Uncharted Waters

Chapter III


Dreams of a planet long forgotten were interrupted by a sense of heaviness. Piccolo awoke to the feel of his legs being gently spread apart. Warm hands settled on his inner thighs, kneading in small circular rotations. Not bothering to open his eyes, he allowed himself to simply dissolve into the sensation. Down his legs, up his back, and returning to his thighs with just the right amount of pressure, he decided that perhaps he’d stay in bed for the day.

After about ten minutes or so of this preferential attention, the hands slowly crept upward. The Namek groaned in approval as he was massaged from behind. A feeling of warmth flooded his lower half, and he shifted slightly to accommodate the hardness trapped between himself and the bed. The fondling momentarily desisted when his lover pulled him upward and settled him on all fours. Piccolo felt boneless; any thought of resistance now was absurd. Especially when those clever fingers found his erection, stroking him to an even greater level of arousal. A whimper escaped his lips as he felt himself being spread and a slicked digit worked its way into his entrance. Within a matter of seconds, his sweet spot was found and plundered.

“Vegeta...”

A pause and nip to his shoulder was the only reply.

The green man rocked backward moaning deep in his throat silently pleading for more. The wetness of his lover’s mouth trailing tiny kisses down his spine caused him to shiver and when that talented tongue settled on that tight ring of muscle working him methodically, he nearly cried out twisting his hands in the cotton sheets. Strong but teasing strokes lapped at his entrance and much too soon they ceased only to be replaced with a finger shortly joined by another. Slowly, he was stretched. In and out, they moved within him, hitting him just right each time. The other hand returned to his erection pumping him slowly in an uneven rhythm. Jolts of intense pleasure surged up his spine. He rocked between the two sensations, wanting more of each. The teasing was almost too much to take. He threatened for more, even begged but his cries were in vain. Letting out a defeated groan, he tried to hurry the process by driving his backside further into his mate’s fingers. This was a mistake however as this only caused the hand to move from his throbbing member to steady his hips. Learning quickly, he forced himself to still. Finally, the penetration behind him deepened as his mate’s movements quickened. Faster and harder, until the Namek was nearly sick with need, a third finger snuck its way in—

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

“Shit!” Vegeta hissed through clenched teeth, his own aching erection dying for attention. He removed his fingers and quickly rolled to the side of the bed and under the sheets. “Does that bastard have radar?!”

“I’ll kill him this time, I swear it!” Piccolo said, snarling into his pillow. A bucket of ice water would have been welcome in comparison.

Swiftly, he left the bed, and with a flash of light, was fully clothed, much to the dismay of the Saiyan prince. This was the third time their carnal activities had been interrupted. As such, it was a mightily ticked Namek who flung open the door staring at the intruder with a glint of violence in his eyes.

“What?” he snapped.

Goku did not seem to notice that his host was in a disagreeable mood. “You’re out of eggs.”

“What?” Piccolo could not process what he had just heard. He was missing out on having his ass fucked through the mattress because of some fucking eggs?! And why in the hell was he hearing about it? He was a master of the Lookout; there were others to do this kind of shit.

“Tell Popo about it!” he snarled showing just a hint of fang.

‘Kill him! Blast his head off! Sell his organs to an orphanage; they’ll eat anything. Better yet tear his limbs off and...’

Vegeta’s tirade continued in Piccolo’s mind. He was beginning to give the not-so-subtle suggestions serious thought, especially when the Earthling cum Saiyan before him simply shrugged. “I don’t know where he is, and Dende looked bu

Piccolo ground his teeth together. He took a deep breath, attempting to force himself to calm. “Why don’t you go to the city and eat there?”

In what could only be described as a pout, Goku looked to the ground and shuffled his feet. His orange gi was wrinkled, and his hair was more unkempt than usual. Piccolo almost felt sorry for him... Almost.

“Because I don’t have any money.”

With an exasperated sigh, Piccolo looked to the dresser and summoned a black billfold into his grasp. He opened it, taking out the entirety of the cash and throwing the wallet back on the dresser.

“Hey!” came an outraged cry from behind him.

Piccolo ignored it and handed Goku the money. “Here, now go.” He paused, taking more of his appearance in. “And buy some new clothes why you’re at it.”

