Wrong

Author's Note: I have decided that I will be continuing this as a longer series. Not too much longer, though. There won't be any intricate storylines or intense battles or arcs, just a story about Trunk's coming to terms with his sexuality. Also, all italicized sentences are Trunk's thoughts. Thank you! Enjoy!

"Trunks! How many time have I asked you to clean your room in the past month?"

"Uh… I don't know. Twice?"

"Six times, Trunks. Six freaking times! Either you clean it now, or I go in there and get rid of all of the things you have laying around! I swear you are just like your father. Both of you need to listen to me more!"

The lavender haired half-saiyan sighed in defeat as he trudged from the living room to his own. His mother can be such a hard-ass…

His door slid open with a swish and the first thing he noticed when he entered his room was the smell. His nostrils were greeted with the pungent aroma of sweaty gym attire. When he was young it wasn't much of a problem, but once he hit puberty, his stench seemed to amplify by at least (if not over) 9,000.

Alright… maybe I have been putting this off for a while.

He scanned the room and decided to begin with picking up his dirty clothes. At least then it might smell a little bit better while he cleaned the rest of the room.

He picked up an assortment of t-shirts, tanktops, shorts, pants, socks, trunks (lol), boxers, and even a skirt that he had recently worn to his school's powderpuff football game. Hidden underneath one pile of clothing was Trunk's deepest, darkest secret.

"Oh, hello there! I wondered where you went!"

Trunks threw his clothes onto his bed and bent to pick up his porno magazine from the floor.

The cover was a shot of a gorgeous, muscular, blonde man leaning against a wall and girpping his belt buckle and tipping his cowboy hat. Trunks softly ran his fingers over the flowing mane that descended down the model's broad shoulders and bit his lip.

"Long time, no see, Sherriff…"

He felt his pants tighten as blood flow quickly began to concentrate into his loins.

Just as he unbuttoned his trousers and was about to practice some self-love, he heard his parents talking in the living room and quickly threw the magazine under his desk and gathered up all of his clothes.

"Bulma have you seen my white boots? I can't find them anywhere."

Vegeta stood in the doorway lazily eyeing the living room in search of his favorite footwear as his wife panted and wheezed to the over enthused voice of the video-workout instructor.

"White -wheeze- boots?"

"Yes. The only boots I own. I wear them all the time…"

"Oh! I thought they belonged -pant- to Trunks!"

"So where did you put them?"

"Well, if I thought they belonged to Trunks -wheeze- then where do you think I put them?"

The perpetually grumpy Saiyan prince scowled and rolled his eyes before walking through the room towards the bedrooms.

"-pant- Dumbass."

"I heard that."

"You can punish me later~"

Bulma stopped abruptly and wiped sweat from her brow. She put a hand on one of her hips and winked at Vegeta. He turned and looked her up and down before smirking in reply.

"You guys are disgusting. Seriously."

Trunks walked past his father holding what looked like a boulder of dirty clothing. Vegeta shrugged off his son, still a bit thrilled by his wife's flirtatious mood.

As he neared Trunk's bedroom he was relieved to find that the awful smell of the boulder hadn't lingered in the room he was about to enter. Upon entering the doorway he immediately spotted his boots sitting hear the desk.

"Why would she think they we're Trunk's? His are completely different!"

He exclaimed to himself as he spotted Trunk's (nearly identical) boots peeking out from the closet. Vegeta sighed and went to retrieve his boots and noticed something peeking out from underneath Trunk's desk. A magazine cover with only the word "PLAY" and some luscious blonde hair visible from it's poorly chosen hiding spot.

Vegeta smirked with a sort of perverted pride as he picked up the magazine.

"That's my b-"

His mind went blank for a moment at the sight that met him.

Vegeta was holding a "PLAY GIRL" Magazine.

"D-Dad? What are you doing in here?"

Vegeta dropped the magazine and whirled around to face his son.

"Wh-what the hell is this, Trunks?"

"What? That's not mine!"

"It's hidden in your room Trunks!"

"I don't know! Maybe Goten left it here! It's not mine! Why would I look at stuff like that?"

What the hell did I just do?

"… Goten? Goten is… like this?"

"I don't know, I guess so because it's not mine!"

Trunks flew across the room and snatched the magazine from his dad. Vegeta furrowed his eyebrows even deeper than they already had been and snatched it back.

"I'm gonna give it back to Goten, okay?" Trunks grabbed at it again.

"No you're not. I'm going to dispose of this filth and have a nice long chat with Kakarot about his son."

"Dad, no! You can't do that!"

"I can and I will!"

Vegeta ripped the magazine down the middle and stormed out of the room, leaving Trunks standing in his room in shock. As he walked down the hallway, he was mumbling and ranting to himself,

"This is so messed up. So fucking wrong."

Trunks fell to his knees when the full reality of what just happened hit him. He was unable to see clearly through his tears as his body shook. How could he have been so careless? He should have stuffed it under the mattress or in his pillowcase. Why the hell didn't he think it through?

I'm sorry for this Goten… I'm so sorry.