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. |
Pairing:
Vegeta/Goku what else would you expect from me?
Disclaimer: yeah
sure, I own everything...
Warnings: some
angst, leeeeeeemon (or so I’m told), plot devices…and holes…
Archive:
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Thoughts
in italics bordered by tilde (~)
Notes: Feel free to skip past the bolding to get on
with the fic.
Again, a big thank you to those of you who gave words
of encouragement. Only one personal
response this time.
Carmel:
no, I do not read books in the library for free; my taxes pay for that library
to be there for everyone, much the same way the maintainers of this site
provide reading material for you. But
you don’t have to pay a damned thing but a little attention and perhaps a few
words. You used the word
criminal, I did not, kindly keep your quotations to yourself and don’t try to
put words in my mouth.
Chapter 5
Vegeta slowly became aware of an uncomfortable tightening
of the skin over his back and shoulders and the sensation of fire slowly
sinking into him. Asleep, with his ki
at a minimum, he was as vulnerable as anyone else to the effect of ultra violet
radiation. Wincing, he groggily
realized he’d spent the hottest three hours of the day baking himself as he
slept.
As he got stiffly to his feet, he cursed the idiot ningen
and their inability to maintain their planet’s ecosystem, and then cursed
Kakarrot for relaxing him like that in the first place.
Speaking of, where was Kakarrot?
A soft snore directed his gaze slightly upward and along
the bank of the wide stream. Still
perched on the long branch, Goku
too had fallen asleep. Though for him,
the canopy of leaves above shaded his sleep, and a gentle breeze had whisked
away the first hint of sweat as the day grew warmer.
The prince’s teeth grit together as he attempted to fold
his arms into his best disdainful pose, which only served to tighten the
slightly seared skin across his back.
He also suddenly realized that it would be impossible to remain
dignified while standing stark naked, mid-stream in the wilderness. Lips quirking to one side in an
almost-smile, Vegeta levitated silently to float just next to the branch the
other saiya-jin lounged upon.
Tempted at first to simply cuff the other saiya-jin awake,
he paused a moment, taking the opportunity to closely inspect the other. He was familiar enough, through the course
of both sparring and battles, with Kakarrot’s muscular arms and broad
shoulders. Even the brawny chest and
narrow waist were nothing new. But he’d
never been so close to the younger saiya-jin without coming to blows, he’d
never seen him so off-guard and vulnerable.
The line of his back curved down, arching out again as his
tail joined smoothly with his spine, the length of which was curled loosely
around one thickly muscled thigh.
Vegeta’s eyes locked onto the furry coil enviously; would he always
be less a saiya-jin than Kakarrot? He
scowled: envy was unbecoming, and he’d come to terms long ago with the fact
that Kakarrot had never meant to shame him. But it still burned.
Long dark lashes fanned against the distinctive high
cheekbones of their race, one of which was pillowed on one muscular arm. There was another slightly nasal snore, and
the prince’s gaze was drawn to the slack mouth.
Full lips barely hid the sharp canines and tearing teeth
that were also a hallmark of their species; the mark of a predator. It was something he noticed the ningens
tended to pretend wasn’t there, but Vegeta had always been able to see their
nervousness whenever he or Kakarrot laughed or smiled too widely. He grinned to himself as he recalled seeing
people’s gazes skipping away from the flash of saiya-jin teeth. And they wondered why he treated them like
annoying pets.
His gaze had become so fixed as his thoughts wandered that
he hadn’t realized how closely he’d been examining his
rival-turned-responsibility. Vegeta had
unconsciously levitated closer, and now jerked back as he realized their noses
nearly touched. He was again assaulted
with that annoyingly wonderful odor, the faint whiff of which was now enough to
send a surge of agitated restlessness through him. Without thinking, he slammed both palms into the sleeping
saiya-jin’s side, effectively launching him off the branch and into the swirl
of cool water below.
With a smirk at the surprised yelp and gurgle, he followed,
dunking the other saiya-jin again as he surfaced. His inexplicable lighthearted mood and the splash of cool water
even seemed to make his sun burnt skin more tolerable. The prince’s own yelp sounded as long
fingers curled around his ankle and yanked him under. What proceeded from there was an all-out war of water.
