Hey you pretty people, how it goes?
Okay I know it took forever (and I mean FOREVER, and yes it's quite small, but it's sweet and sugary and oh so cute. And it's meant to be an epilogue as it is, and I don't like it when those things are as long as the Oxford Dictionary. So, here you go, the final chapter about our two favourite ducklings.
Thank you for reading and until next time!
The illusion of time flying by was broken as Goten Son, eighteen and a half years old, opened his eyes to the world. For a moment all they did was stare at the ceiling, not really seeing but rather coming into focus. During this time his mind was swarming with thoughts. Good ones of course, but there were a few rotten apples among the bunch. Time to break them down, starting with the ones that didn't churn his stomach like he was drunk at sea.
He rolled onto his side and there was the first pleasant thought of the day. Trunks was lying next to him and was still very much asleep. His mouth was open an inch or so and a thin bubble of saliva was expanding and contracting with every breath that he took. Quite the amusing sight, if not a tad disgusting.
What was there to say about Trunks? Well, lots of things, actually. For starters, he had been Goten's best friend and partner in life for the past year and a half. Merely stating this in his mind once again baffled Goten with how fast things could go, how easy it was to let time slip through your fingers when you were making the best of it. Trunks was the reason that Goten had allowed himself to throw the concept out of the window, and for that Goten was grateful.
The past eighteen months had, figuratively of course, gone by without a hitch. Goten had a shelf on his bookcase where he kept his romantic novels. Granted, he didn't have a lot of them, favoring fantasy and horror did that to you, but he was no stranger to the sappy tales of men and women kept apart by time, distance or social class. The premise was always the same too; two star-crossed lovers still find a way to come together, or otherwise spend a night of passion together. All of this happened after they had endured obstacles too diverse to keep track of.
Goten liked drawing this parallel. Not because of the similarities, but because of the differences. It had taken the two of them a little while to get together, yes, but none of that was really due to what one would call obstacles. And once they had made a commitment it was eerie to see how well they worked together. Sure, there was the occasional lover's spat, but it was never over not keeping promises or forgetting things that needed remembering. No, the last time they had had a serious argument was when they couldn't agree on what mode to play on next in BlasterSmash. Goten wanted a plain old Death Match, Trunks wanted to play Seek and Destroy. That was a rough day, but in the end all was settled with tea and cookies, courtesy of Bulla.
Oh, and something that had happened in the privacy of Trunks's bedroom, but that was to be kept separate from family matters.
So, all things considered, there were times where Goten found it hard to believe that they had managed to stay so consistent throughout their relationship. He had considered the question why many times over, but in the end he could draw no conclusion. There were too many factors involved. Though he did know what the main one was; they accepted each other as they were without fail.
Proof of this was hanging mere inches away from his head. Goten could spy it from the corner of his eye. It was a poster for a band named the Broken Heartstrings. It depicted four young men playing in a practice room. It was the poster for their first official tour to promote their debut album. They marketed themselves as a blues band, but Goten being the frontman would call them crossover. Their songwriting process had remained the same since he had joined, but new life experiences had given Banshee a different tune to play. She sounded much more joyful now. At times she did not even want to belt the anthem of the hurt and lonely. Sometimes she just wanted to rock out.
His mother had been telling him for years how his aspirations to be a musician and a writer were nothing but financial insecurities waiting to happen. Last year he had told her off good and she had finally gotten the message. Gohan would occasionally ask how school was going, though Goten never gave him a conclusive answer. But not Trunks. He cared as little for his education as Goten did. Trunks had been his biggest fan throughout his musical career thus far and he always tried to stimulate Goten's creative drive. Not really strange, considering how Trunks had forsaken the family line of work, one that thrived on the intelligence of those involved, to make his money by using his imagination. He was also doing quite well in that.
Goten let out a happy sigh and sat up straight. Most of the sleep was gone from his mind now and he felt ready to take on the day. It was going to be a busy one, for him and for Trunks both. The two of them had managed to make a career out of their talents quite early on. Or they were on the brink of doing so, at least. Goten had managed to sell the first draft of his novel to a publisher located in the city. The second draft was due in two weeks and he still had to tweak it a little bit, but he was sure that it would be received positively. Today though, was a day that he had been looking forward to for a long time.
But first things first. The rumble in his belly told him that it was time for breakfast and by now he was awake enough to hoist himself out from under the covers. Just as he was about to do this, something pulled him back and the waist.
Trunks's arm was snaked around his midriff. Goten made another attempt at escaping, but when he felt Trunks nuzzle into his hair all the muscles in his body appeared to go limp.
