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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.

Chapter List
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The Stolen Moment

All was quiet on Dende's Lookout. But there was tension in the air.
Whispers in the many halls carried only faintly to a large and open guest bedroom where Vegeta was leaning on a wall by the window. He didn't have to strain to make out Bulma's bouncing voice. However, he only caught wisps of Dende's, which was much gentler.
“He's not talking to anyone!" came Bulma's shriek from down the hall. "Won't you just try, Dende? I'm sure you're the only one he would open up to!”
The crass woman never did quite grasp the concept of whispering.
Vegeta didn't catch Dende's response but it sounded like he was trying to calm and restrain her. Dende had a knack for getting in people's head's and making them feel calm, even when they didn't want to be. Vegeta knew that it wouldn't be long before the young Namekian was visiting his room with the intention of getting in his own head. Vegeta hadn't decided yet whether or not he would let him. Until then, the prince was content zoning them all out entirely. He turned to the open window.
He was so tired.
Quiet moments like this were the worst. He tried to focus on the wind gently brushing his face. The sun was setting and the sky was a flame of orange and blood-red. The colors looked violent to Vegeta and made him think of pain and a suffering that never seemed to end in a barren place where no one would ever find him.
He shut his eyes away from the vivid brightness of it but it was still in his mind.

“Kakarot!”
The beast looked down on him with those prying dark eyes.
“Say it.”
“Please...please fuck me.”

Vegeta crammed the heels of his palms into his eye sockets and grunted, trying to block out the images. But the sounds of rustling leaves and deep moaning and his own shaky voice still resounded in his head. He felt a wave of shame.
“Please fuck me”
With a yell, he threw his fists into the wall behind him and slid down to the floor, hiding his head in his arms. At that point, Dende appeared in the doorway.
Vegeta threw the intruder a killing look. Dende seemed to understand that the look wasn't meant for him and didn't falter as he entered the room.
The quiet Namekian walked softly over to the window and knelt down in front of Vegeta.
The prince watched him curiously, unsure of what he would do next.

To the Guardian, the Saiyan looked like a lost and wild boy. Dende had always seen the boy there, but until recently, it had only been in glimpses. Now there he was, small and alone and undone, needing so much but unsure of how to ask, unsure of who to trust. So instead of reaching out to anyone, he chased away everyone.
Dende could see that the little boy had been pushed too far and was on the brink of either asking or breaking.
Dende leaned in closer to the snarling face. Vegeta, uncertain, held a threat in his eyes but Dende did not hesitate nor did he appear to notice the discomfort his nearness seemed to cause the Saiyan.

At the same moment that Dende was seeing the boy in the prince, Vegeta finally saw the young Namekian, who they'd found alone and orphaned all those years ago, as a man. He saw some of Piccolo in eyes that held so much ageless wisdom. He wondered how Dende had come to know people so well, how he knew he could safely get this close to them. Vegeta was slightly jealous. He had never been able to connect easily with others and until that moment, he'd always told himself it was by choice.
Dende reached his hand out and placed it on Vegeta's head. Vegeta, so startled by the act, almost jerked away from the hand. But as he felt it on his head, gentle and warm and noninvasive, his body began to relax. He looked into Dende's calm and knowing face and opened his mouth to speak. he wanted to say something dismissing and harsh, something that would sting the boy and give him a fraction of the pain Vegeta felt. But the words fell away, along with all the tension in his body once the green skin grazed his own. So Vegeta stopped trying to fight and eased beneath the touch, unused to the tenderness it offered. His head felt heavy and he let it fall and rest on his arms, propped on his knees.
He felt like the moment, here with Dende in the quiet still room, was stolen. Vegeta had no business feeling pleasure and ease when so much was wrong in the world-- when so much was wrong in himself. But he found that all he could do was rest there, nuzzling the hand as it moved to stroke his hair. Small whimpers were escaping his mouth before he realized it and a warmth trailed down his cheeks.
He was crying and he couldn't stop himself.
He tapped his toes absently, waiting for it to pass.
Dende said nothing and expected nothing. He gave what comfort he could and Vegeta accepted it.

Some time later, the Namekian was sitting silently under the window a comfortable distance from Vegeta. His arms were propped on his knees, mimicking the prince's pose but somehow not emanating the same guardedness.
“Why is he doing this?” Vegeta finally said. He'd composed himself and felt more opened now to speaking, as though the tears had washed away whatever was clogging his emotions.
“I know as much as you do,” said Dende.
“He left me alive,” said Vegeta, thinking aloud. “After we fought. Why would he do that? And then today, he...” he seemed to doubt his own recollection. “He tried to...”
“I think there is a Saiyan pull in him,” Dende cut it, and Vegeta was grateful to not have to finish his thought. “As well as a Namekian pull and a human one. All of these things, I think, have built up in him to such a degree that his personality can no longer go unaffected. Compassion and love, like hate and sadism, are not beyond him.
“I will say this.” Dende continued after a pause, and Vegeta looked over to him. “It seems like the most powerful being Buu absorbs will have the greatest influence on him-- not only in power but in behavior.”
“You think that Kakarot...” Vegeta began tonelessly and sharp images of The Grove flashed in his mind.
“I think that Goku's presence has certainly had an effect on Buu's personality,” Dende quickly interjected. “I do believe that his strong influence in Buu's mind contributed to what happened-- however indirectly. Buu's natural lust for destruction and chaos mixed with your and Goku's deep kinship had an effect that none of us could have predicted. While Goku's absorption may have lent to the horrible thing that happened, I believe that it is also the reason you are alive. I don't think you should look any further into it than that.”
Vegeta turned away. He didn't feel repulsed anymore by the mention of what happened. Now he just felt wearied by it and he longed to leave it all behind him.
“Can you see him now?”
Dende closed his eyes and sat quietly for a long while and Vegeta wondered if he was going to share his vision at all.
“He's standing on a cliff.”
While Vegeta didn't have the Guardian's gift, the image of Buu standing still and quiet on the cliff manifested itself in his mind, easily and vividly.
“He's waiting.”
“For what?”
Dende watched for a few moments longer.
“Now it looks like he's in pain. He's screaming.”
Vegeta wasn't sure how to take that bit of information and was about to ask the Namekian to clarify on what he'd seen but soon he didn't need to.
Dende and Vegeta opened their eyes at the same time and looked at each other. Although the both of them knew from Dende's vision that Buu was standing far below them on a distant canyon, the sound of his agonized screams were now echoing all around them.
The two stood up and looked out the window as though Buu would be standing out there to greet them. The mutant wasn't there, yet his screams had somehow carried up to the Lookout and were reverberating throughout its halls. Everyone residing in the sanctuary peeked out from the many rooms and ran out to the clearing in search of the source.
It was definitely Buu. To Vegeta, it sounded like he was dying.
the Saiyan turned to Dende as if the young Namekian would have an answer but the look he saw on the Guardian's face only mirrored his own.
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Mind Rape