A typhoon erupted from the riverbed, both saiya-jins
splashing and only half-playfully trying to drown one another. Foam swamped the banks of the river; frogs
and fish left surprised as they fled.
Birds took to the air to avoid the fountain as the two burst into the
air, exchanging punches.
Fine spray sparkled in the sun, barely outshining the
matching grins on both their faces.
Rising higher into the air, thick spikes of hair wavered as energy
rose. Fist met fist, and kicks were
blocked and dodged. They tumbled
through air ringing with the clash of power, sweat soon shimmered over skin
that covered muscles bunching and releasing like a well-oiled machine.
Vegeta’s teeth were bared in a vicious smile of delight;
this was what he’d been born to, his saiya-jin legacy of strength and love of
the fight. Any fight. Though as always, fighting with Kakarrot
was…different. It was as though the
weight of class and rank was shrugged off, leaving only the two of them, pure
saiya-jin versus saiya-jin. It was
exhilarating and provoking, making him push harder, reach further within
himself.
He was distracted from his distraction when, as he kicked
out at his opponent’s ribs, a warm, hard hand wrapped around his thigh,
trapping his leg against the other saiya-jin’s side. The prince froze, his gaze lifting from the palm that tingled
against his skin to deep black eyes.
Dammit that scent was back, even stronger if possible. Vegeta shook his head and backed away, heat
rushing to his cheeks as he realized how far his defenses had dropped.
Surprised by an aggressive growl in his throat, Vegeta
turned and dropped, barely slowing before slamming into the water and sending a
column of spray into the air. The cool
of the water was a shock to his skin, warmed as it was by sun and
exertion. Shuddering in reaction, he
swam deeper, cooling his thoughts as well.
It had been foolish to fight naked, but the moment had presented itself
and, like the saiya-jin he was, he’d jumped at the chance for another fight,
even if it wasn’t a serious battle.
Forced to the surface by the need to breathe, he exploded
out of the water, tossing his head back and slinging the wet from his
hair. Touching down on the bank, he
darted a glance toward his companion and made his way to his now-dry
clothing. He tried to ignore the
enigmatic stare on the other’s face as he tugged on his clothing and turned to
toss the remnants of Goku’s to him.
“Come on, Kakarrot, we need to check out the area…”
He trailed off aimlessly, his eyes following the flick and
curl of the other saiya-jin’s tail.
Shaking himself, he took to the air.
They did need to know how close or far they were from ningen
interference while he evaluated whether or not Kakarrot was regaining any of
his memory. He was torn between ridding
himself of babysitting duties and the potential to teach Kakarrot what it meant
to embrace his saiya-jin nature. It was
one of the things that had always pissed him off; that Kakarrot had so
completely rejected his heritage, and rejected the prince by association.
Glancing back under his arm he studied the other saiya-jin
where he followed closely in Vegeta’s slipstream. But what to do with him? How
was he supposed to figure out what was going on in Kakarrot’s head if the baka
didn’t talk? He grunted to himself,
distractedly making note of landmarks and how far they were from camp. He’d have to get to know the younger
saiya-jin all over again unless he remembered something.
After having flown another two hours in an outwardly spiral
pattern from where the little capsule house perched on the rocky cliff, Vegeta
decided that his warrior’s instincts hadn’t led him wrong as he’d chosen the
campsite in the fading light the previous evening. There wasn’t a single sign of humanity for twenty miles in any
direction and then only sparsely scattered farms. He and Kakarrot would be able to fight as furiously as they
wished. He grinned wolfishly.
A low guttural rumble interrupted his musings and he turned
to his companion who was sheepishly smiling and rubbing his stomach. The baka’s tail flopped around anxiously,
provoking a smirk from the prince.
“Okay, okay. We’ll
go home and get something to eat.”
Vegeta was rewarded with a glowing smile, and suddenly
found himself yanked by the wrist as Goku hauled him along at top speed. Tired as he was, the prince couldn’t summon
enough aggravation to berate the manhandling, and used his own ki only to keep
himself aloft. If Kakarrot had that
much energy then let him expend it.
