Trunks glanced nervously at his desk and then at the clock. 10:37. He waited what felt like an hour, then glanced up again and sighed. 10:38....


'I should have told him to come earlier,' the half saiya-jin squirmed in his seat, drumming his fingers on the desk until a crack appeared, running up one side of the mahogany frame. The desk was littered with papers and pencils- the man hadn't gotten a lick of work done all morning- he was too preoccupied. Trunks regarded it for a moment, then leapt up and ran to the bathroom, staring at his reflection in the mirror once more and asking the questions he had asked over and over all morning, ever since he got into the office.


Trunks looked a lot like his future counterpart now, though he didn't know it. He had let his hair grow long and wore it back in a long lavender ponytail that always stayed perfectly in place. Combined with his dark-colored suit, it had a habit of making him look like a sleek buisness tycoon, which of course, he was. It also tended to remind people that he was filthy stinking rich. "I wonder if he likes my hair long?" Trunks wondered outloud, fixing his ponytail for the third time in an hour. "I wonder if I should bring him flowers? Chocolate? A new air-car? Anything? Or would that make it too obvious that I'm trying to move in where Pikoro is now?"


His own voice echoed through his personal restroom as he scrutinized every portion of his reflection. The suit was perfect, navy blue, it was a natural fit- all of Trunks' clothes were tailored exactly to his form. "I think the jacket is too formal," he sighed, slipping it off. Beneath was a white cotton button-up shirt, which he removed his tie from and then slipped it back on, wondering which looked better. "It's too impersonal with the tie on," he finally admitted.


Still, Trunks could picture himself kissing Gohan in a tie....


Hell, he could picture Gohan in a tie!


.....nothing but a tie.......


"Aah....ah shit," Trunks sighed as the suit suddenly began to feel very tight, wishing he'd waited till after the 'date' to think of such things. The nosebleed would be difficult to explain...


Wiping it off with the back of one hand, he found a few wads of cotton and heaved himself onto the counter next to the sink and waited with his head tilted back.



10:53. Gohan landed on the roof of the main Capsule Corperation office building with a graceful thunk. His hair was out of place, but other than that he looked just fine. Waving Kin'toun away, he moved towards the staircase and let himself in, walking down the steps to the floor Trunks' office was on. Glancing around, he gave the secretary a wave. "I'm here to see Trunks..."


"Name?" The woman was certainly well-endowed, and when she looked at Gohan she blushed faintly and leaned over, examining a clipboard and giving Gohan an unreasonably good look down her dress front.


"S-son Gohan..." Gohan muttered, staring at his feet. "Trunks was expecting me."


"Oh, you're his eleven o'clock appointment. He's been so jumpy I thought he was having a
female friend over or something," the woman said silkily, winking at the young man. Gohan laughed nervously and shrugged. "I'm glad it's just you, less competition for me."


Sweatdrop. "I'm not an appointment, we're just having lunch."


"You kidding? His lunch isn't till one thirty. You're an appointment, kiddo."


Gohan blinked and walked to the door while the woman depressed an intercom button. 'Wow,' he thought, 'Trunks took three hours off just to listen to my problem....he's a really good friend. I'm so lucky...'


"Briefs-sama," the secretary said in a sexy sort of voice that made Gohan stare at her oddly, "One Son Gohan is here to see you."


Trunks calmed his voice and forced himself to sit at his desk and look like he was working. "Send him in."


The door clicked open and Gohan walked in, gazing around the massive office in awe. The place was as luxurious as could be, lush carpet underfoot and low lighting in every corner. Windows were placed around the dome-like ceiling, letting in natural light. Trunks desk was dark mahogany, and Gohan blinked to notice the crack running up one side, nearly splitting the surface in half. "Oi, Torunksuu," he smiled shakily and lifted one hand.


"Oh, Gohan!" Trunks beamed for a moment, then adjusted his expression. "You're right on time!"


"I didn't want to keep you waiting," Gohan said quietly.


'I'll wait as long as it takes,' Trunks grinned and slid a few papers out of a long manilla envelope.


Gohan yawned once and plunked down in a nearby chair. "I'll be honest, I almost didn't get up in time to get here! I was up way too late last night."


