How You Remind Me (Remix)

Disclaimer: I don\'t own these characters. This was written for

pleasure, not profit.

How You Remind Me (Remix)

For Nevyn: The wonderful person I think about every time I hear this

song.

Staring at the ceiling; watching the shadows come and go. Lying in bed in a

room at the far end of the complex; it is cold and still. All noises from

outside are muted and vague and seem to exist on a different dimension from

me. The smell that lingers is of ash and sweat. My nostrils are tainted

from the after-taste in my mouth. Days and nights have been passing in

apathy. Besides indifference, only anger fills my heart.

The death of my sworn enemy has reduced me to this. It isn\'t a shift of

blame, but merely a realization. When he died, I knew then of how wrong I

was. So wrong, wrong, wrong...

There\'s a knock on the door and I lie there staring at the ceiling. The

sunset bathes everything in cool, blue light. Shadows meld and dance as

they\'re being consumed by darkness. I could make many pathetic analogies

about this act and my life as of late. Apply something like that so I can

pity myself perhaps. Just filling time as I wait for what I know is to come.

Closing my eyes, I let my arm dangle off the side of the bed. I think I

feel numb.

\"Vegeta...\" her voice comes softly through the wood. So disconnected from

her. Was there ever a connection in the first place? Encroaching on my

little self-serving universe, I wait for the ambassador of reality to speak

again. I imagine her lightly leaning on the door, a hand placed carefully as

if she doesn\'t want to intrude, \"I just wanted to let you know that dinner is

ready.\" She speaks more steadily now. Then, in a burst, she finished her

visit with, \"Trunks almost died today. He\'s injured, but he\'ll be fine.

Just thought you\'d like to know.\" With that, she is gone, carrying with her

the burden of feelings for me. I almost pity her.

Deep blue, like a newborn star, colors me in patches. I try not to think

about how I\'m coming apart at the seams. Made a vow that day and couldn\'t

break it today. Knew Trunks was in danger. Knew something wasn\'t right.

Knew something was off. I just couldn\'t will myself to get up and act.

Thought about it though, and what it would mean to me and the others if I

did. The ultimate conclusion and truth I could devise was simply not much.

I was a god once for about an hour. Everything went downhill since then..

Maybe that was a sign. Maybe I\'m not supposed to have that power.

My fingers glide over the surface of glass, like a nervous habit. Indigo

weighs down the room now. I feel like it\'s crushing me and I\'m not sure why.

Restlessness is my destiny.

Kakarot... Why did he sacrifice himself? Why did he chose to not return?

What was he trying to accomplish? In death, he changed me. My unfulfilled

obsession, lacking a root on this mortal plane, has transformed into a

festering virus inside my head. With him dead, I\'m the only one left. I am

alone and have noticed, for the first time, how much it hurts. I swore never

to fight again, because power corrupts me - impairs my judgment. Made me

believe being the Prince of Saijins actually meant something.

He never knew. I never told him. Couldn\'t really admit it to myself at the

time either. Even if circumstances were different and I communicated to him

my deep, dark secret, I don\'t believe it would\'ve changed the outcome.

Kakarot.. ever the one to be sympathetic, but to never emotionally

understand. I can only hypothesize on how he would\'ve reacted. Such an

awkward situation with so many variables and unknown expectations. But I can

say it now because he\'s not here. There is no pressure, no tension, no

sudden bout of nausea...

\"I love you,\" my own voice surprises me. Listening to it, I wonder how fake

it sounds. I wonder what I actually mean. The final rays of light thinly

stretch across the ceiling and I\'m saying the phrase over and over again in

hopes that I\'ll derive something out of it. As if I could properly attach

words to how I feel. The hatred for him burns within me, still strong and

unwavering. So angry at him for deserting what he has worked so hard to

defend. Angry that he left me here to rot. Angry that he\'d never

reciprocate. Angry because I\'m wrong and he\'s right. It takes effort to be

this angry.

Fingertips gliding in a monotonous pattern till I will myself to turn away in

disgust. I sit up in bed, just hunched and staring at nothing. I live in

everlasting boredom because I\'ve lost all that holds purpose for me.

Kakarot, the bastard. Infuriating, troublesome, incomprehensible..

beautiful.. bastard. He haunts me now, even in death, as I hold second

place; as I dream.. suffering, humiliated, struggling in agony. Dark eyes

watching me, piercing me, and smoldering me. Ebony abysses that reflect a

bright soul. He\'s so tragically unlike me.

