Love, A Game..

Chapter 1

"I'm glad Mum let me stay here on Kami's Lookout instead of hanging around back down on Earth," said Gohan.

Mirai Trunks looked at the blonde-haired eleven-year-old sitting on the step beside him and smiled. "Me, too," he agreed. "But why do you say that, Gohan?"

Gohan turned a charming grin on the teenage Saiyan and said cheerfully, "So, I can get out of studying, of course! I like training much better and I like training with you, Trunks!" He jumped up and stood several meters away in a fighting form. "Well?" he said impatiently. "Are you going to spar with me or not?"

"Of course, I am!" Matching his friend's grin, Trunks sprang to his feet facing the young boy and settled into a combat crouch. With one hand, he beckoned Gohan to attack him.

He flickered into Super Saiyan as his opponent dove in, and found to his own astonishment that the kid was almost as strong as he was. Within the first few minutes Trunks was being forced to power up to full in order to counter the younger demi-Saiyan's kicks and punches. Gohan's year in the Hyperbolic Time Chamber had worked miracles on the boy's speed and power. Trunks had to make a big effort just to keep his skin whole, and soon the tempo had increased until it wasn't far short of all-out warfare. Ki blasts rocketed around the Lookout, each missing by a hair's breadth the trees and pillars that ringed the sanctuary.

In the heat of the battle Trunks charged up a powerful energy beam. Hyped on adrenaline, he didn't realize that the attack was more powerful than necessary. The Saiyan blood pounding through his veins inhibited his judgement, and when Gohan came within range he launched it without a second thought.

The impact sent Gohan tumbling painfully over the white paved stones of the Lookout. He came to a rest near the far edge and only then did Trunks realize he'd overdone it. He flew over immediately.

"Geez, Gohan, I'm sorry," he blurted as he knelt beside the small, purple-clad form. Gohan tried valiantly to sit up but fell back with a groan. Trunks quickly looked him over, seeing the numerous burns, scrapes and bruises and felt a pang of guilt. "I'm sorry Gohan, I didn't mean to overdo it," he said anxiously and picked up the light body. As always, the feeling of holding his friend in his arms stirred any number of complicated feelings but he stubbornly pushed them aside. *Now is definitely ~not~ the time, Trunks* he told himself obstinately as he carried Gohan to one of the inner rooms of the Lookout. This was where the two half-Saiyans had been staying during the days leading up to the Cell Games, and in here there were antiseptic and bandages.

The purple-haired teenager gently laid Gohan on a bed and hurried to retrieve medical supplies from the bathroom cabinet. Gohan was silent while Trunks dressed his wounds but couldn't help wincing as the disinfectant made contact with his skin. "Ow..." he whispered.

"Shh ... sorry about this, Gohan," said Trunks worriedly. "It's all my fault..."

"That's okay, Trunks," Gohan assured him but through clenched teeth as the older part human dabbed the antiseptic on another burn. "I know it wasn't your fault - you didn't mean it."

"Your dad would probably eat me alive if he found out I'd roughed you up this badly," said Trunks jokingly, trying to lighten up.

"He wouldn't do that!" exclaimed Gohan, giggling. His laughter was infectious and Trunks soon found himself grinning along with his friend. *He's so cute when he giggles like that* thought the teenager wistfully, reluctantly looking away from the boy's face so he could concentrate on fixing the young demi-Saiyan's injuries. Recurring thoughts of how much he fancied Gohan had been bothering Trunks almost since his return to the past timeline, even before androids 17 and 18 had woken up. Unfortunately, the fact that the boy was only eleven years old didn't seem to matter to any part of his mind or heart other than the tiny little bit that controlled logic and reason and Kami knew how powerful ~that~ part of his brain was.

So, he tended Gohan's wounds while the younger Saiyan lay quiet, letting Trunks's hands roam over his body as he applied dressings and bandages to the worst spots. It amazed the purple-haired teenager that Gohan could maintain his Super Saiyan state even when on the verge of sleep but then again a lot of things about the Gohan from this timeline amazed Trunks. The fact that an eleven-year-old boy could become a Super Saiyan at all was truly impressive. He was so sweet and innocent, with a purity of spirit that attracted Trunks irresistibly.

Trunks sighed, and even as he did so, Gohan's eyelids slid fully shut as he fell asleep. Amazingly, he still remained powered up. Even when unconscious, his hair stayed blonde and his ki only decreased slightly with the loss of wakefulness. He looked so peaceful and beautiful in sleep, exuding an aura of contentment as he dozed. Blatantly admiring the boy, Trunks ran his eyes over his friend's face, fixing every line, every detail in his mind to remember as long as he could.

Slowly, cautiously, Trunks reached out to brush a stray bit of hair from his beloved's face, his hand lingering on the smooth skin. He could feel his own pulse in his fingertips as his nerves delighted in the touch of Gohan's cheek. Suppressing another wistful sigh, he cupped the sweet face in his hands briefly before getting to his feet and leaving the room to do his own training or something ... anything to take his mind off his love for the boy he was not allowed to have.

***

Late that night, a crescent moon shone down on Kami's Lookout. Its subtle beams slid through the open window of a bedroom to fall on the two demi- Saiyan occupants. Everything was still all around; the residents of the guardian's place slept peacefully, temporarily disregarding the impending threat of the Cell Games. In the entire lookout, not a sound was to be heard; not a motion was to be seen.

Gohan sat cross-legged on his bed, eyes focused intently on the still figure of Trunks, sleeping deeply opposite him. On that part of the planet, he was the only soul awake. He was watching his friend from the future, and he had come to a decision.

Everybody thought he was young. Too young to fight, too young to risk his life against aliens, too young to stand beside the rest of the Z fighters during the Cell Games. Gohan himself didn't know if he was old - mature - enough to give Trunks what the teenager was unconsciously begging for - his love, in the most intimate way - but he would never find out if he didn't try. So, Gohan made a decision: to find out.