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Possession	By : Spacefille Category: Dragon Ball Z > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 4844 -:- 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
- 1-Possession
- 1
I'm sorry that AFF.NET managed to corrupt all of my stories. Blame them, not me.

Possession

by Marie

Date Written: approx. March 2002

Author's Notes: This was the first DragonBall Z fanfic I ever finished. It is pure PWP.

Warnings: Inappropriate behavior on the behalf of an adult towards a minor. Show/Script mutilation on my behalf. A/U like tendencies.

Disclaimer: They do not belong to me, and I am not profiting from this in anyway.

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Then

I hate him.

Son Gohan. As powerful as all heck, and so caught up in his own innocence it's sickening. I watch as he studies himself in the water, incredibly pleased with himself and his new armor. Reeking of childlike ideals and dreams - "I look like a super hero!" - that I could puke. I study him from where I stand against the ship, sneering. Stupid little half-breed cur... only his father would be so dumb as to breed himself with one of the weakest races in the galaxy. The fact that he even exists at all is both a mockery and a hope... a mockery of the fact that my race is dead, and a hope in the way that something of our soon to be extinct people will live on. I hate him for that hope... everything about him is Saiyan-- from the ironic fact that he actually can fight, the nasty little brat, to his ridiculous hair that someone has taken the time to try to tame, to the power he can generate when he is enraged.

Grimacing, I watch as he struts a couple more times in front of the stream, then snort, pushing away from the wall. Light dances in font of my eyes for a moment as my body reminds me once again that I am in desperate need of rest, to which I merely shake my head and grunt.

"Hey kid," I half call, half snarl out at him.

Gohan turns away from the bank, startled.

"Come here," I order.

I can see the hesitation as it flits across his young face. He doesn't want to... he still has enough sense to be frightened of me. But it's that same fear that reminds him that if he doesn't obey I could more than likely beat him into a bloody pulp and no one would be here to stop me... not with his bald headed friend gone and his father serenely healing back in the ship. I smirk, crossing my arms against my chest.

"Come *here* kid," I repeat, smirk growing when he flinches. Slowly he trudges over to stand in front of me, his chin jutted out slightly to display his courage.

Fool. I wait until he is standing directly in front on me, then bring my hand down, pleased when he flinches again, only to lay my hand casually on top of his head. He grows pale, expecting to be hit. After all, last time I touched him gently I had followed that up with a knee to the stomach that had left him writhing on the ground in pain.

However that isn't in my plans-- at least not this time. My hand doesn't increase in pressure at all as it travels down to his shoulder, then over his arm, squeezing lightly to test the strength of the muscles there. And down further to his hip. Upper thigh. Crotch. He starts nervously as I cup his balls, weighing them in my palm. In fact he is *quite* panicked... I can tell by the odd way his breath is hitching. I merely ignore him and continue, up the under developed abs that speak of one day incredible volume and strength, up his chest, to his chin. This I grab with a harsh grip, wrenching his face up towards mine. He blinks and gulps, his eyes extremely wide and fearful. Wuss. I leer down at him. "So you want to be a super hero?" I smirk down at him.

He nods very slightly, the expresson hon his face wary.

I snort. The sudden disgust I feel for this half-breed is incredible... he is nothing. Absolutely nothing, nothing worth nothing more than to be dirt under my boot. In fact I had *had* his face under my boot only a few short days before, purely for my own amusement. That was, of course, before I realized that he had tricked me. The fool.

I push him away from myself with a great deal of strength, sending him flying back to embed himself into the dirt quite a few feet away. I turn from him, intent on trumping inside Freiza's ship.

"Wait!" The stupid kid calls after me. "Where are you going?"

I turn back, a mocking smile on my face. "I'm going to take a nap," I say. "Don't worry kid, with you out here playing super hero, I feel real safe."

I catch the embarrassed flush on his face before I turn around again to march back inside.

