Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Time's Lessons Learned ❯ Answer Time ( Chapter 9 )

Time's Lessons Learned

 

Answer Time

 

Summary: Enlisted as a tutor, Gohan goes to Future Trunks apartment to 'iron out details' of his employment for the class, but really it's the chance they've both been looking for to say what they have always wanted. Does Gohan feel the same?

 

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Ball Z, Akira Toriyama does. This story is based on the doujinshi Our Time by Manya and Minea. Thanks to Lord Truhania at Boxer and Rice http://www.gohanxtrunks.net for help and encouragement of this story.

 

 

No sooner had he set foot on the welcome mat and raised his hand to knock, the latch clicked. He flinched, frowning that Future Trunks could at least keep up the pretense of normalcy by letting him ring the doorbell. As the dual latches clicked open, and the door was pulled slightly to, a pair of blue eyes peered from around the door before the strong hand pulled the door completely inwards.

 

"Took you long enough," Future Trunks answered, a large smile spreading across his face. Far different and less guarded then his previous demeanor, it took Gohan by surprise. Instead of the two piece suit, the comfortable corduroy pants and pullover sweater bespoke casual comfort.

 

"Isn't this a bit rich for the blood of a high school teacher?" Gohan asked, with a slight smile. Despite his attempt to keep calm, he felt his pulse race even faster than it had in the school. There they had the barrier of student and teacher to hide behind, but those walls were broken down leaving Gohan feeling far more vulnerable then ever.

 

"Well are you going to just stand out there staring at me, or are you going to come in, Gohan? It's been ages," Future Trunks laughed, reaching out to grasp his hand. Gohan felt relief flooding him, and the sudden normalcy of two friends long reunited temporarily eclipsed any other fears. That is till he clasped Future trunks hand and stepped over the threshold into the apartment. Leaning around Gohan, Future Trunks then closed the door and latched it securely.

 

Again frozen stiff Gohan's dark eyes were the only body part that moved rapidly surveying the apartment's contents. He could recognize the bland colors of a furnished apartment, with few personal touches. Paintings with abstract themes overlooked a high ceiling, while he stood on a polished parcade floor looking towards a sliding door and a huge picture window overlooking the city. Through vertical strips of a set of blinds he peered at the orange and red sunset drenched sky fading to maroon. Dying rays of the sun cast the large overstuffed leather sofa and armchair in brilliant gold.

 

"Gohan, are you all right?" Future Trunks interrupted, his silhouette eclipsing the panoramic view of Satan City. Only the bright blue gleam of his eyes offered Gohan any sense of grounding, aided only by the pressure of his firm hands on Gohan's shoulders.

 

"I... I guess so. I think I need to sit down," Gohan breathed, inhaling a burst of Trunks scent. Musk and potent it crossed his nostrils and burned its way into his memory like nothing else did at that moment. He was very aware of the sound of his own blood rushing through his ears, and the tingling of Trunks ki aura, smelling of a gust of pure wind after a storm.

 

"You kept the jacket," Future Trunks answered, rubbing Gohan's shoulders lightly. Eye to eye they stood, and Gohan was well aware of the difference from looking up at him ages ago. He could barely speak he felt so overcome with the need to simply stand there and absorb the reality of the moment.

 

"And the scarf," Gohan answered, reaching a numb hand up to slide a finger along the piece of silk draped around Trunks neck. His finger caught on the embroidered Gyu-mao sigil festooning it, wondering if it would be like the texture of the lavender hair slightly falling into those azure eyes.

 

"Why don't you sit down. Anything I can get you to drink?" Future Trunks asked, sliding around an awestruck Gohan to let his hand rest on his waist. Another jolt of odd tingling settled on Gohan and he didn't know if he dared move from where he stood. Something held him prisoner, and he couldn't bring himself to move.

 

"I... um... water would be good..." he said.

 

"C'mon, you don't have to worry. I've got plenty of soda stocked in the fridge. Unless you were expecting wine."

 

"I don't drink," Gohan answered awkwardly.

 

"Gohan, relax. I'm not going to bite," Future Trunks rubbed his back gently. "You can at least sit down and act like you're glad to see me again."

 

"I'm sorry," Gohan apologized.

 

"Don't apologize. Just sit down and breath will you," the other demi urged him, his face lined with worry at how frightened Gohan seemed. Although Future Trunks seemed very calm and collected, Gohan could sense a wave of nervous energy buzzing between them that spoke the contrary.

