Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ What You Need ❯ Part 4 ( Chapter 4 )

Genre: Angst/Romance

Rating: NC-17 for Gratuitous Sex and Language SM NON-CON

Warnings: Yaoi Gohan x Trunks -A present timeline Truhan. This is my first attempt at writing by myself, so excuse any mistakes, please.

Disclaimer- I don't own them. Just thought I'd take them out and let them play a bit in my world.

AN: Gohan is divorced from Videl and accepted a job at Capsule Corp. Has recently been made Vice-President of Research and Development now that Bulma has retired. Trunks and Gohan live in the Corporate High Rise. One floor away from each other, for only the reason of keeping them close to each other. Could happen....

What You Need

Part 4

(Trunks' POV)

OK... finish this last report and let Dratcher take it to type up and I'm done for yet another day.

It'll be a quiet night. They usually are these days.

Flipping off the desk lamp, I stretch the kinks out of my back from the long hours of riding my desk chair. Grabbing the file off my desk I hand it off to my personal assistant as I pass his desk. I smile at him and indicate I'm leaving for the night. He gives me a nod and starts perusing the file and I turn towards the elevator.

Gohan's there, politely holding the lift for me, like he usually does. I step in beside him and we stand silently as it ascends.

"I wanted to congratulate you, Mr. President," he tells me. "The Simmon's buyout was pure genius."

I flush slightly and nod at him. "Thank you, Gohan."

He returns the nod and then turns his eyes back to the doors. "Bulma has been considering introducing a new project for the research team," he goes on in that same courteously cool tone. "A new model of our electric engine. I was wondering if you would like to participate in the planning stage. Would you be interested?"

I nod. I am interested. Very. "Yes, Gohan. Absolutely."

"Good. I'll send over the specs first chance I get."

"Thank you, Gohan."

"You're welcome, Mr. President."

Inwardly I cringe at the title. It doesn't sound right coming from those beautiful lips.

The lift doors open at that point and he steps out, I wish Gohan a good evening and head to my rooms.

This is what it's like between us now. And I hate it.

So fucking polite. You could base a diplomatic instructors course around us. Mom is so pleased with us you can virtually hear the purring. She pulled me aside the other day, her face covered with her own version of maternal pride.

"I've noticed the pleasant change in your attitude towards working with Gohan ," she told me. "I just wanted to tell you that it's been noted. You've worked very hard to adjust to your role as President, Trunks. You should be proud of yourself."

I think I was pretty much able to convince her that I was pleased to hear that.

As I reach my apartment and step inside, I feel myself letting out a breath that I hadn't even realized I was holding.

Kami... I hate this.

I keep telling myself that what's done is done. There's no going back now.

I have this... guilt, you know? Every time that I look at Gohan. I feel so fucking bad about what happened.

He's not the same. He's changed.

Not in a bad way, don't get me wrong. He's not bitter or angry and he treats me more fairly and more graciously than he ever did before.

It's just... he's so damned sad all the time.

I can see it in his face, in his eyes. In the way he interacts with the staff.

Other people have noticed it too. It's not just me. The latest gossip floating in the secretary pool is that the head injury he sustained back during the laser accident was worse than originally thought.

Kami. If they knew the truth...

I've changed too, I guess. I'm not as social for one thing. Oh, don't get me wrong here, I haven't suddenly become a hermit. I still hang with Goten but...

I've kind of taken myself off the lover's loop for the time being.

Oh yeah... the latest dirt on that is that I finally broke my dick.

Classy guys. Real classy.

The fact is, I don't really want to be with anyone right now.

Except for Gohan and the chance of that happening is about as likely as me sprouting wings and halo.

I just wish there was some way to make it better again. To make him feel better.

I tried to broach the subject about a week or so after that last time. The night he told me he was sorry.

The last time he called me by my name.

I went to his office and kind of hovered in the doorway. I didn't walk in, I... guess I didn't want to give him the impression that I was going to come onto him again or anything.

He looked up from his desk at me and... oh shit, his eyes. The look in those eyes.

He'll never forgive himself.

Then again, I'll never forgive myself either so I guess that makes us even.

"Gohan, I..." I took a deep breath, struggling with it for a moment. "I wanted to tell you..."

He nodded at me. "I know, Mr. President. You don't have to say anything."

"Yes I do." I protested against that a bit. "I owe you an..."

He held up his hand, turning his face away for a moment. I could see the muscles on his jaw rippling as he worked his way through it.