The sun was already far westward as they arrived back at
their temporary home, and Vegeta crossed the threshold with a sigh of relief
and the grumble of his own neglected stomach.
He was nearly run down when he didn’t move fast enough out of Goku’s
way, and found their legs tangling as the other saiya-jin slammed into him.
With a clatter and crash of furniture, the prince was
suddenly pinned beneath the other amidst the wreckage of the small dining
table. The hot press of the muscular
body atop him left Vegeta momentarily stunned, and once he got his breath back
his senses were flooded with that scent again.
He squirmed and slammed his elbow into his companion’s ribs, feeling
another growl surface in his throat.
He felt strangely inebriated, both giddy and
aggressive. But the odd reaction within
him combined with earlier events sent a spark of anxiety through him and, as he
got to his feet, he whirled on the younger saiya-jin, slamming a hard fist into
his jaw.
“Clumsy oaf!!” He
snarled, curled fists shaking. “Get the
hell off me!”
Turning to one
side, Vegeta found himself embarrassed to have overreacted and felt his cheeks
flush yet again. He folded his arms and
regarded the chastised saiya-jin where he knelt on the floor. His entire posture screamed submissiveness
and the prince couldn’t help but be mollified, even when Goku leaned forward
and pressed his cheek against Vegeta’s hip.
He found his fingers sliding into the thick shocks of hair and stroking
slowly through.
“Forgive me, Kakarrot…”
Vegeta frowned as the apology left his lips, unbidden. He cleared his throat nervously. “Come on, let’s scrounge some food, ne?”
There was a flash of a smile and Vegeta allowed himself to
relax a little, but still frowned over his nervousness. This was Kakarrot, albeit a different one to
some extent, but the prince didn’t think a little jolt to his head was going to
change his personality that much. He
was not exactly harmless, but…
He shook his head and realized that Goku was staring at him
expectantly, his tail winding intricately through the air behind him. Vegeta waved him away.
“Go fix us a place to eat, baka…”
Shaking his head as the other saiya-jin bounded out the
door, Vegeta turned to the capsule case that had been scattered across the
floor with the demise of the table.
Sorting through them and replacing several, he chose the number 4
capsule and set it off. He couldn’t
help but laugh when a double-sized refrigerator, surely custom built,
materialized. At least the onna had
packed plenty of food. Vegeta wasn’t in
the mood to ration anything.
Opening a drawer in the small galley-style kitchen, the prince
opened a smaller capsule and proceeded to set up the cooking unit. He hadn’t wanted a ‘bot to cook for
him. He didn’t quite trust the
blue-haired idiot not to spy on him, so he’d had her design something less than
a robot, but as easily used as a microwave.
It, too, seemed a little larger than life, but the reason
for its size became apparent as Vegeta dumped several cuts of meat and a
variety of vegetables, along with a generous helping of rice, into the hopper
and closed the lid. Punching a few
buttons, he programmed the roasting of the meat and vegetables and left it to
its work. He stretched and winced at
the lingering sting of sunburn and decided that he needed a shower.
He glanced out the door to check on his charge, smirking at
the sight of the burly saiya-jin punching rocks into smaller pieces, and shook
his head. He’d never understand him, he
thought. There was a childlike wonder
that had somehow never been destroyed through all the hell Kakarrot had been
through. Grunting at himself and the
turn of his thoughts, he peeled out of his gritty clothing as he made his way
into the bathroom.
From what he’d been able to observe, Vegeta didn’t find the
other saiya-jin all that much changed.
But why, then, had Kakarot threatened the others? The more he thought about it the more
confused Vegeta got. And there was his
behavior toward the prince, himself.
He’d never given the impression of submission to Vegeta before, and he
found himself reacting to it in a way he didn’t understand.
His frown deepened as he kicked away the last of the
spandex and flipped the taps of the shower to hot. Everyone deferred to him in matters regarding Vegeta-sei. And of course they should, he mused, he was
the saiya-jin no ouji and knew more than any of them about his and Kakarrot’s
homeworld. But he admitted, if only to
himself, that he didn’t know very much at all, really.
