Pure Evil | By : sefiru Category: Dragon Ball Z > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 10055 -:- 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. |
Pure Evil
Summary: Kakarott puts Vegeta in his place … and Vegeta
likes it. Chapter 2: the Saiyans work out their relationship and several people
get a nasty shock.
Pairings: Goku/Vegeta
Warnings: R, Lime (this chapter), yaoi, BDSM, pole dancing,
people who think too much during sex, Saiyan culture theories. Possible OOC.
Disclaimer: Don’t own, don’t sell, don’t ask, don’t tell.
In the morning I
wake up more easily than I have in decades. I know exactly why: Kakarott is
sleeping naked next to me. I remember the previous day’s events as soon as I
wake up – in fact, I dream it in the moments before waking. I feel transformed.
Kakarott stripped my false pride from me in a moment, and at the same time gave
me back the true pride I had never known before. Kakarott trusts me.
Even now I could reach back and crush his throat before he has a chance to
wake. But I won’t. Kakarott wants me. Without his own masks, he is truly
a superlative example of the Saiyan race; that I’m strong enough to interest
him is highly flattering.
The Prince of
All Saiyans thinks Kakarott’s attention is flattering. My ancestors are having
apoplexy in the afterlife, and it serves them right, the insufferable bastards.
And he will have me as a lover. I still don’t take no for an answer.
He stirs behind
me and sits up. “Still here, I see.”
“Hn.”
“Good. I won’t
have to hunt you down.”
“If you think I
have any objections, Kakarott, you’re as big a fool as you pretend to be.”
That sets the
tone for the rest of the day. He lends me some clothes – my own are presumably
still lying in small pieces on the sparring ground – and I’m astonished that he
owns something other than orange. Then we talk. He tells me how Chichi threw
him out once she figured out he was humoring her, and more about what he was
really thinking in all our battles. I relate how every time he pounded me into
the dirt, it left me raging hard; no one ever knew because I wear a cup. And I
tell him about the first time I saw him go Super Saiyan, as I lay dying in the
battle with Frieza. That single moment of pure awe, untainted by envy; the
urge, never realized, to bow at his feet.
On hearing this
he stands up, ascends to Super Saiyan. Planting his fists on his hips, he tilts
an eyebrow at me as if to say, well?
My first
reaction is to lick my lips. He’s as magnificent now as he was then. And as
awe-inspiring. Free of my drive to surpass him, I do what I should have done
long ago. I rise from my seat, step over to him, and kneel.
He runs a hand
through my hair, finding the sweet spots behind my ears. “This is one thing
I’ve always liked about you. No hesitation.”
“Hesitation is
pointless.”
“Most people do
it anyway.” He releases his transformation. “I want to learn more about our
people.”
“I have an
extensive library. I’ll have to start teaching you the Saiyan language.”
“No need,” he
says. In Saiyan. Once again I cannot hide my shock. “That blow to the head
didn’t erase everything, you know.”
I breathe
deeply. “In that case, I can think of other ways to spend the afternoon.”
It’s inevitable
that our new living arrangements will come out eventually, but it’s still a
surprise when it actually happens. It starts with a simple knock on the door.
From the ki we can tell it’s Bulma, so Kakarott pulls up his pants and goes to
answer it. I can hear her demanding to see me. She sounds worried – not that
she loves anything besides her work, but she does care in a friendly sort of
way.
“I’m afraid he’s
rather tied up at the moment,” Kakarott replies. He’s using his Goku voice,
which I still despise, though now I can at least find it amusing.
“So he is here,”
the woman says, and then when he makes no move to stand aside, “I’m not leaving
until I see him.” Now there is an effective threat. Kakarott lets her in.
She runs into
the room and stops short at the sight that greets her. Me. Naked, kneeling
against the wall, hands chained above my head. As she stands gaping, Kakarott
pads in behind her. “I told you he was tied up.”
Her brow
furrows. She whirls and aims a slap at him, but he easily intercepts her hand.
I smirk behind her back; he’s put aside his Goku persona, and nobody touches
Kakarott without permission. Not even me.
“You bastard,”
she hisses. “How could you abuse him this way?”
This time I
speak up. “Saiyans do not abuse, woman.”
“Those aren’t ki
restraints, Bulma. He could get out of them if he wanted to.”
The look on her
face as she processes this is priceless. To her it must be a bizarre idea:
Vegeta, Prince of All Saiyans and-don’t-you-dare-forget-it, willingly
chained naked to the wall. And by gentle and mild-mannered Goku, of all people.
How well our respective masks have deceived those around us.
She looks from
one to the other. “You – you perverts!” she exclaims, and flees out the door. I
sigh; Bulma always was hopelessly vanilla.
“How long until
everyone knows, do you think?”
“I don’t care,
Kakarott. If they don’t understand that I think this is pure joy, that’s their
problem.”
He cocks an
eyebrow at me. “Pure joy? Funny, I thought you said once your heart was pure
evil.”
I blush. I could
be such a blowhard in those days. Hmm … I wonder if I can put that talent for
grandstanding to good use? That will take some planning. But as for right now –
“I may have been once, but now I’m all yours.”
“So you are,
Vegeta. Now where were we?” He takes off his pants.
A few days later
we come home from sparring to find all four of our boys waiting for us. Gohan,
Goten and Trunks look nervous, but Mirai just leans expressionless against the
wall. Kakarott marches in and sits in the big armchair and I stand beside him,
arms crossed. I know exactly what we look like: an enthroned king and his
henchman. Appropriate.
“To what do we
owe this visit?” Kakarott asks, as if it isn’t obvious.
The brats glance
at each other. Goten begins, “We heard the two of you were …”
“…sleeping
together,” Trunks finishes.
“That’s true.”
“And Bulma said
you had Vegeta chained up.”
“That’s also
true.”
They stare. “But
you hate Goku,” Gohan says.
“Hn. Kakarott is
more than just Goku, boy.” Now they take a second look at him and their faces
change as they realize who exactly is sitting before them. Not Goku the
overgrown child, easily distracted and scatterbrained; but the undefeated
fighter, who could penetrate any enemy’s weaknesses, who didn’t know the
meaning of surrender: Kakarott. A man I would happily follow to hell and back.
Multiple times if necessary. And the boys have Saiyan instincts too, even if
they’re half-bloods; I can see the submission response take hold.
“But – ” Trunks
this time. “But you keep saying that the House of Vegetasei is strongest of the
Saiyans.”
“Because for
centuries we were. Now that someone stronger has appeared, our claim is
finished.”
Kakarott looks
at Mirai. “You know something. Spill it.”
“Kakarott. In my
timeline you claimed Vegeta right after he first went Super Saiyan. It’s the
House of Kakarott, there. You will have no argument from me.” And he bows
slightly – which is amazing, the boy is as stiff-necked as I am. I can see why
he never mentioned this before. I probably would have strangled him.
After a few more
reassurances that we haven’t gone crazy, Kakarott herds them out; true to his
word, Mirai backs him up and we are left alone at last.
“So, shall I
start calling you Prince Kakarott?”
“Ha. I don’t
think that’s necessary.”
“Oh, yes – I
wanted to go out to buy some things.”
“Don’t stay out
too late.” He licks his lips suggestively.
“Hn. Not a
chance.”
***
So Vegeta is Kakarott’s slave now … I’m liking this.
Next chapter: Vegeta puts on a private show for Kakarott.
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