Pretty fucking funny when you think about it. For a guy who always seemed to know what to say he was having a real hard time with talking to me.

"You owe me nothing." He said it so softly that I had to strain to hear it. "Nothing at all. I think that we should both do our best to put this behind us. I think... if we're to have any chance of working together successfully, we'll have to."

For a moment there, I thought he was dismissing me. You know? Not interested, Trunks, thanks but no thanks... But then he looked at me again and I saw my own pain mirrored in his eyes.

I couldn't take it, so I agreed.

That was nearly a month ago.

Shaking my head like I'm trying to dislodge the memories, I change into old jeans and sweatshirt, ready to settle in for the evening. Just as I'm about to microwave a meal, Goten calls and asks me to meet him for dinner.

I don't really have any reason not to go, so I change into a slightly better shirt and head out.

Goten's been a real pal over these last few weeks. He knows that something's up, but he also knows me well enough not to push the issue. He just does his usual thing, which is to be there. He drags me out of my apartment on a regular basis and forces fun down my throat. Sometimes Bra even gets in on the project, but most of the time its just Goten.

He doesn't know it, but he's kept me from falling apart.

He's at our usual table. Grinning and waving me over as I walk through the door. I can't help but smile back. There's just something about Goten that relaxes me. I've always wondered how Gohan and him could be so different. And why I couldn't have wanted him instead.

As I settle down to my meal, Goten launches right into a - "Remember when..?"

story. I can't help but smile at the guy. He does this on purpose. He knows I won't be able to resist trying to top him on the funniest story line, and before I even realize it the night will have gone past.

Once the meal is finished, we decide to check out the clubs. That is, Goten decides to check out the clubs and I decide to tag along.

"Do you feel like trying Slammer's?" Goten asks me as we exit the restaurant.

I consider it. Briefly. "Nah." I'm not really in the mood for the in-crowd tonight. "Something quieter."

I can feel him watching me, wondering what happened to the fun-all-the-time kinda guy I used to be. I just can't let lose anymore. I remember all to clearly what happened the last time I did. "Well, how about letting me beat your butt at pool instead."

This gets the reaction he hoped for as I start teasing him over what a lousy pool player he is and we head off to my favorite bar.

We step in and look around briefly. It's practically empty.

Goten shrugs and racks up the pool table. "Maybe they all went to Slammer's."

"Maybe." I pick up my cue and turn to the table, winking at Goten. "Break, 'Ten, and prepare to lose."

His easy laughter makes me feel good. I'm lucky to have a friend like him.

Even as I think that, I have to wonder.

Who does Gohan have?

*****************************

(Gohan's POV)

Perhaps in hindsight it may have not been the best move I could have made in coming here, but after another grueling torturous evening of failing to meditate I was restless, needing to escape the confines of my apartment.

Of course, I realize what it is that I really need, but as I have forever denied myself this right, I will take the next best thing.

So I'm sitting here in this dark bar, I know this is his favorite one. Goten's mentioned it a time or two.

I ordered a beer and took a seat in the deeply shadowed tables by the side of the bar, I actually felt a measure of calm washing over me.

I was still pondering that when I heard the doors open.

Now, I'm sitting hidden in the shadows, watching as Trunks and Goten play a casual game of pool. They're the only other people here besides the bartender and it's clear to me that they don't realize that they are not actually alone.

I should stand up and make my presence known to them.

I should, but...

Something is wrong with Trunks. I have seen it on his face for a month. I can see it now and the realization that I have caused it hurts me. Since I cannot ask him myself, I resign myself to waiting until Goten does.

While I wait, I wonder exactly when I stopped thinking of Trunks as just 'the President'. Maybe he is breaking under the strain too. We left so much unsaid. I left so much unsaid.

How could I have been so foolish as to accept Trunks' reckless reasoning?

He thought it would be just a bit of fun, just a release, that it wouldn't change anything.

He was wrong. It changed everything.

"Trunks?" Goten finally gives up waiting and puts his cue down. "What's going on?"

Trunks shoots him a sharp look with those haunted blue eyes, freezing for a moment. I can see that he's contemplating lying, trying to think of some acceptable excuse for his increasingly quiet demeanor.

The problem for Trunks is that Goten can see it too. Goten's has always had the unique ability to see through to the real Trunks inside. "No bullshit, Trunks," Goten says softly. "Talk to me."

