Desecration: Deprived | By : sefiru Category: Dragon Ball Z > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 2096 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
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Desecration: Deprived
by Sefiru
Here we are. The fifth and last of the Responses to
Desecration (as usual, please read “Desecration” by Vixen first). And to think,
originally I didn’t intend to write these up. This one’s a bit different from
the others … also, I composed it entirely on the computer, I
wonder if that affects my style.
Summary: Goku takes a drastic step
to change Vegeta’s attitude.
Pairing: V/G
Warnings: NC-17, V!angst,
anal, character “death”
Disclaimer: I don’t even own a tissue Akira Toriyama
blew his nose on. T_T
***
He kicked the
headstone again. A year. A whole year had passed since
that day and he still couldn’t get it out of his mind. He’d intended to break
the idiot, to humiliate him beyond his capacity to endure, and he’d succeeded.
How well he’d succeeded. He hadn’t expected Kakarott to react like this.
He’d felt it
happen; they all had. The ki that flared suddenly
flared to supernatural power, and then vanished. Snuffed.
There was nothing under this headstone, there was nothing left but individual
atoms flung though the atmosphere. His first reaction had been denial. The
idiot was hiding; playing a trick. But someone contacted the Kais and confirmed
it: Kakarott was dead, with no explanation but two sentences. I need to rest for a while. I’m waiting.
For what?
He was pleased at
first. Victory; no more disrespect to his royal blood, no more endless blather
about irrelevant emotions. No more rival mocking his power. No more all-out
matches before dawn … no more muscles sliding under golden skin, black eyes
blazing. Within a month he noticed how dull life had become. Sparring brought
no satisfaction, and even the blood of his prey turned to ashes in his mouth.
He kicked the headstone, growling. Damn it, the idiot had been right. And it was too late to do
anything about it.
I am weak. There was no escaping that,
and he hated it. Too weak to keep him, and then too weak to lose him. His tail
had grown back about six months after, and he’d hacked it off in a fit of rage.
What business did he have wearing a tail when he couldn’t even handle his own
emotions? I … love … Kakarott. It was
ridiculous, it was an affront to every principle he held dear, and his life had
crumbled into dust before his eyes because of it. He had destroyed Kakarott,
but Kakarott had defeated him.
The plan came to
him slowly, and at first he didn’t know if he could go through with it. Too weak to keep him. Too weak to lose
him. Which one would win? Because there was one way, just one way, to bring
him back. But Kakarott had rejected that relationship in the strongest possible
terms, so it would have to be the other way around. Could the prince of all Saiyans do that? His need for the other won out over his
pride. Beaten. How he hated it.
He turned away
from the headstone at last, throwing a capsule into the air; it unfolded into a
spaceship. He’d emptied out his savings to equip the vessel with the things he
needed, to make the trip and hopefully to convince Kakarott to accept him. Spurred on by a spark too faint to be called hope. I’m waiting. He climbed into the ship
and set a course for New Namek.
***
Two months later.
He stood in front of Porunga, panting and trembling,
seven shining Dragonballs laid
out between them. He’d eaten less than he should, slept little, and trained
hardly at all since leaving Earth. He had spent all of himself on this.
“I wish. I wish
Kakarott was alive, and here with me.”
Porunga rumbled. “His body was utterly destroyed; I cannot
retrieve it.”
“Damn you! Can’t you build him a new one from
scratch?”
“Yes. Your
wishes, then, are a new body for Kakarott, and for him to be returned to life
in it.”
“Yes! Just do
it!”
Porunga snorted. A blur of energy, and suddenly he was
there, sleeping, naked as the day he was born. “He will sleep for a few hours
as his soul integrates with this body. Simply place him in a bed until he
wakes. Do you have a third wish?”
“No.”
“Then farewell, Saiyan.” The dragon disappeared, the Dragonballs
flew off, but he paid them no attention. Kakarott
… He crouched to pick the sleeping Saiyan up, but a
wave of scent stopped him in his tracks. That scent – had it really been only a year? Now, with that scent in his
nose and the skin under his fingers, he knew that he could not bear to be
parted from him again, no matter what he had to do. So this is defeat. He lifted Kakarott gently and carried him into
the ship, laid him on the bed he had prepared and drew the silken sheets over
him. He closed the hatch of the ship and locked down the bridge.
Then he returned
to the room where Kakarott was sleeping. He hated this most of all, but it was necessary.
He stripped off all his clothes and put them away, and took out a set of ki restraints. He dropped the keys for those and for the
ship in the box he’d brought for the purpose, and sealed it with a thread of ki. He locked the shackles on his own wrists, behind his
back. And then he knelt down on the bare floor, and waited.
***
Goku drifted idly up from sleep. This was different from
the other revivals he’d gone through; they must have had some trouble
rebuilding his body. It was a nice way to come back, though, lying in a warm
bed. Were those silk sheets? Which of my
friends would bother with silk sheets for me? His sense of his own ki was still incomplete, so he couldn’t tell who was around
him. Smells like spaceship cabin … hey,
new tail! Yeah, that’s silk …he mumbled and opened his eyes.