Frieza had stolen him from his father when he was just a
cub, locking him into the darkest cell in the ship. He’d not been released nor even fed until they reached the
Ice-jin’s planetary base. But he’d
known. He had felt them die, so very
many.
He’d grieved hard those three days in the cold metal cube,
and within his heart a great howling beast had been born. When the door was finally opened he had
faced Frieza with a stony glare, determining that he’d never allow the beast to
see him cry. No one had. Not until Kakarrot.
Growling, Vegeta stepped under the steaming flow of water,
shaking himself out of that particular reverie. Frieza was long dead, and the prince was done shedding
tears. Kakarrot had never condemned him
for it; he’d never seen reproach in the other saiya-jin’s eyes. Well, not until that whole Babidi/Buu
thing.
“Dammit!!”
He punched a dent in the wall of the shower as he tore his
thoughts from yet more unpleasantries.
Closing his eyes, he concentrated on the heat radiating through his body
from the shower’s spray. It stung his
sunburn but helped loosen muscles he hadn’t realized were tense, and he stood
there for an endless moment, just enjoying the feel of water sluicing over his
body.
Soaping up lazily, the prince let his eyes droop closed,
and tilted his face up into the flow.
He felt a slow stab of envy as the image of Kakarrot’s tail came to
mind. The baka was always out-doing
him, and now he had the one thing that Vegeta had yearned for ever since he
realized his tail wasn’t going to grow back.
He’d kept this longing silent, never revealing how much he
regretted its loss. Wishing it back
would only have revealed to others just how much he missed it. He rubbed a soapy hand over the small of his
back and down to where he still had a furry bump at the base of his spine. He took a deep breath as the flesh tingled
and send a languid wave of pleasure through him.
His tail had always been hyper sensitive, despite what he’d
told the Namek during that first battle for Earth. Nappa’s tail had been nearly senseless after being broken in a
bar brawl in his youth. But if the
Namek believed it then he wouldn’t be going after Vegeta’s tail.
Groaning, he rubbed two fingers around the nub, wrapping
his free hand around his thickening erection and squeezed firmly. Damn he missed his tail. He pressed his forehead against the cool
wall of the shower, fist already moving in slow, steady strokes. Kakarrot’s tail was so thick, it must be
strong, and the fur was rich and glossy...
The hitching of his breath told him of the return of the
scent that had been haunting him, this time sending a shudder down his
spine. It only added to his enjoyment
somehow and, hips rocking, he thrust against his palm, gasping and
shivering. As his soap-slicked fist
squeezed and stroked his thoughts scattered.
Images flickered across his mind’s eye, deepening his arousal. As his
pleasure increased, he never thought to question the content.
“Kah-ka…uhh!”
He bit back a louder cry as he came, panting heavily and
groaning as his spinning head began to slow.
He’d barely gotten his breath back and washed away the evidence of
self-indulgence when the shower door was pulled open. Grinning in at him was Goku, already peeling out of his
clothing. Vegeta blinked stupidly
before blushing a deep red.
“KAKARROT, YOU IDIOT!!”
He rinsed quickly and shoved past the other saiya-jin,
grabbing up a towel and wrapping it around himself before stalking out of the
small steamy room. He paused in the
doorway, glaring back.
“This isn’t a barracks, you moron!” He growled.
“Just be quick about it, the food should be done soon.”
Goku turned and closed the shower door, and if Vegeta had
been paying more attention he’d have noticed the little smirk, worthy of the
prince himself, on the other saiya-jin’s face.
****
Vegeta grunted and tossed a well-stripped bone into the
fire. Once he was dressed and his
mortification had passed, he’d gone out to check on Kakarrot’s work. He had to admit that the younger saiya-jin
had done well.
A fire pit had been dug at the outer edge of the
outcrop. The fire within could not be
seen from the ground below, but served to warm and light the stone recess in
the cliff. The thick bole of a tree had
been hollowed out and tilted on its side, comfortably warm in the reflected
glow. They sat there now, finishing the
remains of their meal.