Trunks laughs softly, not joyful, a hurt little sound, and passes a trembling hand over his face. "Kami, Goten." He sighs softly, the weariness in his voice very evident now. "I don't know if I can tell you everything, OK? But I... I need to talk to someone, I... can't keep going like this."

The worry on Goten's open face deepens as he realizes that Trunks is very close to tears. "It's all right, Trunks. I can respect that. Just... tell me what you can and I'll try to help."

"I know." Trunks takes a deep breath and turns to face the door, trying to stare it down. Like he's desperately in need of an exit.

Well, I can't leave now even if I wanted to. I don't plan on trying. Whatever Trunks says, however scathing, however painful, I deserve to hear.

Consider it punishment for my sins, if you will.

Trunks props himself against the pool table, his arms wrapping around his own body in a peculiar gesture of self-comfort. Goten moves next to him, patiently waiting.

"It's about Gohan," Trunks says softly.

"I guessed that, Trunks," Goten nods slowly. "I knew that something must have happened. I mean, a month and a half ago you two couldn't be in the same room without sparks flying, then overnight you both have the perfect working relationship."

Trunks sighs again, his eyes closing.

His next words almost floor me.

"I'm a fool, 'Ten," he says with quiet conviction. "I'm a fool and I've fucked up something that could have been for the rest of my life."

Goten frowns, his hackles visibly rising. "Did Gohan say that you?" he demands.

Trunks shakes his head. "No," he whispers. He meets Goten's eyes. "No. He wouldn't do that, he... would never willingly hurt anyone."

I close my own eyes as new pain shoots through me.

So you say, Trunks, yet I managed to hurt you, didn't I?

"It's my fault. He told me to leave him alone but I kept after him, pushing." Trunks is continuing softly, his eyes sad and distant. "But every man has his limits, you know? And I found his. I pushed and pushed until I found his."

Goten's frown deepens. "What happened, Trunks? You didn't pull another prank on him, did you?"

Trunks laughs sadly, another tight pained sound that hurts my chest. "No. Nothing like that, I... I can't really explain it. I'm not really sure that I want to." He sighs. "I'm not very proud of what I've done, Goten."

Goten's expression grows grim, after all, I am his brother. "What exactly did you do, Trunks?"

"What didn't I do? I invaded his privacy..." Trunks's voice is soft, his eyes staring into the middle distance. "I goaded him and antagonized him, just to see what kind of reaction I could get."

Goten says nothing. He simply waits silently.

"It was mistake. A big one." Trunks shakes his head sadly. "By the time I realized just how much I could lose, it was too late. The damage was done." Trunks pulls in a deep breath and meets Goten's eyes again. "I hurt him, Goten. I hurt him, and I'm so fucking sorry, but I don't know how to make it better."

Goten struggles with it for a moment. I can almost see the wheels turning as he ponders Trunks's words. When he speaks, his voice is quiet, his words slow and thoughtful. "I'm not really sure that I follow you completely, but I get the idea." He hesitates and chews his lower lip for a while. "To tell you the truth, it sounds like you and Gohan have a lot of things unresolved between you."

"No kidding," Trunks replies softly.

Goten pats his shoulder gently. "You have to talk to him, Trunks. You have to work this out with him. There's two people involved here. You have to deal with that."

"I can't" Trunks whispers tightly.

"Why?"

"He won't talk about it." Trunks' eyes shimmer again and he scrubs at them angrily with his fingers, swiping away the moisture. "I've tried to talk to him at work, I... I've left messages..." His voice hitches softly. "He doesn't want to see me."

You're wrong, Trunks. I do want to see you, to hear you. Know you...

I thought it would be better for you if I stayed away from that part of your life. I thought it would hurt you less.

"I don't blame him." Trunks' quiet voice splinters through my soul. "I pushed so hard, Goten. I got myself in way too deep and I didn't know how to handle it." For a moment, Trunks' beautiful eyes skim over the bar and for a split second I nearly panic, sure that he has seen me. But he hasn't, he simply looks back at Goten and resumes talking. "At first I thought maybe he was just angry at me, you know? For going too far. For pushing him too far. And I understood that. But I can see that it's more than that. You've seen him, haven't you? That man who doesn't smile anymore, doesn't joke anymore. Kami, 'Ten, he hardly even talks anymore. I did that Goten. Me. It's my fault."

Goten is silent for a moment, his pain at Trunks anguish clear. "What are you going to do? He's my brother and I don't want to see him hurt any more."

Trunks sets his jaw firmly. "I'm going to leave him the hell alone. It's what I should have done in the first place."