In all honesty I do feel safe. Partly at least. Hell, I know that if the kid has any of his father in him at he he would fight to the death before allowing any harm to befall the dragon balls. Or his comrades in battle. Lucky me. The kid may be an asset to me yet...

~~~~

Now

Yet again I want to be left alone. Nothing more, nothing less.

Yes, I know that I already spend the vast majority of my life alone; but that's the way I prefer it. When I'm needed I'll know and then I'll show up to a battle in all my glory to prove thonceonce again, that the great Saiyan Vegeta still has it. Of course after the fight I might be told off for not fighting fair. Or maybe Kakarott will start pretending we're the best of friends. Or someone will start acting stupid, at which point I'll get pissed off and have to leave anyway, just to avoid bashing someone's head through a wall.

Contrary to popular belief however, I do have control. I have lots of it. I use it everyday. I stew and keep all of my negative feelings inside. It's better that way. Of course it works the other way as well... if I actually *like* someone or feel regretful about something, damned if I'm going to say it.

Which makes me about the loneliest person on the face of the planet. In fact I'm as lonely as hell. The only times I'm not lonely is when I'm fighting with my mate. Which is why I'm out here in the first place. I don't want to accidentally hurt the woman. She's not a Saiyan. An ill-aimeast ast at half of my power can reduce her to dust in an instant. A hard punch can break just about every bone in her body. This I constantly have to remind myself of.

What I would give for a fellow Saiyan mate sometimes.

But there are none left. Female that is. Stupid.

I'm used to it though, being alone. Nobody ever bothers me. Which is good-- for them. They KNOW not to come near me... they have been well taught. It is also why I am almost scared right out of my skin when a familiar light tenor voice belonging to one particular half Saiyan came at me from somewhere behind me.

"Vegeta?" It asked.

I leapt about four feet into the air and turned swiftly to face him, my fists clenched and my body ready for *any* sort of attack. Only when I see the startled look of surprise on the Saiyan's face do I relax slightly, snorting softly. Speaking of regret... here is the only person I've EVER apologized to before. It won't happen again. The apology, not the incident.

No matter. "What are you doing out here Gohan?" I bark at the teenager. Raising my eyebrow I note the fact that he is wearing at least part of his ridiculous Super Saiyan outfit. Brat.

He blinks, stupidly, like his father. "I... I was just walking." He explains. There is something about the way his gaze suddenly flees downwards towards his shoes and his uneasy body language that indicates to me that there is something... out of place with the teenager. Whatever. I'm not a psychoanalyst. I don't particularly care.

However he is invading my personal space... this is my territory. It's a good distance from Satan City. I come here to meditate on occasion I can actually calm myself enough to meditate and practice when I'm not. "Why." Is my clipped response. There has got to be some sort of explanation to why,all all the places on earth, Gohan would be here.

He actually blushes this time, bringing his gaze back up to meet mine. "I -" he hesitates. "Nothing. I'm sorry," he apologizes. "I didn't know you were here."

Now I can't figure out if he's telling the truth or lying as I glare at him, watching his face perform a slow burn.

Finally he shifts nervously and shuffles from one foot to the other for a moment. "So what are you doing out here?" he asks finally.

I snort. "If you must know, your brat brother is visiting my son presently. I can't stand the noise." And I wanted to be alone. I add mentally. Or at least I did...

He's silent for a moment more. "Ah. I'll leave you alone then!" he says in an overly cheerful voice. One that grates on my nerves almost as much as his fathers', and I grit my teeth. He turns around to leave, oblivious.

Huh. But I don't want to be left alone. In fact... I felt quite like... *playing* actually. I'm never curious, but I *would* like to know why...

The ki blast startles him backwards and he turns back to face me, his eyes wide with shock.

The smile on my face is dark and dangerous. "You should stay Gohan," I breathe.

The confusion on his face grows. "I don't..." he begins, before stopping himself. I figure that want to fight was probably going to be the rest of it.

To which I couldn't have cared less about as I sent another ki blast at him. And another and another. Damn kid didn't want to fight. Had other things on his mind. This is great... poor introspective Gohan... al wan wanted was a walk in the woods... perhaps to sort through whatever silly little teenaged problem he had gotten himself into now... and instead he got ME.

