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[ Himitsu ]	By : RenaSama Category: Dragon Ball Z > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 5513 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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
- 16
- 17
- 18
Himitsu

Author: Rena "Sama" / 'the light'

Contact: soaringshadow@yahoo.com

Date Posted: 3-1-06

Rated: NC-17

Warnings: kink, fetish, very lemony, het, yaoi, steamy, language. Enjoy ^^

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Just using the characters for my own amusement. So don't sue!

| ...words... | denotes thought.

Notes: This fic is inspired by some artwork I'd done recenly, "Sunset Kink" There
is actually a lot of story behind that pic that you may, or may not have picked up on.
So here it is.

[ Chapter .16 ]

My lips already miss his company.

Bejiita suddenly pushes himself off of me and hits the ground gracelessly. He sits up breathing
harshly. His legs bent at the knees and spread as he supports his upper body with his arms behind him.
What's left of his erection is surrounded by stained blue fabric. Stained from both sides. My flesh
hardens and stands straight up from me as I lie on my back and look at him. Watch him come down from
the height of sexual satisfaction. Sweat drips down his face. His chest heaves, his cheeks are flushed.
I desperately try to think of something other than the feel of his skin against mine, his taste at the
back of my throat, the tempting flesh that begs his mouth for attention. The warmth of his body and
the color or his eyes are so easy to yearn for.

The tension is palpable as Bejiita takes in huge, shuddering breaths. He shakes his head,
then looks at his hand and the seed that covers it in disbelief. He stares down at himself, then
between my legs. His gaze pricks my skin for just a moment before he shakily gets to his feet.
Staggering a few steps, he tries to catch his breath. He stands still only long enough to pull up his
tattered pants.

Looking at his hands again, an enigmatic expression eases onto on his typically unreadable face.

He flies off quickly into the night without looking back.

And of course, I watch him as he goes.

I very slowly pick myself up off the wet ground. I standing shakily, not trusting my legs
to hold me for very long. The wind howls past my ears as I stand in the snow and the darkness
alone. Soon, realization comes crashing down.

My god.. I can't go home! They'll... they'll know! How could they not know!? I feel like the
entire night's events are somehow written across my sweaty forehead. My clothes are torn. My face is
flushed. My skin covered in traces of semen that do not belong to me. I reek of sex. Even when I
didn't quite have any.

| What have I done? |

Every shuddering breath I take is shame. Every thought of him and the excruciating
yearning for the taste of his lips, for his voice in my ears, for hands on my skin again, is accompanied
by unimaginable guilt. No matter how achingly good it feels, it's wrong. My heart sinks in time with the
insistent throbbing below my waist.

I wish he hadn't left.

For the first time in my life, I wish I were stronger...

I wish I'd never found him in bed with Bulma that day. How different would my life be now?

Is this what regret feels like?

Everything is so new to me. So foreign. The me before cheating, as compared to after is somehow
different. I don't look very different. But when I look at my hands, the same hands that touched him,
worshiped him only minutes ago, they don't feel like mine anymore. I know cheating is wrong. I know it's
horrible. I know I would be hurt if Chichi had done this to me. But for the life of me I couldn't stop myself.
I didn't want to. How could someone feel so many conflicting emotions, be pulled in so many different and
strange directions?

The wind begins to freeze any skin it comes in contact with. The cold is made extra bitter without
Bejiita to warm me. My once finely made clothes just barely clinging to me. As the wind rushes through my
rags I wonder if I might die.

In an act of self preservation alone, I teleport home.

[ ..... ]

I have no idea what time it is. I don�t even know if anyone's home. Or if they're safe. If
they're well. If Bulma is all right. Or where Bejiita has gone to. Or where I'm going. Nor why I
can't stop trembling. Is it really so cold now ...without him?

I have a difficult time walking as I stumble up the stairs, holding onto the wall as if I really
need it for support. My legs are still so weak. Clumsy hands smear water and small traces of
blood on the walls as I hold my wounded shoulder. My bloodied rags looking worse in the light.

"Oh my god... Dad.. w- what happened to you...?" Goten whispers from the foot of the stairs,
making me flinch horribly. I didn't even sense him. I was so utterly unaware of his presence. I stare
at him wide eyed, completely caught off guard. Again. The heat bubbles to my face. A wave of
shame hits me. Of all the things I'd hidden from him, from them, from even myself, his simple
question somehow made it all seem infinitely worse. Suddenly, I can't even look at him. I'm
already assuming he knows everything. Like he could see right through me. The classic sign of
a guilty conscience.

