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Bejiita Unattached	By : RenaSama Category: Dragon Ball Z > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 3097 -:- 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.

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Bejiita - Unattached

Author: Rena "Sama" / 'the light'

Contact: soaringshadow@yahoo.com

Date Written: 1-13-03

Rated: NC-17

Warnings: Yaoi, rather lemony, lil angsty, steamy, language. Enjoy ^^

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Just using the characters for my own amusement. So don't sue!

| ...words... | denotes thought.

===

Part 1

Longing. Obsession. Insanity.

Those are the only words to describe my emotions right now. Never before has anyone been witness to such unbridled cravenness. How could this have happened to me? Why do I even bother asking myself this? I feel a vice like grip around my already battered heart. Because I already know the answer.

I fell for a saiyajin who barely knows who or what he is. Who barely thinks of me outside of sparring or battle. Who even after my declaration barely has a clue, nor the slightest inkling of my feelings for him. I love him. I want him. He was practically made for me. A match, a pair crafted only in heaven.

Yet he does not seem to care.

"Wow! Really Bejiita? Well that's great! Uh, I love you too!" He said, while smiling innocently like the fool he is. But he didn't catch my meaning. Not in the least. He loves everything! Perhaps that's the problem. He does not return my passion. Not in the same way.

I love you... back home, any saiyajin would kill to hear these words from me. That fact sends another bitter sting to my heart. I can no more call him my own, than I can see planet Bejiita ever again.

===

It's been months since I made my futile confession. Not one day has passed that I didn't think of him. I stay with Buruma now, just to keep my sanity. She's a pleasant little diversion. A nice distraction from what I really want. Nothing more. How sad. She deserves better. But I selfishly keep her to myself. To warm my bed. So I needn't sleep alone.

Alone.

Is it possible to fear a mere word?

I stay with her now, hoping she'll make me forget about him. Another useless gesture. I don't even have to see him. 'Out of sight, out of mind' has never applied to me. I believe that is the root of my most recent... problem...

I can't even hear his name anymore without feeling the need to touch myself. I don't even want to imagine what I would do if I saw him right now. I've been avoiding him for months, skipping our matches and sparring times. Much to his dismay, but surprisingly, and luckily, he has not pressed
the issue.

I just can't trust myself around him anymore.

===

At night, when it's quiet, and no one's around, I walk through my house, and find myself drawn to a picture of him on the table. Smiling as always. Not a moronic showing of teeth, but a genuine, and irresistibly charming smile. His head cocked to the side. His loose clothing just barely concealing the steely muscles underneath, and soft skin covering them. A hand raised and waving more friends over in a care free manner.

The moonlight cuts through a window over my head and hits the picture, making him seem luminous, ethereal, and untouchable. I stare at the picture for far longer than necessary. Taking in every part of him, every minute detail the picture has taken, and frozen in time forever.

Somehow, the camera even manage to capture a glimpse of his bright soul along with his handsome face and long, corded neck. His thick raven hair, and pouty lips. Soft lips... I lean over to kiss the picture, wishing he could feel it. A familiar heat builds between my legs. My face is flushed. I'm even starting to sweat.

| What's happening to me? |

I barely hear the door at the end of the hall creak open. I nearly drop the picture in an effort to put it back on the table, and look normal.

"Bejiita... it's late. Come to bed," Buruma whispers in that certain way. She leaves the door slightly ajar, and crawls into bed. Waiting for me, and what's to follow. I rush to her side, driven by the great need to bury myself inside her again and again, after getting worked up over thinking of that, beautiful, infuriating, bastard for the thousandth time. I use her and the relief her body can give to hide from the truth. Trying not to imagine a spiky haired saiyajin, moaning and panting under me. Trying not to pretend that this is him screaming for me to fuck him, and not Buruma.

"Aah! You..your so intense..today Beji..ita!" Buruma pants.

"OOhh! M... make me come... my prince.." I hear Kakarotto's voice in my mind over her's.

| God..I want him so...this is torture! |

"Uuhh!! Oh..OH God..Bejiita!!" Buruma yells in my ear, and Kakarotto yells in my head.

I yell back just as loudly, as if to answer. "AAh!!..Uummh!... Aaa...Ka..ka.r..!" I immediately bite my lip, before trying to drown out the last syllables of his name with another moan. Hoping she wouldn�t notice. She continued to scream and groan, but not as loudly as before. When we finally find release, I pretend to drop right off to sleep. Avoiding any uncomfortable questions.

Now I can't even trust myself with her anymore.

===

I turn to Buruma for release less and less now, and it's taking a serious toll on me. I find myself enduring a seemingly perpetual hard on. Which earns me many interesting stares from both men and women. But not from the one I want to notice it.

I sleep in my own room more now. Trying to sate my constant cravings for him with my own hands. How strange that my feelings for him would manifest themselves in such a manner.

I began monitoring his ki for any odd fluctuations or drastic spikes. The kind of ki patterns, and jumps that have nothing to do with fighting. I made it a habit to try to control my time of orgasm. Only when felt his ki spike to it's highest point, only when I felt him reach climax through his energy, would I allow myself to follow suit into the carnal bliss. Imagining his hands on me. Or perhaps his seed splashing like wet, warm ribbons over my stomach and face. His heated panting in my ear, or his trembling body shaking the bed. Not my own.

But it didn't stop there.

I would indulge in my 'bad habit' more and more frequently. Not just at night. Sometimes I would do ...that... in the middle of the day when I thought no one else was around. But even then I choked back my noises from fear that I was wrong, and that someone was indeed near by, and would hear me.

