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Mind Rape	By : MutantPoptart Category: Dragon Ball Z > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 18434 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not claim to own or intend to profit from any of the themes or characters taken from the Dragonball Z franchise and used in this story.

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A Presence on the Hilltop

With a little work, Buu allowed Vegeta to go out on his own more often and for longer periods of time.

This time, he wasn’t going far. As the Saiyan drifted further from the hut, Buu’s eyes lingered after him, as if looking away might lose him forever.
Vegeta had assured him gently that he would return, careful to keep his voice even and eyes steady. Buu had become very good at reading him and Vegeta couldn’t afford to get caught in this lie.

It was a sunny day. Vegeta found the trail near camp that Buu had shown him months ago when they’d first begun meeting. He found he quite enjoyed the peaceful walks beneath the trees now—the hikes.
It turned out that Bow hadn’t eaten all the birds on the premises and the sounds of their merry chirping followed Vegeta throughout his stroll. They seemed to be enjoying their vacant planet. He wondered if they knew that all the human’s had gone abruptly extinct. Did they care? Did they care that no human may ever walk the Earth again?
They chirped along excitedly.
Maybe they did know.
He hardly had cause to train anymore, not that Buu discouraged it. When Vegeta felt the urge, he would take to the sky above the hut and Buu would follow him outside, keeping to the ground. There was always something strange in the mutant’s stare as he watched from below. It wasn’t with lust that his eyes followed the rushing, jabbing form, but with a different kind of longing. Vegeta got the odd sense that the mutant wanted to join him. They’d never sparred together before and the idea of it was strange. Still, Vegeta couldn’t imagine why, after everything else they’d done, Buu would hesitate at this.
The thought occurred to him that the mutant was afraid of hurting him.
When Vegeta would come down, sweating and panting after his solo sessions, that strange, wistful look would be gone from Buu’s face and replaced by another, more familiar one. The mutant would pull Vegeta into his enormous embrace and find some patch of skin to hungrily latch his mouth to-- kissing, sucking, licking, as if the show had worked up an appetite in him.
Vegeta had developed a sense for his companion, a near intuitive knowing for what the mutant craved and when. Sometimes Vegeta would watch him advance, knowing in his eyes and posture what the mutant wanted, and so he lifted his head to offer up his neck for Buu’s coiling tongue, or drop his arms so the mutant could embrace him. Sometimes Buu would emerge from the trees around the lake while Vegeta dried his naked limbs. When he saw the advancing mutant with that dark, intent look, Vegeta let the cloth fall, exposing himself to Buu’s appraising gaze. Buu’s hand would wrap beneath his arms, pulling his slight frame up to his mouth. He would kiss Vegeta deeply, his thrusting tongue meeting Vegeta’s own gentle lapping.
Still, Buu never forced himself on him the way he had in the grove. Instead, he seemed to follow Vegeta’s lead, only going where Vegeta allowed him. And Vegeta found himself allowing him more. He even took enjoyment from it. His body reacted to the way Buu touched him like a light turning on at the flick of a switch. Buu knew how to pull real pleasure from his body the way he learned to pull real meaning from his words and manner. Vegeta was helpless to stifle the shiver that overtook him when Buu kissed that spot on the inside of his thigh, and the wrenching gasp when Buu’s tongue finally dragged a long strip up the underside of his cock after an hour of only teasing glances and his hot breath on the enflamed skin. His stomach twisted at the thought of his own desperately bucking hips, and the warm tears that flowed down the sides of his face. He wanted to feel disgusted with himself, hatred like he used to, but he found he could muster less and less every day. It seemed this new man he’d become had no limit to his depravity.
Vegeta swiped a gloved hand across his forehead as he reached the summit of a rocky peak. From there he would be able to look out over the whole valley and even see the greyish mound of the hut.