Stretching back, Vegeta rubbed his palms over his full
middle, belching and yawning. Yet
another advantage to being away from those idiot ningen; he didn’t have to
worry about abiding by their rules of etiquette. He looked down in surprise as a shaggy head propped itself in his
lap. Sighing, he reached down and
stroked his fingers through the thick velvet once again.
“You’re going to have to talk sometime, Kakarrot.” Vegeta’s lips tilted. “I’m not a very good conversationalist, I’m
afraid.”
There was a non-committal grunt in reply, and a lazy coil
of fur settled around his wrist. Vegeta
stared into the black void surrounding their campsite. What was he supposed to teach Kakarrot about
being saiya-jin? He hadn’t seen his
homeworld in forty years; he wondered how much he really remembered.
“You know, the skies on Vegeta-sei were golden.” A small smile graced the prince’s lips as he
recalled first learning to fly. “It
looked red from space, but that was because of the ketsueki trees,
their bark nearly glowed and the forests went on for miles…”
He rambled into the night, eyes focused on nothing as he
sifted through his memories. His
fingers stroked through the thick locks of Goku’s hair, nearly forgotten as
Vegeta lost himself in reverie. The
coals of the fire grew deeper and dimmer, and both sets of eyelids began to
flutter closed.
“So you see…it wasn’t…”
Vegeta’s chin dropped slowly to his chest. “…wasn’t Papa’s fault…”
The saiya-jin slept, curled together on the crude couch,
taking warmth in each other despite the night’s chill.
***
The next morning the prince was unceremoniously awoken by
the combined effect of a blinding shaft of sunlight and the squawking of
thousands of birds as they took to the air at the first light of day. He was unimpressed to say the least, not to
mention stiff from the lingering sunburn and sleeping outside with nothing but
a hunk of wood between himself and the stony ground.
Vegeta levered himself up with a curse and staggered to his
feet, scowling at the sun and the birds and the general cheerfulness of the
morning. Stepping to the edge of the
outcropping he unceremoniously pushed down the front of his training suit and
relieved himself on what he hoped were lots of birds’ nests.
He was still yawning and pissing when a second stream
splashed over the rocks alongside his own.
Blinking over at an equally sleepy Kakarrot, he suddenly found himself
thoroughly amused. The prince’s low laugh
echoed from the rock wall behind them and down over the forest canopy below. He stopped, astonished, when instead of the
childish giggle he always associated with Kakarrot, a throaty chuckle rang from
the other’s chest, sending a tingle of –something-
through him.
Scowling as the now-evocative scent came from nowhere, he
pulled his clothing back into place and turned to stalk toward the capsule
cabin. Suddenly furious for no reason,
Vegeta took to the air and snarled back over his shoulder.
“Come on, Kakarrot!
I want to get some decent training in before your stomach cuts us off
again.”
He was too busy stretching and powering up to note the
gleam in the younger saiya-jin’s deep eyes.
With a flick of his tail Kakarrot launched himself upward in a full-out
attack. Vegeta was ready for him. They clashed together, fists and feet, ki
blasts and power plays, for the next three hours.
By the time the sun was high in the morning sky the two
saiya-jin finally dropped toward their camp, stumbling and tripping their way
into the small cabin. Taking only the
minimum time required to start food cooking, they sprawled on the bed and floor
still drawing deep breaths, heedless of the smudges of blood and dirt.
After demolishing the none-too-small meal, Vegeta decided
that he couldn’t stand the combined stench on himself anymore and made his way
to the shower. He stood outside the stall,
glowering and huffing with impatience, and pointedly not looking at the shadow of the curl and flex of the other’s tail
through the clouded glass.
“Dammit, Kakarrot!
Save me some hot water!”
Vegeta yanked the glass door open and simply heaved Kakarrot
out of the shower and stepped into his place under the steaming spray. He smirked at the yelp and pout from the
other, threw the towel from around his waist at him, and slammed the door shut.