Help me, please, I never realized how far I\'d fallen until he left me here,

alone.

The degree of pain, of loathing, of desire is only amplified by his absence.

He would have easily crushed those cretins today if he had been here. Maybe

not, but I could\'ve went wearing that pompous smirk while taunting his -- our

-- hardship. Could\'ve let myself get ruffed up a bit. I used to have such a

high tolerance of pain in public. Now, I think I let it happen, just to hear

him say my name, even if it was packed with concern. It\'s one of the few

times he\'d acknowledge me.

Recalling how often I\'ve come to his aid or his to mine in just the nick of

time. Recalling the few times we\'ve touched, besides our fight. His warm

hands gentle, like a surgeon dissecting me. The way I would never talk

unless it was to him or about him...

An intake of air and a brief closing of the eyes. My skin crawls at these

forbidden thoughts. I couldn\'t will them away if I tried. Remembering the

moments just before consciousness escaped me, when the black dots blotted my

vision and my ki descended and dwindled, when Kakarot would scream my name in

surprise.. A strangled moan fills my throat - bitter, ashamed, and

desperate.

I hate him for doing this to me. The more I want him back, the more I want

to kill him myself. To be alone with him, to fight with him, to say things

that\'d infuriate him. Just to see his reaction. Just to be with him.

Instead of trying to execute him for treason, I should\'ve kidnapped him from

this planet. Except I know how stupid that sounds and how impossible it

would\'ve been back then for me to truly appreciate Kakarot as a person rather

than a tool. All of that feels so long ago, so faint that it\'s almost as if

it\'s not a part of me anymore. It kind of hurts.

The knowledge that I\'m losing touch is more troublesome than the thought of

my inability to connect with a dead person. Am I trying to convince myself

to ignore the importance of the past in a vain effort to provide a blank

future? What could that possibly offer? I know I\'m thinking Kakarot, but I

also know how stupid that sounds. He\'s untouchable, unreachable, bound to

everyone else but me.

\'Asshole broke his promise. Probably dismissed it the moment he made it. He

owes me a fight.

It\'s so unamusingly funny the way I\'ve never had anything to call my own and

he\'s had it all. It makes perfect sense for this to happen. He deserves all

that he\'s got and I just perpetuated the pain in my life by my actions.

Instead of coming to Earth, I should\'ve ran away. I hated Freiza so much. So

much more than Kakarot... These thoughts feel rudely oppressive in the

darkness of night. I pull back the covers and swing my legs off the bed.

Getting up, I reach down and pick up the bottle as I sloppily drag myself to

the balcony. The night air is like the breath of an ifrit and I lean on the

railing lazily. Staring up at the stars, I finally bring the bottle to my

parched lips. The liquid burns and it\'s better my throat than my eyes. I

hate being this weak, but I enjoy the respite it brings.

I\'m not sure how long it takes before I\'m buzzed. Like fog in my head or

swabs of black cotton in the whiteness of clarity. Coherency isn\'t nearly as

important as temporary memory loss, or the feeling of placidity. Kakarot..

you\'ve reduced this phoenix to ashes and now it has no desire to burn again.

Only for you, only for you...

God.. I\'m drunk...

I\'d probably cry if I could remember how. I\'m hopelessly lost in this

melancholy nightmare of repetition and loneliness. The bottle\'s empty and

I\'m sitting on the balconey in my boxers, sweating. I\'m so angsty it\'s

pathetic, but I don\'t want to care right now so I don\'t.

Why did he chose to stay? What sort of lame justification could he give for

causing all this discord? Damnit!

YOU RUINED ME, Kakarot.. and now you\'re LEFT ME to my own devices so I can

finish destroying myself. Fucking bastard.. I will never see you again, and

you probably don\'t even care... I am so foolish for giving you what I never

knew I had.

No control.. I despise this mundane routine of trading one restraint for

another.

If only I could convince myself to let it go. To truly not give a damn would

be divine. But here I am on a balcony, half-naked, inebriated, and pining

away at a homosexual crush. Prince of Saijins? What a joke. I\'m the one

who has betrayed the Saijins. I\'m the only making a mockery of my own past.

Help me, for I do not have the strength to convince myself to act. I have

arrived a the calm center of the hurricane and can\'t persuade myself to

escape this personal Hell of doubt and loathing.

I have realized my life has no worth and I\'m not sure how to react. I was so

used to being confident and certain. Everything black and white. Everything

about me, me, me... but then why has Kakarot consumed me so? How was he

different from the rest?