Vegeta sat down on a half-sunken rock and took in the horizon. It was darkly beautiful for a planet that had been home to so much death. The perfectly cut clearing of the camp was alien amidst so much wild growth. He held out his hand like he was about to use his Galick Gun and closed one eye so he was blocking his view of the hut in the valley. It was more natural without it, and for a moment Vegeta could imagine a world without the Buu’s. He opened both eyes again and dropped his hand. The camp was back and the humans were all dead again. Oddly, he didn’t feel much different.
Dropping his gaze from the valley, Vegeta looked down at his hands. He found himself doing it a lot lately, as if trying to recognize them. He removed one glove to get a better look. Naked, his hand seemed even stranger.
His hands were Buu’s favorite. In the evening, the mutant had made a ritual of removing the gloves. Slowly, he would peal the leather away, then take each naked digit into his mouth, so careful to avoid his fangs as he suckled them, worshiped them. Vegeta couldn’t make sense to himself why he felt the gentle lapping on his fingers all the way down in the pit of his stomach. A tingling sensation went up Vegeta’s spine at the memory and he tried to shake it, but instead of settling, the feeling seemed to rest in the back of his head.
Someone was watching him.
Vegeta turned around. Maybe Buu had caught the lie somehow and he’d followed him up there. Vegeta honed in of the fleeting energy, but it seemed to only dance in his peripheral senses.
No, it wasn’t Buu, not a tangible presence. Still, he felt like he knew it.
It took a while to pinpoint where he’d felt it before. It reminded him of the tingling feeling he used to get when Dende would speak to him telepathically. The Namekian would be a passive presence in his mind, hearing his thoughts and responding but never affecting him, never imposing or taking up space. He was like a ghost. It had been a long time since he’d felt that airy presence, not since he’d scolded the Guardian and shut him out of his head.
He’d thought then that the Namekian was manipulating him. Now he wished he’d listened better.
What would Dende say to him now, given the way things had turned out?
He bowed his head and dug a boot into the dirt.
A medium sized beam of pure energy could burn straight through an unguarded body.
The warm wind blew over the summit, brushing gently over his hair. Vegeta inhaled deeply. He lifted his hand and watched the golden sphere, like a tiny sun, grow in his palm. When it reached the size of a Namekian Dragon Ball, he turned his palm to his chest.
Once he was gone, Buu would leave. There would be nothing to keep him there. Maybe he would be so affected, he would implode, destroying himself. Then Dende and the others could return and maybe Bulma could construct another Dragon Radar so they could revive the Earthlings and everyone else.
He turned his attention to the vast green valley bellow, beyond the clearing of Buu’s camp, out into the crystal blue horizon. He let the blissful song of the birds fill his head. The planet was still thriving after all it had been through, still beautiful and still glowing with life. Perhaps now, it would be allowed to blossom into the glorious organism it once was, before the Buu’s and before the Saiyans. He thought again of the lavender-haired boy and his elusive smile and felt a warm trickle down his cheek. He laughed.
“My son,” he said, and the tears flowed freely. “Until we meet again.”
The subtle tingling in the back of his head grew, almost throbbing, and Vegeta turned swiftly to look around the hilltop again. Someone was there. The ball of energy dissipated in his hand.
“D-Dende.” He didn’t know why he said it but the presence he felt at that moment was so powerfully familiar that it pulled the name from his lips.
But the hilltop was empty and quiet except for the soft whisper of the wind and the oblivious birds still singing in the trees.
When it was clear he was truly alone, Vegeta relaxed. Yet the strange weight in his mind didn’t lift. It was there more prominently now, almost solid, like an anchor.
For some reason, he drew strength from it. It didn’t threaten him, but made him feel like he wasn’t alone.
Vegeta blinked around at the valley down to his empty palm. His eyes fell again on Buu’s camp.
He had a purpose there. It was worn and faded now but still there.

A/N: So soon?! Is this a fluke? Merry Late Christmas! I hope you guys had a nice holiday (if you celebrate that. If not, enjoy the chapter anyway!). This was fun to write. The next one is in the works and will be up soon!
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Mind Rape