Adult-FanFiction.org : Gundam, Beyblade, DBZ, FMA

Native Son	By : chibivegeta Category: Dragon Ball Z > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 4341 -:- 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
- 3
- 4
- 5
Pairing:
Vegeta/Goku what else would you expect from me?
Warnings: some blood
and gore, slight lime, plot devices�and holes�

Archive:
Submit URL

Thoughts
in italics, bordered by tilde (~)

Those of you
who�d like to get on with the fic, go ahead and skip past the bolding.

First off, let
me start by saying that I appreciate the feedback response after my little rant
in the previous chapter.� Let me also
clarify by saying I am NOT whoring myself out for reviews, the point was that I
will not post to a site that simply takes what I have to give and returns
nothing.� This applies not only to my
own work, but to writers everywhere.�
We�re not all lucky enough to be published, and for some of us the only
�payment� we get for our efforts is what little feedback the readers deign to
bestow upon us.� I DO thank you for
taking the whole two minutes out of your lives that it takes to leave a few
words.

A couple of
asides:

Yes Trista, I
am serious.� And no, the reason I write
is, as I explicitly stated, because I have a drive to do so, not because I need
your approval.� Quite frankly, I don�t
care how unsociable and impolite you think I am.� I don�t care that you don�t like me, I really don�t, and I�ll be
damned if I�ll gush over scant crumbs of praise.� It�s too bad you took the rant personally, perhaps you have a
little guilt complex going.�

Chaz.� What can I say, there are so very many
responses I could give to your review.�
Fortunately I�ve learned to bite my tongue quite a bit.� But yes, it is thievery.� Do you go to that art gallery for free?� If you don�t buy tickets, don�t you pay
taxes so that gallery might be there?�
Do you just take the little prints and notecards with those images or do
you have to pay for them?� I�m not
looking for literary critics, I don�t consider fanfic to be �literature� for
one, and in order to critique, one must know the craft.� I�m so very sorry that you had to expend
yourself to say a few words by way of recompense for my hard work.� And you know, for someone who is a self-admitted
�voyeur� of smut, it�s sad that you can�t even bring yourself to type the words
bitch or shit.� Don�t like it?� Don�t read.�
Really.� I�d rather not have you
among my readership.�

To those of you
who review consistently; THANK YOU!�
Even if I were paid for such things, nothing can replace an honest
opinion.

So let�s get to
it, shall we?

Native Son

Chapter 4

Sickly bolts of purple lightning forked across the ruddy
sky.� No cloud or roll of thunder had
forewarned, no life-giving wash of rain drummed in accompaniment.� The jagged bursts of energy were rendered
from the planet itself as it careened along its uncertain orbit.�

Beyond the turbulent surface of the planet, twin orbs of
fire danced around one another, long licks of flame coiling between the binary
stars like a lover�s embrace.� The
craggy mass of the fourth planet�s moon swung around in betrayal to join the
attempted murder of its captor.� Vegeta-sei
shook as final darkness threatened all things living upon its surface.

It was just this threat that had the dominant species of
the planet on the verge of insanity.�
Half-transformed, and howling at the convergence of their moon and sun,
thousands of saiya-jins ran wild.�
Crazed with the sense of imminent doom, their hormones surging as the
moon pulled and pushed at the very pulse pounding in their temples, they ran as
instinct demanded.

Individuals slinked through alley and wood alike; some
packs formed, usually males hunting down the few and generally lone females. A
trail of rapine and pillage followed in their wake as they were left to bay at
the moon and snarl at one another in challenge.� But not all were affected.

Juveniles not yet of age to feel the effects of the moon,
those with special training (usually priests and senior warriors) and the
super-elite, the most powerful of Vegeta-sei: only these were able to keep
their wits about them when the Ru`a-nin raged.

Within the palace, the little prince yelped in surprise as
he was shaken from his bed by a violent upheaval, the very environment around
the palace was being changed by the flow of force and energy.� Staggering to his feet, he clung to the bed
support to stay upright.� Thick stone tiles
that made up the floor buckled and canted, sending a chill of terror up the young
ouji�s spine.� He could feel his tail
puffing out to warn him of impending danger.�

But the danger wasn�t real.� He reminded himself for the hundredth time
of what his father had told him.� As the
lower classes tore one another apart in both conflict and consummation, he need
only stay inside, behind the safe walls of stone.� Only the weak and foolish were susceptible, and it would all be
over in a day or two.� He repeated his
childhood mantra inside his head.

