Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonball Z or any of its characters, or any of the characters, real, fictional, or double-fictional (double-fictional being like one of the men in Trunks's helicopter/skyscraper doodle), in anything mentioned in any of these chapters. I wouldn't even say I "own" Haku or Yamato even though I made them up. So there.

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After the long, awkward ride home, we stop in front of Trunks's dorm. Having not heard his voice in a while, I jumped at the deep voice asking me, "Would you like to come up?"

"Okay," I whisper.

We climb the stairs and arrive at his dark, empty suite. He flicks on the overhead light and says, "Have a seat," in a tone that, while retaining suggestibility, has a commanding feel to it. I immediately do so.

He sits on the other couch. "Goten," he begins. "Marron and I broke up this morning."

"What? Why?" I ask, for some reason not feeling as happy as I would have thought I would.

"You don't have to pretend to be disappointed, Goten. I was thinking about it the other day and it finally hit me why whenever I brought up Marron and I's relationship it got you so down. And who your 'secret crush' was."

I tense up and try to keep a straight face, neither confirming nor denying anything that Trunks is thinking of. Has he really figured out that I like him? I didn't make it obvious, did I? Oh, man, I hope we can still be friends.

"Trunks,...I..." I begin.

"But there were a lot of reasons," he interrupts. "We had nothing new to add to the relationship, for one. Plus... well," he trails off.

"Plus?"

"No, nothing. Forget it, I shouldn't have even said it."

"Tell me, Trunks."

He sighs and begins to pick at a hole in the couch where the stuffing is coming out, "Well... I kind of have a 'secret crush' myself," he says, rolling his eyes at using the phrase "secret crush."

I gasp silently. "Who?" I squeak out.

"I can't tell you. Sorry."

"But..."

"No, Goten. But if things work out, I think you'll know sooner or later."

"Why can't you tell me?"

"It's a secret!" he says. "You got one so I should get one, too."

"Yeah, but you know why I had to keep mine a secret. Unless you're completely wrong."

"Well, yeah. But I still have to keep this a secret, too. I can't fuck it up, Goten."

Who on earth could he be talking about? I mean, we don't even know that many girls. Wait. He couldn't be... no, of course not. He's not talking about me. Am I so deluded that I would actually think that's even possible? Sigh. He's straight. He is one hundred percent heterosexual. He doesn't love me like that. He can't.

"All right, Trunks. All right."

"So, Goten. About you being... 'sidetracked'?"

"... You have your secrets, and I'll have mine."

"Aw, come on, Goten. That's so fucked up."

"Nuh-uh!"

"You can't handle that I won't tell you who it is, can you?"

"Of course I can. Who cares?"

"You care. But I'm not telling you, so let's just drop it."

"Fine, we'll drop it," I reply.

"Good!"

"Good!"

We sit across from each other, arms crossed and looking away from one another, eyes closed.

"Goten?" he begins.

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry. I really don't mean to be so junior-high about this whole thing. Secret crushes and all. But," he pauses to sigh, "right now, I just can't tell you, all right?"

I nod. "I understand. It's all right, Trunks."

He smiles back.

"So ... who broke up with whom?" I ask. "Just, y'know, out of curiosity."

"It was pretty mutual, but I'm the one who said it's not working out. She kind of agreed but still went through the whole 'you bastard!' routine. And then her parents joined in. I'm usually pretty good with parents."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah, Pan's parents loved me," he begins as I chuckle inwardly but don't say anything else.

"Oh yeah," he continues, "That's your brother, right?"

"Right."

"Man, small world," Trunks says, continuing to pick at the hole in the arm of the couch.

"Yeah..., well, hey, I should be getting back to Washi...," I say, standing up.

"Wait! Goten..., wait a second," he stands up as I sit back down, "could you...stay here tonight? I hate to ask and you can totally say 'n...,'"

"Of course," I interrupt. "No problem at all."

"Thank you. So, what do you want to do?"

"Got any alcohol?"

"There ya go," he responds with the first genuine smile I've seen him have since yesterday.

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After each of us has had a few drinks...

He screams as he punches me in the chest and then twice in the face, knocking me against the wall. In response, I shoot a spear out of my hand and yell, "Get over here!" It connects with his chest and, as I pull him closer, I give him a mighty uppercut. He flies into the air and lands on a bed of spikes.

"I win again, Trunks!"

"Eh, Mortal Kombat sucks."

"You're only saying that 'cause I beat you!"

"I'll beat you in real Mortal Kombat," he challenges, shoving me gently.

"Oh yeah?" I ask, playfully socking him in the arm.

"Ow! Shit, Goten," he says, punching me in the chest and standing up.

"Hey!" I shove him so that he almost loses his balance (which is nearly gone anyway) as I get up and adjust to the difficult task of staying up.

He slaps me across the face as I punch him in the ribs. He then shoves me onto the couch, having better luck than I did, but ends up falling himself, on top of me.

We begin to laugh hysterically. How did that even start?

Eyes filled with tears of laughter, Trunks's face comes into focus, still hovering no more than six inches above my face.