I let out a bark of half insane laughter as he lands again, after having to do a good deal of dodges and leaps to avoid my attacks. He stares at me, confusion flooding his still young features. His eyes almost beg to ask why... why I was doing this to him. *What* I was doing to him. Why he couldn't just retreat and go back to walking...

Ah... stupid kid. He may have been somewhat intelligent, (beyond his father's dismal level of intellect that is) thanks to his mother, but when it came to sheer naive he is as bad as his father.

But then, how can he know, without having been overly exposed to Saiyans for most of his life that the game that *I* am playing is a game that is much more instinctual that anything he's ever been exposed to. My territory. Mine. Mine included hapless wanderers that decided to stroll into it. MINE.

Feeling particularly vindictive this evening Vegeta? A voice seemed to drawl though my head at me.

Oh yes...

I toss another blast at the boy, and finally I elect the response I am looking for... he powers up.

Now the fun can begin.

It's the same old dance. Same as the one did while in battle... perhaps with a slight twist. Gohan wouldn't stop until s wos won... or at least until his ethics tell him it's time to step aside. My pride, however, won't allow me to step aside OR stop.

I wonder vaguely when this will end.

When he submits I suppose. He's amusing me to no end right now. He's not fighting at near full strength, heck even I know that with the dismal slacking off he's done for the last four or five years he still should be much more powerful than me. His hesitation is slowly draining his energy, just out of the sheer fact that my attacks are so much more powerful and are hitting him dead on. Yet all of his mediocre attacks have a certain desperation to them, as if his life is at stake.

My smirk grows. For all he knows, it is.

My smirk flees as he manages to actually get a hit on me. Before I can counter it, I watch, partly amazed at his apparent total lack of endurance as he falls back, looking very exhausted.

Huh. My turn. I let loose a series of attacks that end with my knee embedding gracefully into his gut. He falls-- I go down with him, to smash into the ground below. For a moment he lays there, tense and struggling to breathe properly, then relaxes, letting out a soft hiss of pain through his teeth. The blond hair bleeds into black as his head falls back with a thump into the dirt.

I smile nastily down at him from where I sit straddling his chest.

Mine.

His eyes go wide as I grip his shoulders and bring my face down, leaning into his neck. My rough tongue trances the sweet sweat soaked skin along his throat. I inhale deeply, smelling him. The scent he's giving off... it's beyond heady. Arousing... I need...

I wonder if he even knows that he smells like that. Growling softly, my teeth clamp onto the soft skin, biting down. I let got, my mouth kissing the small puncture wounds my teeth have left.

"Vegeta..." he begins almost desperately, the thrum of his voice vibrating against my mouth.

I chuckle softly then proceed to ignore him as I continue, ripping his silly Saiyan Man shirt open with deliberate abandon. He says nothing... I know and he knows that he has already lost. I can't pretend to know why he wanted to submit to me in the first place, goodness knows he could have fought a little bit harder, blocked a bit more... but now he knows he's mine. To do with as I pleastil til I decide to let him go again. Lucky me. And *I* plan to carry out my intentions right through until completion.

I continue my way down his chest, licking and biting at his skin. He is half hard when I reach his waist and extract his pants from him. The arousal pounds off of him in thick waves of smell and heat, peaking sharply as I inspect him. Growling, I reach out and cup his balls, rolling them about in my hand. He moans softly, head falling back. Submissive. Relaxed but tensed with anticipation. My grin grows feral.

Who would have thought that Kakerott's son *enjoyed* being dominated? Of course there is always that strong willed human that he has recently chosen to hang around with, the daughter of that fool...

Speaking of which... logic momentarily overrides instinct. Glowering, I lean up so that my face is mere inches from mine. "Aren't you involved with a human woman?" I snap, my eyes drilling holes into his.

He half smiles, half smirks at me. "Aren't you?"

I frown. "Answer the question." I hiss.

In reply he leans up and kisses me. Desperately. "It doesn't matter..." he pants, when I finally gather a handful of his hair and jerk his face away from mine.

No it doesn't. Huh. He surprises me. I dare say he turned out a little more Saiyan than I thought. Allowing myself an awful smirk, I lean down and crush my lips to his.

And he lets me. Damn it, Kakerott's kid lets me...