~� I am Vegeta, I am
strong, I am in control��
~

But still a stab of fear lanced through his belly and he
found himself in training suit and armor. Fastening the red cape of his office
around his shoulders, he was ready to dash to his parent for protection before
wondering what his father might think of his cub seeking comfort.�

With a blinding crack and shards of light, the stone
sill of his window crumbled under the force of the planet�s struggle.� The little prince startled and, with the
sudden loss of bravado, darted down the darkened hallways of the palace.� He burst through the doors of the court and
froze as the scene before him was eerily lit with distant arcs of power.

Instead of the roar that had filled his ears, Vegeta found
himself still in more than form, his head ringing as silence descended.�

Between himself and his father, there lay a sea of
bodies.� Blood trailed from eyes and
mouths locked open in expressions of horror.�
Saiya-jins of every class and form lay strewn all the way to the
throne.� Vegeta�s throat closed as his
horrified eyes fastened onto the dangling figure of Bejita no Ou; father,
protector, teacher, and only solace to the young prince.� The King�s eyes bulged as his throat was
crushed within the black-taloned fist of a monster that loomed over him and
laughed.

With a snarl, the five-year-old prince launched himself
fist first, tears gathering in his eyes as he met his Otousan�s blank stare.

�PAPAAAA!!�

~~~

Vegeta jerked forward, eyes opened wide, lashes damp as he
gasped himself awake.� It took him a
moment to realize he was staring down at his own shaking fists.� He clutched the blankets close and grit his
teeth as the phantoms slowly retreated.�
Finally releasing a breath, he panted quietly, and wiped the sheen of
sweat from his face.�

~� Dream�just a dream�� ~

He pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes, the shower
of sparks across his vision welcome as they wiped out the image still fading in
his mind�s eye.�

~� Just a fucking
dream!� Get your shit
together!� ~

He let out another ragged breath, pushing the blankets
back, and slipped out the door of the one-room dwelling.� He made his way to where the sun fanned gold
across the stone ledge, eyes narrowing against the glare.

It hadn�t happened that way.�

He could remember running into the throne room and
launching himself into his father�s lap, his tail tangled in the half-fastened
cape.� The Ou hadn�t said a word, merely
stroking strong fingers into his son�s hair and crooning soothingly, gazing out
over the capitol city as it shook and crumbled.

But Frieza had come soon after.

The monster that had slaughtered his family, his home, his
people and his pride was long gone now.�
Destroyed first by the prince�s rival, then by his own future son.� Vegeta hated thinking about Frieza, thinking
about his limitations and weakness in the face of the ice-jin�s power.� He especially hated his utter failure, as
prince of his people, to avenge them.

He perched on a chunk of the rockfall next to where the
spring bubbled from the cracked stone and scrubbed his hands over his
face.� To hell with Frieza.� He was long gone and it was time he was
forgotten.� The prince had a completely
different sort of challenge facing him now.�

Where the hell was Kakarrot anyway?� Vegeta�s nose twitched with the strange
lingering scent that seemed to hover around his wounded �guest�.� He recalled drifting to sleep with that
scent in his nose and the solid warmth of the other saiya-jin at his back.� But, now that he thought about it, Kakarrot
had been absent when he�d awakened from the dream.

He watched as the rising sun slowly illuminated the tumble
of jungle and stone below the cliff, thinking back through the events of the
previous day.� The big baka had to be
around somewhere.� He stood and
stretched, sharp eyes assessing the terrain beneath the escarpment where they�d
made camp.

****

Golden light slowly traversed wide white tiles, creeping
over the edge of the Lookout, and cast deeper shadow to the sharp black eyes
that gazed down over the planet below.�
Piccolo stood unmoving at the verge, a drop of thousands of feet before
him, and considered what, if anything, he should do about the situation with
Goku.

His own words came back to haunt him as he considered his
options.�

�I don�t trust
you, but I know Goku would...�

The growl in his chest was nearly inaudible as frustration
mounted.� Goku was his friend and more,
since they both fought so hard to protect their little green and blue corner of
the universe.� He was like a partner,