Goten pats his shoulder briefly and then, Trunks throws his pool cue on the table and they both leave.

I don't even think about it. I just get to my feet and follow.

Trunks was right. He did push me.

But I allowed it. I wanted it.

And he did hurt me. By getting under my defenses, by provoking me into acting in a way that is abhorrent to me... he did hurt me.

But I hurt him too, so in my mind, that clears the slate.

Goten is right. Smarter than me. Trunks and I... we need to talk.

Running around the corner I sprint the last few feet to the high rise. As I hit the elevator and press my fingers against the numbered pad, I find that my mind is calmer and more focused that it has been in a long, long time.

One way or another, this ends tonight.

****************************

(Trunks' POV)

I feel better. Not much, mind you. Just a little, but it's something.

Speaking to Goten, even in that vague sort of way, was good for me.

Kami... "Talk to me." I tell you, if a counselor had uttered those words to me, you wouldn't have been able to pry my mouth open with a fucking crowbar. But Goten's different, you know? No hidden agenda.

So maybe articulating how I feel has helped me to sort it out a bit.

I don't know. Maybe not.

Shit.

I reach the door of my quarters and slip the pass key through the sensor, not quite able to smother the huge yawn that nearly cracks my jaw.

Kami, I'm wrecked. I just want to hole up in there for a week and sleep. As the door slides back, I feel a soft touch on my arm. Warm fingers curl around my bicep and gently turn me.

Dark brown eyes. So sad. So beautiful.

Fuck.

Gohan.

He looks... different. More open.

He smiles. Oh Kami, he's actually smiling at me.

"Hey," he says softly.

I swallow hard. Can't speak. Don't try. Kami, I can't stop staring at him, can't believe that he's come here. Before I can stop myself, before I'm even aware of making the move, I lean towards him, pressing my forehead to his.

He lets me.

Thank Kami. I know that I would probably die if he pulled away.

He touches me. Warm fingers stroke my neck. The softest touch. For some reason, that moves me. Nearly to tears. I don't know why. Maybe it's because this is the first time he's touched me gently.

I'm trembling. Shaking like I have a fever which, if you think about it, I do.

In a way.

That touch is fit to drive me crazy. Slow and feather light, just brushing over the skin on the side of my neck and it... Kami, it feels sweet. I'm frozen here, standing in my open door like an idiot, shaking like a terrified virgin because this man is touching me.

Just touching me.

We stay still, Gohan and I, locked in this weird pose. I don't want to move because I'm afraid that if I do, he'll take his hand off me.

Shit, Trunks, get a grip will you.

"Trunks?"

His scent, his touch... Oh Kami...

"Trunks?"

His second try gets a response. Not a good one, I'll admit to that, but it's more than I thought I was capable of. "Huh?"

"Can I come in?"

I pull back and stare at him.

- Can I come in? -

A question, not a demand.

Not - I want you, Trunks, or - Get on your hands and knees, Trunks, or - Bend over the fucking desk, Trunks...

Just - Can I come in?

I'm as confused as hell at this point. I mean, I know this means something, right?

This is a good change, I think. I just don't understand why.

Why now after all this time?

Because my traitorous throat has closed up tighter than a virgin's ass, I just nod to him. I can feel the wetness flowing down my cheeks and I almost cringe in embarrassment.

Then giving my face a rough once over with my sleeve, I step back into my apartment and wave him to follow me. He barely makes it through the door...

"Why'd you leave me?"

Oh shit. Did that fucking question actually come from my own lips? Like I need an answer to that one. I know why he left... I as good as told him to.

And while we're on the subject... what's with all this crying bullshit again?

He stands, silent but not tense, just waiting while I go to the sink and get a glass of cold water. While I stand there gulping it down, he looks at the sofa and raises his eyebrows at me.

"Sure." I nod at him and he takes a seat.

For a moment, we just look at each other. The space between me at the wall and him on the sofa can't be more than ten feet, but it feels like a fucking abyss.

There are so many words in here with us. I can feel them, thick in the air around us. There's so much to say and I... I don't have a fucking clue where to start.

I know I don't want to go back there again, to all the fucking insanity. It was too much. I ended up needing it too much and that scared the shit out of me.

So no way. Not this time.

I think.

Maybe.

Shit, I don't know.

Finally, Gohan sighs and leans back a little, looking up at me with those sad, yet wise eyes of his.

"I uhm..." He clears his throat and tries again. "Trunks, I left that night because I was ashamed."