"Don't go yet," Trunks muttered behind him.
"I can't. Too awake."
"You excited?"
"Uh-huh." He rolled on his other side and faced his boyfriend. Goten could just spy the gleaming blue behind the curtain of lavender that was trying to conceal it. He reached out and brushed the bangs away, tucking them behind Trunks's ear. He couldn't help a smile.
"Don't worry, it'll be fine," Trunks said. He propped himself up on an elbow. He free hand reached out to Goten's chest, gentle fingers running over the skin that was still sore. Goten grimaced a little; Mizuki had taken her time stabbing him bloody with that machine of hers only a few days ago. It was definitely worth the end result, though. It was an alarm clock with the numbers facing backwards as well as the hands. Because of course he had to get something to commemorate the sale of his first novel.
"I'm not worried," Goten replied. "I'm just happy. Today's gonna be great!"
"That is the truth, my dear sir."
"And now this dear sir of yours is going to fix us some breakfast. You can stay in bed a little while longer if you'd like, but we have to be going in an hour at best."
Trunks's reply was lost as he muffled it into the pillow. Goten got out of bed and started getting dressed. He had to take extra care, because he was not used to wearing anything but casual clothing. Since the first part of the day required him to act as if he were refined and representable, he had to go in suit and tie. He despised suits and ties.
He struggled with the necktie for well over ten minutes before Trunks got up to help him, laughing his ass off. Goten glared at him as Trunks began to dress himself, chuckling all the while.
They met Bulma and Bulla at the breakfast table. Bulla was in her usual good cheer. Goten listened to her as she rambled about what the day had in store for her as Bulma served him a cup of coffee.
Trunks joined them fifteen minutes later and he too looked like he was ready for a red carpet event. As soon as Bulma got him in her sights she began to coo and make other noises one makes when seeing something adorable. Trunks did his best to shrug her off when she went about doing his hair, with some saliva to really give it the proper style. Pleading blue eyes found Goten's, but the other boy just ignored them. Why on earth would he deny himself that kind of amusement?
Breakfast was eaten quickly and after that it was straight into the back of Vegeta's car. The man didn't look happy to be appointed as chauffeur, but Goten knew that he would do it either way. Bulma would twist his balls off if he didn't.
"So you are saying that you both have little experience when it comes to publishing?"
"Yes sir, that is correct."
"And do you believe that you can understand the mechanics of the trade? I do hope that you realize that signing a paper isn't all there is to it."
"Yes sir, we realize that." Trunks felt Goten squeeze his hand, a little tug at his flesh that told him his boyfriend was beginning to get riled up. Trunks could understand that perfectly well. The guy sitting across from them was underestimating them.
"That's right. We have already looked over the contracts and we are aware of our rights and obligations," Trunks added. "Knowing all of this we do intend to carry on with the path ahead of us."
The CEO of Nimbus Publishing regarded the two of them over the rim of his spectacles. The man had made quite a display of himself, sitting on the edge of his desk and his necktie undone. Perhaps he had hoped to come across aloof or younger than he actually was. Trunks estimated him to be in his fifties, but his demeanor implied that he was a fresh college dropout. In his hand he held the pages to the children's book that Goten and Trunks had written together. Goten had seen to the story and Trunks had brought it to life with his drawings.
"Fine. It seems that you boys are confident enough to go through with this. But I do have to press again that signing a contract is no walk in the park."
"Sir," Goten interjected. "You might not be aware of this, but I signed a deal to have my first novel published. Trunks has stood by me throughout the entire process. We know what we are doing."
"It seems that way," the CEO agreed. "I've read through your work and I have to say that I am impressed. And take it from me that it is not often that the CEO himself handles these kinds of tasks. Admittedly, it was your name that persuaded me to take it up myself, Mr. Briefs."
Trunks nodded and swallowed the lump in his throat. That wasn't what he had wanted, coasting on the success of his last name.
"If you two young men agree to the terms stated, I would like to offer you a contract with Nimbus Publishing for three books. The one I am holding right now will be the first of those three. According to the contractual obligations you will have to provide two more books within four years."
"That would be acceptable," Goten answered.
"Well, with that out of the way I would like to welcome you to the Nimbus family," the CEO said, cracking a smile. "I expect you boys to do quite well."
Trunks wanted to address the man on his continuous use of the word 'boys' but decided against it. For now they would keep the man as their friend and once they had seen their contract through to the end they would start publishing for themselves.