Trunks felt his stomach fill with ice. He really, really, really didn't want to know what that comment meant- that hurt ten times more than Gohan would ever know. Still, he managed to school his mind and ignore the conotation of those words... "Hehe, lazy days are good days. Let me sign this paper and then we'll be ready to go. Do you want to go out or eat here?"


"Oh, let's go out. Pikoro never takes me anywhere."


Pressing his intercom button, Trunks made a request of his over-eager secretary. "Bambi," he asked the secretary, "what's the most expensive restaraunt in town?"


"Oh, Briefs-sama, that's definately El Cielo, the space-needle restaraunt downtown.... They've got the best food around, but you have to have a reservation weeks in advance." Bambi's voice was surprised and a little awe-filled as she answered. Not many people could afford to eat at such a nice place...


"Call them up and have them seat a table for two around eleven thirty, nevermind the price."


"You got it, Prez."


"TRUNKS!" Gohan nearly choked- Piccolo didn't work and he was only a teacher, so money was always scarce. "You can't do that, that'll cost you a fortune!"


Trunks smiled to himself at the shock in Gohan's voice. He was still a country boy in so many ways... Though he was many years younger, Trunks often felt like he was older than Gohan. In some ways, the lavender-haired man guessed, he was. "Well, I have to spend it on someone, so I might as well spend it on you."


Gohan paused a moment, then grinned. "Trunks, you need to find a nice girl so you'll stop wasting your money on me. I'm fine with cold tuna at your office desk, don't go out of your way-"


"There aren't any girls in the picture at the moment," Trunks said softly, sighing. Gohan had no idea that Trunks was...well, like him. He didn't even see Vegeta's son as a potential boyfriend, nothing more than a buddy to have lunch with. It had been like this for years!


"Hmmm...well, going out with a gay friend won't exactly turn the masses on," Gohan winked cheerfully at Trunks' back as the other man stood and filed one last folder. "You really should get out on the town and meet some people!"


"Oh, you're one to talk, Gohan!" Trunks forced himself to laugh at the words that were more-than-painful to his psyche. "When was the last time you went to a night club?"


Gohan thought a few moments, then coughed once in the silence and spoke almost regretfully. "I....um.....I think Videl took me to one before I realized that....well, you remember how that was."


Trunks did. He had been young at the time, but he still remembered how much Videl had loved Gohan, and what had happened when Piccolo claimed the young man to be his own in front of the woman, and challenged her to fight him for posession of the saiya-jin man... Gohan, despite his brotherly love for the female fighter, had sided with Piccolo when all was said and done. Videl had been completely defeated by the namekusei-jin, and only a senzu bean had saved her life.


Trunks hadn't seen her since.


That had been the first time Trunks had realized what he was. That it was possible for a boy to love others of his kind and for them to be happy....unfortunately, with that realization came admiration for Gohan, who dared to be what he was even when his mother begged him to reconsider...


That had been when his crush started.


"Yeah, I remember," Trunks said softly, ignoring the memories that flooded through his mind. "Still, I don't want to go out on the town alone. If you want me to go out so bad, why don't you come too? We can hit some dance clubs."


Gohan thought carefully for a moment, weighing the potential good time against Piccolo's anger, and deciding that he didn't want to offend his mentor/lover by going out with another boy, he shook his head. "What would Pikoro think?"


"Well, he doesn't have to know."


".......No, Trunks, I don't think I should."


Trunks felt his hard-won opportunity slipping away, and he grasped to catch it before it shattered. "Well, at least think about it over dinner. Right now, let's go down and drive out to that restaraunt."



Piccolo threw his fist forward and then shifted his weight, bouncing nimbly backwards until he was against the wall of his gravity room. Only then did he allow himself to pause, slicked the sweat off his hairless eyebrow-ridges and slump down against the wall, panting.


It had been four hours straight, or had it been more? He couldn't remember... the intense combination of heat and high gravity was beginning to make him dizzy. Piccolo sighed and set his head against his knees, pondering. Today was a saturday, and Gohan wasn't sparring with him. Why was that again? Oh, yeah. He was out with Trunks...


Trunks, huh? Piccolo frowned as he felt a surge of a strange feeling fill his chest- he was jealous, very jealous. However... 'If Gohan knows that, he'll be mad. He'll think I don't trust him, which I do, more than anything.'