“Go make yourself useful, Kakarrot.” He was surprised at the mild tone of his own
voice. “I have some things to think
about.”
There wasn’t even a whimper of protest as Goku slipped from
the small steamy room, leaving Vegeta to his musings.
Standing under the hot needles of water for long minutes,
the prince’s brow furrowed as he again considered what to do about the
situation he found himself in. For the
life of him, he couldn’t figure a way around all this. He had to bring Kakarrot back to himself,
but he didn’t know how to accomplish that in the first place. Hell, he wasn’t even sure what the problem
was to begin with. Then again, he was enjoying seeing Kakarrot with the full
potential of a saiya-jin in his prime.
Soaping himself absently as he chased his thoughts in
circles, Vegeta was brought back to himself as he rubbed his lower back. The scarred nub of his tail was sore, and he
cursed himself for his last little self-indulgence, thinking he’d rubbed too
hard in his enthusiasm. Damn, it even
seemed swollen. The prince scowled,
twisting unsuccessfully to see his own back.
He finally rinsed and shut off the water, stepping in front of the
mirror and swiping at the moisture there before turning to look.
It did look
swollen. He frowned, annoyed that it
would now rub against his clothes and irritate him even more. He then realized that there were no ningen
here to placate, he was free to do whatever the hell he wanted without someone
screeching at him that he was being inappropriate. Wearing a smirk and a towel he stepped into the other room and
grabbed up a pair of training shorts.
With a ki-tipped finger he melted a hole in the back and slipped them
on.
Not bad, he wiggled his ass to see if the fabric would
chafe. He blinked at his reflection in
the mirror on the door and promptly burst into laughter. Through the back of the shorts poked a furry
bump. He looked ridiculous. The prince of all saiya-jins with
this...this stub of a tail.
Sudden shame suffused his cheeks, and he knew the ningens
would laugh at him. He supposed he was
grateful it was only Kakarrot here to see him.
He sighed at the way his mood was swinging wildly from anger to angst to
hysteria and back again, then wondered briefly if Kakarrot wasn’t simply
driving him crazy.
But the hell with it, Vegeta shrugged, at least he was
comfortable.
Stepping outside again, only half wondering where Kakarrot
had taken himself, he found a decent perch and made himself comfortable. Meditation wasn’t limited to Namekians, and
it was something Vegeta had learned long ago to use to his advantage. He concentrated on his ki and began the
mental exercises that kept him in control of it.
The next hours from early afternoon to dusk he spent in
thoughtful trance, the manipulation of his own energy freeing his mind to
wander and offer possible solutions to his quandary. It was unusual in the fact that Vegeta didn’t often solve his
problems this way. Most of what he knew
involved using his fists; he wasn’t stupid, but he was used to battle strategy
and thinking on his feet.
This sort of problem solving wasn’t usually left up to him. The prince finally came to the conclusion
that he would have to treat this as a slow-moving battle, with openings and
counters to be made over time. He’d
have to deal with Kakarrot one thing at a time.
Dropping his position with a sigh, he stretched and
scratched at his stomach before stepping to the edge of the cliff and cupping
hands around his mouth.
“GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE YOU BAKAAAAAAAH!”
Vegeta grinned to himself and went off to start another
meal. Eat, sleep, train, and
fight. It was good, it was saiya-jin.
***
Despite the day’s exertions and his weary state of mind,
Vegeta found it difficult to drop off to sleep. Kakarrot was now ensconced on the floor, the plush rug and a
thick blanket keeping him warm. The
prince stretched out on the bed, idly listening to the other saiya-jin’s deep
sleeping breaths. For some reason it
made him feel a stab of loneliness. He
scowled into the darkness before resolutely closing his eyes.
It was a long time coming, and when sleep finally did grace
him, his dreams were rimmed with red and fear.
He woke in a sweat, in the between-light before dawn,
staring into Kakarrot’s inquisitive face and with a cry still ringing in his
ears. With a rustling of bedclothes,
the younger saiya-jin scooped the prince close and curled up around him,
settling them both into the still-warm bed.