 

"He's as scared as I am," Gohan suddenly realized. The hand on his back trembled, then pushed him towards the sofa. Inhaling deeply Gohan let himself be led over to sit down. Automatically he reached up to take off the jacket.

 

"No, you can keep it on if you want to. I'll be right back," Future Trunks said, his voice receding into a small echo as he entered the kitchen. Only a half wall separated it from the sitting room area. To the left a short hallway led to what must be the rest of the apartment. Thoughts of what the bedroom and bathroom must look like brought another hot flush to his face, and he cursed himself for seeming so juvenile in front of his friend.

 

His friend, or soon to be something else, Gohan mentally added, sitting down on the sofa. He let his bag drop to the floor, and then leaned back to close his eyes. His head made a small thump as he let it hit the wall, and then repeated it.

 

"Dammit Gohan, relax," he thought annoyed. "You're acting like you did around Videl. But this isn't Videl, this is Trunks."

 

"Here you go. I put it over ice, in a glass. You always liked it better then from the can," Future Trunks interrupted, drawing him out of his self-reproach. Opening his eyes he saw Future Trunks leaning over with a glass of soda in either hand, one extended towards him. He sat down next to Gohan, the sofa shifting as he lowered himself.

 

"Thank you," Gohan said, taking the glass, and feeling the moisture slick against his already sweaty hand. He gratefully hid his face behind it, taking a huge swig to quell his parched throat.

 

 

"It's been forever, Gohan," Future Trunks said warmly, leaning back and crossing his legs. He sampled his own drink, and then waited patiently. Those azure eyes never left his, their expression somewhere between nervous anticipation and concern. Real and genuine worry for his well being, Gohan realized with a warm glow inside. Suddenly he felt as if part of him had turned to mush, and his throat welcomed another drought of soda tickling past it.

 

"I was just wondering... why..." Gohan asked, then squeezed his eyes shut in self-reproach. "Sorry that's not how I meant it. I just..."

 

"I'm the one who should apologize pulling a stunt like that, but the look on your face was worth it," Future Trunks smiled with a bit of mischief. For a second Gohan saw the resemblance between him and his younger counterpart, and it spooked him.

 

"You might have warned me," Gohan said with some reproach. "All this time, and you shocked the daylights out of me in class... do you have any idea how that feels?"

 

"I'm sorry Gohan, I really am. I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable," Future Trunks apologized, his face melting into a worried expression. "I was following Mom's plan about helping take the attention off you, that I got carried away."

 

"Well," Gohan said, trying to repress the sudden urge to chuckle. "It did work... they paid more attention to you then me."

 

Relief filled Future Trunks worried face, and his eyes widened to a more relaxed width. "I'm glad. I still couldn't help myself. I mean it took a while to figure out HOW to say hello after so long. I mean... it has been ages... and well..."

 

"You didn't know what to say anymore than I did," Gohan nodded, sighing with relief as well. Tension dropped a notch, and the two of them shared another sip and a look at one another over their crystal glasses.

 

"Well, would you believe I've been thinking for years about just what I'd say to you when we saw each other again?" Future trunks asked. Gohan felt tension in his thighs, especially when Future Trunks drained his glass, and then rose from the sofa. By now the last rays of the sun had faded, leaving only the varied bands of deep red and yellow panting the sunset over Satan City. In front of them the black cutouts of the buildings gleamed alive with tiny lights from each window.

 

"You must have had a busy time fighting the androids... how is everything?" Gohan asked.

 

"A whole new world," Future Trunks related, slowly orbiting the sitting room. His reflection was slightly blurred in the top of the polished coffee table he set his emptied glass upon.

 

"You'd mentioned about helping rebuild it the last time we saw each other."

 

"It's incredible. Still there's a lot of work to be done. But there's not many enemies to fight unless you include the changing of the seasons and rebuilding a financial system from the ground up," Future Trunks confessed. He leaned his forearm against the glass of the picture window, peering out at the mess of trees obscuring the few blocks over. Then he turned, and rested his shoulder against it so he could partly glance at Gohan.

 

"The challenges of modern society," Gohan commented.

 

"The people's souls are healing. Wounds that you can't see as well as those you can. The whole world's slowly getting back on its feet. It's like someone who's been close to death recovering vitality," Future Trunks murmured, his profile lit by the twinkling city lights outside. He had not bothered to turn on the lamp in the room, so Gohan leaned over to switch the one by the sofa on.