Oh, come on, he realized. Might as well admit it.


'This relationship is falling apart...but why? What am I doing wrong? I try to make him happy when we're alone, but during the daylight hours we grow further and further apart. I don't know how to fix this.'


He considered asking someone for help- who could he turn to? Gohan had been his best friend, Gokou was nothing for relationships, Vegeta was...well....Vegeta. Chi-chi hated Piccolo with a passion for 'perverting her baby'...


The only noise that filled the room was Piccolo's breathing and the drip-drip of sweat against the chipped tile as the namekusei-jin tried to decipher Gohan's feelings.



"So ya see...." Gohan said loudly, twirling a shot glass around in his fingers and staring dismally at the emptied contents, "Pikoro-san's stop't payin' attention ta me around our housh...house... yeah, house... I mean, he's a damned good lover, Trunks," for a moment, the man grinned, but the expression washed away quickly, "But is that all he wants? I'm not a toy! NOT HIS TOY!"


He slammed the glass down onto the table, and a waiter appeared at his side, filling it immediately. When Gohan picked it up again, he stared in surprise at the vodka sloshing down his arm and then smiled, downing the rest. He made a face for a moment before speaking again, and Trunks was beginning to regret asking for a list of the house's liquors.


"Of course not, Gohan-kun, of course not," he murmered, hoping to quiet the man. Over Gohan's shoulder he could see a young woman pointing towards their booth with an angry look on her face... "Shh, don't be so loud."


"But Trunks, you said I could tell you about it! I want more than feeling his-"


"GOHAN!"


"Excuse me, sirs, but if you don't quiet down I'm going to have to ask you to leave," a young man appeared, wearing a badge that read 'Manager' across the front. "You are disturbing our other guests."


Gohan stood. "Your other guestsht...gu...guests....can be disturbed, I don't give a DAMN!" he shouted, the shotglass in his hand slipping away. "In fact, I...I...."


The glass went flying and shattered against the floor, while Trunks, pulling his pride together, led Gohan out the door, tossing two hundred-zeni bills over to the manager as they left. "Keep the change, sorry about this, sir. My friend isn't used to such hard drinks..."


As he pushed Gohan into the back seat of his car, Trunks sighed and shook his head. So much for a nice date.


Then again, he did have Gohan drunk and-


"Capsule corp? Yeah....Bambi-chan, cancel my appointments this afternoon..."



Piccolo sat at the dining room table, staring at the front door, his ears perked for the sound of a car door slamming and his ki attuned to Gohan's signal. The boy had been moving around all afternoon, jumping around with the ki Piccolo recognized as Trunks.


He glanced at the clock....10:45 pm. "Just eating lunch together....hah."


Still, though...."If I look for him, he'll know I'm worried and he'll think I don't trust him and his judgement." Piccolo's pride was too strong to let that happen. "Why are saiya-jin so hard to figure out? The human blood doesn't help any, either...."


Piccolo's antennae flattened against his brows and he sat miserably at the table as the clock passed eleven o'clock and sounded the number into the silent house. He missed the boy. He worried about him, though he hated to let it show.


"Gohan....doko da......?"



Elsewhere, other lips were saying that name, in a much different context. "Go....Gohan...kun..." Trunks whispered huskily, unable to believe his luck. Nightclub after nightclub and shot upon shot of alchohol had led him to this- he was stretched out over Gohan, breathing in the musky scent Gohan's sweat, overpowering and oh-so-inviting...


"Torunkusu..." Gohan breathed, his cloudy mind unfocused on what was happening. He could feel the warmth of Trunks' lips against his neck, feel the hands clumsily unbuttoning his shirt, felt lavender hair falling in his eyes- "M..matte..."


Trunks paused and lifted his head from Gohan's neck, breath hissing against the other man's skin before playfully nipping on his ear and then murmering against his face. "Hai, Gohan?"


"Onegai.....yamero...." Gohan whispered, tightening his fingers against Trunks's sculpted back and turning his head away. "Onegai, onegai...."


"Gohan," Trunks first ran his toungue up Gohan's neck and then found his lips, kissing him fully and forcing the older man's hands back against the cool car window. "I don't want to stop," he swore darkly, running his toungue across Gohan's lips and continuing once again before pausing to speak. "I never do."