Words of protest dying on his lips as a low purr sounded in
his ear, Vegeta felt himself relax despite his best efforts. His fingers curled around a thick length of
fur as he slipped away into sleep, and he almost didn’t notice the return of
that wholly disturbing scent.
***
Ensuing days followed the same pattern as the prince and
his pauper fell into habit: sparring throughout the mornings, eating at noon
and night, resting and meditating through the afternoon. And for Vegeta, being soothed by Kakarrot
out of his nightmares of blood and thunder, of running and chasing, of howling
at the moons.
Overall, Vegeta found himself content; he had everything a
saiya-jin could want, and his communication dilemma might be sorting itself
out. He was amazed at how much Kakarrot
could say to him simply through his eyes.
The problem with his tailspot, however, had not gotten better.
It seemed more and more sensitive each time he examined
himself. A frown of trepidation crossed
his brow as he floated just above his meditation rock. What if there was something seriously wrong
with him? He’d end up with that idiot
woman poking and prodding and letting his blood. The prince grimaced at the thought, but had enough confidence at
least to know that either his son or the blue-haired irritant would be able to
fix whatever the problem was.
He growled and set the problem aside. It was already late, the sun was long gone from
the sky and he doubted Kakarrot would be willing or able to have dinner waiting
on him, and would in fact be waiting for the prince to attend him. With a snort of disdain, Vegeta dropped to
his feet and made his way back to the cabin to make some food.
The first bad weather they’d had since making their camp
here was swelling on the dark horizon, distant flickers of lightning winking
and flirting in promise of violence to come.
The prince grunted to himself and made a mental note to close the windows
once dinner was started.
They were midway through their meal as the flash and rumble
grew closer, and Vegeta noticed the line of sweat on the other saiya-jin’s
temple. The next crackle of thunder
made him startle and spill a bowl of noodles which he then heedlessly slurped
directly from the tabletop. The prince
watched, bemused, as the burly warrior displayed both terror and
nonchalance.
He was scared out of his wits and desperately trying to
hide it, Vegeta mused. Frowning, he
decided he didn’t need a hysterical Kakarrot on his hands. Finishing his meal he stood and shooed his
hands at the other.
“Bedtime, Kakarrot, and stop all that sniveling.”
Nervous eyes darted at his, and Goku gobbled down the last of
his food as the prince put dishes in the machine to clean them. Vegeta moved into the other room with a long
stretch and sigh. The rush of rain
suddenly sounded on the roof and lent a cozy air to the small space, but didn’t
comfort the younger of the two.
Kakarrot lay shivering, curled on his side with his tail
tucked around his ears, twitching with each rolling boom from outside. Vegeta watched him a moment and
grunted. He wanted to be disgusted, he
wanted to mock the other for his weakness.
But he actually understood that kind of irrational fear, he was still
terrified of the whir of any sort of hover craft. Frieza was dead, was no longer a threat, but still that
high-pitched sound always gave him that initial rush of fear.
Stretching out on the bed, still dressed only in shorts,
Vegeta laced his fingers together behind his head and tried to relax. It didn’t help that the storm was only now
whipping itself into full fury. Perched
as it was on the ledge, the cabin was exposed to the worst of the pounding rain
and wind, and each bolt of lightning seemed to get closer and louder in the
aftermath of its strike.
He could hear the younger saiya-jin’s whimpers as each roll
of thunder passed over them, and swore he could feel the floor shake from the
shivering. He tossed back and forth a
few times, silently cursing his insomnia and the dreams that always followed
when he did manage to sleep. Finally he
could take no more.
“Kakarrot...”
He waited for some response, finally peering over the edge
of the bed.
“Dammit, Kakarrot, get your ass up here and stop your
caterwauling.”
He tried for gruff, but apparently was too sympathetic;
Kakarrot came flying up from the floor and nearly tackled the prince, wrapping
arms around his waist and burying his face against Vegeta’s hip. With an indignant squawk, Vegeta pushed
ineffectively at the saiya-jin sized blanket that wrapped around him. He realized that he wasn’t getting through
to the other and resorted to different tactics.
“Kakarrot, if you keep squeezing me like this I’m going to
suffocate...”
