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Author's Notes: Um, a story I came up with only evening while I was bored…I'm a huge fan of Goten and Trunks pairings, so I figured, why on try one myself? More of vignette then anything; it's very short, but I personally think it's pretty good.
Obligatory Disclaimer: I do not Dragonball Z nor any of its characters., both are property of Akira Toriyama and various cooperations.
Ever confidant, you swish that purple mane of yours behind you, blue eyes sparkling mischievously, but somehow still concentrating on the cursed math problem before us. You know what you're doing; I only hope I know what I’m doing. Trig is such a pain in the ass, but then again, as long as you're here I'm not complaining. It's for you, Trunks, that I took this class, nothing else. Anything to be near you, to see you, to…desire you.
It hurts, ya know, to have you so close and yet unattainable. It's so hard to get a damned minute around you these days with all those girls hanging off you, so damned close to you… Dende, if only you could see how many times I've wished it was me in those strong, muscular arms of yours, and not some shallow bimbo. You've never known how much I've yearned to press my cheek against that soft purple hair, to kiss those smirking lips, to run my hands against that soft chest or simply lean against it when I'm upset about something. Uncountable, that's what they are. Ever since we were boys I've felt close to you, but I never realized how close until I was older, and now you're gone from my reach. Too intelligent to teach my stupid self anything, too damned perfect to bring yourself to my levels.
Maybe it's better this way. I'd hate to see what your father Vegeta would think about how the "spawn of Kakarotto" really felt about his son. Eek, it's hurts to even think about the consequences, but you'd be worth it, so very worth it.
God you're beautiful: smooth, pale skin toned against a muscular exterior, and soft, lavender hair highlighting those blue beauties of yours. Oh yes, you would be very much worth the cost. I can't say I'm not jealous of those girls, Trunks; they have what I never will. Even if it was just a one night stand, a drunken incident, I wouldn't care. Just anything to be with you.
I wish I could tell you how I feel, but I'm so scared, so utterly frightened at your reaction. I'm scared to be rejected and in doing so lose a friend, and I'm scared to be accepted, for I wouldn't know where to go from there. You have no idea how utterly befuddling my feelings are, how humiliating it is not to be like other guys. Sure, I'll go out with those girls, I'll sleep with them, I'll even tell them I love them, but they will never mean much more then just faceless dolls to me when compared to you. Oh, how many times I've pictured your face on a girl I've slept with, or have pretended it's you I'm kissing and not her. I don’t mean to hurt these girls, but I can't love them. I just can't. Not without loving you first.
Maybe someday I'll be able to tell you how I feel, and maybe, just maybe, you'll reciprocate my feelings. Perhaps one day I won't have to dream, and that it will be your chest I'm leaning against, and it will be your arms which surround me. Hell, it'll be worth the wait because you are worth far more then just simple time.
Suddenly you turn and face the blonde behind you. She's dropped her pencil and you, being the "generous" person that you are, turn around and pick it up for her. You reciprocate the flirtatious smile she gives you, and I can't help but feel the blood boil. No, I tell myself, now is not the time; I just hope there will be enough time after the girls for us.
But those ideals are only in my dreams. For now, though, I'll stick my pencil behind my ear and be content by simply adoring you and hoping that one day that smile will be for me…
If you like it, please review, or e-mail me at ChaoticSerenity3@aol.com. Don't flame me.