Disclaimer: I am far too lazy to come up with quite a complex series such as Dragon ball Z. I don't own it, nor do I wish I owned it, because that sounds like a lot of work…

Summary: 14 drabbles about Goten and Trunks' Valentine's Day.

Word count: 2907

Rated M for language, eventual sexual scenes, etc.

Our Valentine's Day

Drabble #9- Hearts (revised)

Over the years, Trunks' opinion of sex morphed quite a bit.

In the beginning—back when he was still trying to play the stereotypical, annoyingly-perverted, heterosexual pre-teenager—he hadn't thought very highly of it. Sex, or even just thinking of sex made him... uncomfortable. Of course, he's not quite sure if he could blame his discomfort solely on the girls and his forced persona—given that he really had no business engaging in such activities at that age in the first place—but even as he grew older, the act of maintaining his "womanizer" reputation was more chore-like than anything else. Everyone expected him to be that way, and it simply did not make sense to be anything else.

Eventually he stopped trying to kid himself, and sex became something a bit more positive. It had been a bit difficult finding partners to experiment with, considering the fact that he was trying to avoid the boys at his school who personally knew him, but with Cayon's support (A.K.A connections), he found that sex could be fucking nice. Who would've thought that the missing piece to his sexuality puzzle was simply someone else's dick? Sex was exhilarating. Sex was exciting. Sex was only for a moment, but so addictive that he couldn't wait to do it again. He finally understood why all the other boys his age were so obsessed with it.

Then along came Goten and sex had changed entirely again. Exhilarating... exciting... those words just weren't enough.

He likes to blame the change on the fact that Goten was simply the first person that he actually let... inside of his body, but he knows that it's not true. It was not the physical aspect that changed so much (aside from the whole penetration thing), because sex would always feel good as long as the partner was adequate enough, and his body would always feel the act itself was too short and would always crave more.

He thinks that the most notable difference was that sex was no longer so... two-dimensional? Sure, the aspect itself was the same, but the emotions and feelings he would experience were oh so different. He found that even after the physical act was completed, the warmth inside of him remained. The elation could remain for hours, whether he was cursing Goten's name while rushing to make it to class on time or dozing off curled up in his arms. It was good, it was there, and it was fucking wonderful. He couldn't deny that sex with the person you love was better than any substitute. The desire; the passion; simply knowing Goten's body—knowing what made him tick and what made him shiver, was better than anything else he could imagine.

That's why even through his panting and lidded, clouded eyes, he could clearly see Goten, mid-thrust, gritting his teeth and trying but failing to conceal a wince.

Trunks' eyes flew open, his lust dissipating as he quickly sat up and pushed Goten back by his shoulders, paying no mind to the slight twinge he felt when he slipped out of his body.

"What's wrong?" He asked his voice too urgent for their given states and the lingering, passionate atmosphere. He was too worried to care about that though. He was worried, because nothing should hurt, at least not in the kind of sex they had. So, it had to be something else.

Goten was clearly surprised, and it took him a decent moment to string together his scrambled reply: "Nothing is wro—"

"Goten," Trunks said, a cool grip of panic beginning to seep into his core. "Tell me what is wrong."

"It's just a little chest pain. It's nothing serious, babe." His attempts to remedy the situation was pointless of course, seeing as how the moment the word 'chest' left his lips, Trunks was on his feet and almost completely dressed.

"But Trunks I'm still har—"

He was promptly cut off by a shirt colliding with his face.

XXX

The trip to the hospital was unusually quick, but that was simply due to necessary circumstance. They did not have an automobile, mainly because at the time, it seemed pointless to have one when everything they needed was within walking distance.

How stupid that decision was! Walking would not get them there nearly fast enough!

So, with a squawking Goten thrown over his shoulder, Trunks flew.

It was not too risky, given that it was dark and thus hid them from any incredulous eyes. It was more difficult once they reached the brightly-lit, and rather populated hospital building (despite the late hour), and even once he landed, what would he do with Goten? He couldn't expect him to actually walk all the way up to the entrance. What if it made his condition worse?

Then he saw a wheelchair, dropped Goten into it. He tilted it back so as to prevent the Son from trying to escape and sprinted up to the automatic double-doors. His heart was pounding as he raced into the lobby, and it wouldn't stop no matter how he tried to tell himself to calm down. Goten was fine, he was just bringing him here as a precaution. Besides, Goten was young, so the odds of his pain being related to his heart was slim, right? Right?