He tugged on the thick spikes of hair that were tickling
his ribcage, and while the younger saiya-jin neither looked up nor gave up his
hold, his grip did loosen to a more comfortable pressure. The prince sighed and grumbled, but found
himself growing sleepy from the warmth of the body pressed up to his. His fingers stroked through the luxuriant
hair beneath them as he began to drift off.
The intensity of the storm was forgotten as Vegeta lingered
on the edge of sleep, that damnable scent combined with the sensation of
fur-wrapped muscle curling around his wrist to lure him right over into dreams.
Hectic dreams.
Dreams of fire and sweat, running, chasing. He could feel the length of his fangs as the moon swept its cool
gaze down over him, and he arched at the searing kiss of it on his skin. He felt himself changing, not into Oozaru,
but into something...else. Something as
feral and demanding as Oozaru, but sleeker, and seductive. Despite his form, he was caught in the
silvery vines of moonlight, and no matter how he struggled the lick of fire
swept over him again and again.
A throaty growl of encouragement forced itself from his
chest and his eyes fluttered open to the darkness of the cabin. His fingers were still tangled in thick
black spikes of hair, but heat pooled and rushed through him as he arched up
into the hot mouth that was currently wrapped around his aching cock. Another groan tore from his throat and a
surge of pleasure tore his thoughts away before he could even think them.
There was a stab of excruciating pleasure as the other
saiya-jin’s fingers scraped over his tailspot, and his hands fisted in velvety
locks as his hips bucked out of control.
Orgasm tore its way up his spine and slammed into the back of his skull,
streaking his vision with light and wrenched a howl from his chest. He could only gasp for breath as every nerve
ending in his body glowed with delight.
It might have been moments, it might have been hours, but Vegeta
suspected it was somewhere in between when he gazed down and caught the gleam
of adoration in the younger saiya-jin’s eyes.
Where the light came from to reflect in those dark pools, the prince had
no clue. A warm tongue continued to
bathe him clean.
Vegeta’s nose almost twitched at the scent of arousal
rolling from the other warrior. He was
only now becoming coherent enough to figure that his dreams had somehow led him
to encouraging Kakarrot into...well...the prince didn’t really want to look at
that too closely. Besides, he was
feeling pretty good right now.
Poor Kakarrot, though.
From the smell and feel of him he was in a pretty bad state. Vegeta idly considered sending him to the
bathroom to take care of it so he could sleep, but then decided that was kind
of cold, even for him. After all, if
he’d made demands on the younger saiya-jin then he sort of deserved some
consideration. His fingers stroked
through the thick hair at the nape of Goku’s neck.
“Shhh, Kakarrot...”
A soft whine and the shift of the other’s hips were his
only response. Turning slightly, Vegeta
slid his free hand down over the muscled torso, tracing the dips and curves of
sleek skin further down into downy fur.
An anticipatory gasp made the prince smile as he wrapped strong fingers
around the hard flesh, stroking firmly and slowly. He felt no need to rush Kakarrot through it, and he was rather
enjoying the sounds he was provoking.
Hot breath fanned across the prince’s chest as he continued
to caress the hardened length, and a whimper accompanied the first drops of
moisture as the younger saiya-jin’s need increased. The bristled length of his tail spasmed and curled around
Vegeta’s thigh, drawing a deep purr from the prince’s throat.
“Kakarrrrrrrrot...”
He barely registered his own voice as he worked at drawing
as much pleasure as possible through the other saiya-jin. Muscles bunched and flexed as Kakarrot
writhed, the tail around his leg tightened and twitched, and Vegeta knew he was
close. With a feral smile he increased
his efforts, rubbing his thumb roughly over the slick and swollen head, drawing
a violent buck of narrow hips and a strangled whimper.
“Veh-geeeeeeeetah!”
Goku shuddered and trembled beneath the prince’s touch, his
entire body locking up with sensation as he climaxed.
It wasn’t until the prince was licking his fingers clean
and listening to the deep breaths of the other as he slept that he realized
Kakarrot had said his name.
TBC
Eventually...
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