And we are back with Chapter 4 of 5. I apologize about the very long wait in between chapters 3 and 4. Six months is too too long. It was a very real possibility that I would abandon this story entirely after I lost my job with regular internet access. But here we are. I highly recommend that if you haven't read them recently, you reread chapters 1 through 3. It shouldn't take too long since I have absolutely no talent in writing chapters longer than 2000 words or so.

Standard disclaimers, etc. etc.

Enjoy!

Chapter 4

--

"Ah, nice to meet you," I said, bowing and slowly backing away. "Sorry to have interrupted."

"It's all right," Marron answered, with a hint of a blush.

"Listen, sweetie," he began, and Marron and I both reacted, but I held my tongue.

"Yeah, babe?" she answered. I cringed slightly.

"I need to talk to Goten. The sooner the better." My cringe became more severe at his tone, but I rejoiced at the chance to be able to confront him about the note. "Can you wait here? It shouldn't take long."

Marron nodded. "See you tonight, Tora."

He felt around the bed until he found a small pastel-blue shirt, which he tossed back down. "I'll be ready in a second, Goten," he said, walking over to his closet. "Meet me down in front of the building."

As soon as I walked away, the door shut again, and I felt a cold rush against my cheeks, which was either due to the comparatively cool temperature in the hallway or because I was blushing the entire time I was there.

I passed Tracy again on the way out, but didn't stop to say goodbye. Instead, I felt in my pocket to make sure my note was still there. How would I present it? I mulled over my options briefly before he came through the door. He wordlessly walked toward a bench across from a row of violets and sat slowly, pulling out a cigarette and casually lighting it. I rocked from side to side, uneasily anticipating what he had to say.

He took a long drag, and the smoke escaped his lips in awkward clumps. The silence was unbearable. I moved toward him, and he immediately stood up.

"Goten," he began. "You've got to leave me alone."

My hand impulsively clenched in my pocket, crumpling the paper. My lips quivered and I temporarily lost my voice, so I could not immediately retort.

"You are being really clingy, and it's kinda cramping my style. We can hang out sometimes, dude, but I feel like I'm being shadowed. So just, you know, lay off, all right?" His tone was matter-of-fact, but not without a tinge of regret.

Finding my voice, I answered in a near-whisper, "We've only hung out twice since you've come home."

"Yeah, exactly. Twice in two days." He ashed his cigarette and pulled it back to his lips. "I mean, it's good to see you, I guess, but I want to spend time with my family and Marron."

"We used to hang out all the...," I began, but he cut me off.

"Things aren't like the used to be Goten," he shouted, and then, in a calmer voice said, "And I know this isn't about 'hanging out,'"

"W-what do you mean?" I asked, although I had an idea I knew exactly what he meant.

He took another slow drag, and flicked the cigarette to the ground. Exhaling, he answered, "Dammit, Goten. We both know what we used to do." I tensed at this, I knew he hadn't forgotten. "But we were young, and we were fooling around, and we can't do that anymore."

"Why not?" I asked, point-blank, with a new sense of nothing left to lose.

"I'm not gay. I have a girlfriend. I. Don't. Want. To." he answered, in the same matter-of-fact tone I had asked the question in.

"What about,..." I began, my voice hemorrhaging hopefulness.

"Listen," he interrupted, as he sat back down. He patted the space next to him, and I reluctantly took him up on his offer. My hand was still clenched in my pocket, but I knew that there was no point in showing him the note now.

"I have a feeling that, maybe you invested yourself in this a lot more than I did. You're my friend, all right?" I nodded, but hot tears welled up in my eyes. "I'm really sorry that I, I guess, led you on. But you've got to let go, all right?"

I nodded again, automatically, at the phrase "all right."

"Goten, listen," he said again, shakily. "If it will, you know, give you closure, and not just inflame your feelings, I will kiss you one last time."

The figure sitting in front of me, through my unshed tears, was stunningly familiar, as Trunks. Trunks, and not Tora. I could hear him shine through in his voice, as well. I nodded, "OK."