All his efforts were in vain though as he nearly snapped on the receptionist lady, who spoke and directed them towards the waiting room with a calm, borderline-bored tone. What the hell was wrong with her? Why the hell was she not panicking? Did she not know she was working in the emergency room? Did she not know that Goten could be dying? Did she not understand that he was Trunks Brief, heir to the richest company in the world, and that his lover, fiancé, soon-to-be husband, and future father of the seven children Trunks did not want was in danger?!

Trunks did not even realize he was pacing until a hand grabbed his wrist and tugged him into a very snug lap. Pale arms wrapped around his waist, and a head pressed itself into his back. Goten released a breath, and he could feel the heat of it through his shirt.

"Stop worrying," he heard. "I said I'm fine."

Trunks didn't believe him, naturally. He was no doctor, but he knew that injuries involving the chest could be serious (or become serious), and he just wasn't willing to take that chance.

He could calm down, though. His freaking out probably wasn't what Goten needed right now anyway.

So, with a deep breath, he leaned back against his injured Son, and tried but failed to ignore the stares that they were no doubt receiving in the less than empty waiting room. While wrapped in his arms, Trunks noticed that Goten was sweating, and it could no longer hide behind the disguise of their love-making. Seeing as how Goten was... calm now, and he hadn't actually needed to move since Trunks brought him here, sweating was not normal.

Now that he thought about it, Goten had been acting strangely as of late. Nothing drastic, more just that he wasn't as annoyingly enthusiastic as he normally tended to be. Trunks didn't think much of it, or rather he didn't have time to think much of it, what with flying back and forth from America to Japan, attending his classes and meetings with his mother, all while trying to find time to complete his homework, and watch beneficial online seminars, and take notes on those seminars, and study for his upcoming exams, and actually play a part in the planning and media-related issues of his impending wedding. He made an effort not to completely ignore his fiancé, often times calling him when he had the chance and sending text messages even at the most inconvenient times.

Why, just the other day Goten had chosen to send him highly inappropriate text messages while he was in a meeting, and Trunks—albeit reluctantly—humored him. He had found it a little strange, seeing as how normally at that time on a Tuesday, Goten would be too busy working to have time to hold a conversation (especially one as provocative as that one, given that he worked around children all day), so he had safely assumed that Goten had just taken the day off.

It never dawned on him that there was a reason why.

He felt Goten breathe out a sigh against his neck, and relaxed his body, not even realizing that he'd tensed up again. Now was not the time to freak out again. Now was the time to comfort his beloved in a blanket of calm and poised demeanor, and to focus on ignoring the onlookers who really should mind their own fucking business.

XXX

Fifteen minutes later, they were called back.

Twenty-five minutes later, they were holding hands, and Trunks was pretending he didn't notice the uneasy look on Goten's face while the doctor examined him.

Forty minutes later, the doctor returned to give them the heart-breaking news that Goten was suffering from a particularly bad case of gas.

"What," Trunks said, his voice flat.

"Just a bit of gas," the doctor repeated for him, irritatingly straight-faced. "It's not uncommon and can often times appear to be more serious than it is. I can prescribe medication if you'd like, but over-the-counter drugs and plenty of water should be sufficient."

Even with the repeat, it still took a moment for it too really hit Trunks, and by then Goten had already begun to fill the room with his obnoxious laughter, clutching his chest all the way. All Trunks could do was groan, drop his head into his hands, and hate his life.

The doctor politely told them to take their time, and promptly left.

"Wow, I really came to the hospital over chest gas. They made us wait like an hour to tell us that I had chest gas!" Goten exclaimed, still giggling like a child.

"Shut up, Goten," Trunks muttered, his face still hidden in his hands. "I can't believe I was worried about you."

"I'm sorry, babe," Goten said, wiping a joyful tear from his eye. "I didn't mean to scare you."

Trunks said nothing, still too mortified to look up, even when Goten grew silent.

His silence did not last long. "But really, what happened back there? I can't remember ever seeing you freak out like that."

'Well obviously not considering last time you were unconscious and about to spin off the road in my car.'

That situation had been different of course, and yet that same cool grip of panic had started to plague him even now. He knew why he had overreacted, of course. That didn't necessarily mean he wanted to say it, especially while he was still wallowing in self-pity over his humiliating blunder.

But he had already decided he would not hide from Goten anymore, so he had too say it. "It would've been my fault."

"What?" Goten's eyes popped. "How could my chest congestion be your fault?"

"I'm not talking about that! I'm saying, what if it wasn't just congestion?" Trunks snapped his eyes up to meet where Goten still sat surprised on the examination table. "What if it was something else, something more serious? I wouldn't have noticed a thing!"

