Much Like Suffocating | By : CardDragonBall Category: Dragon Ball Z > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 4298 -:- 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. |
WARNINGS AND DISCLAIMERS:
A.
If I owned the show (DBZ), dontcha think you’d be watching the smut
instead of just reading it? (Insert
standard discer her here: I don’t own
Vegeta, Goku, (any other characters mentioned herein) or the show they came
from DBZ DBGT or just plain DB.)
B.
ALL RIGHTY. *rubs hands
together and looks up terms for the list of warnings: * Sadly, this is AU, but folks, don’t run away
already screaming. You can read
it. I swear It’ll be chocked full of
lemony goodness. LEMONS (Not talking
about the fruit here, either. I’m
talking about the sex ones; although how did it come to be a ‘lemon’ anyway?) Homosexuality (er…duh.) Also (warnings I’ve never used before!
Gasp): bondage, shady professions, and
gra des descriptions. (Hopefully
graphic anywho.) Also, dirty language
doubtlessly. DARK. BAD THINGS HAPPEN HERE FOLKS.
C.
As always I strive to keep folk in character even when they are not
‘themselves’ in the canon-sense. If
you’re reading this and you’re like they are so not in character, give it a
chappie or two and see if you still think that. Not
that he gave a damn who his little brother fucked.
Night
came and they retreated back into the cave, each to their own place to sleep,
curled up and tried hard not to think about what tomorrow brought, and Vegeta
went upstairs, found Goku sitting on the pile of furs, legs crossed and eyes
closed. He just sat, contently, as if
in a trance of some kind. Vegeta
wondered if the half-breed mind reader had healed his mind yet. Wondered if it
would hurt and how badly it would piss off the Juro Gods.
Crossed
the room and stood in front of Goku, saw his black eyes open and look up at
him. Saw determination there,
fearlessness. A deep knowledge that
showed he would win, no matter the cost, his freedom would be won out of the
screams of Freiza’s dying throat. He
would wring his life back by drawing blood.
Vegeta
knelt in front of him, reached out and touched him, thought insanely that he
was touching something here that he couldn’t possibly attain. Felt useless and weak and stupid. Felt that Freiza hadn’t taken him against
his will, but taken him with his will and that made it hurt so much worse. Wanted the fucker dead so he could never
speak those words, could never say out loud what had happened.
Goku
ran his fingers across Vegeta’s hand on him.
Then looked at him, opened his mouth to say something, but no words came
out. Never would, probably, what good
were words anyway? He leaned forward,
put his arm around Vegeta, drew him close to him. Pressed his lips to Vegeta’s and let his mouth be opened up, met
the invasion of his tongue and pulled them both back down onto the piled furs. Ran his hands down over Vegeta’s back,
whimpered under him and pulled his legs up out of the way. Always willing to give and always so
frightened to take anything.
Vegeta
pulled theiotheothes off, ran his own hands over the bare skin, felt the
muscles under that soft skin, under the smoothness and the pale strength. Pressed his palm flat against the hard
stomach and felt the erection digging into him. Heard the whimpers, the little whines of need and pushed himself
up so he could look at Goku, could see his eyes and his face and watch as he
pushed himself into the larger body, felt the heat and saw the look of need in
the eyes.
Yes,
he wanted Goku. Had a feeling that
until he died, he would always want him.
Because together they were safe, together they understood, and apart
they had to live witis ois on their own.
That was a thought too difficult to really bear and he pushed it out of
his mind as he felt the hands press against his hips, draw him in deeper and
faster.
Thrust
into Goku and dropped his head down to kiss him again. Strove to remind him what freedom they were
fighting for. Because they had chosen
this. Chose to fight. Chose to lie here together. Chose to find this pleasure. It wasn’t forced, it wasn’t sold, and it was
theirs.
Tomorrow.
Freiza
died. But today he still lived and that
nightmare lived with him.
~~~***
Goten
realized in the dimmest corner of his outward mind that he was probably going
to make quite a scene. He had never
healed a mind so scarred as the one he was about to undo. Hell, he couldn’allyally say he had healed a
mind nearly as scarred. The only other
one that came close was Trunks, and his issues with his position as a murderinalf-alf-breed whose father wanted him dead was hardly comparable to the mental
torture that Goku had unknowingly endured.
Besides Trunks was younger, they had been alone when he’d done it and
all it took to snap him out of the trance and spectacle he had put on was a
kick in the gut.
Felt
the outer edges of the torn mind, and the slick bloody mental threads slipped
over his ‘fingers.’ He shuddered,
opened his eyes—his physical eyes—and looked at Krillin. Intensely for a moment, wanted to hate him,
but didn’t, because the little Juro hated himself enough already. Instead, he whispered: “What’s the trigger?”
Krillin,
dear Prince, looked away from him, and whispered just as softly: “Humming.”
Goten
gave Trunks a glance, pressed his shoulders against the edge of the cave and
hoped like hell that nobody heard anything of what he was about to dig out of
Goku’s mind. (Most often in procedures
such as this, the healer actually became possessed of the painful memories and
acted them out in their gory details.
With the sort of memories Goten was going to unearth, he hoped that did
not happen.) He cleared his throat and
started to hum, not in his chest, but in the deep parts of his mind, hummed
until it resonated outwards, through the thin silvery threads that tied him to
Goku’s mind and felt it open up. Felt
the torn and bloody areas roll and expose their cores. Saw how deeply that was tied to everything
else, how very much a part of his personality that had become and wondered if
it was even possible to undo that damage.
Lifted
the first pocket of disease in the mind, and was sucked straight down into
Goku’s childhood. Saw his brother. Saw Radditz, briefly. Never saw him for long, never liked him,
because Radditz hated him. When he saw
him—if he saw him—he would make him bloody.
With fists and feet and weapons.
Goten loosened the tie, that held the memory so painfully and felt it
flop out, felt it lose significance and fade away.yes"> … Yeah.
Yeah! (why?
I don’t know.)
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