someone he needed, even though he hated to admit that, even to
himself.� Piccolo trusted Goku, trusted
his fighting instincts, trusted his power, trusted his heart.

Vegeta was another matter entirely.

The saiya-jin prince had sworn to kill Goku, saw him as a
threat to his class and power, and an impediment to galaxy-wide rule.� The namekian himself was borne of one with
such ambition, but he had changed over time and through experience.� The heavy green brows furrowed deeper; he
wasn�t quite so sure about Vegeta.

Not to mention that he pissed Piccolo off with nearly every
word that fell from his arrogant lips.

The brooding warrior was shaken from his reverie by a
gentle tug on his cape and, looking down, he regarded the worried and hopeful
face of earth�s young guardian.� He
bowed in respect to the young namekian�s office and the authority it
represented.

�Good morning, Dende.��

Dende could barely contain himself as he peered expectantly
up at his mentor and friend.

�How is he this morning, Piccolo?� Is Goku better?�

Scowling slightly, Piccolo sighed internally, confronted
with making the decision he�d just been pondering.� With uncharacteristic gentleness he rested a hand on the young
namekian�s shoulder.

�Dende, I want you to listen to me.�

Wide, trusting eyes met his own, deep with the wisdom of
their race, and he wondered for a moment if earth�s keeper was at all obligated
to take his advice.� He took a breath
and continued.

�This thing with Goku� I know you blame yourself for not
being able to fix whatever�s wrong with him, but it doesn�t have anything to do
with your healing powers.�

He hesitated, not really sure what they should be doing to
help.� Reason and logic finally won out
over instinct, and he made his decision.�

�Dende, we need to stay out of this as much as possible. I
don�t think Goku would feel very comfortable with being watched, and I know
Vegeta would blow a gasket if he knew.�
But we will be able to keep track of things just by sensing for
their ki.�

The younger namekian frowned in momentary puzzlement,
clasping his hands together.�

�Are you sure he�ll be ok?�

Piccolo frowned then unexpectedly smiled, relief suddenly
flooding his chest; he felt sure he�d made the right decision.

�Yeah, kid.� For
some reason I think so, I think it�s all going to be fine.�

The young guardian clasped his staff tightly and smiled as
he moved to stand at the edge of the Lookout with his sensei, both of them
watching down over the earth.

�Thanks, Piccolo��

****

Son Goten bounded down the stairs and hopped on one foot as
he tried to slip on the soft-soled shoes he preferred for playing.� The smell of pancakes and sausages was like
perfume to his saiya-jin nose, and he bounced into the kitchen eagerly.�

As he slid into his seat and picked up his knife and fork a
plate stacked high with fluffy golden pancakes was set before him, the layered
tower was surrounded by a phalanx of link sausages that had been browned to
perfection.� He grinned widely and
already had his mouth stuffed before he noticed that the hand holding the plate
wasn�t his mother�s.� He blinked up in
confusion at his older brother.

�Hey, Gohan!� How
come you�re making breakfast?� Where�s
mom?�

The rumpled spikes of hair on the younger demi-saiya-jin�s
head shifted as he glanced around, as if expecting her to materialize.� She�d almost always been in the kitchen
anytime Goten came looking for her, he could hardly imagine where else she
would be.

Gohan slid into his own chair, settling a plate stacked
almost twice as high as his brother�s in front of himself.�

�Dig in, squirt, I�ll explain while we eat.�

Gohan didn�t want his little brother to worry, and while he
was a little worried himself, he knew if Goten�s mouth were kept full he�d get
fewer questions and less doubt.� He
waited for his brother to settle into eating before taking up a sheet of paper
that lay folded to one side of the table.�
He took a long swallow from his coffee cup before he began.

�When I got up this morning, mom was already gone.� She left this note for us.� Do you want to read it or do you want me to
read it to you?�

Goten blinked across the table from him, taking up his milk
and draining half the glass before answering.

�Is she ok?�

Gohan nodded.

�Does it have big words in it?�

The elder laughed lightly, �One or two...�

�Yeah ok then,� Goten grinned, �You read it�� He dug back into his pancakes with gusto.

Gohan unfolded the page and looked over the tidy writing
that filled it.� He could almost see