"No! P....Pikoro!"


"That bastard will never know what he's lost," Trunks purred, running his toungue against Gohan's cheekbones. The black-haired saiya-jin's arms slipped from his grasp, one hand pushing against Trunks' shoulder, trying to force him away.


"No... he loves me..." The words were forced, the only thing Gohan had to believe. Trunks realized that before he would have Gohan, he had to shatter Piccolo's memory into a thousand pieces.


Something he would gladly do.


Trunks pushed Gohan's hands back and shifted his weight- he was straddling the older saiya-jin to keep him down. The way Gohan was stretched there, his shirt open, his face flushed...


Trunks swallowed back his lust and forced himself to speak. "Gohan, he doesn't love you! HE DOESN'T!" Frustration, denial, need....they filled Trunks' mind, making him speak what before he would have never breathed word of. He wanted Gohan, there and then, and nothing was going to stop him. "I want you, I need you, please, let me pleasure you, let me love you-"


Apparently the alchohol clouding wasn't enough, Gohan suddenly struggled against Trunks with all his strength, slipping his sweaty hands out of his grip and fumbling around with the side of the car. In moments he had the door open and spilled out of the steaming car into the gutter below. "NO! I love him! I won't...be untrue, please Torunksu..."


"GOHAN!"


Leaping up, the black-haired man stumbled away and leaned against a bench for a moment to steady himself. It was impossible to walk straight, impossible to think-


"God, Gohan! Let me love you! Let me show you-" In seconds, he had Gohan in his arms again, was pulling him into his lap down on the bench. Was kissing his neck. Was tugging at the belt around his waist. "Let me-..."


Face crimson with alchohol, Gohan moaned and shook his head, half unconcious. "No..."


"Gohan....."


A moment passed before Gohan sagged against Trunks, a small smile on his face though his eyes were closed. "Mm...no, Pikoro-s-san... no, stop-"


Trunks froze in place, feeling the warmth in his belly washing away with those words. Piccolo.... He owned Gohan completely, but didn't deserve him... Gohan wasn't feeling Trunks' hands, he was feeling his mentor. Kissing someone completely different. To...to do anything now would practically be rape...


"Gohan...if I want you, it can't be like this, can it?"


The black-haired head fell against his neck, the soft breathing brushing against Trunks' shirtless shoulder. After a moment, he pushed Gohan off and stood, face flushed. 'Oh god, let him be too drunk to remember.....' "Come on, Gohan. I'm taking you home."



Piccolo was at the door before Trunks even finished knocking, swinging it open and nearly smashing into the lavender-haired boys face. "GOHAN!"


His eyes fell on Trunks, who was holding Gohan in his arms, both of them shirtless, and Piccolo froze, narrowing his eyes. For a moment a tense silence filled the air, broken by Piccolo's suspicious query. "What happened...?"


"Gohan had a little too much to drink. Here, I'll carry him in-" Trunks moved forwards, but was blocked by Piccolo's massive figure.


The namekusei-jin scowled down at Trunks before snatched Gohan from his arms and holding the man tightly against his chest. "That's not necessary."


Silence, full of accusation as Piccolo glared down at the lavender haired saiya-jin. Trunks wondered just how telepathic namekusei-jin were, since Piccolo's eyes seemed to be boring into his soul. Or was his own guilt the problem, was he beating himself up?


Just as Trunks was ready to apologize for anything he might have done, Piccolo turned his back on the man and muttered a dismissal over his shoulder, short and unquestionable. "You can leave. Now."


Trunks was left staring at a slammed door.


Moving through the entryway, Piccolo scowled. Sniffing delicately at his mate, the namekusei-jin sighed tiredly and shook his head. "Gohan, you stink like something dead." The saiya-jin in his arms simply reeked of smoke, cheap booze, hormones and Trunks...


Hormones and Trunks?


Raising his brows in surprise, Piccolo carried Gohan up into the bathroom and flipped the
hot water on with one three-fingered hand, carefully keeping Gohan in his arms. He took a moment to pull off Gohan's long slacks, then dumped him in the bath, boxers and all.