Trunks wanted to stop—he was practically attacking Goten, in a doctor's office, no less. He couldn't stop though; the words he hadn't even known he'd been holding back were spilling out. "I knew you took off work that day—even though you never do that. I knew you weren't acting like yourself, and yet I continued on with my stupid agendas like it didn't matter! Like you didn't matter! I could be in Japan right now signing pointless documents, or attending some useless class, or taking some pictures for a stupid magazine while you're over here hurting."

And it would always be like this, because once they were married, Goten wouldn't have anyone else to rely on except for Trunks. And Trunks would always be busy, too caught up in marketing deals, and coordinating meetings, and deliberating ideas and pitches. He would always be too busy to notice when Goten wasn't well. He would always be clouded by his own stress and weariness to notice that the person most important to him needed him.

And it wasn't fair, especially not when Goten put him before everything. Goten didn't need to have such an obvious clue such as flinching during sex to know that Trunks was hurt, or sick, or even simply upset. He always knew how to take care of him, and treat him when he was injured, and say what needed to be said to make him feel better. He knew how to simply be there.

Trunks looked away. He couldn't bear to witness the shift in Goten's eyes, the way they would soften as he tried to comfort him, as if he were actually suffering, and not just dealing with reality.

"I'm sorry." I'm sorry I'm yelling at you. I'm sorry I didn't notice you were hurt. I'm sorry I've been too busy to care. I'm sorry that I'm going to be the worst husband ever.

"Come here."

Trunks ignored him.

"Come here, Trunks." His voice was stern, like he was commanding a child. Trunks probably should have been annoyed, but he couldn't find it in him to deny Goten a second time.

He reluctantly stood from his seat and took the few necessary paces until he was standing in front of Goten's dangling legs on the examination table. He didn't even get the chance to look away ashamedly, however, for Goten had immediately wrapped his arms around his waist, and effortlessly lifted him up to straddle his lap.

Trunks was still too dazed from the sudden movement to speak, and Goten took advantage of his silence. "I'm fine."

"But—"

"I. Am. Fine," Goten said again. "You're freaking out even though you know it wasn't that serious."

"But what if it was—"

"It wasn't, Trunks. And even if it was, you'd be the first person I call, and demand take care of me."

"You shouldn't have too. I should be able to tell—"

"Don't you think that's a little much to ask of anyone? We are only human after all... kinda. It's unfair to expect yourself to be able to judge my health at a moment's glance."

Trunks held back a childish huff. "You seem to do so just fine..."

Goten blinked as if he was confused, before he rolled his eyes and smiled. "Trunks we are two very different people if you haven't noticed. One day you'll be a big bad CEO and who will be the one slacking then, huh? I gotta have some talents too, don't you think? Being intoned to people and taking care of them is a part of me—not everyone is like that. Besides, growing up with a single mother who constantly tries to downplay her own wellbeing so as not to worry her kids kind of forces you to learn how to read people.

"And really, you aren't giving yourself enough credit." Goten nuzzled his nose. "I mean, you got me here inhumanely quickly once you thought something was wrong. And you didn't flip out on that lady at the counter or the other people in the waiting room even though I know you wanted to. And you didn't freak out as much as you did earlier even though you were worried about me. That has to count for something, right?"

"I guess..." Trunks muttered, mainly because he didn't know what else to say.

Goten rubbed the back of his head. "And well, I guess it's kinda my fault. You probably wouldn't have freaked so much if I had said something before."

"Yeah, you are kind of a dick."

Goten chuckled, and annoyingly nuzzled their noses again. "I'm sorry. Forgive me?"

Trunks sighed. They weren't arguing, but if they were, he certainly would have lost. He couldn't make Goten understand, and there was no point in trying, but he did feel a bit better he supposed. He understood Goten's argument over the severity of the situation, and while he's a bit embarrassed about how he overreacted, he did not regret bringing him here. He was glad that he had the peace of mind that Goten genuinely was okay.

But what about when it was serious? What would he do then?

Trunks didn't want to think about it, and right now, he supposed he didn't have too. "I can't forgive you if I was never mad. Just... I don't care how minor it is, you have to tell me when something is wrong. I can't catch these kinds of things like you do."

Goten hummed in agreement, then arched his brow in serious contemplation.

"Well, I guess I do have a bit of a problem right now..."

"What?" Trunks perked up, eager to help his beloved if only to further ease his conscience.

"Well you see..." Goten said at the same moment that he shifted Trunks just a bit in his lap.

Then, there was an unmistakable and rather suggestive hardness brushing against his thigh.

His chest was the part that was injured, so Trunks felt no remorse for pained yelp he received when he swatted Goten upside the head.

End