their mother bent over the paper, pen in hand, as she wrote.� He took another sip of coffee then cleared
his throat before he began.�

My Dearest Babies,

You will have to make do for yourselves for the next few
days, as Momma is gone to Grandpa Ox�s.�
I got a call early this morning that he has come down with something and
needs to be taken care of, so of course I packed up as soon as I could and now
I�m leaving you this note to let you know.

Gohan, you are to watch out for your little brother and
don�t you dare slack in your studies to go play with that green Demon.� I�m counting on my little man to take care
of things while I�m gone.

Gohan winced at the �little man� comment, and kicked
lightly under the table at Goten as he giggled.

Goten, you are to obey your �niichan when he tells you to
do something, not pretend you don�t hear him like you try to do to me.� And stay out of the mud!� And Gohan don�t you dare let him go tearing
up his clothing, he�s worse than his father when it comes to clothes.�

The younger of the two brothers stuck out his tongue,
giggling again as the image of his mother writing the note, and huffing like
she always did, came to mind.

I shouldn�t be gone long, my babies, and I�m sure that my
poor Goku will be back soon.� There is
plenty of food in the refrigerator, but if you run out call Bulma and she can
help.

Love, Momma

With a sigh, Gohan re-folded the letter and set it aside,
eyeing his brother over the remains of their breakfast.

�So what do you think, squirt?� Can we handle it?�

Goten grinned, thrusting his little fists into the
air.� �YEAH!� Cool!� Can I call Trunks
and invite him over??� Pleeeeeze
Gohan???�

The older of the two reached out and ruffled his hand
through the younger�s hair, smiling indulgently at him.� �Ok, but you heard mom, no mud!�� He dreaded the thought of cleaning up after
both of them, and couldn�t imagine what the house would look like
afterwards.� He had a sudden desire to
chicken out and go to Piccolo for help, but looking at Goten�s shining eyes he
understood how everyone was helpless to refuse him.� By this time, Goten was already at the phone, babbling excitedly
to his best friend.

�Hey Trunks!!� You
think your mom will let you come over for a couple days?�� He grinned eagerly into the phone, despite
the fact that his friend couldn�t see him.�
�Yeah, mom�s gone for a while!�
It�s like vacation!�

Gohan chuckled with understanding.� But even though he knew his mother wasn�t
going to appear and begin yelling at him, he began clearing their plates
anyway. Even if she wasn�t here, he didn�t want to think about what she�d do if
she knew he�d left a sink full of dirty dishes.� Probably have a stroke, he thought, and couldn�t stop the grin as
he pictured his mother in another melodramatic moment.

He jumped as Goten yowled and leaped toward the
stairs.� �Trunks is coming! �I gotta get ready!�� And disappeared toward his room to prepare, and plot, no doubt.

Shaking his head at his brother�s enthusiasm, Gohan frowned
slightly as he thought about his mother�s note.� She hadn�t sounded all that concerned about either his Grandpa or
Goku, but seemed more worried about the condition of the house and his
brother�s clothes.� He hadn�t heard the
phone at all this morning either, though kami knew he slept almost as hard as
his father.�

He shrugged and squirted soap into the hot water filling
the sink, listening to the sharp thuds overhead as Goten ransacked his own
belongings.� As long as his father was
safe and his little brother was happy, he was sure everything would be ok.� He was unaware of the frown that marred his
brow as he pushed a sense of wrongness to the back of his mind, and began
scrubbing plates and glasses.

****

The prince had returned to the capsule house long enough to
drag a training suit on, making note that none of the food supplies had been
touched, nor did it seem Kakarrot had changed his clothing.� Vegeta grumbled about having to babysit a
full-grown baka, and stepped back outside, drawing gloves on as he scanned the
horizon.

Kakarrot had to be nearby; Vegeta could feel his ki, still
with that same odd nuance it had the day before, but he couldn�t pinpoint the
other�s location.� Stepping to the
cliff�s edge, he gazed down into the thick forest below.� Kakarrot was down there, active and
moving.� The prince�s ki flared slightly
as he stepped into open space and dropped swiftly before leveling out over the
trees.

He paused where the treeline broke into a rocky meadow,
just in time to see the lumbering form of a bear crash through the undergrowth
and into the open.� There was a glossy