He has stopped laughing, as well. He's just looking at me.

How easy it would be to close the distance. It would take less than half of a second. And it would be oh, so perfect. I could even blame it on the alcohol. Like I had no control over it.

But that wouldn't be fair to Trunks. That would be horribly selfish.

Oh, Trunks. Look into my eyes. You know I want you to kiss me.

At that exact moment, Trunks picks himself off of me and dusts off his shirt.

Opportunity gone.

I sprawl out on the couch as Trunks sits on the other.

Silence except for the faint video game song in the background.

"Well, I'm pretty sleepy," Trunks says.

"Yeah, me too."

"You can have my bed tonight. I'll sleep on the couch."

"What? Why?"

"I made you stay, the least I could do is give you the comfortable bed."

"Trunks, you don't have t..."

"Go ahead. It's all right."

"All r-right..., thanks."

Despite not being as sleepy as I had claimed to be, I go ahead and make my way to Trunks's room, seeing his bed covered in black sheets and a black pillowcase. I turn out the light behind me and get under the covers. His sweet scent hangs in the air as I bury my nose in the pillow, trying to inhale enough of it to keep some in storage and enjoyed later. I rub my cheek against the soft pillow and, in the brilliant warmth of the dark blanket, I fall asleep.

- --------

Three hard knocks on the door is enough to open my eyes in time to see the dirty metal knob slowly turning. I sit up and watch as his beautiful form enters the room. "Good morning," he says, almost singing, and he sits on the edge of the bed. "How is my Goten this morning?"

"Wonderful! And how are you?"

"Splendid!" he responds gleefully, taking my hand and holding it up with his. "What a glorious day it is to spend...," he pauses to kiss my hand, "...with you, Goten."

My eyes widen as an uncontrollable grin takes over my face. "Trunks?"

"I love you, Goten. I'm so sorry that I didn't tell you before. You're my 'secret crush.'"

"I... I'm your...?"

He nods.

"Oh, Trunks!" I yell, throwing my arms around him and laying my head against his chest. "You were my secret crush, too!"

"I know. I didn't mean to keep it from you, but I've known how you feel ever since I told you about Marron," he says, rubbing my back as soothing tears of joy run down my face.

"I love you, Trunks."

"And I love you, my Goten."

He begins to cross the short distance between our lips and...

-------- -

I wake up to three hard knocks on the door.

A dream.

It was a dream. It seemed so real.

The same dirty knob turns in the same way as I remember it happening two minutes ago, and Trunks walks in. "Good morning."

I pause, noticing my hangover for the first time, before returning the greeting, "Good morning."

"Did you sleep well?"

"Fine, fine."

"Good! You want to get some breakfast and then I can take you back to your dorm?"

"Sure, let's go."

I get up, still fully dressed and feeling kind of messy. "Do you mind if I shower first?"

"Hmm, probably a good idea."

"All right, I guess I'll just..."

"You can borrow some of my clothes, if you want."

"Hmm, could I? That might be better."

"Yeah, I'll lay some out."

I hop into the shower and set it for colder than I usually would. I need to stop thinking about this. I seriously need to stop.

I sigh.

I step out to find a CC shirt, a pair of grey pants, a pair of socks, and a pair of dark blue boxers, the same color as his speedo, lying on the counter. I put them on, each slightly tighter on me than my normal clothes, but not even to the extent of being uncomfortable.

I walk out of the bathroom, and Trunks laughs. "You look like me!"

"Ha, I can't help that these clothes make me look like a dork."

"Hey, shut up," he says playfully. "C'mon, let's go."

"Right behind you."

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After breakfast, he drops me off at my dorm. Yamato has left for the weekend and won't be coming back until tonight. I walk in and, as I pass by the full-length mirror hanging on the wall, I glance at it and immediately do a double-take.

Oh, right, I'm wearing his clothes.

I continue to stare in the mirror at my reflection when I notice a bulge in Trunks's tight pants. Having locked the door behind me already, I slowly unzip them, still somewhat wary of my roommate hiding and pouncing out of nowhere. I slip my hand under the elastic of his boxers and grab my erection, at first gently stroking it, but quickly transitioning to forceful tugging, all the while burying my nose in his shirt, taking in the remainder of his scent. I continue to stare in the mirror, closing my eyes as little as possible, until the pure ecstasy of the moment overtakes me, I arch my back, and I climax.

---------

I immediately remove his now-stained boxers and lie on my bed in nothing but his shirt and my own (different) pair of boxers, with the covers pulled up to my chest.

I fall asleep.

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Post-disclaimers: There's no beautiful way to describe ejaculation. This includes but is not limited to, "ejaculate," "spill seed," "cum," "come," "climax," "skeet," etc.

I don't like lemon. Well, I mean, I like the type of fruit, but I don't like lemon fics, and that includes writing it. But when I feel it fits (no pun intended), what can you do? That is why I rated it M.

And because I have now officially broken twenty thousand words and 1000 hits, tune in tomorrow for a bonus Valentine's Day chapter! (I'd sure like to break 20 reviews by then, too...)