 

"Is there something that you're not telling me, Trunks," Gohan asked. A small chuckle answered him.

 

"Always were thinking ahead of me one step, Gohan. Even in sparring or life outside it," Future Trunks answered, turning his head to stare at Gohan. Slowly the dark haired demi approached, seeing the slump of Future Trunk's shoulders. For a moment he seemed lost and sad, a refuge who had been adrift on a temporal ocean.

 

"the time in between your visits kept getting longer. Till you didn't come back. It's been four years, Trunks. Is it something to do with the number of timelines you create? How much energy did it take to get you back here this time?"

 

"Mom's done the math. I'm sure you must have seen the equations yourself, Gohan," Future Trunks murmured, glancing away. He rested the flats of his palms against the glass, peering over the city that had so much life after so much death.

 

"It's just that from that look on your face, you look like you've lost something..." Gohan dared to say. Daring to close the gap, Gohan reached out a hand to touch his shoulder, then stopped to let it drop by his side.

 

"Gohan, I can't go back to the past anymore," Future Trunks answered, still with his back facing Gohan.

 

"You... then my hypothesis was right," Gohan answered.

 

"Spoken like a true scientist, Gohan," Future Trunks sadly chuckled, turning slightly around. Something moist glistened in his eyes, kicking the tension back up to its previous level and beyond. At that moment Gohan cursed his intelligence, wishing the great leaps in his intuition hadn't foreseen such a possibility. IT was the answer to the unspoken question of why it had taken four years for this visit now.

 

"Trunks... is there anything I... can do?" Gohan asked, voice quaking. He could feel the misery rolling off the other demi in great waves. Whatever emotions that Future Trunks had shuttered away now were free to roam in the apartment. How long had he held back from admitting such things the other times he had visited?

 

This question prompted Future Trunks to spin completely around. Two sets of eyes met, holding one another captive. What could Gohan say or do to something like this. With all his genius he had no solution to the conundrum that presented itself. What price had Future Trunks paid to return here, and from the looks of all could he return?

 

"There is one thing, Gohan. You could... come back with me?" suggested the lavender haired demi. Gohan's heart throbbed fit to burst, mind spinning suddenly a million miles a second.

 

"But... but... my family... my friends here... I couldn't..." Gohan stammered, voice choked with emotion. "I'm sorry that I can't... please understand, Trunks."

 

Such a demand seemed so selfish and yet so heartfelt of a plea he wondered if he could refuse his friend anything. It seemed so unfair that the one chance he had to make Trunks happy meant sacrificing his own life. Yet he was ready with all his heart to say yes, if not for those that needed him now.

 

The serious line of Trunks sternness broke into mirth, and he laughed, "I'm sorry, I was joking Gohan. I didn't mean it so seriously."

 

Mingled anger and relief filled Gohan, restarting his heart. Once aching and about to break to pieces it now pounded with frustration. Another nasty trick that Trunks had pulled, toying with his emotions like that. Did he seriously know the effect he had on Gohan? Unable to yell, but desperate to voice his discomfort he stammered, "That was downright horrid of you! You just looked so upset that I thought... I had to."

 

Although Trunks regarded him sternly, Gohan knew it was directed inwards. Now Trunks chest heaved up and down with his own exhalation. He closed the gap between them, resting his hand once more on Gohan's shoulder. By now the jacket he had worn lay forgotten draped over the couch, for the temperature in the room had grown feverishly torrid. Squeezing his shoulder, Trunks said gratefully, "Gohan... this must be my night to apologize. I just want you to know I really appreciate what you were almost willing to do for me. The fact you wanted to help so much, it's part of what makes you someone... I care deeply for."

 

Gohan's ears burned hotly, his nostrils flaring wide with the rich scent of Future Trunks. All he could see immediately before him was the fall of silky hair lightly falling around that face he could see in his mind whenever he wished. A face that had smiled down from a dark place and made it lighter and easier to bear when all seemed lost. True to the message painted on the capsule he was hope incarnate. Stepping into Gohan's personal space so only six inches parted them Future Trunks then rasped, "There is something else that you can do for me now, Gohan."

 

"What is it, Trunks?" asked Gohan, inclining his head slightly. His own breath pulsed hot, his ki crackling invisibly to sweep over the blue surge reaching for him.