red-black matting to the fur just behind its right ear, and it bellowed in both
pain and confusion as it whirled and reared on hind legs to challenge its
pursuer.

Vegeta�s breath caught as Kakarrot burst from the trees and
hurled himself into the bear�s clawed embrace.�
The saiya-jin�s tail was bristled and lashed as he sank his fist into
the flesh beneath the bear�s foreleg.�
With a final grunt it toppled to the ground, having left only a few
scratches and smears of red on his opponent.

Boots touched down silently in the thick grass, and the
prince was already nearing his charge, when Kakarrot whirled and snarled in
protection of his kill.� Vegeta barely
paused, surprised more at his own failure to consider the other�s reaction than
the reaction itself.� But that thought
was lost as he looked into the wild ebony eyes before him.

Kami, he�s gorgeous�

Taking in the aspect of the other, Vegeta
nearly shivered in the light breeze stirring the grasses around them and
hushing back the silence that had dropped over the meadow.� Thick spikes of hair, more jagged than was
their wont, shaded deep black eyes that seemed to glow with a preternatural joy
of life.� The heavily muscled chest
gleamed with sweat as Kakarrot panted for breath, his narrow waist bracketed by
curled fists, the whole portrait of him framed by that still-wildly lashing
tail.

The perfect saiya-jin�

Vegeta shook himself from his reverie, realizing that those
dark spikes of hair were now bent as the other recognized him and knelt in the
lush grass of the field.� Already his
gloved fingers had slid into the soft silk of them and he felt more than heard
a low thrum from the younger saiya-jin�s chest.

Just like that, once Kakarrot had recognized his prince,
all aggression was gone.� He gazed up at
Vegeta and stood, taking a few steps toward the downed bear and gazing back
toward the older saiya-jin.� The grumble
of his stomach was audible even several feet away.

Vegeta grinned wolfishly, deciding Kakarrot�s lessons in
saiya-jin comportment and culture may as well begin right away.� Dropping into a defensive stance, he flicked
his fingers in challenge.� This is what
he�d been wanting, after all; the chance to fight his rival as pure saiya-jins,
knowing neither was holding back.� He
grinned across at the other.

�Come on, Kakarrot.�
Challenge me for a share of your breakfast!�

He smirked as the younger saiya-jin�s gaze lit, one foot
sliding back in the grass as he coiled himself to pounce.� Without warning or cue, the two warriors
sprang together, fists clashing.� Vegeta
didn�t try to stop the surge of unadulterated delight he felt as they collided,
he never even thought to.�

This was what he loved; this was what his blood called for,
a constant craving that sang through his veins. And across from him, teeth
bared in a violent grin, was his long-time rival, looking as feral and
downright exciting as Vegeta had ever seen him.� His own teeth flashed in response to the
challenge in the other�s eyes and in the tumult of emotion he could
feel�something.��

Something within himself that was different from their
other battles, just a nuance, but different all the same.� But before he could examine that too
closely, the jar of fists against his ribs brought his attention back to the
matter at hand, or fist as the case might be, and he flung himself back into
the fray enthusiastically.

They might have fought the entire day but for two things;
the insistent howl of Goku�s stomach and the growing number of vultures and
other, earthbound, creatures that all wanted a piece of the prize. �There was a brief flash of ki and scattering
of feathers and Vegeta smirked at his opponent with something like respect as
the younger saiya-jin defended his kill.

Vegeta caught a whiff of that scent again as the breeze
changed, and his eyes narrowed on the sweating and bloodied Kakarrot.� There was a restless shift of his emotions
and he was suddenly as hungry as he could ever recall being.

�Stop playing with the birdies, Kakarrot and lets get
breakfast on the fire.�

The younger saiya-jin�s tail flicked and coiled, the
prince�s eyes locked onto the snake of gleaming fur.� Vegeta�s nose twitched as the scent grew stronger.� He turned and began flying toward the river
in search of an appropriate space to eat and bathe, muttering under his breath.

�And you are definitely getting a bath��

****

He tore into the still half-raw meat with relish, his
stomach all the more insistent after spending a couple of hours attempting to
scrub the stench off his charge.� He�d
