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The Barrier	By : Kimmy Category: Dragon Ball Z > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 5861 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own DragonballZ, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-The Barrier
- 2-Part two
- 1
- 2
Title: The Barrier

Author: Kimmy Jarl

Rating: NC17

Pairing: Goku/Vegeta

Disclaimer: I don’t own Dragonball z. I get no money from writing this story.

Warnings: Yaoi, RAPE, violence

I sat down in the brown, dry grass and sighed. “Hey, Vegeta, that was a great spar.” Not that Vegeta had seemed to enjoy himself. If he didn’t enjoy scowling and cursing, that was. All that shit coming out of his mouth. Now he just sat there, face set in a mask of scorn and disgust.

“Hey, Vegeta, I said, it was a great spar.” I was just repeating myself out of spite. Had nothing to lose after all. Vegeta hated me; even after Buu, he still hated me. “But of course, I couldn’t use all my strength. Had to hold back.” Disguised as teasing. Vegeta glared. I felt like rubbing it in. Dirt in the wound. Whatever.

“Fuck you, Kakarott.” The man finally spoke. Dark and raspy, his voice held a richness that gave his every utterance a sort of splendour that didn’t belong there. Damn you, Vegeta.

In a rush, he stood up, his crouch level with my face. Blasted impulse. Made me reach out and grab the hem of his trousers, of his tight spandex pants. They were so tight after all, that I could see the contours of his sex through the fabric. Always could. I just pulled the pants down, drew them down like nothing. Like nothing mattered anymore.

His bare skin was shocking, frankly. Just to have it up close, to see him with the tight trousers below his knees, to see his hips bare and his heavy manhood revealed, nothing between him and the tepid air.

I didn’t think. I glanced up at him and I saw the anger there, and I got scared. He stared down at me with a look on his face that I had never seen before. I had thought I knew the depth of his loathing, but I was wrong. He had been… restrained, really. Such outrage, now on his face. Such hate just for me. And frankly, it was no good, it was nothing I wanted to see. I don’t want this hate, Vegeta.

I pulled him down to me, yanking him, my hands on the back of his knees. He was down with me, with me, and I stared straight into his face, his body trapped beneath me.

“What the HELL are you doing, Kakarott?” That’s what he said, but his face was only inches from me, and I could see the darkness in his eyes, staring back at me. Like he could feel it too.

I want to see you bleed, Vegeta. I want to feel your face under my fist as I hit you with everything I have.

I did it then, hit him. Not like sparring, not even like fighting. This was just my fist on him, my fist on him, my fist on him. Endlessly, it felt.

I didn’t feel free, I didn’t feel good. I felt my heart pounding in my head and a bitter taste in my mouth. I felt every muscle in my body. I felt the muscles on my stomach, on my back and my shoulders, the muscles on my legs and on my arms. All working together as I hit him.

He put his hands up, but I struck them down, I pinned his wrist with my knee, I hit him on his chest, slammed my fists down on his chest, and I think he might have screamed then, but I can’t say for certain. Mostly, he was silent.

I stopped then, when he stopped struggling. Or perhaps he had stopped struggling long before that. I was straddling his waist, and he twisted on the ground, twisted, not to get away from me, but rather to face another direction. His arms was up around his head, and he tried to turn around, to roll to his stomach, as if all he wanted to do was to press his face against the ground and dig his fingers into the yielding soil. Hey, Vegeta. Hey, hey…

“Hey…” I moved lower, sitting on his thighs so I could lift him, my hands on his back, and press him against my chest. His arms hung limply, and I could feel his breath through the thickness of my clothes. I pressed him closer. Us, close together. My want, caught between us. I can’t explain it, Vegeta.

I pushed my hips forward, felt my hardness press against him. Felt it rub against the rough fabric of my pants.

“N…no.”

You say this, Vegeta, but I don’t think you’re talking to me. Your voice is foggy and far away. You push against me, but it’s like you’re not really trying, and your eyes are closed, not in pain, but more like you’re not really here. More like you’re not really awake.

My hands. Under his sweater. On his back, touching his shoulders, kneading the muscle there, moving up and down the warmth of his skin. On his flanks, my thumbs tracing the muscles on his stomach, the muscles on his chest. Up and down, restlessly touching, gliding, caressing. I touched him with my mouth, left wet marks on his throat and pressed my tongue against his cheek.

Oh, I taste you, Vegeta.