The smallest of grins formed on the Saiyan’s face. “Thank you, Piccolo”

“Don’t thank me, it’s not my money.”

Goku leaned to the left, looking around Piccolo in the direction of the prince he couldn’t see but knew was back there. “Thanks, Vegeta.”

“Fuck you, Kakarott!”

The grin broadened a bit, and he floated off the ground, making his way towards the city far below them. Piccolo glanced back over his shoulder, “I’ll be right back”

“Well, don’t take too long.”

The Namek walked out the door, shutting it behind him. Vegeta leaned back with a sigh; he had wanted so much to be intimate with his lover, but it seemed every time they got close, Kakarott would interrupt it. First, the idiot apparently got lost and couldn’t find his room. Then, he wanted to ask permission to train on the balcony. And now, eggs. The excuses were becoming weaker each time. Bullshit. He knew the real reason why, even if his mate didn’t believe him. Of course, Piccolo always tried to see the best in people. Well, not always, but when it came to Goku, he did. The Namek felt as if he owed the low-class Saiyan something, though Vegeta couldn’t fathom why. Piccolo openly admitted to liking Goku due to his sense of honor; Vegeta simply tolerated the moron. Although, he did feel sorry for him. He had lost his bond mate after all.

A feeling of anger suddenly shot through his body, but it wasn’t his anger. His mate was furious. A few moments passed when the door suddenly crashed open and slammed shut again. Piccolo stood in front of the bed, hands clenched and a frown etched on his lips.

“He was lying!”

Vegeta didn’t look surprised but settled against the headboard listening to his mate as he continued to fume.

“Popo was in the gardens not three yards from his room. He said that with two Saiyans up here now, he wouldn’t risk there not being any food, so he replenishes the stores every night. We weren’t out of anything!”

“I told you.”

Piccolo considered his Saiyan for a moment before replying. The notion was ludicrous and he said as much. “But that so stupid!”

Vegeta nodded. “Well, yes, but look who we’re talking about.”

“Why would he be jealous? ChiChi died three, almost four weeks ago. He should still be quite raw about this, shouldn’t he? Especially considering how it happened. I would think he would have better things to do or think about other than bother us.” Piccolo shook his head in disbelief, “I can’t see him being that...puerile.”

“Can’t you?” the prince countered. “In almost everything he does, it’s with a naiveté, or purity as you would call it.” He shot his mate a look, but continued before the green warrior could respond, “He’s had something taken away from him, and now that it’s gone, he can’t stand to see anyone else with it either. Why do you think he constantly refuses to stay with Bulma? She’s outwardly open with her emotions. She dotes on Trunks and practically manhandles Yamcha. You and I, on the other hand, are not known for our displays of public affection.”

“Well, what in the hell is he doing? Putting his ear to the wall? How does he know when we...” He trailed off.

Vegeta smirked at his mate’s lack of wording, then grimaced at the thought of Kakarott pressing his low-class moron head against their door. He cringed.

“I don’t know. I don’t want to know. He does have sharpened senses, but still, we haven’t made a spectacle of ourselves.”

No, Piccolo considered, they hadn’t. And damnit, why not?!? Piccolo grumbled and started to pace. It wasn’t fair! How did they get landed with this? It infuriated him to no end. He didn’t appreciate being taken advantage of...well, not in that way.

Vegeta watched hir a r a moment, wishing he would cease storming about their room as it was making him dizzy. “Come back to bed.”

Piccolo stopped and sighed in frustration; he wasn’t exactly in an amorous mood. What he needed was to get out and blow off some steam. In actuality, he wanted to blast the shit out of something, and if he stayed, he’d probably take his frustra out out verbally on his fiery tempered mate. And the last thing he needed right now was to get into a row with his Saiyan lover. “I’m not in the mood.”

Vegeta frowned, “Yeah, but I am.”

Gods, the Namekian really wanted to kill something. “Well, go jerk off or something. I’m going to the mountains. I’ll be back sometime tonight. Don’t wait up.”

And with that he flew out the balcony of their room.

“Asshole!” the prince swore. He fought the urge to blow up the entire Lookout. Damn Kakarott for his contemptibly pathetic self, and damn Piccolo for leaving him with a hard-on. He’d get revenge later; on that, he swore. In the meantime, he had some extra energy to work off, and so he got up, dressed, and made his way towards his training room.