Goten just watches me in genuine worry. He always catches me in times like these..

"Don't look at me that way..."

"What way Dad?"

I feel his eyes and the memory of Bejiita caresses on my skin. I shrink into myself.
My hand wrapping tightly around my hurt shoulder, re-opening the wound . Blood seeps between
my fingers and down my arm. I barely notice.

"Dad!" he yells rushing towards me but stops short when he sees the look on my face...
a face that said it all if you knew how to look.

"...What happened?"

My lips burned from the sweet recollection of violent kisses and broken vows. My heart
pounds in my chest as blood rushes past my ears.

| Don't ask me that... |

"Please... don't tell your mother..." is all I can manage as I lumber up the stairs awkwardly
and somehow find my way to the bathroom.

Goten watches me as I go and luckily makes no movement to help me.

[ ..... ]

The scalding hot water stings my cold skin as it beats against my back. I just let the water
run over me. Letting it heat my skin to an insane degree. Suddenly I couldn't stand any temperature
lower than boiling. I lean against the tiled wall, absently lathering up a sponge. I try to think
of nothing.

My arm barely moves at first. Small circles of soap cover my chest where Bejiita scratched me.
Where he touched me. I shiver when my fingers brush over the mark he left.

I could make this so much easier on myself. Take a sensu, be rid of these tell tale signs,
and pretend this was all some drunken hallucination. A horny little dream just like all my others.
But it wasn't. Marks or no, I would always remember. Because even now he is here. I can smell
him in the thick air. I can taste him at the back of my throat. I can still feel the fleeting, blissful
agony of his touch. I begin to panic. I panic and I scrub. Scrub hard everywhere I can reach. My skin
turns rosy from the constant friction and hot water. I soap up my hair and wash the suds from my body.
But he remains. No matter how hard I push the sponge against my skin or how many times I wash my hair
or brushed my teeth, he remains. Even from this one... encounter, he'd permeated my every pore. He'd gotten
under my skin so that he could not be washed away, could not be forgotten.

As if I've been marked.

The perfect ring of teeth in my shoulder, these scratches, his smell that clings so desperately to
my skin were all my own version of the scarlet letter. Ironically one of Chichi's favorite books.

I finally give up and turn the shower off.

All that flows down the drain is soap.

The billowing steam that swirls around me reminds me so much of Bejiita. I wonder if soon everything
will remind me of him.

Without the water running and the usual noises of the house, there is complete silence. The faint
sound of nothingness. The crickets outside do not chirp. The wind does not howl. The water doesn�t even
bother to break the silence by dripping onto the tub. I'm left completely alone with myself and my
own thoughts.

After all is said and done, I don�t try to think up lies to tell my wife if she asks where I was.
I don't wonder how I'm gonna explain to Goten what happened to me. Or why I've come home in such
a mess at some ungodly hour. Nor do I lie and tell myself it was all just a momentary lapse in judgment.

I simply wonder when I'll see him again...

[ ..... ]

The next morning is not quite as painful as you might imagine. I feel drained. I have a strange
feeling of numbness. The volume on my life has been turned down. Everything seems far away.

Amazingly, Chichi does not ask where I was. Apparently she didn�t even notice I was gone.

"Mgh..mornin'..." she mutters as she shuffles into the kitchen in the same outfit she wore last night.
I threw mine away as fast as I could. She puts her hand on my shoulder to steady herself from her
hangover as she walks by. I wince and almost shrug her hand off. It felt cold. Very cold. It almost
hurt. Why?...

Goten interrupts my thoughts as for once, he says good morning to both of us when he sits
at the table. He pulls his chair in noisily.

"OOh not so loud..." Chichi grumbles, holding her head.

"Now... what to make for breakfast." she asks no one in particular.

"Pancakes!" Goten says happily. I say nothing. The fact that I'm not enthusiastic about food is a
dead give away that something is wrong. If she weren't half drunk, she'd think I was dying.

Chichi looks down at me through her messy bangs.

"What's wrong?"

"..."