A few moments passed as Gohan splashed out of his slumber and sat up, rubbing
his eyes with his fists. "Pik'ro-san!" He squeaked happily when he realized who was kneeling at the side of the tub, and just who's hand was cupped under his chin, making sure he didn't sink underwater. "What're ya doin' here?"


"I live here, kid." Piccolo smirked, tilting his head slightly. Something told him Gohan wouldn't be remembering much of this in the morning... "You're wasted."


Giggling childishly, Gohan splashed him with a faceful of warm water and grinned ear to
ear before trying to stand. "I are, aren't I..." His feet slipped out from under him, and only Piccolo's hands kept him from slamming skull-first into the bathtub.


"Gohan!"


"Pik'ro-chaaaaaaaaan....I need some help..." Gohan said coyly, splashing again and making Piccolo's eyes narrow slightly at his tone of voice. "It's too cold 'n 'ere, I wannya to turn up the hot..."


"Talk to me when you're sober." Piccolo scowled, turned the 'cold' faucet to full force and listened in satisfaction as Gohan shrieked at the sudden temperature change. Catching the boy as he struggled out of the now-frigid water, Piccolo lifted him gently and carried him over to the bed they shared.


Gohan was half-asleep as soon as he hit the covers, curling up and wrapping his fluffy tail around Piccolo's hand in a subconcious gesture of affection. The namekusei-jin smiled slightly as the boy muttered in his half-awake state. "Pik'ro-sama...ma...."


Piccolo shook his head and settled down at the foot of the bed, staring at his student lover with a forced-yet-irritated scowl on his face. "Gohan, if you ever do this again, I'm going to kill you."


Gohan was already asleep.


Staring at the boy, Piccolo settled back against the foot of the bed, regarding his student-turned-lover with confusion on his face. The way Gohan had come home tonight...asleep in the arms of Trunks, who seemed all-too-glad to be carrying the young demi-saiya-jin... Piccolo didn't like it at all.


It made him nervous.


When he was sleeping, Gohan looked so utterly content to just remain there between the sheets forever- why didn't he look that way when he was awake? Piccolo was at a loss. He knew Gohan was unhappy, he felt the growing hole in the center of their relationship, but fixing it was so hard...


He sighed, watching as Gohan rolled over, his feet poking out from under the blanket. 'I knew I would be taking a risk when I agreed to lay with him that first night, when I gave in to the secret emotions I'd hidden for so long, and it was so...perfect... but.... now all my doubts are manifesting ten times over. Gohan, now that I've found you, I can't live without you, yet you're so unhappy... Why? It's me. I know it's me. You're perfect, you would never botch something like love up...but...do you understand how hard it is for me?'


The inner monolouge recieved no answers/


The saiya-jin 'snrked' loudly and smacked his lips, mumbling something incoherent. Piccolo tucked the other man's toes back under the covers and shook his head. 'I've never done this before. Gohan, I tried to explain then, that I've never been in love before. Never been loved period.'


The years of being out on his own came flooding back in a swell of unwanted memories- the cold nights, the dark obsession, the seed of his father's hatred sprouting and crushing his heart within his chest. So miserable, so cold, so tired of the world...


It had been hard growing up, though his childhood was short and hurried. There were no games and no peace, just fighting, just hate. Piccolo remembered the first time he had split his body, making a miniature copy of himself to spar with. The shock of seeing his own face, eyes narrow, antennae short and stubby- it had been scary. He was only a year old, and yet his father's battles weighed in his mind, a thousand years of bitter resentment polluting him-


Piccolo winced and tried to shake the thoughts away. 'I never had anyone. I never gave love a thought. Even when I met you, you were always the child and I the adult, while I'm only four years older than you. You never think about that- to you I'm twice, thrice your age. Is that it? Am I too old for you, too dark?'


Gohan didn't move, and Piccolo sighed again. How does one work his way into the mind of a drunken demi-saiya-jin? Sigh. He was doing that alot lately- he made a mental note to avoid it around Gohan. 'There's nothing I know how to do, Gohan, please, you have to help me. I want to stop this, I want to fix it to the way it was, but I can't, I don't know how. You could, please, just tell me what I'm doing wrong...'


The namekusei-jin leaned back against the foot of the bed and waited for morning to come.