Disclaimer:
The usual disclaimer.. these characters are not my property, any similarities in names or events to actual people is purely coincidental.

Chapter Nine, Part II: Sensual, Simple, and Sinful: The Oxymoronic, Alliterative Trifecta of Life's Pleasures

I yawned and smacked my lips as I grabbed at the covers next to me expecting to find my best friend, instead finding nothing. My eyes shot wide open in shock. Had it really happened or was this just another all-too vivid dream? I shut my eyes once more, hard enough for my face to become scrunched up.

When you open your eyes, he'll be there.

But nothing. I sighed heavily and ran my fingers through my short, black spikes dejectedly, wondering just why I thought that would work. I shut my eyes once more to let the images from my imagination take form, trying to will them into reality. I took the pillow from under my head and grasped it between my arms, burying my face in it, a part of me wanting to cry.

It's not fair. It was all so real. I could even smell him in my pillow as if he had only been here hours ago. I could feel myself slowly be overcome with a horrible sensation, torn between screaming at the top of my lungs and bawling my eyes out. I opted for the former, screaming into the pillow that covered my face.

Yet just as the pillow was covering my face, the scream had covered the sounds of the clicking lock and the creaking door. It was the powerful hands shaking me that got me to cease my cathartic screaming.

"Goten, what's wrong? Are you all right!"

I turned around to see Trunks looking right down at me, as always effortlessly good-looking despite the disheveled hair and the look of worry from what must have been quite an interesting scene to walk into.

"Trunks! Is that really you?" My hand slowly made its way to his face, contorting it into a handful of odd expressions as I grabbed at his cheek to confirm he wasn't a figment of my imagination.

"Yes, Chibi, it's me," he laughed. "Why were you screaming?" he asked, pulling away and rubbing the cheek I had just pinched.

"What? Oh, no reason," I lied, paying more attention to the bags that lay on the floor beside him. "What's that?" I asked, eager to change the subject.

"I bought us some new clothes, since the ones from yesterday are all wet and muddy. Not to mention that that I kinda did away with some of yours," he chuckled.

I had forgotten about my ripped boxers, which lay on the stained carpet next to the single bed. Until I'd thought of them again I had failed to notice that I still lay completely naked in the bed Trunks and I shared the previous night.

"Dude! I'm naked!" I yelled as I pulled the covers over my bottom half.

"So?" he chuckled. "Not like I've never seen you naked before. And after yesterday, well… let's just say from now on seeing you in the nude won't have been the raunchiest thing we've done together."

My eyes narrowed as I glared at him. "Well, that doesn't mean we're gonna walk around each other naked all the time," I scoffed.

"Aw, that's a shame," he sighed, jumping onto the bed next to me, lying face up with his head resting in his clasped hands, his body feeding warmth into my otherwise bare thigh.

"How'd you buy all these clothes anyway?" I asked, reaching into the bag and pulling out what I knew from the bag to be designer clothes. My jaw dropped when I looked at the price tags. "Come to think of it, how did you even pay for this room?"

It wasn't until I'd made that observation that I'd bothered to take a close look at the room. The air conditioner that had failed to work the previous night was covered in rust at the bottom, with some green stuff near the vent that I could only hope was not mold. The thick curtains that covered the window were faded towards the bottom, the conspicuous gradient from beige to almost white made painfully obvious by the sun that poured into the room. The tan carpet had a large stain near the door from what I could only hope was coffee, but would not be surprised if it was in fact blood. Indeed, it can't have been an expensive room, but what with being forced to leave Trunks's apartment less than a few days ago for lack of money, how he'd paid for it definitely raised a red flag.

"How do you think?" he chuckled.

"Charge it?" I asked, thinking to his usual method of subsisting. "But I thought your mom cancelled all your cards."

Trunks sighed, sitting up and running his fingers through his hair on the side, scratching the back of his scalp as he usually did when he was tense or wanted to avoid something.

"Why'd you get all nervous all of a sudden? Did you steal it?" I gasped.

"No, nothing like that," he chuckled. "I just…"

Now it was me that was getting nervous. "What is it?" I pressed, putting down the bag of clothes, the crumpling of the paper bags echoing in the room.

"I don't want you to get mad and have us end up fighting," he sighed.

"I won't get mad, Trunks," I smiled, taking his hand within my own and rubbing my thumb over his palm. He'd done the simple gesture to me on so many occasions, and it always relaxed me more than anything else in this world could. I chuckled inwardly thinking that all those times there was genuine affection behind them.

Trunks sighed and looked at me straight in the eye. "You know how it was that Ariana and I met?"

The question caught me off-guard. I merely blinked, the soft back-and-forth motion of my finger inexplicably stopping.

"Don't freak out, just listen," he groaned. My face drooped slightly, feeling somewhat guilty that I'd already broken the promise I'd made.

"Do you know who Ariana's parents are?" he asked.

I simply and honestly shook my head.

"Nah, you wouldn't. Even if you had heard of them, you have no reason to have made the connection; you barely know anything about her other than us being together and engaged."