 

"Something that won't demand so much from you. You always think of others before yourself. But this is something that won't hurt at all," Future Trunks murmured, his eyes half shut as he leaned forwards.

 

"What is..." Gohan managed to ask before he was sharply jerked forwards. His chest collided with the solid one of the demi across from him. Words were silenced by the movement of lips over his, taking a taste all their own. Before he could fathom what was actually happening his hands of their own volition raised up from his sides to slid up Trunks back. Trembling Gohan brushed his fingers over the locks of Trunks hair, finally probing and determining they were softer then any silk he had touched.

 

His breath tasted warm and wet, full of tingling azure ki just like his eyes. Of perfect height that Gohan only had to lean up slightly Future Trunks swept forwards his tongue, sliding across his palate and ghosting into spaces unexplored by anyone except Videl. From head to toe the jolt snapped, arcing like a shock between two wires on a Jacob's ladder. Steadily climbing up sizzling to burst before another rode up the spires to follow.

 

Reluctantly the kiss ended, just as Gohan finally felt himself responding. Panting the two of them pressed foreheads together, Gohan resting his arms across Trunks strong ones still grasping him tightly. Not looking at him Gohan wrestled for control of his already sprinting metabolism. All he could think to say was, "B... but Trunks... I thought I... you... only did that with girls..."

 

A quick laugh bubbled up from Future Trunks throat, chastising and relieving at the same time, "Maybe so, but it's had wonders already. You don't know how long I've been waiting to do that Gohan."

 

"What..." Gohan weakly panted, his hands dropping from Trunks shoulders. Before he could retreat in confusion to ponder and cogitate what he now felt, Future Trunks seized his arms and pulled him back into the circle of them.

 

"I just want to know Gohan. Hear me out. I just want to know something. Is it possible for you to think of having feelings for me as you do for..."

 

"I don't know," Gohan answered, ashamed of his meekness. Almost everything inside him told him he had nothing to fear, except for a small doubting voice that grew in volume. Warning him that it was wrong, and strange. Even though he had entertained the thought of being attracted to men as well as women, the fear of what his mother would say to this had stopped him from seriously entertaining it. He had a girlfriend Videl, or did he?

 

"Gohan, there's nothing wrong with it if you do. You know what you saw and felt that day, those years ago. What I was ashamed to admit. I only was, because you were so young, and such things weren't proper. But now you're old enough," Trunks panted.

 

"You... like me, you desire me," Gohan murmured, reluctant to leave Trunks embrace. He felt so comfortable pressed to the other demi Saiyan, that it frightened him.

 

"Do you feel the same Gohan? If you don't want this, please tell me now, and I'll stop," Trunks promised, cupping Gohan's cheek with his right hand. Softly he ran his thumb over the curve of Gohan's lip, then to his chin. So strong was the press of his hand and so warm that Gohan leaned further into it.

 

"I... do... like you that way," Gohan admitted, face blushing what must be crimson. "But I don't know what to make of it... I mean I did think I'd be attracted to men but I never met one that... not like I feel now... not like I do when I'm with you... here and now. I can't describe it."

 

"Gohan, we can move as fast or slow as you want," Future Trunks smiled, eyes bright with happiness. Gohan couldn't believe the beauty of their shine, and that he was responsible for it. He had never seen such a look from Videl. Perhaps the light in her eyes came close, but he felt a surge of guilt that the feelings invoked by her kiss were barely half of what he measured now. Only she could come close, and still he felt as if there was something missing.

 

"What do I tell Videl... my parents, I mean you're my teacher for crying out loud," Gohan groaned. "Don't be angry Trunks."

 

"I'm not angry Gohan. I'm so happy, don't you realize?" Trunks laughed, as if intoxicated. He beamed with something that shone from deep inside.

 

"What do we do? Tomorrow?" asked Gohan quietly.

 

"Don't worry Gohan. We have time. That is if you want this."

 

"I want to try," Gohan whispered, as Future Trunks again leaned in to press a kiss to the tip of his nose, and then seize the nape of his neck. "But I need time."

 

"Isn't that what dating is all about, Gohan?" Future Trunks smirked, leaning in for another kiss. Before the cityscape they held one another close, tasting and inhaling of one another. Deep droughts he tasted of Trunks till he knew his scent and feel for all time. There would be no more then the first kisses that night, but it was a prelude to something far more then he could anticipate. Or something that was destined to forever alter the lives of those around them.