Kakarot spared me. Kakarot forgave me. Kakarot showed me compassion. And

for this, I love him. Love his smirks and his dark eyes. Those eyes that I

dream about. My thoughts are a jumbled cyclone of a wreck. I hate him, I

love him, I want him back, I want to kill him, strangle him, beat him, murder

him.. make love to him..

Beads of sweat irritate the side of my face as a wave of panic overcomes me.

My desire has never been this strong. Maybe I\'m looking to him for salvation

again. I need to sleep. To be without him for a few hours. Maybe I could

release myself from these bonds of obsession. Yeah, right.

I grunt as I stand, and accidentally knock the bottle off the balcony. I

reach for it, but I can\'t move that fast while I\'m under the influence.

Watching it break made me want to laugh, and I don\'t know why. It didn\'t

shatter too bad; strong glass and soft ground saw to that. Bulma may find

it, but I\'d rather risk it than make the effort to destroy evidence of my

addiction.

It takes too long to get to my bed because each step would cause three more

to go off course. I notice I left the door open as hot air wafts through the

air-conditioning in slices. It feels oddly pleasant as I manage to crawl

into my bed. I collapse onto my back and give a sigh of relief. Lethargy

takes over. Limbs heavy and breathing deep. Restless, but relaxed. I

concentrate on how nice it feels to be lying down, and everything starts to

fade away...

...



Smirking.

I was smirking.

Not a cold smirk. Not a smirk of superiority. A perfect smirk for this

situation. A gentle upturn of the lips to express satisfaction. A dark

smirk. A warm smirk. An act of flirtation. The Prince of Saijins was

flirting.

Sitting still. I didn\'t want to break the moment. My eyes were watching

his. So deep and dark. So mischievous. So flirtatious. It made my blood

boil. I ached for touch, but didn\'t dare break our game. Such delightful

torment. Unspoken words exchanged in the most miniscule movements.

Sultry and delicious with ivory skin and velvet fur. Slowly - excruciatingly

slow - the obsidian uncoils from his waist. The motion distracts me from his

eyes, but I have no qualms because this was his intention. I hope my gaze

burns him as his does me. Beautifully crafted ornamentation adorns his

perfect figure. Gorgeous. Luscious. A blood red kimono - masculine, and as

silky as his skin. Mythical creatures of power are woven in burgundy, but

their power pales in comparison to my handsome beast before me.

Black fur rises - curling, dancing, teasing - methodically caressing his

concealed muscles to leave trails of seductive musk behind. His eyes remain

transfixed upon my face, searching for any reaction I offer. If fire were

black, his eyes would be made of it. His tail brushes softly, painting

himself sensual just for me, his prince. An idle flick of the tip pulls the

top open, looking exactly like an accident when we both know better.

His chest - flawless. Each curve, each dip, each defining line makes him

look like a sculpture, as if he were liquid marble. This small show of flesh

tests my conviction. Who will win this game? We both know, but it is such a

fun game to play.

The tail trails higher, snaking up to his corded neck and behind his ear.

The end caresses like a fragrant petal of a flower. Deviously, it travels

across his face, and he closes his eyes in bliss. It\'s dangerous, it\'s lewd,

it\'s delectable to watch him. Those eyes open to stare at me, to watch me as

I watch that glittering onyx fur trace his lips with infinite care and

patience. Smoldering eyes finally acquiesce.

Perhaps he saw my need straining in my navy pants. I\'m swollen and I ache,

but it\'s a delightful one. I\'d endure it forever for him. He stands

gracefully, moving only in fluid motions - and slowly, always so slowly. His

walk sways with lust and carnality, like a caged animal of paradise. He

comes close - close enough for touch. We stare for a moment and his eyes

whisper of promises. I burn and strain, but I am his captive, his slave, his

freedom.

Hands come into play, opening his top completely to bare his torso to me. A

painful pulse shoots through my groin as I watch the rise and fall of his

chest. Perfection. As he extracts his arms from their ruby encasement, I

marvel at him. Two pink nipples stand, serving further to taunt me. Then I

realize he isn\'t moving because he awaits my command - my permission.

\"Step closer,\" I speak lowly, my voice a mere, pleading rumble. He obeys,

and the new proximity brings his scent with it. It smelled like burnt wood,

a thunderstorm, and power, yet it smelled not of these things, but of

him. I inhale deeply, letting it intoxicate me; bathe me. It

stimulates every nerve ending, licks at every erogenous zone, and blesses me

with his beauty. Unable to hardly breathe, I soon feel light-headed, almost

dizzy. It is europhic.

