Title: "Busted".
Author: Nemesi.
Fandom: DBZ.
Genre: Romance. Humor.
Word Count: 1618 (this chapter)
Characters/Pairing: TruTen.
Rating: R
Disclaimer: DBZ, its characters, places and themes belong to Akira Toriyama, Bird Studio, Shueisha, FUNimation, etc.. No copyright infringement is intended.
Warnings: Foul-mouthed Goten saying swearing/dirty words. Slash. Sexual innuendo and situations.
A/N: Fits into the same universe as "Homeward Bound", but it's not necessary to read that one to get this. :)
Summary: Trunks is away for Christmas. Goten feels lonely enough to go and do… something he's not sure he should have done. Chaos ensues.
Ki: a person's inner energy, used in fighting to form explosive balls or beams.
Gi: garment usually worn by martial artists for training.
Chibi: it translates roughly into "Little One".
Ouji: "Prince". In this fic, it refers solely to Vegeta.
IT: stands for Instant Transmission. Goku's technique which allows him to instantly zap from one place to another.
Kami-sama: God.
Vegetasei: The Saiyajin's home planet.
≈¤≈
≈¤≈ Goten's POV ≈¤≈
I know this is gonna sound all wrong, but… getting into bed without Trunks sucks. Royally.
Now, get your head out of the gutter. Trunks and I never do anything other than sleep, once we get under the sheets (and not due to a lack of trying on his part, mind you). We kinda promised not to get too far too soon, and by some miracle or another we're sticking to that.
What I meant to say is that Trunks is out of town, and I miss curling at his side in the dark, laying either chest to chest or with him spooning behind me. I miss touching and kissing and laughing and doing other things with him I shouldn't really mention, if I want to keep the rating for kiddies. I miss our pitch-dark bantering sessions, that last until either Trunks kisses me into silence, or Vegeta gets pissed enough with the racket to flare his ki.
Then there's this bad, bad habit Trunks has picked up, of stalking me while I get changed for bed. He trails after me across Capsule Corp., tickles me, tackles me, ducks inside the bathroom before I can lock the door, touches and teases and generally assaults me until I change ten shades of red and finally proceed to throw him across the room. Well, believe it or not, I'm so far gone that I'm missin' even that part of our daily routine. Hell, I'm so far gone that last night I frittered away Trunk's bubble bath and shampoo, and not even his conditioner got spared. And what for? Only to smell them on me, and think for a moment that he was back.
Being. Apart. From. Trunks. Sucks.
Royally.
I can't stand the separation. And it's not like we aren't used to being apart, either: Trunks keeps hours you wouldn't believe! He's climbing the ladder at Capsule Corp, which virtually strands him in the office 15 hours out of 24. When I get to see him, 99 percent of the times it's already dark. In fact, we'd been looking forward to Christmas break to have some — you know — "daylight" time together to do the things boyfriends normally do. Think simple – small trips, an ice-cream in the park, a Dragon Balls hunt; going out to see a movie on a Saturday afternoon, or renting something to watch while cuddling on the couch. The usual. But noooooo, they just had to go and send Trunks I dunno where, for a string of conferences on I dunno what, scheduling his return for "sometime before Christmas Eve".
He's been away six friggin' weeks already, and here I lay, twisting and turning in bed, so tangled up in the sheets I must look every bit like a Spring Roll. Alternating between plumping the pillows and throwing them away, prey of all the lovesickness symptoms listed in those pink-covered novels mom hides in her closet, and missing him like crazy. I swear, it's just like Trunks and I have got this invisible umbilical cord between us, which allows me to feel him always, but also incapacitates me to function properly whenever he's not around.
Have I said it already, that this whole forced separation-thing sucks royally? No? Well, I'll say it now. It sucks. Royally.
I'm not wasting away, starving myself or anything; truly, I'm not. Mostly I tend to drift to zombie-land every now and then, but nothing major. I've had no hysterical breakdowns so far, no sudden violent urges, and only… one… single… itsybitsy, tiny, oh-so-very-brief plunge into insanity.
I trail my hand below my belly, and mentally cringe when my fingers meet the result of my sanity-lapse. I've done something reckless, I'll give you that. But don't I always? Recklessness is a Son genetic trait — Dad's reckless, Gohan (when pissed) is reckless, and let's not start about Grandpa Bardock! He was the king of recklessness, and I really can't go against what my DNA dictates.
