*Author's Note: The prequel to this story is my one-shot fic, Gravity's Angles (which can be found on my bio page). It is not required that you read it prior to this, but it might help later on for a few references I'm going to make here and there. And even though I think it goes without saying, since the last four episodes of Dragonball Z and all of GT are so terrible, I have decided NOT to include them in the canon of this fic. Sorry. Not sorry.

Also, this was the last fanfiction I will likely ever write. I'm "retired". But oddly, I think about these boys still to this day, over 15 years later. The story in my mind has evolved greatly from this story you're about to read, but the complicated/complex/perplexing relationship of Goten and Trunks lives on... though it will likely never see the page/screen. But I hope you enjoy The Story of You and Me... it's been a journey, to say the least. ~djFusion

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THE STORY OF YOU AND ME
by djFusion

A story about learning that the end of one part of your life only means the beginning of something else

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Grow Up or Grow Apart
~ Goten, age 14 ~ Trunks, age 15 ~

Thick, iron beams flex and groan around the stressing walls of the Gravity Simulator. It's been hours since the old room has gotten any slack in pressure, and the age of this worn metal is starting to show in comparison to us inside of it. Before any more bolts and screws are turned into useless pieces of cracked steel, I throw the power switch and the steady hum of the compressors slowly grind to a halt. Gravity back to normal.

I slide my back down the side of the control panel, leaving a trail of smeared sweat behind me on the wall. With a heavy release of my knees, I wrap my arms loosely around my legs, trying my hardest to control my breath from giving away my complete level of exhaustion.

"Let's... call this a day... huh?... I've... I've got nothing left... what about you?" I force out with a chest heaving in deep intakes of the moist, hot air in the room.

My counterpart turns his focus away from the ceiling to face me, making every attempt to move as little as possible to do so. He just smiles back knowing that there's no need for an actual response, but gives one anyway.

"I don't think I can move if I tried. Tell your mom she's gonna have to bring dinner out here for me tonight," he cracks, wiping the palm of his hand across his face and through his hair, soaked of sweat and dripping on the floor.

After five intense hours of training at over two hundred times normal gravity, it's no surprise we're were both completely drained. We probably wouldn't have stopped otherwise. That's the way it's always been with us. Constant competition to see who can last the longest.

"You know, I haven't felt this much of a difference since we trained in the Time Chamber," he half laughs, pausing a moment before sitting back on his elbows. Smiling from ear to ear, he lowers his voice as if he was about to give up a secret, "I think we should try it."

"Now?! Pfffttt. I'm way too-"

"Come on, Trunks! We've got to be the same level by now! I want to see if we can still do it, don't you? Aren't you curious?" he pleads, obviously forgetting about his total current lack of energy from a day's worth of exerting it non-stop. He sits up completely and bends over his knees, leaning forward to near mimic the position I'm in. He straightens his smile, careful not to look so excited about it, even though I know he is. Goten hasn't changed one bit in that aspect since my first memory of being with him, all though I can't say as much about other things.

Ever since he got the idea to try to fuse again, Goten's been determined to push himself - enough so that our power levels would naturally align this time without me holding back. He's been almost obsessed about it - proving to have more determination that even his father with this lately, even though I could personally care less if I have to hold back or not. I think it's more that he's trying to prove something to me.

It's been about seven years since the last time we performed the Fusion Technique together, but it's only because there hasn't really been a need for it. Ever since Majin Buu's destruction, the Earth's peace hasn't meet any threats that normal human defenses couldn't handle. Going through the hassle of practicing it all the time simply got pushed aside. Yea, I know, I know - It's a sacred Metamoru ritual we perform, and we're the only two non-Metamorians to ever do it... but once you do it a couple hundred times, the fun of it does wear off. Especially for two half-Saiyans with way too much energy on their hands like we had. We were both home schooled as kids, so after plowing through the books as fast as we could, we had nothing but the rest of the day to find any kind of trouble we could get our hands into. Let's just say we should thank Dende for the understanding mothers we have.