I can feel Goten's eyes on me again. The same worried and maybe suspicious eyes from last night.

"You know, you don't look so good Gokuu sa," she slurs. A worried expression on her sleepy, but
kind face. It hurt me to look at her. I had no idea guilt could feel so crushing. We didn't even have sex! But
it really doesn't even matter. Because even now I wondered if I'd get the chance to do it again. Cheating
is cheating after all.

"Are you sick? I know its cold out..." she asks, putting the back of her hand against my forehead.
I visibly flinch this time but manage to squelch the urge to slap her hand away. What's wrong with me?!

"I'm just hungry! I'll be fine!" I lied. Talking a little too loudly.

"Yea I guess you're right. But still... after breakfast I'll run you a hot bath."

"That sounds great." Best idea I've heard in a while.

[ ..... ]

Chichi moves slowly trying to fill the tub and light the fire under it. She's very tired, I can tell.
But she does it anyway. For me.

What I wouldn't give for her strength.

It's sweet how even though her head must be pounding and she can barely see straight that she still
insists on performing what she believes are her 'duties' as mother and wife. I know she has her rough spots,
but there are times when she's so good to me I feel I don't deserve her. Maybe it's just the guilty conscience
talking. Maybe it�s just a way to remind myself of who it is I've been hurting all this time.

Whether she knows it or not.

"There! Done!" she says, huddling under her warm coat.

"You're the only person who'd use an outdoor tub in this cold!" she yells as she runs into the house.

"Thanks Chichi!!"

| I'm so sorry.... |

[ ..... ]

I sit back in my favorite wooden tub. I don�t care how cold it is when I'm chest deep in hot water.
Practically cooking myself Chichi always says.

| I indulge her as much as I can. Out of obligation. Out of guilt. |

Being in water always manages to make me calmer. Like I was going back to my roots, back where
I belonged when submerged. Truly in my element. Even now, at such a tumultuous time in my life, it manages
to be a salve for the pains I feel. The smallest shred of ease and relief it give me is cherished and enjoyed.

I stare up absently at the ice and snow covered trees above me. I remember sitting here not
long ago as I looked through the same cluster of branches. Back when green leaves adorned them and warm,
balmy air blew past them, rustling my hair as it went. It was late last summer, when I thought of Bulma and Bejiita
every time I closed my eyes. When they'd came to me in dreams, whispering promises of pleasure only they
could give. When I lacked true outlets for what I needed. What I wanted. Before I failed. Those days
were actually easier. Because now that I'd found an outlet, of course, it made things worse. But I'm sure
you knew that already.

What am I doing with my life? Am I really so self destructive?

I close my eyes and shift down further into the water, hoping for more comfort from its warmth.
I hear someone breathing. The sound of snow being crushed under feet gets louder and louder.

I know he's here before I even open my eyes. Except this time, he was not accompanied by Bulma,
nor with the intent of having a 'good time' with me. I feel guilt for even wishing he had.

Arms crossed over a blue chest first come into view before I look up at his angry face. He stands in
front of my tub, looming menacingly over me. He comes here full of rage and pride. He looks down at me over
his nose in disdain. I pissed him off simply by existing. His dark eyes burning on me. Betraying him without his
knowledge. His eyebrows scrunch as he talks at me rather than to me.

"Kakarotto. What happened last night won't be happening ever ag-"

His lips are crushed against mine before I even realize I moved. My hand wraps around the nape of his
neck. My fingers already winding into his hair. I'm alarmed by my own speed and reaction to him. At my inability
to go five seconds without touching him. As is he. Bejiita's eyes are wide and enraged. He breathes rapidly.
His face reddens as he tries not to push his tongue against mine. He punches at my ribs frantically,
breathing hard through his nose. Then he just digs his fingers into the skin on my chest. His hands strain
against me as he works to push himself away.

"RRGgh!! MMmh!" He struggles ardently as he growls fiercely, moaning into my mouth. The sounds
rumble in his chest and I tremble. Why is even his anger so exciting? I grew hard the instant I saw him.
His eyebrows separate as his eyes begin to roll to the back of his head. I think we are the only people
who kiss with their eyes open. There's a wet, slurping sound in my ears, and the voice in my head that used
to scream 'NO!' 'This is wrong!' or 'Stop!' gets smaller and smaller.

