he felt so incredibly comfortable. He felt like he was in some kind of cocoon, enveloping him in warmth and security. His question was answered as a small form stirred beside him and memory returned.

"Gohan..."

The blonde eleven-year-old opened his eyes in response, the sea-green orbs meeting Trunks' own and softening with adoration. "Good morning, Trunks," he said cheerfully, and kissed his cheek. The teenager couldn't suppress a delighted smile - Gohan was so cute, so adorable, that he had trouble believing his own luck in having the little demi-Saiyan return his feelings.

"How're you feeling?" Trunks asked gently. A smile and another kiss, this one to his mouth, answered him and the two played tonsil hockey for several minutes before Gohan closed his mouth and pulled away.

"I feel hungry," he admitted sheepishly. As Trunks chuckled, the younger boy threw off the covers and jumped out of bed. "C'mon, let's have breakfast, he urged, grabbing Trunks' hand and dragging him to the door.

The purple-haired teen grinned and pulled Gohan into a hug, kissing the top of his head. "Don't you want to get dressed first?" he drawled.

Gohan blinked, only just realising that the two of them were still naked after last night. Even in the dusky pre-dawn light Trunks' nudity was clearly visible, as he guessed his own must be, and the blonde half-Saiyan licked his lips. "Nope, I think you're okay just like you are," he said cheekily.

"Trust me," said Trunks, laughing, "I'm more than happy with the outfit you've got on right now, but I think we'll have to put on something a little more ... um..."

"Dignified?" suggested Gohan. "Formal? Classy?"

"Something like that," agreed his crush.

"Okay!" Gohan wriggled out of Trunks' grasp and bounced across to the place where his boxer shorts had been the last time he checked. They weren't there. Nor were they under the bed, behind it, on his side of the room, in his backpack, in the drawer, in the bathroom, or anywhere else in the room. "Uh-oh," he said.

Trunks, already clad in his own nightshirt and boxers, went over to him and absently put his arm around the smaller boy's shoulders. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"I can't find my boxers," Gohan pouted, but for some reason as he burrowed into Trunks' chest it didn't seem quite as much of a loss. He wrapped his arms around the teen's waist and started planting chaste kisses onto the soft bare skin revealed by the unbuttoned nightshirt.

"You're so cute," muttered Trunks. Gohan could sense his crush's smile and began engaging his tongue, flicking it over the suddenly hard nipples. The other part-human's breathing started to quicken. A hand slid down and lightly pinched Gohan's backside, causing him to give a muffled squeal and squirm slightly.

Reluctantly the young Super Saiyan pushed Trunks away as his stomach politely informed him of its depressingly empty state.

"Geez, Gohan, that rumble could've woken the Eternal Dragon," remarked Trunks, impressed.

"Thanks," he replied proudly. His attention shifted almost immediately and he complained, more to himself than to anyone else, "What am I going to wear?"

Smiling, Trunks took off his nightshirt and handed it to Gohan. "Here," he offered, "it's not quite enough to train in but it'll do for breakfast." So it did, for when the eleven-year-old Saiyan buttoned it up it came down almost to his knees.

"Cool, thanks Trunks!" he said happily. Then he looked at the older boy's bare chest and pointed, giggling. "How're you going to explain those?"

"What?" Trunks looked down at himself and realising that his torso now displayed half a dozen obvious hickies. "Oops..." he grinned. "Well, I guess we can tell Dende and Mr Popo they're bruises from sparring - I think Dende's a little young to understand." He glanced at Gohan, but the younger half-Saiyan didn't object to his least favourite phrase now that it wasn't directed at him. Trunks continued, "But I think we should tell our dads the truth."

A little apprehensively, Gohan nodded agreement. "All right, but just them. It's not that I'm ashamed or anything," he said hastily, "it's just that my mum - well, my mum doesn't like anything that distracts me from my studies." Identical cheeky grins appeared on both boys' faces. The matter settled, Gohan took Trunks' arm again and let him forcibly from the room, saying cheerfully, "Come on, I want to eat." The teenage Super Saiyan followed meekly.

***

"Wow, Gohan, you're really tough," said Trunks admiringly. "Don't tell my father, but I think you might be even stronger than he is!"

A pleased smile crossed the eleven-year-old's face as he and Trunks traded kicks and punches. "You think so?" he asked. He aimed a small ki blast at his partner that was only just dodged.

"Sure," replied Trunks confidently. He barely had enough breath to speak as Gohan attacked.

The younger demi-Saiyan flashed him a quick grin before concentrating on their spar. The two of them had been at it since right after breakfast, their almost-even power levels making it a hard workout for both of them. So far neither had had any definitive advantage, and if nothing changed soon they were likely to keep sparring until at least lunchtime. Without a clear winner the match could go on for hours.

But before their fight could wind up of its own accord, both boys sensed something that made them stop short. Two enormous power levels had appeared as suddenly as flicking a switch - powers that dwarfed Trunks' and Gohan's like a fly compared to a whale. "I guess our dads are out of the Hyperbolic Time Chamber," said Trunks.

"Daddy!" exclaimed Gohan happily, and sprinted off to meet Goku. Trunks tagged along behind him, nervous as to what the two pureblood Saiyans would think of their relationship, in particular what Vegeta's reaction would be. The teenaged demi-Saiyan had a somewhat tenuous relationship with his father that alternated between simple contempt and something bordering on respect. At one stage Vegeta had actually come close to accepting Trunks as his son, but things had changed since then and he wasn't sure where he stood in his father's opinion anymore. In all honesty, he was worried about how the prince would respond to the news that his son had fallen for the spawn of his archrival, along with the fact that the spawn in question was only eleven years old.

At that moment Trunks was attacked by a small purple-clad form that latched onto his hand and spun him around in a circle before pouncing, leaping into his arms, wrapping both legs around his waist and cupping his face in its hands.

"Don't worry, Trunks," said Gohan confidently, "they'll be fine. We're Saiyans, we don't have to concern ourselves with what weakling humans thing." Trunks was grinning as Gohan's voice became louder and more exuberant, accompanied by grand, sweeping arm motions. "They can't force us to obey their Earthling rules, ~we're~ Saiyans and we can do whatever we want! We're free to make out own decisions, regardless of whether we're both guys, or how old we are, or anything! Love is far too powerful to be constrained by such pointless ... um, constraints. So there!" He folded his arms across his chest and nodded importantly.

"Gohan, I couldn't agree more," said Trunks. The younger boy gave him a charming grin and kissed him full on the mouth, small tongue battling playfully with his.

The sound of someone clearing their throat made them both turn to face the source of the noise.

"Hi, Dad," said Gohan, a little nervously.

"Hello, Father," added Trunks weakly, seeing the murderous expression on Vegeta's face. He swallowed hard.

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Now what?