But somewhere along the way, we kinda sorta forgot how to fuse. We didn't even notice until his father said something about it a few weeks ago, and I know as well as Goten does that if Goku found out, he would be beyond disappointed with us for not keeping it up over the years. We can't exactly just ask him how to do it again - if he even remembers how.

So, for the past few weeks, we've been in here, taking it upon ourselves to remember it piece by piece until we can do it again. Nothing but training and sparring around the clock, fusion has been the only thing on our minds for days. We have barely talked about anything else.

"You know..." I grunt out, pushing myself back up the side of the wall. "I think we should just fucking wait-" I'm cut short by a familiar scream from the other side of the door.

"Trunks Briefs! What did I tell you about using that kind of language in this house again, young man?!" my mom shouts through the metal walls, clearly eavesdropping for an unknown amount of time. Her ever-present hearing never misses anything, especially when it comes to my so-called 'filthy adolescent mouth'. I don't care how strong I am for a fifteen-year-old, Even I fear the authority of my mother. Sometimes even more than my father.

Fortunately, Goten can easily relate to the situation here. His mom is ten times worse than my mom has ever been. I've been at that house too many times to see her rip into her sons like she's on a war path. At least the worst I get is being sent to my room, which doesn't usually last for more than ten minutes anyway. Chi Chi brings out the frying pan.

"I'm sorry m-mom, it won't happen again." Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Goten biting down on the inside of his lip, forcing down the smirk he wants to make at the new crack in my voice again. Just great.

Pulling his tired body off the floor of the Simulator, he walks over to the door and pulls the safety open, releasing the pillow of steam with a loud hiss as the room depressurizies. One expected blue haired, over protective mother is already tapping her foot on the other side, arms folded in usual fashion for when the wrath is directed towards one of us.

Look out - No Bullshit Mode: straight ahead.

"Perhaps you boys would like to fend for dinner yourselves tonight? Hmmm? You should, considering all of the damage that you two have been causing to this machine! I heard the damn thing busting apart from the second floor, and you know your father won't tolerate training without it while it gets fixed!" she yells straight at Goten, knowing if something went wrong, he was just as much to blame as me, and vice versa - it's always been that way. But I laugh anyway at the fact he's getting more of the blunt end of it than I am right now.

"No more! Get out!" she orders, yanking us through the door by the collar of our sweat drenched shirts, slamming it behind us and turning off the external main power switch. "Effective immediately: the Gravity Simulator is officially in need of repair. I am not about to build a new one if you two demolish this one, got it?" she scolds, subliminally reminding us of the countless times in the past we've 'accidentally' broken something expensive. She doesn't even wait for a nod indicating that we understand, already heading for the kitchen to order the dinner I'm not entirely sure we're still getting.

She's far out of ear-shot before Goten finally says something. "Wow Trunks! You're mom's pretty pissed!"

"You got that right... but keep your guard up during dinner, huh?" I whisper over to him, exchanging a mischievous grin with my other half. Even after a lifetime of each other's constant companionship, the excitement of our next challenge has yet to become boring.

I lean in closer, confirming the plan, "We'll fuse tomorrow!"

For the past week and a half, Goten has been staying at Capsule Corporation so we can concentrate on training as much as physically possible, much to the displeasure of his mother and enthusiastic encouragement of his father. Chi Chi never fully appreciated the fact that Goten had become so close with 'Vegeta's boy', and continued to insist that I was corrupting her youngest son into something he wasn't - bringing out a so-called violent side that she tried so desperately hard to suppress like she did with Gohan. Goten, however, never had the book smarts that Gohan did, despite his mother's constant attempts to shove his nose in one as a kid. Gohan was never really a fighter either. Goten is.