And so it was that The Little Duckling was pushed into the publishing trajectory. It was a familiar tale to Trunks and Goten, a story about a white duck who seems weird at first glance, but finds love and acceptance with his peers when they see his isn't all that quirky. Not only familiar, but also relatable.
Their waiter was a handsome one, a freshly groomed beard framing his face and a twinkle in his eye that promised that he was up to no good. Both Goten and Trunks were staring at him without realising it. As soon as he had brought them their orders they broke into a fit of giggles and whispers.
They were ecstatic and had every right to be. Their book had sold and they were looking at a consistent income of money for the next four years. The one downside that could be found about the ordeal was something that was bothersome mostly to Trunks.
"I just wish that he hadn't been so quick on the uptake just because of my name, though," he said, sipping from his coffee. "I had already assumed something like that would happen, but it still doesn't make me happy."
"I understand," Goten said, smiling. "But hey, at least we have a start now. And we were planning on going into publishing ourselves as it is. You could take up a pen name then."
Trunks considered this and returned his boyfriend's smile. "I suppose you're right. We don't really have anything to complain about." He bit a cookie in two and resumed talking in a spray of crumbs. "So, you ready for the rest of the day? We have to be at the Budokai Theatre in three hours, right?"
Goten nodded and wiped the mess Trunks had made from the table. His knees were suddenly shaking; he had battled the thought of it to the back of his mind to make room for their contract signing. Now it as pooling back into his brain.
"Don't worry, you'll do great and so will the rest of the guys," Trunks said, picking up on his anxiety. "Besides, you have the best opening act you can wish for, so everyone will leave with their faces full of wonder and their heads depressed, because they're sure as hell not gonna see anything that awesome ever again."
Goten kissed him. His lips tasted like coffee. And he still felt like fainting.
"I knew you guys would kill it!"
Trunks felt the words die on his tongue; Sadie had stolen them right out of his mouth. Goten was as pale as a sheet of paper and he appeared to be wobbling. Trunks moved to intercept him and wrapped his arms around him. He placed a kiss on top of those black locks and sighed.
The Broken Heartstrings had just played their first headlining show ever. They had already booked a small tour across the country to promote their debut album, but tonight push had finally come to shove and the tour had kicked off with grandeur. As a special occasion the Heartstrings were supported by none of than the Gaslight Anthem. When Goten had gotten the phone call to confirm it he had cried until his eyes were red and swollen.
And now all there was left to do was bask in the glow. That and one more thing.
"Sadie, would you mind getting me something to drink? I'm parched," Goten asked, colour seeping back into his cheeks. Sadie nodded, her now green hair flying about her as she dashed across the backstage area. People were walking around and about, most of them familiar.
Once the drinking had been seen to, Goten entwined his hand with Trunks's and squeezed it. Trunks nodded. It was time for the announcements.
"Can we have everybody's attention please?" Goten raised his voice above the murmur of the crowd. Silence fell and the faces of their friends and families turned to them.
Trunks scraped his throat. "As you may all know, Goten and I have been busy writing our own children's book. Well we managed to finish after all, and this morning it was bought by Nimbus Publishing."
They took the mandatory hold for applause and positive cheer. They shook some hands, hugged some people and waited for the storm to die down.
"Yes, thank you, thank you," Goten said. "Also we have something else that we would like to announce. I think it's best to go out and just say it: we're kinda, sorta, somewhat going to.. Oh to hell with it, we're getting married."
The squeals, mutters an outcries of joy were nothing compared to Sadie's response.
"I freakin' fuckin' friggin' knew it! So I'll ask you again, who am I?"
Trunks and Goten laughed and spoke in unison. "Doctor Love. Either that, or the Great Goddess of Matchmaking. Whatever floats your boat."
Beaker took to their announcement with a loud quack. It was just the response they'd been hoping for.
Goten leaned his head onto Trunks's and tossed some more breadcrumbs into the pond. The ducks swarmed at them and fought over them, but Beaker stood by their side in peace, proudly munching on his full slice.
They stood watching the ducks for a while, not really saying anything, but their silence was broken when Goten spotted something from the corner of his eye.
Beaker wasn't alone anymore. Not alone at all. An army of ducklings stood by his side, all of them pressing close into his white feathers. Although Goten would wager the earnings of his novel that Beaker wasn't a he at all.
He squeaked with uncontained joy and nudged Trunks in the ribs. Dazed, Trunks followed Goten's pointing finger. His response, though heartfelt, was more sober.
"Huh, well you don't see that every day."
"Trunks, look!" Goten said. One duckling in particular was white as snow. It snuggled between its brothers and sisters, content and protected.
Maybe one day it would be big enough for its own full slice.