nearly drowned the younger saiya-jin in the river while they waited as long as
possible for the bear to roast.� His
eyes flicked toward the dripping spikes of hair that obscured Kakarrot�s
features as he, too settled into the business of eating.

Vegeta had found a wide bend that rounded the curve of a
grassy slope and spread out to just about chest level, the bottom sandy from
the many shifts and changes in the course of the water.� The two of them had worked in silent tandem,
Kakarrot gutting and skinning the animal and disposing of the waste with a
flash of energy while the prince had blasted a firepit into the ground and set
logs to burning coals with a little assistance from his ki.�

They had spitted the beast and gotten it settled when
Vegeta turned to the younger and simply pointed at the river.� After much dunking and scrubbing with
fistfuls of sand, he finally declared the saiya-jin as clean as he could get
without boiling water and industrial soap.�
Leading them back to the fire, he peeled out of his dripping training
suit and tossed it over a sun-warmed rock to dry.�

As he settled himself down in the grass and tore off a
chunk of meat to sate his sharpened hunger, he missed the sudden ruffling of
Kakarrot�s tail and the snapping motion at its tip.� But he couldn�t mistake the fact that Kakarrot was leaning
against his knee once again, equally naked, though seemingly focused on
stuffing food into his mouth as rapidly as possible.

Vegeta paused, licking bloodied juices from his fingers and
frowning thoughtfully.� There was that
damned smell again; earthy and rich and somehow entirely annoying.� Something about it made his stomach clench
and a sense of restlessness prickled over his skin.�

Shaking it off, he finished his meal and stood up to
stretch, wincing slightly at the pull in his muscles from what had felt like an
endless toil of bathing the other saiya-jin.�
And he could still smell him!�
With a snort to clear his sinuses he turned and levitated to a flat,
rounded boulder that lay patiently near the edge of the river.�

It was slightly canted, but that was all the better as far
as Vegeta was concerned; it would put him at the perfect angle to nap in the
sun while he digested the solid meal.�
Draping himself over the almost soft grit of the stone, he heard a
splash and knew that Kakarrot had gone for another swim.�

After a few blissful moments of silence and the radiance of
the sun on his back, his drowsy thoughts slowly registered the drip-drip of
water.� Struggling to open his eyelids
halfway, Vegeta could see one droplet after another splash onto the stone just
a few inches from his nose.

�Kakarrot�� The
prince�s voice took on a tone of annoyed laziness.� �You are getting me wet again and blocking the sun.�

After a moment of silence, he looked up further and was met
with the flash of white teeth and the gleam of ebony eyes under dripping
blue-black spikes of saiya-jin hair.� It
occurred to him that the younger saiya-jin communicated better without using
clumsy ningen words.� But before he
could pursue that line of thought his nap beckoned and he found his lashes
drifting shut again.

�I don�t want to play, baka.��

He tried to summon more annoyance in his tone but a
sharp-toothed yawn interrupted his concentration, and Vegeta sounded more
distracted than angry, even to himself.�
He tucked his nose into the crook of his elbow and grumbled.

�I�m sleepy and full, and my shoulders hurt from trying to
get you clean, but you still stink.��

The prince was almost asleep again as cool, wet fingers
began to stroke firmly over his shoulders.�
He startled briefly but was rendered boneless as strong hands kneaded
tense muscle.� All protest seeped out of
him as his skin warmed under the touch.�
There was a low tingle in his belly and a lazy thread of arousal began
its way up his spine.

Feeling completely comfortable in the younger saiya-jin�s
presence for once, Vegeta slipped into sleep even as his nose twitched with the
recurring scent.� Kakarrot, his only
companion and the last of their kind, stretched out along a thick branch that
arched across the water�s surface, dark eyes sharp and protective as he guarded
over his prince�s sleep.

Final note; I have completed five chapters of Native Son thus
far, and am working on the sixth.�
Updates will be slower as I have had trouble with that chapter, and am
just coming back into writing from a hiatus due to health matters.� Try not to hold it against me.
- 3
- 4
- 5
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Native Son

Love, Momma

Kami, he�s gorgeous�

The perfect saiya-jin