It was Goku who finally convinced his wife to allow their son to train again, insisting that it was only healthy for him to release some of the Saiyan instincts in him through fighting with another who could understand him. Goten's too much like his father to sit around at home and be content with chores and books everyday like his older brother has grown accustomed to, and I think Goku's just using his son's sudden interest to become stronger as a chance to give Goten an opportunity to mature as a fighter on his own. From growing up without the careful guidance he apparently gave Gohan as a kid, Goten's fighting style has become a lot different than his father's, and I think Goku knows that letting his son train with me is the best way for him to develop it. I am, after all, a big part of where it comes from.

So, for the past ten days, Goten's been making himself comfortable in one of the many guest rooms at Capsule Corporation, even though the amount of time he spends here no longer really qualifies him as an actual guest anymore. My mom gave him the bedroom across the hall from mine years ago, and it's been Goten's room ever since. Even if he hasn't spent the night in it for a long time.

It will always be his room.

And I am actually excited about finally getting to fuse again, too. But for some reason, this time around seems like a lot bigger of a deal then the last time we did it. Maybe, as little kids, we couldn't fully understand the reality of what it meant to join bodies. There's so much about it that I've forgotten - like what it feels like exactly for that split second you feel your body melting into a new one. To feel that hot rip of power coarse through your veins, feeling Goten's energy slide into mine... I just know it will be wilder this time around, considering how strong we've become.

But now, there's something different about us. More like for the past few years. At times we act almost... formal around each other, like we're trying to pretend we're something we're not. And we don't talk about everything like we used to, but mostly because 'everything' includes a lot more nowadays. There isn't anymore of the rough-and-tumble fooling around or physical closeness between us, which probably goes along with why I stopped spending the night, come to think about it. Apparently it's not 'right' to be sleeping in the same bed together anymore now that we're older, but it makes me wonder if we'll just keep growing farther and farther apart as time goes on.

It's thoughts like these that keep me awake when I should be trying to sleep.

"'Ten?" I whisper, lightly knocking on his door. "Hey? Are you awake in there?" Trying not wake the rest of the house, I gently turn the knob and creak the door open slightly to peek in. I had heard some sounds coming from his room on the way back from the bathroom, and I'm curious to why he would be up at one in the morning after insisting that we go to bed early to get enough rest for tomorrow. Maybe he can't sleep either. "Chibi..."

I carefully open the door and look inside to find Goten lying on the bed with his back facing me, softly purring with his face pressed in the pillow. His body is tensed - kind of flinching - but he's definitely not asleep right now.

I walk up to the side of the bed and kneel down to get just inches from his face. It's completely obvious what's happening now since I can plainly see a hand grabbing a fistful of sheets, and the other flexing and lost somewhere down between his boxer shorts and Dende-knows-where.

Busted.

I get right in his ear, "Thinkin' about me again?" I whisper through a wide smile, startling him with a sharp gasp. It makes me almost feel bad about ruining whatever nice little thought he was having.

He's mortified, scrambling over the bed to cover himself and sharply glares back up at me. Sitting up with his knees to his chest, he balls up the sheets in his lap and his eyes tell me that he would throw me out the window if it were safe to stand up.

I smirk at his expense, "Hey, I don't care what you do, 'Ten. I knew you'd grow up sometime," I try to joke as I ruffle his chaotic mess of bed head hair, all though I think that came out more condescending then I intended it to. I keep forgetting not to throw our age difference in his face all the time anymore.

"Get out."

"Hey now, I'm just fooling around. Don't be so sensitive about it." I know I'm just embarrassing him at this point and should just drop it... but not without one more jab, "Besides, I'd rather you do it now instead of in the middle of sparring tomorrow."

"Shut up and GET OUT!" he snaps, jumping off the bed to shove me out the door, still covering himself with the sheets held tightly to his lower half. Once on the other side, I hear the click of the lock indicating that my teasing perhaps stepped over a line. I don't think Goten has ever locked the door to his room in all the times he's slept over here. I think I'm feeling regret.

I just stand outside of his door.