This time, it is my hands that grace his form. I purposely avoid his skin,

however, as I know that would spoil the last vestiges of our game. The

belt\'s knot comes undone due to my incessant manipulation, and I carefully

smooth the silk back, letting it slide down his body to the carpeted floor

below.

Awe. I am in awe at his nudity. Sleek, fit, and strong. It is as if he is

begging to be touched, pleasured, worshipped. I want to shower him in

adoration, but that is not for today. His heavy erection juts proudly into

the air. He\'s the perfect size.

Now a smirk is on his lips - dark, warm, flirtatious. I feel insane for a

moment, as if this is too much to bear, as if I truly lost at the game that

has no real loser. Perhaps he senses my desperation - my need for our game

to finally come to an end. His hands come to me, lifting my armor from the

chest and shoulders. They tease by sliding down my sides to find the hem of

my shirt. He follows through with the same care I had shown him, not daring

to touch any exposed skin. Our kis are burning like two super novas now.

My restrictions require immediate disposal, so I aid his task by carefully

tearing my clothes. Like a jagged bolt of lightening down my chest, the soft

rip of fabric exposes my battle-honed features. He steals more than just

appreciative glances as I shred the top portion of my pants. Our breathing

has turned irregular by this point, deep and labored. Taking the initiative,

his body leans over mine and his face dips till I catch him half-way.

We kiss.

An explosion of sensation dances across my body and I feel my eyes roll back.

Such simple touches induced by him can bring me to these heights of passion

and arousal. Only him.. only for him...

His tongue coyly sneaks past my teeth to play with my own. Eager moans fill

our throats as we indulge ourselves in a new type of game. And by gods, how

he tastes as good as he looks and smells. My own tail is swaying in

excitement, lightly licking my shoulders with earthen ash, artic ice, and

spiced leather. Turning, curling, twisting, playing.. we continue on till we

tremble and his knees become weak.

His tail unconsciously and enticingly swings behind him as he kneels before

me in submission, but not because I expect it of him, rather because he wants

to. I open my eyes at his departure, trying not to pout and show my

disappointment, my zealousness. I want him more than I have ever wanted

anything in my life, and joy was in my heart for knowing that I would have

him. I am his, but he\'ll be mine.

Electric fire. His touch is warm and gentle, even though it is merely his

fingertips. They drag across my chest, tracing scars with their nails. I

shiver and shudder at every turn he makes; my tail bunches like a coil, the

fur bristles in excitement. His eyes meet mine and my tail snaps the chair

like a whip. The luxurious upholstery yields to my harsh treatment, splitting

and puffing like a true injury. His look had caused that.. his and his

alone. Because I knew of his intentions and I could not will myself to

resist. Those wondrous hands travel down my sides and cease at my hips,

gripping them lightly as he offers another smirk.

Unprepared, I gasp. His full lips caress my erection as light as a feather.

With no pressure, he glides over the testicles, base, shaft, and head.

\"Uhnn..\" I moan as a hot, pink tongue joins in and delicately teases the

ridge. He swipes it gingerly left and right, back and forth, before finally

running over the tip. \"Oh!\" I yelp in ecstasy, my hands instinctively

reaching out and grabbing his hair, but not hard - quite the opposite.

Thoughtfully, he pauses to let me catch my breath. Then, his left hand curls

around the base and brings that fleshy tip back to his lips. He brushes it

against his bottom lip a few times before he dips, taking it into his mouth.

\"Mnh!\" a whine resonates from my throat from the simple act; just his heat

was enough to cause me to pulsate.

His tongue swirls twice before he begins to suck lightly. Gingerly, he pulls

me further into his mouth, and, with his eyes half-closed and a flush on his

cheeks, he groans deeply - as if this were a reward for him. His right hand

palms over my thigh before carefully cupping both of my balls. As he slowly

begins to bob his head, he casually thumbs the sacs he has ensnared. I

realize I am panting and trembling at his ministrations. Realize that such

effortless actions on his part are bringing me to certain states of being I

don\'t desire to reach yet. Exercising restraint, I gently tug on his locks,

non-verbally telling him to stop. He relents, grudgingly, with one last

flick on the tip.

\"Yes?\" I ask of him. Every question that needs to be asked was put into this

one little word. I want to hear him say it. Selfishly, I want to hear him

say the word.

He says it.