I withdrew my hand from Trunks's; though well aware of these two details, being reminded of them didn't particularly leave me jumping for joy, especially considering what it meant for Trunks and mine's own… whatever it is that we have.

"Sorry," he said quickly, snatching my hands ones more and performing the same movement within my own palm. As usual, it was quite relaxing.

"What I was going at was that you don't even know her last name, I don't think." Again, I shook my head. "So you surely don't know her parents own the second-largest telecommunications company in all of Europe. And you definitely have no way of knowing that Capsule's looking to do some kind of merger with them. The only reason it's legal is because the two companies specialize in different areas of technological industry, otherwise it would break all sorts of international trade laws by becoming a global monopoly."

I must have looked just as or more stupid than I felt, because after that last part Trunks chuckled and apologized once more. I always get lost when he talks about business.

"Point is my mom set us up so as to help this deal go more smoothly, and I agreed to do it. She'd threatened me to go along with it or else she'd take this and that away, but I would have done it anyway. Capsule's gonna be mine someday, and I'm not about to object to anything that's gonna help it grow."

"That, and she's pretty cute," I added dejectedly.

"But not as cute as you," Trunks smiled, cocking his eyebrows. I just laughed, not believing he could be so sappy.

"There's that smile I love," he said.

We sat in silence for about a minute, his thumb still absentmindedly making its smooth strokes on my palm. "So how'd you get your mom to give you back your credit card?" I finally said, snapping out of the relaxed stupor brought on by the delicate motion.

"She gave it back to me so I could buy everything for the wedding," he sighed.

"Oh," I blurted, the thought of Trunks marrying Ariana giving me the sensation of my heart growing tighter.

Silence once more. Off in the distance a muffled, whirring noise could be heard, presumably the vacuum cleaner from housekeeping doing their half-assed job in an adjacent room.

"So you're still gonna marry her," I managed to get out. "For Capusle's sake."

"What? No!" he exclaimed. "The deal doesn't count on us getting married. And even if it does go through, it's not like the company will go bankrupt if this deal doesn't go through. And if my mom doesn't like it, well, fuck her."

"That's your dad's job," I laughed. "I wouldn't even want to give her a kiss on the cheek."

"Yeah, she's been a real bitch, hasn't she?"

"Calling her a bitch would be an understatement," I groaned.

"No kidding. You and I should teach her a lesson," he smiled. "And I know just what we're gonna do."

"What's that?" I asked.

"First..." he said, snapping to his feet and pulling the covers off me. "Get dressed."

"I thought you liked seeing me like this," I scoffed, scouring the paper bag with the half-naked male models on them. "So what'd you get me?"

Trunks snatched the bag away from me, digging inside for the appropriate contents. "Underwear… can't have you going around commando," he joked, throwing at me a pack of black boxer briefs with the name of the designer sewn in white into the elastic. "Jeans," he said, throwing me an acid-washed pair with meticulously-placed rips that were just on the borderline between fashionable and absolute garbage. "Shame we're not the same size, I really like those…"

"Like you don't have enough jeans already," I laughed, putting on the articles of clothing tossed my way. "What else?"

"T-shirt," he continued, handing me the white top with the designer's name emblazoned on the front.

"Damn, does this guy put his name on everything?" I grunted, overcome with an odd feeling after putting on the shirt. "Trunks this shirt is too small." What little musculature I had left was contoured by the practically skin-tight top.

"I know," he smiled coyly. "You look good like that. All your shirts are all way too baggy on you, anyway," he added, putting a black-and-white checkered army cap on my head. The new shoes matched the rest of the outfit perfectly; catching my reflection in the dirty mirror I noticed Trunks was right… I did look good.

"There, all dressed. Now what?"

"Tag," he chuckled.

I reached down to take the tags off the clothes, the only other indication, aside from the conspicuous logos on every article, of just how much everything I was wearing cost.

"No, I mean tag," Trunks whispered, leaning in close and pressing his finger to my nose. "You're it." He laughed as he walked to the door, opened it, and flew out, the gush of wind in the small room pulling the curtains right off the window.

The announcement caught me completely by surprise. For the most part, Trunks had always hated games when we were children. Well, not video games, particularly ones that had fast cars and gratuitous violence. But as far as the ones of the tag or hide-and-seek variety, it would be me who'd suggest them and Trunks who'd, at best, go along with them. What's more, now we weren't even children anymore.

"Hurry up, slowpoke!" I heard him shout distantly as he floated outside.

Who was I to deny him my childhood pleasure? I rose from the bed and walked outside. The moment I appeared in the doorway Trunks bolted off, quickly becoming no more than a dot in the distance. I too, took off at top speed behind him, the hat Trunks had just bought me flying off my head. But I barely even noticed it; I was flying, the wind blowing my short, black spikes in all directions and pushing my cheeks back.

"No fair, you got a head start!" I shouted, not even sure if he could possibly hear me, he was so far ahead. But he was ahead, I could sense him.

The rush of flying was like no other. How could you have possibly denied yourself this for a whole year while you slaved away to keep up that meager existence you called my life?