I blinked, and Trunks leaned in and pressed his lips against mine. I kissed back, perhaps overexcitedly. He kissed a little differently now, and I could distinctly taste ash, but the memories flooding back almost knocked me backward. For a few seconds, I was able to return to that simpler time, when Trunks and I were together, and had an untouchable, meaningful relationship. But bringing me firmly back into the present, the kiss was tainted with the reminder that it would be our last.

And all at once, Trunks's hand cupped the back of my head, and he deepened the kiss. My arms wrapped around him loosely as I pressed my tongue against his. Again, my head was reeling, incapable of taking this all in, and yet, it still felt perfectly natural, and even vital. How I could go on, after this, our last kiss, was painful to think about, so I pushed it to the back of my mind. If I could stop thinking, just for the duration of this kiss, I thought. But I also wanted to, somehow, make my memory of this moment stronger, as it might be all that sustains me later.

I let up a bit, letting him take more control, but trying not to let him end it. However, he seemed to take the relax as a cue, and broke the kiss. A whimper escaped my throat, as I looked up into his eyes. The icy-blue pools were already fixed on mine. "Trunks," I gasped, my arms pulling him toward me.

He stood up and broke the embrace. "Tora. I'm Tora, now," he said thickly. "Listen, I..." he began. "I need to go check on Marron. I'll see you around," and he hurried back inside.

--

I took the scenic route home, and though I had fully intended to heed Tora's advice, it was even more difficult not to think about him. "It's a sign of weakness to depend on something so heavily," I said aloud, in an attempt to convince myself. "I wasn't so whiny and clingy when I... had Trunks." I shook my head repeatedly when the thoughts became too intense.

Arriving home after dark, my mom greeted me. "Good evening, Goten... where were you?"
"Hmm?" I mumbled, looking up to meet her eyes. "Oh, I was at Tora's -- Trunks's."

"Oh, OK. Well, your dinner's in the refrigerator. And I need to do laundry tonight anyway, so go ahead and bring me all of your dirty clothes."
"Thanks," I said, flashing a hint of a genuine smile. Although in light of recent events I did not have much of an appetite, I went upstairs and changed into pajama pants and a thin, navy t-shirt. I noticed Trunks, or Tora, or whatever his name is, had left a couple of beers with me, and I debated whether I should just leave them there, or use them as an excuse to visit him, or have a pity party for myself and just drink them. I would leave them there for now.

Bringing my dirty clothes downstairs, I peeked in the fridge at what she had prepared for me: meatloaf. Trunks and I both used to love my mom's meatloaf. I still did, mind you. He probably doesn't, I thought to myself. He's changed so much. I sighed aloud and laughed at how smitten I still am, despite myself.

I left the meatloaf for breakfast and trudged back upstairs. I eyed the beer but decided against it; it would likely only make things worse. I closed my eyes tight and remembered what I could of the kiss. I remembered the taste of cigarettes, and the rough almost-clumsiness, and the distinct musk, and in small spurts, it returned to me.

My hand naturally rested atop my hardening member, and I stroked it lightly through my pajamas. "Trunks," I whispered. I pounded the mattress with my fist in anger. "Dammit." I increased the frequency of my strokes, my head began pounding, the images became fuzzier, and, shortly thereafter, I came.

I shook my head as I came back to earth, my middle covered in cum. "This is not the way to get over him," I though to myself. I soon nodded off.

--

The next day, I woke up, dried cum decorating my stomach. I stuck my tongue out, got up, and hopped into the shower. I was almost tempted to pleasure myself again, but refrained. If I am ever to get over him, I thought to myself, that's the first step.

Out of the shower, I opened my closet and saw it was nearly empty. I slipped on a shirt and some shorts, despite it being winter, temporarily, and went downstairs.

"Mom," I called out. No answer. "Mom, I said again." I looked inside the living room, and she was sitting there, reading a slip of paper. "There you are, did you do laund--" I began, but I cut myself off as I recognized the note as Trunks's note to me, the one I had intended to confront him with, and which I had stupidly left in my pants pocket.

"Goten," she said calmly. "We need to talk."

--

End Chapter 4.

One to go!