I began to need, and seek relief in the strangest, and most inappropriate of times. At some social functions Buruma would drag me to. In the bathrooms at restaurants. While training in the gravity room. Every single time Kakarotto came to mind. But it was never enough. It was never with the real thing. Only a phantom of him I created in my own mind. That, and I always had to be quiet. Something I never was during sex.

Then I became even more daring. I did it out in the open. I would fly far, and wide. To desolate, quite, wooded and grassy, or uninhabited places. I would come here and pleasure myself, and be as loud as I like. All the while thinking of the one I love. The only one I really wanted. The one I couldn't have.

Some of my favorite fantasies would take place right here, in this grassy field, with the one tall oak tree. No one for miles. No one to disturb us, no one to cast their accusing eyes, or contemptuous stares.

In my mind, we would spar as usual. Except this time, he would notice the erections I always had during our matches. He would stop and smirk, showing that he had discovered my 'little secret.' It wasn't little at all. I would throw a punch and he would flit away. Dodging it easily, before he materializes behind me, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me to his broad chest. He's so warm. His heart beats hard against my back, from our earlier exertions.

His hands would only just begin to travel down my body, but I'd already be trembling with warm desire. Not even bothering to cover my enthusiasm, nor to break his hold on me.
His large hands would travel down past my hips to squeeze my heated flesh through my pants.

"Unmh!" I would moan loudly and he would chuckle. A warm puff of breath tickling my ear. "Ooh. What have we here?" he would ask as if he didn't know.

He would pull my pants down a little, and he would pull on me with full, and even strokes as I would with my own hands in reality.

But in my head, I would break away, putting some distance between us before turning back to him with a flushed face. Half-heartedly putting up a struggle. I try to pull up my pants, and fall back into a fighting stance, but he grabs my hands, and captures my lips for a kiss.

"Mmhh!.." We moan in unison at the back of our throats. I begin to lean into him before catching myself, and pulling away again. Pretending I don't want this. My adrenaline pumping now, from both our spar and our mutual need.

My head swims, and my hands pump a bit faster as my imagination runs away with me.

We wrestle each other down to the floor, growling, and nipping, pulling at each other�s clothes. I punch him in the arm lightly. He smacks me on the ass and I yelp, as I bite him on his neck, just behind his ear.

"UUHnn!..ummh!"

I imagine he loves being bitten. Because I like to bite. How strange. How fun.

He leans down to steal another kiss, and I welcome him. Sucking on his tongue greedily, while he finds my hardness and strokes it again. He only pumps a few times before moving his hand a bit lower and rubbing my testicles with his thumb.

"Mmmph!.." I let out a startled moan into his mouth, as my hands find the fabric of his shirt and tear it. He breaks the kiss and pushes me down with a low growl, accompanied by a devilish grin. He flips me over on my stomach suddenly, and pins me down. I yelp and moan at the same time as he tears my clothes off with his teeth. I feel them graze my backside as he rips away my pants. The moist air wafts over my skin. I feel more naked somehow.

His warm hands mold, and kneed my ass, as he drops nips and kisses over it and the small of my back. Shuddering, I arc into his touch. "Innnh!..aah!!"

My erection is almost painfully hard now, in both the real world, and in the one I've created in my head.

I start to tremble violently, bucking my hips a bit to ease some of the pressure.

Now I pull my pants all the way down and off. Trying to match the fantasy as much as I can, I turn over on my stomach and continue to stroke myself. Panting and moaning all the while.

I hear rustling behind me.

"H..hurry..Kakaro...tto .." I say a bit breathlessly. Pleading for him to give me what I need.
This fantasy is a rare one for me. It's one of the few where I'm not the one taking, but the one being taken.
"i>"UUNnn.." I groan in gratitude as I feel him lie over me finally, and his fleshy tip presses against my entrance.

"AAhh!..ohh ...OOH!" I'm bucking my hips towards my hand now, nearly sobbing in pleasure, as warning signs of orgasm run down over my fingers.

I moan loudly as he pushes into me with one long, masterful thrust. It hurts. But god it feels so good to have movimoving inside of me. He howls his pleasure in my ear as he takes me slow and hard. Just the way I like it. Just hitting that place with every movement of his hips.

It feels so deliciously good. In my mind he doesn't even have to pump me to drive me to climax.
"Unn...UUHh!.ooh!..!!" I scream in time with each of his thrusts. My voice going higher than I thought possible. And Kakarotto is just as vocal as I am. If not more.

I'm so close now, I can taste it. I can feel it rushing towards me.

"Onnh!!..ah..AHH!..Be..jiiita!!!" he shrieks in my ear.

Threatening to roll over me like waves, drowning in pleasure, and I find I don't ever want to come up for air. In a last effort to emulate my dream, I suck on my middle and index finger. Wetting them as I stroke my erection even faster than before. I push my fingers into myself, as far as they will go

"Scream for me...Bejiita.."

That was my last shred of control.

"oh..Uh..UHH...Kaka..rotto !!!" I howl. Yelling my pleasure to the world. My seed spilling over my hand in an endless, creamy torrent as it has countless times before. Just like the tears that always come afterwards. They sting my eyes, and roll down my cheeks. I know tho mao matter how loud I scream for him, he will never hear me.

"Kaka..ro..tto..." I whisper in a pleading tone, so sure that no one was listening.

I didn't realize how wrong I was.

TBC
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