\"Yes..\" he breathes out while slowly turning around. Beautiful. He is so

beautiful. Looking over his shoulder, he stabilizes himself on hand and

knee. Like smoke rising into the air, his tail dances upward enticingly. I

choke on my breath at his submission. He is ready and waiting. Am I? His

black eyes beckon me to him, and I kneel down and run my hands over his

flawless skin. His breathing becomes exaggerated after a few moments, but I

don\'t act till I feel prepared.

I bring myself to his entrance, and I tease him a bit by merely rubbing it

there. He tenses at the contact and makes deviously attractive noises,

however, I refuse to take him till he is calm and relaxed. He grows

accustomed to the sensation, and his muscles eventually contract. I watch

him as I take hold of his hip with one hand, but he stays still and

receptive.

I sink into that offered heat - that offered body - and I try not to sob with

joy. \"Vegeetaa..\" he cries out, his back taunt and arched as his tail coils

my wrist. It feels more intense than anything I could have imagined. If the

pleasure could be a song, it would be a classical masterpiece to be cherished

for all time. Hesitantly, I pull back to sink in again, penetrating him

deeper to cause an even louder outburst from him. I can only wonder what

it\'s like for him, yet.. we have all night to find out. Again and again, I

thrust, touching all the right places within him, causing him to scream. In

return, I moan for him from deep within my chest - relieved and grateful at

our coupling.

Our lovemaking is slow and laden with heavy, intoxicating emotions and

sensations. \"Huunh,\" manages to escape his form as he bows his head for a

minute. I slide in a bit harder and his bowed head snaps back to rest on his

shoulders. I can tell his teeth are clenched as he hisses at my change of

pace. I lean over him and pull his back to my chest, so he can feel my heart

beat against it. My arms envelope him and I squeeze him with care.

He says my name.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Not only does my ki flare in response, but I notice that it causes me to

truly sob with joy. A few stray tears tickle my face as the heat in my groin

builds, sending tingling waves of pleasure across my nerve-endings. Oh god..

he is perfect. Absolutely perfect. I kiss his neck and ears, barely

whispering his name while I do so. Suddenly, he starts to tense, so I take

hold of his erection and stroke it till he reaches climax.

His mouth opens in a silent scream and his expression is one of pure ecstasy.

There is nothing more beautiful than this - than of him. Thick cream

splatters my hand and runs down to my wrist in warm rivulets. It feels

wonderful - all of it. He heaves, moaning, as he recovers from his throes of

passion. I feel ecstatic knowing I was responsible for the intensity of

pleasure he has felt.

With a few fluid movements, he turns around and encourages me to stand. I

barely succeed, finding it especially difficult when he stares at me - naked,

glowing, with his semen dribbled on his torso. His expression alone makes my

erection twitch and my knees almost buckle. A few seconds pass, but they

feel like eternity. I feel overwhelmed, so I tell him, \"Kakarot.. I love

you.\" He smiles radiantly.

Finally, he speaks, \"Vegeta..\" My ki leaps at the tone in his voice. My

eyes roll back briefly and I suck some air in to get a hold of myself. I know

what he wants... Still smiling, he says, \"I love you.\" So I give it to him.

Without touching myself, I give it to him.

I orgasm, shouting his name as my seed splashes his face in globs and

streaks. He purrs in delight as I pulse, taking all that I have to offer.

And then I lose myself in the sensation...

ORGASM.

Orgasm.

orgasm..

...



The smell of burning brings me back to myself. I\'m in bed and my boxers are

soaked with semen. I sit up and notice I\'m Super Saijin. I drop out of my

elevated state and get up in search of the unpleasant odor. Flipping the

light switch and examining the room makes me stare.

An imprint of my body at the pinnacle of ecstasy is burned into the mattress,

a horrible reminder of the intoxicating nightmare.

I hate the thing, so I lift the item off of its box spring and drag it out to

the balcony where I throw it over the edge. I stare down at it, silently

surprised at what I\'d done, yet even more shocked that I hadn\'t done more

damage.

The breeze is cool now, but the sun is already warm, so I know it\'s going to

be a hot day.

Something\'s different.

Recognition slowly seeps into my head. I don\'t feel so hollow inside. I

don\'t feel so angry. Nothing\'s changed, but something in me is different.

The cotton of my boxers sticks to my skin.

I start to laugh.

\"He\'ll never love me...\" I say to myself.

I laugh harder.

\"He\'ll never love me!\" I repeat, shouting, insane, exhausted, and

relieved.

The pain is gone now. The anger has become a mere shadow of what it has

been.

I bathe in the sun\'s light for a few minutes.

Peaceful.

I think I\'ll go train.