Plus, I was feeling incredibly confident at the time. I trusted that Trunks would be happy with my idea, and I just went along with it. But my confidence bout didn't last long. Six weeks are a damn long time, to go and revaluate your actions. And now I've got my feelings into one huge tangle. Half of me says that this is what Trunks wanted, what he's always wanted, and that he's gonna be happy with it. But the other half is just as sure that Trunks will get angry, and nags about my idiocy until I remind myself that Trunks will like this…
Can you see the pattern? I worry, then reassure myself, then worry again, then reassure myself once more, then get worried all over again and so on. I've been doing this no-stop since he left. No wonder I'm insomniac.
Truth is: I know Trunks. I know him well enough to tell he'll be both extremely pissed and extremely pleased with me. At the same time, yeah. He's weird like that.
Question is, will his anger outclass any positive feeling he might have about this? Will he throw a fit? If things get that bad, I've got my trump card. I'll just say that I was high on two dozen boxes of chocolate truffles when I did it, and he'll forgive me.
…fat chance of that working, uh? Thought so.
Still, I've got hopes. I mean, he's such a great guy, you know? A little on the spoiled side, but always true to his heart. He's not very social, or talkative, and sometimes he's so arrogant and damn self-centred he'll make you feel like the scum of the earth but… he can be so nice, when he wants to. He knows how to be understanding and tender; and he's also loyal, not to mention fiercely protective of his loved ones.
…which brings me back to square one. Jeez, it's exactly because he's so protective, that he might flip if he sees what I've done to myself!
'cause, you see, he always worries about me. Worries that I don't eat or sleep enough, that I won't study for an exam; that I might be kidnapped and brought to a foreign Prince's harem, or beaten into a pulp by some random alien-guy wanting to conquer the Earth. Now that you know this, do you think that his motherhen-ness will skyrocket, if I confess? That he'll go flying off the handle in a princely tantrum?
Yeah, I know. Believe me, I know.
It's so… odd. So fierce. Making sure I'm always safe and sound is almost a physical need for Trunks, as vital as breathing. Vegeta-Ouji says it's normal for Saiyajin to be so possessive, especially First Classes. Bulma-san sighs, her eyes glittering, and says it's sweet. Mom decreed that Trunks's behaviour borders on creepy; but she's actually pleased that I'm so fiercely looked after. She wouldn't have it any other way, and boy, did she made sure that Trunks knew it!
I'll admit that Trunks's over-protectiveness can be a little stifling, sometimes. But whatever makes Trunks happy makes Goten happy, too. It's an Unspoken Rule of the Universe. Besides, I'm anything if not adaptable, and some overboard pampering has never killed anyone, has it?
Speaking of pampering… it's getting colder, and Trunks isn't here to curl up against and steal a kiss or twelve. A part of me perks up and mentions I could always locate him through our connection and fly to him. Or better yet, I could use it to reel him back home, and in bed with me.
The voice, whatever it is, is summarily voted against and delivered a deadly blown by the rest of my brain. Whatever Trunks is doing right now, it's important to him. He's working damn hard to show people he's not just a pretty face, but someone more than worthy of the position he's gonna inherit from Bulma-san one day in the (hopefully faraway) future. I've no intention to go and blow it up for him just so that we can cuddle.
I wiggle under the sheets until I can peek at the window from beneath my cocoon of wool and cotton. Woah… it's snowing outside, I didn't notice. It makes for a beautiful picture. Light is starting to wash over the snow-capped peaks, and I think dawn is literally behind the corner.
Too Damn Early o' Clock in the morning, I'm sleepy as hell, and sleep is still playing bloody hard to get.
This sucks royally, yeah. How did you guess?
That part of my brain I thought I'd squelched before resurrects long enough to point out I'd sleep like a log, if I had what I needed here. Like, I dunno, maybe Trunks?
Stupid insomnia.
Stupid unconscious, saying silly intelligent things; stupid work, keeping Trunks away… Umph. C'mhere pillow. I really need a hug right now.
…
…
…Argh! This is so insane it ain't even funny anymore. Is love always like that? Or is this beast large enough to fill me, with wings that keep me afloat through thick and thin, and fangs that can tear me apart without prior notice, something distinctive of Saiyajin only?
Faintly, I can hear an answering twinge of pain and longing and deep-seated loneliness come from my link with Trunks. Below the surface, I can detect his adoration, need, concern. And his desire. So much desire that I feel a wave of heat wash trough me, making me tingle and curl into a little ball of trembling flesh.
Ah! I might be skippin' my happy way down to madness, here. But if Trunks ever says this forced separation didn't affect him in the slightest, he'll be soooooooo lying…
-TBC-