Surprisingly he is a willing participant as I continue. In fact he responds to all of my ministrations with the submissive enthusiasm of a defeated dog, which is quite threatening to drive me crazy. My mouth leaves him gasping for air and moaning appreciatively before I roll him over, unable to wait any longer. With a quick jerk of my hand and arm I have him up on all fours, ready and waiting and trembling slightly with anticipation. Nimbly I remove my pants and grab his hips, positioning myself. Then I push inside.

Fuck. He's tight. I pull out partially again, then move in and out of him a couple of more times, just to get warmed up. He lets out a series of little whimpers as I do so, I growl at him, snapping with my teeth at the back of his neck.

I can feel him beneath my groping fingers ... he's as hard as a rock and unable to do anything about it with his hands and arms occupied with supporting himself to prevent his face from being smeared into the dirt. I smirk, my hand encircling his cock and squeezing him especially hard.

He screams, his sharp clear high-pitched voice ringing through the clearing. I remove my hand to grip his hips and I thrust harder, thoroughly enjoying myself. He lets out a couple of choked noises, then responds, moving up against me. We move together in rhythm for a while... until he tenses. Just a bit. Just enough for me to notice and ignore it.

"Um, V-Vegeta?" He begins tentatively a moment later from between gasps of breath.

"Yes boy?" I retort nastily.

He gasps for breath beneath me. "Could you..." he stops, flustered. "I need to..." He stops again.

Oh this is amusing. I quickly deduce his problem. He needs to come. He would like my "help". In fact he probably can't even come without me saying so. I relish the control I have over him. Grinning I pound into him roughly, angling my thrusts on purpose and electing a gurgled moan out of him. "What?" I snap cruelly. "You're going to have to tell me, brat..."

He mumbles something under his breath.

"You're going to have to speak louder than that!" I snap again, releasing his hips suddenly. Reaching up, I rake my nails over his backside. He shudders under me, a live wire of tension.

"I-I need to come!" He cries finally out loud, balefully.

I still for a moment. Only for a moment, just long enough to grip his hair and yank his head back. "...no." I whisper. "Not until I say so." I let his head go and go back to gripping his sweat-slicked hips, beginning to thrust again.

He slumps forward, half crumbling under me before steadying out. "Please..." he whispers under his breath.

I smirk. Fine. Cruelly I reach around him and grip his painfully hard organ in my hand again, moving my palm up and down his rigid length. The pleasing keel of need fulfillment that wells up from his chest sends unexpected hot bolts of pleasure through me. Now I'm nearing the breaking point-- I can only hold off for a few moments more...

"Please, pleasepleasepleasevegetaplease'geta-aaah..."

That breathless pained voice belonging to *him* is what finally pushes me off the edge. I come inside of him violently; one hand digging bloody into his shoulder, letting out a howl that leaves the woods and hills around us ringing. As the same time I don't release my grip on him, smirking at the fact that as I come down from my own orgasm he is trembling beneath me, his body caught on the very edge between pain and pleasure.

I can't help myself. Drawing out of him, I roll him over, turning him so that he can see me, his master. And I can likewise see his face, flushed with youthful pleasure, contorted with pain. Smirk never leaving, I lean down tracing a fingertip along the swollen tip of his cock, making his whole body twitch in my arms. Begging eyes gaze up at me, shining with adoration and terrible need. 'Please,' He mouths. I lower my head so that my face is bare inches away from his, trailing my tongue up his sweat streaked face, then I pull away and nod. "Come." I whisper. "Now."

He does so in my arms, in a vibrant display of jerks and movements, absolute relief flooding his features.

So beautiful.

When he is done he turns his head in towards my still covered chest, mouth gasping softly against the fabric as he fights to bring his trembling body back under control. I smirk down at him, running my hand down the side of his flushed face. I hold him like that for a moment, marveling.

I still don't know why he let me do it. Or why I did it in the first place. Fuck Kakerott's son. I do know one thing though, when he recovers enough to peer up at me, the flush of his cheeks turning to the flush of embarrassment, his eyes all wide and curious and open. I know it, and so does he.

I lean down towards him, and he smiles softly, right before I kiss him soundly, demandingly. He agrees silently, his mouth is yielding under mine, his body supine in my arms.

He is mine.

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End.
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Possession