Ashamed? What for? For being fallible just like the rest of the world? For responding to all my fucking button pushing?

For doing what you thought I wanted?

I can see that he thinks I'm not following him and he grimaces a little, softly tapping the knuckles of one hand on the arm of my sofa. "I hurt you," he says softly. "I hurt you. I caused you injury, Trunks, and I'm sorry. I never meant to, I... I lost control." He looks away for a moment, his jaw clenching. "That's the part that shames me the most, I think."

"Injury?" I frown and shake my head, not even close to knowing what the hell he's talking about. "What injury? You didn't injure me."

He stares at me, his face filled with doubt. "Trunks, you told me yourself. You said that I was hurting you."

Oh Kami. Oh shit, I don't know whether to laugh or cry. I settle for doing a little of both as I answer him. "I wasn't talking about my ass, Gohan."

He stares at me, confused as hell.

I pull in a deep breath and meet his eyes. I can't even begin to guess at what reaction I'll get to this...

"I was talking about the way I feel."

*****************************

(Gohan's POV)

"I was talking about the way I feel."

For a moment I just sit there, stunned and silent, staring up into his exhausted blue eyes. Trunks looks like he's expecting me to rear up and strike him. It hurts my heart, but it doesn't surprise me.

Oh Kami, his feelings. That's what he was trying to say. I was hurting his feelings.

I sit there on his sofa, watching him watch me with those ridiculously beautiful eyes.

His cheeks are flushed, his nostrils flaring like a nervous colt. As I look at him, I think back on every time I demanded access to his body, every time that I pushed him forward, pushed him down, taking what I wanted with only the barest regard to his physical self and absolutely no regard at all for his heart.

I thought it was what he wanted. Every time I reached around him to grab that gorgeous cock of his, I'd find it hard and hot in my grip. He would come so easily, so powerfully, at that single touch, screaming and cursing, the clenching of his ass incredible around my own hard sex.

Because of that, that basic male response, I was able to justify my actions towards him.

He wanted it, I told myself. Wanted it rough and hard and impersonal. Why would he have come in my hand like that if he didn't?

I am a fool.

"Trunks?" I speak softly, almost afraid to break the silence.

He jumps slightly, but covers it by putting his glass back into the sink. He turns back to me, waiting.

"Will you come and sit with me here?" I smile slightly. "I need... there's some things that I have to say. Things that I have to tell you. Things I should have said before we first started."

Slowly, warily, Trunks moves towards me. He chooses the armchair over sitting beside me on the sofa.

I can understand the choice.

I pull in a deep breath, struggling to find the right words. It is still a difficult thing for me to talk about, to tell him, even though surely after everything that has happened between us, he must know. At least, he should have a fairly good idea.

"I don't know exactly how to explain this to you, Trunks." I begin well enough, but falter there. I remove my glasses, pinch the bridge of my nose and sigh out my frustration, wondering what in the hell all those years of struggling to learn how to meditate were for if I can't apply the principals when it matters the most.

"Just start where you can, Gohan," Trunks says quietly. He's leaning forward, elbows on knees. His entire attention is focused on me and in this isolated instant I find that this gratifies me more than fucking him ever did.

"There's a darkness in me, Trunks," I murmur. "Even back as a child, I struggled to make sense of it, to keep it from breaking away from me. I tend to keep myself emotionally distant from others in order to control this... this..." I spread my hands helplessly.

"Intensity." Trunks finishes for me. He smiles a little and I feel myself smiling back.

"That's exactly the word I'm looking for." I nod gratefully to him. "Thank you." I pause for a moment, frowning in thought. "You reached into it, Trunks. With your words and your actions." I'm not saying this to hurt him, but because it's true. "You breached the walls that I had constructed, and I lost control. I lost sight of who I was... who I wanted to be."

Trunks tilts his head a little, his eyes questioning me, asking me to continue.

"All of the baser, less noble parts of me... I let them lose on you." I drop my eyes for a moment. "I wasn't enough for me to just have you for a brief while. I wanted, needed more."

I feel the sofa cushions dip slightly, and when I look up, he's right there beside me, his eyes full of sorrow. "I didn't understand. I kept fighting you. I thought it was just some kind of power trip you were on."

"I know," I tell him softly.

"I thought you were punishing me."