I start wondering how Goten acts about stuff like this. Makes me wonder how much about us we can joke about anymore. I wish I would think twice before I do shit sometimes, but it's hard to take things seriously with him. Teasing and fun are all we know... or used to anyway.

But, whatever.

I know him. He won't care. He never cares. This is how we've always been. We're best friends. And my best friend is exactly like me.

Right?

My best friend is a jerk.

But I guess should be used to things like this from Trunks by now. I've known him forever and he hasn't changed at all from when we were kids. At least not when it comes to making me look like a baby. I swear he treats me like I'm still seven years old! I know I'm a year younger than he is, but he's not that much more mature than me so that he has to act like he knows it all.

I'm determined to not act like this bothers me. I mean, it does bother me, but not enough to get all bent out of shape over it and give him the satisfaction. It's my own stupid fault for not locking the door. I've dealt with worse from him before. He's lucky we're best friends.

But there's something to be legitimately excited about. I was barely able to sleep at all last night. Even after my shower, the clock on the night stand still only reads 5:05am. I make my way downstairs to help myself to some breakfast, and stop just outside the kitchen once I hear the clang of a frying pan hitting the stove. Who the hell is up at this hour?

With a careful peer around the corner, I can see the kitchen table already set up with two plates, a carton of orange juice and fruit piled up in a large bowl. The smell of freshly made pancakes being made is almost too much to resist. Never once in the hundreds of times that I've slept over here has Bulma made breakfast for us before training. She must feel really bad for yelling at us about the Gravity Simulator incident yesterday.

I go straight for a piece of fruit and start to thank her as I polish off an apple on my training gi. "Hey, breakfast smells gr-..." The sight out of the corner of my eye isn't what I thought I'd see.

"Nice of you to finally get your ass up. But I figured you wouldn't be getting much sleep anyway," he taunts, flipping over the last misshapen pancake onto the stack next to the stove. His short lavender hair is held back away from his face with that black headband he wears when he wants it out of his eyes, which means he's going to be all business about training today. It's still a little damp from his shower, which means he was probably up and ready before I was.

I'm still frozen as Trunks carries the steaming hot plate of pancakes past me and sets them down on the table. Wait... since when could Trunks cook?

"How..."

"How'd I learn how to make my own food?" he finishes for me. "I don't know, I guess it just sort of came to me in my sleep," he cracks, smiling wide at what he's obviously making fun of.

So much that slight chance he'd forget about it.

"Damnit! Let it go, all right?!" I bite out, trying to look as pissed off as possible. There goes my plan to act like it doesn't bother me, too.

Trunks takes one look at me, and can surely see that flushing red color spreading over my cheekbones by now. I'm genuinely embarrassed about this. I just want him to drop it already.

"Look, I'm just kidding, okay? You don't have to be so damn embarrassed in front of me, 'Ten. What ever you do, I do too, you know," he goes on. "I'm only a year older than you are."

Only? Since when was it ever an only.

Trunks playfully shoves me backwards, provoking what could have evolved into another kitchen destroying pushing match if I shoved him back. But i don't. I let him have the upper hand in our dynamic, as I always do. Instead, I just bite into my apple, returning his smile that's so familiar to me.

After breakfast and some quick sparring in the woods, we decide that we're finally ready to try it. I'm nervous as all hell. I know Trunks is, too. We review the positions one last time and get into stance, mirroring each other in perfect symmetry, ready to do this after seven years passing since the last fusion. My power level is exactly on this time, and he didn't even have to hold back to match me! But this time, there is something more serious about us - maturity maybe? We actually understand the significance of what we're going to do, and I think it's become more than just a dance.

As I stretch out my arms and look to him over my shoulder, I'm reminded that the blue eyes looking back at me are a lot different than last time we did this. I wonder if he's thinking the same about me?

"You ready?"

"Yeah!"

"Let's do it."

"FUUUUUUUU...SION...HAAAAAAAA!"