He didn't come here for this. He came to put an end to it once and for all. Giving me yet another
opportunity to fail my wife. Giving himself another opportunity to fail both Bulma and himself.

Bejiita's warm hands pushes futilely at my chest. He whimpers and tries in
vain to escape from
what he wants. He's a sin I've committed one too many times before to be able to give
him up for good. Yet
the real tragedy is the miniscule bit of space between our bodies where the air dares
to seep through. I lunge
forward in the tub. Hot water sloshes over the sides of the wooden rim as I hold him
against me tightly. My
arm wraps around his waist then slides down to the small of his back. Then lower still.
"Onhm!!" My fingers
glide over whatever I can reach. Absorbing his heat through his clothes. He gives me the warmth I'd already
grown addicted to. He grasps the sides of my face, finally kissing me back in earnest. I worship him with my
mouth. Winding my tongue around his shows just how sorry I really am. He runs his hands up through my hair,
down to the nape of my neck and back again. Goosebumps break out over my skin. I quake with desire. We share
a slow, hard, excruciatingly needy kiss. A kiss where we don't even bother to stop and breathe. Spending what
little air we have just to moan.

"Uunnh.."

My stomach coils and I hold him tighter still.

"NHh!!" there�s a sharp, angry sigh and a rapid intake of breath as Bejiita leans into me. I can't
stand being without his smell or taste for very long. My bare chest rises and falls haphazardly with my ragged
breathing as we finally part. My head swims as I try to memorize every line of his face.

"Bejiita..." I breathe. I can't think of anything else to say. What else can I say?

He looks at me wide eyed and shocked, then licks his bottom lip ever so slightly. My forehead rests
against his. Our noses not even an inch or so apart. We just stare into each others troubled eyes. All I can
hear is his breathing. After a few moments his face then takes on a look of absolute panic and I wonder if
we've been found out.

He moves back and smacks my hands away as if they burned. Which they did.

What did he see in my eyes?

What did I see in his?

He backs up slowly, looking at me in disbelief.

"N..no don't go... please..."

He looks down at the ground, still moving away from me.

"Don�t!" I say just loud enough for him to hear as I leap out of the tub.

He stops abruptly and looks down at me. You know where. I'm sure I look a bit different in broad
daylight. There's no cloak of darkness or sheen of pale moonlight to make him think this is all just a dream. His
face goes crimson again as if he were somehow startled by my nudity. Like he hadn't seen me naked before.
Whether I had clothes on or not. My face heats up as well. He continues to stare at me as I walk towards him,
completely uncaring about the cold and my lack of clothes. My bare feet crunch against the soft snow. Just
before I reach out to put a hand on his shoulder, he smacks it away again, then looks at the ground to his left.

"No."

"Bejiita-..." I begin, reaching for him again. My hand is batted away.

"Don't speak... Don't...look at me..." he says. His voice wavering and clipped as if the words were
forcing themselves out of his mouth.

"Don't... touch me..." He whispers, shuddering lightly. But I don't think it was from the cold.

"But..." I walk a little closer.

"Stay away...!"

He was the one who sought me out...

"We need to talk about this!"

But even if he wasn't shutting me out completely, what would I even say? 'More please?'

I just feel angry now. Angry and hopeless. And of course, aroused. How much need can a person
feel before it drives him insane or kills him?

He says nothing. Dark eyes burning feverishly on my skin. Is this how I look at him?

"But if I you won't even let me... I mean I can't... Last night we..." I stutter sounding foolish and confused.

He says nothing.

"How the hell am I supposed to act around you now?!!" I grab him by the front of his shirt pulling
him close to me again. My erection resting against his stomach. His against my leg.

"What am I supposed to do?!... What you want me to do...?" I ask softly.

| What would you do? |

He punches me lightly in the jaw. Just enough to move me back. Make me let go and stop poking him.
I bet he meant that to hurt. But of course it didn't. I finally let go of him sadly. He looks at the hand that
punched me angrily. Then his gaze shifts out to the endless expense of white, at the trees, everywhere that
wasn't occupied by my naked, aroused body.

"I don't know..."

"..."

After that, nothing else is said as he retreats. But this time he doesn't fly away. He doesn't run
away. He walks. Slowly. Like he didn't really want to leave at all.

Continued.
- 16
- 17
- 18
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[ Himitsu ]