I took away his tight sweater, peeled it off him, and he was on his back, under me, me on him, and for a long time I don’t think I breathed; I just held him.

One breath.

I lifted myself on my hands and my knees, and reached inside my trousers, pushed them out of the way. One hand went around myself, stroking. I let go, just for a moment, to bring the hand up to my mouth, saliva pooling the palm. Brought it down again.

“Hn…aaah!” The muscles in my thighs trembled, my fingers tightened, moved faster, harder… I gasped, gasped, and tears were trickling down my face.

My other hand reached for Vegeta, stroking his front. As I touched him, I could feel a jolt go through his body. His eyes sprang open.

“Wha-!” He lashed out, but I was faster. I’m faster then you, Vegeta. I caught his arms and lifted him and slammed him into the ground, his head bounced against the ground. He fought, but blindly, completely naked, with blood running from his nose.

I spun him around, sure to leave bruises, and he caught himself, fingers into the earth. Isn’t this what you wanted, Vegeta? I moved lower, holding him there, as I pushed a knee between his legs, both my knees between his legs.

“Hhun.” I groaned, I couldn’t help it. I wanted… wanted… something. I couldn’t say, but I’ve had dreams about this.

Hands on his hips, and it was all a matter of lifting him up and pushing forward.

Warm. Hot. Vegeta. I laid down like this. It was unbelievable, really. I was on him, the whole of me, my lips touching his neck, his back against my chest and my stomach, the back of his thighs against the front of mine, and higher, where I was naked, the unprotected skin on the front of my hips lay snugly against the skin of his buttocks. It was soft. My erection was deep inside of him, filling him up, taking up any room he had to give.

“Hah.” I pressed my hips forward, even tighter, even further, and gritted my teeth, and lost control of my breathing. “Hah.” An ache in my chest. I rocked against him, once. Pulled away a little, abruptly jerked back. Close to something. I wept. I drew back, lifted my hips off his body, and my length glided out almost completely. Slowly, thickly, I lowered myself again, feeling every part of it. “Hah.”

Something broke, I think. I took a tight hold, held him under his arms and around his shoulders. I have you, Vegeta. My sweat was burning me, my muscles were quivering, and I began to thrust against him, back and forth, in and out. Harder, harder, using the strength of my whole body to come back on him. I pounded him repeatedly, self-servingly, much like I had done earlier with my fists. You can’t get away, Vegeta.

Closer. Vegeta. Closer. I want to hold you in my arms so tight. I want you to hold me just as tight. I want to kiss you on your mouth and feel you kiss me back.

Now.

Never.

Where did those thoughts come from?

He made a sound. Like pain.

I… No… Be still, Vegeta.Just… just… I…

This was not good. I was not happy.

One last thrust, deep as I could go. Every muscle in my body stiffened and strained. Spasmodically, my fingers dug into his flesh.

It was like letting go. I let go.

A call poured out of me. A simple call. See me, Vegeta. Don’t hate me, Vegeta.

I heard an answer. Vegeta, in my head, echoing my call.

Oh. He saw me, always had. From the day he’d met me, I had been in his thoughts. I was his challenge, his clash, his complement, his balance in the world. He argued with me, fought me, and cursed me. I amused him and infuriated him.

And he never really hated me.

For a moment, I felt peace. A restful heaviness had settled over my limbs, and I just lay there, breathing heavily. My eyes were closed, and my cheek rested on the soft slope where his neck met his shoulder.

I could hear the beating of his heart.

I raised my head. Reluctantly. It would have been nice to stay there a bit longer. Hands on the dry grass, I arched my upper body away from him. Looking down, I watched my member slowly slide out of him; saw the traces of white that followed. Unreal. But it was happening. This was how it was. He was laying there, on his stomach, his legs apart. Marks of my fingers stark on his shoulders.

Moving so I was sitting next to him, I tentatively reached out. Placed my hand flat on the middle of his back. No reaction.

“V-vegeta?” I turned him over, onto his back. Blood. Smeared all over him. His teeth were dark with it, thick tendrils running down the sides of his mouth. Behind half-closed lids, his eyes glimmered, stared fixedly at something that I couldn’t see.

I lifted him up, as gently as I could. Held him in my arms and felt him take a slow, uneven breath. I rocked back and forth, rocked us both back and forth.

Vegeta…

“I’ll make it right, Vegeta,” I said against his hair, my voice low and choked. When did I ever stop weeping? “I’ll make it right.”
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The Barrier