"I know. And perhaps I was, in a way." I shake my head slowly. "I know that I resented how easily you got to me. But I think, in hindsight, that anger was more for my own lack of willpower. I don't know. For a long time there it seemed like I'd almost stopped thinking at all. All I wanted... the only thing that made sense, that made me feel like I had a bit of control was..." I trail off, feeling a dull burn rise in my face.

Trunks peers at me from under thick lavender lashes, the tiniest spark of his old humor visible.

"...fucking me?" he suggests, his mouth twitching.

I laugh a little. "Yeah."

He sighs and leans back, resting his head against the back of the sofa. "Kami, what a fucking mess."

I can't help but agree.

"So, what happens now?" Trunks asks me, sitting upright again. "Where do we go from here?"

I look at that beautiful and bone-weary face and I can see how much these last few weeks have drained him, how much they have cost him. Although he looks more relaxed now than I've seen in a long time, the mark of his experience is still there in his eyes.

It will take more than a single conversation to make right what is wrong between us.

I want to. But looking into those pain-washed eyes I wonder if it will ever be possible.

There is one thing that I want to set in stone tonight. Right from the outset. If we are to have any chance, this is the way it has to be.

"Where do we go from here?" I repeat his question. "That's up to you, Trunks."

He looks startled. "Me?"

"Yes." I take a risk and reach out to touch him, gently encircling his forearm with my fingers, stroking my thumb over the impossibly soft skin of his inner wrist.

The effect of that one touch is amazing. Now that I am inclined to notice such things, I can see his expression change as he watches me touching him. He simply... softens.

There is no other way to describe it. His eyes, his face, his entire body relaxes.

He loves this. He's completely focused on the movement of my thumb, absorbed in this simple, soothing touch.

For a moment, I feel bitter pain lance through me. All that time I spent wanting his attention, demanding it with cold orders and failing that, brute force... it was wasted effort. I realize that now. All I ever had to do was touch him like I gave a damn and I would have had it all.

I am, in my own earlier words, a complete fool.

"You have to make the choices now, Trunks." I tell him gently. "You have to. I simply can't. I won't. I can't be trusted in regards to us."

Trunks' eyes widen. "You still want me?"

Oh Kami. Yes. I do. Even now, even in this first peaceful moment of connection we are sharing, the old urge is still there. The need in me to take him, have him. My way. To have that frantic, powerful release. I take a deep breath and push the image back again. I nod, closing my eyes and waiting.

Trunks sighs. "I need to think about this, Gohan. Everything's different now." He shrugs. "I need time to sort it out."

I feel the sharp stab of disappointment rise in me. But I promised and this time, I intend to keep it. This time the promise was made to him, not to me. Even if he doesn't know it.

Putting my glasses back on, I slowly get to my feet, regretfully dropping Trunks' wrist. I move to go, leaving him sitting there, his eyes once more wide and staring, his face distant, lost in thought.

Just as I reach the door, his soft words stop me in my tracks.

"I needed it too," he whispers.

I turn and stare at him. "Trunks, I'm not sure if I..."

"I wanted you to fuck me like that, Gohan," he explains, his face sad, his voice low. "I... from that first time I..." He shrugs helplessly, searching for the right words. "It was so deep, you know? So intense. For that little while, I was all you wanted, all you knew. I could give over my control and just... go with it." His face darkens a little. "I thought you didn't give a shit about me. I really did and I hated that. What we did... It was the one way I had of getting close to you."

I look at him, his perfect face set with a kind of grim honesty and I feel pain touch me again. "We called this one pretty badly, didn't we?"

Amazingly, he smiles slightly. "Yeah. Guess we did." He bites his lip gently. "Gohan?"

"Yes, Trunks?"

"This thing between us... the potential for it to happen again. It's always going to be there isn't it?"

I let out a deep breath. "I think it will be, yes. It happened, Trunks. There's no denying it."

He drops his eyes. "I know."

"You have to decide," I tell him again.

"I know that too." Wide blue eyes look up and soften slightly as he smiles at me again. Kindly this time. "See you around, Gohan."

The tiniest flare of anger rises at his dismissal, but I clamp it down firmly. It's distant now, anyway. Understanding has brought back my control. At least for now. Who knows? Maybe even for good.

And maybe it is for the best if we just let it go. Maybe we'll both be better off apart, without constantly having to wonder if the dark obsession that drove us both will return.

I have a feeling that it would always be there at the edges of us, no matter what happened.

I think Trunks knows this too.

"See you around, Trunks," I reply quietly.

And then, with a feeling of loss far greater than I ever thought would be possible, I turn and leave.

See you around.