What he saw was
the person he most wanted, and least expected to see. Especially kneeling naked
on the floor with his hands apparently bound behind him. “Vegeta?”
“Are you
satisfied, Kakarott?” the other Saiyan growled. “You’ve
won. This is what you’ve brought me to. Here I am, powerless before you. I’ve
used up all my resources, I’ve worked to exhaustion to
bring you back. I … I couldn’t go on without you,” he finished in a resigned
mutter.
“Vegeta.” Goku pushed aside the
bedding and stood up, then pulled the Saiyan prince
to his feet and embraced him. “Shhh. I forgive you.”
Vegeta trembled against him with more than cold; his empathy was coming back to
him, and he could feel the waves of conflicting emotions rolling off him. “You’re
freezing. How long were you kneeling there?”
“I don’t know. Hours.”
In ki restraints,
too, and he knew how much Vegeta hated that. “Why?”
“The alternative
was worse.” The despair in his voice, and the wave of both fear and self-loathing
that came with it, hit Goku right in the gut. What
was Vegeta thinking? Did he expect Goku to torture
him in turn? And … alternative? Rejection?
Goku raised his ki a little and
held the other close to warm him. He looked around for the key to the
restraints, and spotted the box on the shelf fastened with a ki thread. Inside were that key and the key to the ship, as
well as … he lifted out a long, furry object. A tail. By the smell under the tanning agents, Vegeta’s tail. He
looked down at the other Saiyan, stunned.
“Don’t you get
it? I was beaten. I was beaten, but
I’m alive. I want to go on living. No
one told me how to deal with this.”
“I understand.”
And Goku did.
The concepts of
mercy and forgiveness did not exist in Vegeta’s world; the only relationship he
could imagine was subjugation, one way or the other. He had chosen this. And that made him, in his
own mind, trash. Not even fit to wear a tail.
“I understand.
And I disagree. It’s not about winning and losing, Vegeta.” He tilted the
smaller Saiyan’s head back and kissed him gently.
Vegeta looked confused (and, dare he say it, damn cute because of it), but the
grime of self-hatred on his ki faded, just slightly. Goku wanted to haul him back to the silk-sheeted bed and
make love to him until he howled, but that would be too much, too soon. He
unlocked the ki restraints.
“You … would
release me?”
“Are you going to
hit me?”
“No. I cannot
fight you.”
“So.” Goku set the restraints in
the box and closed it again. They needed to talk, and he was hungry. “Did you
bring any food?”
“Of course I
did!” Better – there was a hint of his old spirit there. Vegeta pulled a
capsule from a drawer full of them and opened it to reveal a large and hearty
lunch. Goku sat at the little ship table and waved
Vegeta into the seat across from him.
“You eat
something too, you look awful.” Goku glared at him
until he picked out some sausage and cheese and started chewing. “What I did … I
did that partly out of hurt, and partly out of spite …
show you what it’s really like to have me gone. But also I knew that if you
truly wanted me, you would come after me. Call me back. I wasn’t expecting the
reception I got, though.”
“It had to be one
or the other…didn’t it?” Vegeta was even more confused now, but not angry as Goku expected. Not defensive. He expected degradation and
feared it, but he could not muster the will to protest it. And thus he believed
himself weak, and hated himself; believed that the weak deserved such treatment.
Believed that the strong deserved luxury, provided his torturer with silk sheets
and his favorite foods, and hated himself for that as
well. Beaten, he said … Goku would have to show him that suffering was not his
inevitable destiny. Start small. He
saved back some fruit as he finished his meal.
“Come here,
Vegeta.” The elder Saiyan stepped around the table,
and Goku pulled him into his lap. “Open your mouth.”
Vegeta was tight with apprehension, but obeyed. Whatever he was expecting, it
was certainly not what he got, which was a grape laid
on his tongue. He swallowed convulsively, and looked up at him; Goku just pressed another grape to his lips. This time he
reached out with his tongue to take it. He relaxed only slightly, and Goku knew he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. He
took another bunch of grapes and pressed it into Vegeta’s hand. “Here, you try
it.”
Vegeta obediently pulled off a grape and
held it up. Goku leaned forward, wrapped his lips
around it and curled his tongue around Vegeta’s fingers as he took it. The
taste of the man – the smell … he rumbled with delight. A smirk flashed across
Vegeta’s face at the sound. Good, good.
Goku smiled, and fed him another grape. They worked
through the whole bunch that way; Vegeta relaxed fractionally with each one. It
felt like he was trying to lure a wild animal to his hand. At long last Goku bent down and kissed him on the lips, lightly,
although he wanted to grab him by the hair and suck the breath out of him. Gently.
Next he set
Vegeta on his feet and turned him towards the sleeping cabin. This passivity was
most unlike his prince, but he could work on that later; right now much more
serious issues needed attention. Namely, as soon as Vegeta realized where they
were going, the grimy cloak of despair dropped over his emotions again.
“I brought
everything. In case you want to …”
“No.” They
reached the bunk and Goku tumbled them onto the silk
sheets, landing on his back with Vegeta on top of him between his spread
thighs.