Hundreds of feet up, the people and cars below me small as ants, without a care in the world. Whatever happens, you're never going back, you're staying here.

Playing tag with my best friend, just like old times. Here's where you belong.

My best friend who I love. Here with him.

And he loves me too.

I squint and in the distance I see a spot of lavender; I power up and race toward it. The spot gets bigger and bigger as I get close to it, faster than I would have thought considering I was chasing him. Unless I powered up more than I'd thought and was now going faster than the speed of sound. Or, unless he was just…

We both fall down to the ground as I crash into Trunks, who was floating in midair, completely still. "Gotcha," I groan, reeling from the fall.

"You okay, Chibi?" he smiles, pushing himself off the ground and helping me up as well.

"I'm alive, if that's what you mean." In other regards I was less than okay; looking around me I realized where he'd led me to: Capsule Corp. A chill ran down my spine thinking of the warning I'd received from Bulma a few nights ago. After all she's done so far, I don't even want to imagine what she'll do when she find out me and Trunks are…

"Trunks, what are we?" I blurted.

"Hmm?" he responded, cocking an eyebrow to what I realized was a perhaps odd and definitely random question. "We're half-Saiyans," he chuckled.

"No, I mean, what are we? You and I… us… what is this?"

Trunks smiled and grabbed my hand. He pulled me in and kissed me on the lips softly, biting my bottom lip as he pulled away. "I'm hungry, let's go inside."

"You didn't-" I began, before he jerked me towards the residential complex, not letting me finish the sentence. Maybe I was meant to take the chaste kiss in broad daylight on the grounds of his residence and place of business as an answer. I still would have liked a word for what we were. Confirm that he thinks of me as more than just a friend with benefits.

"Dad, I'm home," Trunks said, greeting Vegeta, who was uncharacteristically out from the sanctuary that was his gravity chamber. Plates of food were piled in front of him; I suppose everyone's gotta eat sometime.

"Hey, Vegeta," I added meekly, looking around and listening carefully to make sure Bulma wasn't around.

"Why haven't you kept up with your training?" Vegeta queried; mine weren't the only random questions going around. I wasn't even sure he was talking to me, at first.

"Been busy, I guess. School and work," I replied concisely, not wanting to reveal to Vegeta all the details of my ordeal, and quite certain that he wouldn't care either way.

"You are a powerful Saiyan warrior. If my boy is to have you as his mate, I expect you to act like one." I heard Trunks chuckle as my eyes widened.

"He's been calling you my mate since that other day," Trunks laugh.

"Don't you laugh, boy. The same goes for you. You are both weak. And this one is positively scrawny," Vegeta added.

I pouted, resenting being called scrawny. Granted, I don't look as strong as I used to, but Vegeta was exaggerating. And next to Vegeta, who was huge courtesy of training every day practically nonstop for the past ten years, anybody looked scrawny.

"I'm off to train," Vegeta said, rising and heading toward the door. "As should you."

"Sure thing, dad," replied Trunks. "Where's Mother?"

"Around," Vegeta grunted, closing the sliding glass door behind him.

Shit, Bulma.

"Trunks, let's go eat somewhere else. Anywhere else, just not here."

"What's wrong with here?" he chuckled. "It's great food, lots of it, doesn't cost us a cent and we don't have to lift a finger. Plus, phase one of my plan starts right here,"

"Phase one? Plan? Trunks, it's not the food, it's—"

"Look, my dad didn't even touch half his food. And he left all the desserts, I know how you love those," Trunks beamed.

"Yeah, I do, but I just –"

"Open wide," he announced, cutting me off yet again by shoving a piece of chocolate cake into my mouth.

Leave it to the person who knew me best to know how to shut me up. The chocolaty pastry practically melted in my mouth; Trunks knew it was my favorite dessert, and this one was certainly of the best I'd ever tried. I unconsciously closed my eyes to fully enjoy the treat I'd been given.

Trunks grabbed my hand and dipped my finger in the whipped cream topping another pastry on the food-filled table. He pulled my own hand to his mouth and sucked on the covered finger, yet another moment of tease and affection like the many he'd drawn me into over the past day. My eyes still shut, I reveled in the electrictifying sensation that ran down my arm and through the rest of my body.

I opened my eyes to look at him, and found him smiling. Only it was neither innocent nor peaceful, but rather sly and cunning. I focused on his warm blue eyes, troubled by the fact that they didn't focus into my own, or into me, but just past me.

And then I felt it.

I didn't even need to turn around to feel the numbing sensation or the piercing stare of those eyes; the blue eyes that were so unlike Trunks's. While his were warm and welcoming, hers were cold and empty. I gulped as I turned around slowly, each turquoise lock of hair sending dread into every inch of my body.

I made to withdraw my finger from Trunks's mouth; end the erotic gesture before any more damage could be done. But whatever Trunks's plan was, it only seemed to involve causing even more damage, as he held my hand in its place, my index finger clasped tightly within his lips.

I was clearly the only one overcome with the feeling of trepidation, seemingly made worse by the low laughter coming from my purple-haired friend.

"Hi mom."

To be continued. Please read and review.