“Kakarott, what – ”
“I’m showing you
how things are going to be.”
***
Vegeta stared
down at his captor, perplexed. What was Kakarott thinking? Why wouldn’t he take
the privileges of his victory? Didn’t he know what Vegeta was offering him?
Annoyed, he snarled, “I have no idea what you want me to do, Kakarott.”
“I feel sorry for
Bulma, then.”
“Not that, dumbass!” The insult spilled out without his thinking about
it and he almost cringed, but the sunny grin on Kakarott’s
face stopped him.
“Now there’s the
Vegeta I fell in love with. I don’t want a slave or a master, Vegeta, I just
want you. And trust me, sullen and
depressed is not your best look.”
Something
changed. He could feel it, like being dunked in a cold mountain stream. Perhaps
it was some instinct, some subtle smell or gesture that convinced him that
Kakarott was telling the truth. Perhaps it was just a reminder of what he
already knew Kakarott was like. But there was a change; though he didn’t
understand, he could accept that Kakarott did not intend him to suffer for his
weakness. And, just maybe, that backtalk would be allowed.
“You didn’t
answer my question, Kakarott.”
The other Saiyan’s grin turned wicked. “I’ve missed having your cock
inside me, Vegeta. And I believe you owe me an orgasm or two.”
“Hn. I guess so.” He leaned down to press his lips to Kakarott’s, breathe in the scent that held him captive,
taste that sweet skin. Kakarott’s sable tail came up
to caress his hips, and those powerful fingers dug into his shoulders. Kami … he had never been touched like that. Kakarott had
been chained, of course, and with Bulma or his
earlier partners he had never been anything but dominant. He had never been … equal in bed. Kakarott’s
tongue tangled with his own as hands roamed over his ribs; he found the other’s
nipples and rolled them in his fingers, and heard Kakarott groan in response. Mmmmm. Those long fingers trailed up his thigh and squeezed his
ass, and he gave a purr of his own.
He drew back for
breath. Kakarott looked up at him with eyes glowing in pleasure; their cocks
brushed together as he moved, and he rocked his hips into the contact. Kakarott’s fingers found his tail mark and stroked it,
making him shiver. That scent lured him again. He bent down to lick the sweat
from Kakarott’s chest; yes, he would bring him off,
but first he would use every trick of pleasure he knew on him. First, because he did have a lot to make up for, and second,
because Kakarott had cast aspersions on his sexual prowess. He couldn’t
let a thing like that pass, even – especially – from the man that had defeated
him.
Lips sucked on
nipples, teeth nibbled skin. Fingers traced the lines of muscles. And Kakarott returned
his treatment in spades; that silky tail wandered everywhere over his body,
leaving goosebumps in its wake. One broad hand cupped
his ass while the other stroked his flanks. Roars and groans from both their
throats filled his ears. And he ached, he throbbed, he burned with it. He could
hold back his need no longer. “Lube. Shelf,” he
growled into Kakarott’s chest.
The answer was a
cool slickness smeared straight on his cock. He yelped and bit Kakarott’s shoulder harder than he intended, drawing blood.
The taste inflamed him beyond the point of reason; he grabbed Kakarott’s knees for leverage and thrust into him. Kami, he had missed this. Craved this.
An addiction that he could not shake, nor desired to.
The other Saiyan ground back against his thrusts and
he needed all of his willpower not to spill his seed immediately. He wrapped a
hand around Kakarott’s shaft and stroked – once,
twice, and he howled as the hot fluid poured out of him. The tensing of his
inner muscles was too much for Vegeta, who screamed as his senses exploded
around him. And then his vision went dark.
He woke to find
the room darkened. He was still lying in the silk-covered bed; Kakarott was
beside him, fast asleep, with one arm curled over his waist. The blanket was
drawn over them, and he could feel his captor’s – no, his lover’s tail around
his ankle. Pleasure. Trust.
He should have guessed that Kakarott would see the situation differently than
he did. He looked up at the headboard, where Kakarott had laid out his severed
tail. Kakarott would keep it and display it, he knew, not out of derision but
of respect for his gift … although the logic behind that attitude eluded him. He
still didn’t understand the other Saiyan’s mind. Well, he would learn; he had chosen this
course and he would see it through. Whatever it takes. Even if it meant having his whole
worldview turned upside down and stirred. He had been prepared to endure
torture and humiliation, and while a corner of his mind still insisted that he
should, he could not honestly deny that this was better. So this is defeat. Who knew?
***
Here endeth the Responses to
Desecration. (well, aside from some future PWP add-ons
to “Alternate.”) I think if this series of stories proves one thing, it’s that
I am incapable of writing darkfics. I tried, really I
did. But they all come out warm fuzzies in the end.
Posting notes: This is the end of One Shots Month. Bi-weekly
updates of Enough Time will continue. I have some minor edits to do on the Pure
Evil series (repost in two weeks), and then a new project to come exactly four
weeks from now. As mentioned I will be adding chapters to “Alternate”, and possibly
“Feral” and “The Frog Prince”, but they’re not on my timesheet right now.
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