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Warnings: basically PWP, yaoi lemon, VxG, solid R rating
Disclaimer: I do not own either Dragonball Z or any characters therein. No profit is intended from this fic. Plus, the basis for this fic belongs to Xero Sky! I just...tweaked a little. Fleshed it out, you could say.... *wink*
Summary: This is a lemony little one-shot based on a scene from Xero Sky's wonderful Trinity fic, which I suggest everyone in the universe read. Vegeta has a very secret, very citrusy fantasy about Kakarot, and I couldn't help but see it through.
A gift. What the hell does he think I am? A child to be coddled?
Vegeta no Ouji grumbled as he strode down the hallway, his hard footfalls echoing off the stone. His father had purchased him a birth anniversary present, then had done the unthinkable--sent the Ouji to his room. Of course, the gift was in his room, but that hardly banished the sting of being so summarily dismissed.
The old fool. If he thinks I'll casually bide my time until he dies of old age, he has another thing coming. Especially if he continues this ridiculous charade.
He so looked forward to breaking whatever stupid toy his father had seen fit to plague him with.
Pausing before his door, he took a deep breath to put a moderate rein on his temper. It wouldn't do to destroy all his furnishings in what his father would portray as a temper tantrum. He'd never live it down, and a moment's satisfaction for breaking something expensive simply wasn't worth the hours'-long talking-to that would result.
With another deep breath, he shoved through the door and froze.
What madness is this?
A person...no, a boy knelt on his floor. At least, he assumed it was a boy. The shock of spiky, black hair was short enough to give him that impression, as did the blatantly exposed expanse of smoothly muscled chest and the corded arms and thighs. Any features of the boy's face were hidden by a fringe of bangs and the respectfully lowered head.
There must be some mistake....
"What the hell are you doing here?"
His voice was harsh with shock and suspicion, and the boy flinched, shifting ever so slightly in his kneeling position, his hands clenching his knees.
"Well?"
"I was t-told to stay here and wait for m-my...new master, sire."
Eyes narrowing, Vegeta crossed his arms. "And who is your new master?"
"Th-the Saiya-jin n-no Ouji, sire."
The boy's nervousness set Vegeta's teeth on edge. Of course, his immediate discomfort could also be in response to his flash of disgust and sheer rage.
How dare he--
"And just what is your purpose to your master, the Saiya-jin no Ouji?"
The boy shivered, his fingers digging into his knees and his voice shaking as he tried to answer. "P-p-pleasure s-slave, sire."
"Bastard!"
His roar nearly sent the boy scuttling across the floor in terror, but he apparently remembered his place before he could truly retreat. The shivering turned into nearly convulsive shudders, breath sobbing in and out of his lungs as he visibly fought to hold his position.
Despite his flare of ire, Vegeta was mildly impressed. He'd sent trained, seasoned soldiers scattering with his temper before, yet this mere boy, obviously terrified, hadn't fled, hadn't given in to his fear.
As he calmed, he pondered the situation, wondering how to get his father back for this disgrace. As if the Saiya-jin no Ouji needed a...a concubine! A male one, at that! Plus, this boy was barely more than a child, if his behavior and build were any indication.
Sighing, he reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose, wondering what the hell to do with this...gift.
"How old are you, boy?"
"N-nineteen, sire."
"Are you sure? You look younger."
The boy gave a slight shrug, not lifting his head or shifting from his kneeling position. "That's what they tell me, sire."
"Who are 'they'?"
He trembled, so slightly Vegeta would have missed it if he hadn't been watching so carefully. "My...former owners, sire."
"In other words, you don't know."
"No, sire. I don't know."
Judging from the definition of muscle and the boy's presumed height, Vegeta judged him to be of age for sale, but just barely. Likely just over seventeen, possibly eighteen, rather than the nineteen he'd claimed.
"What did you do for your prior owners?"
The boy relaxed slightly. "Farm work, sire. Taking care of animals, heavy lifting."
"No pleasure work?"
The trembling returned, and Vegeta had no doubt his dolt of a father had bought a virgin. What a fool.
What the hell was he thinking? I'd almost rather he'd bought me the toys and trinkets I expected! At least I could have broken them and left the pieces on his throne! What am I supposed to do with this...this child?
Oh, but the boy wasn't a child, was he? In fact, now that his ire had settled, he realized his father had actually chosen fairly well, if a little too early. Though Vegeta had yet to take a male to his bed, the boy had a leanly muscled form that was...pleasing, if not the feminine curves he normally favored.
He studied the flex and release of the long thighs, the glide of firm sinew in the arms and chest, the honey glow of the lightly oiled skin. The boy wore only a brief gold cloth around his waist--tied on one side so his left leg was bare to his hip bone--a braided gold band around the left thigh, and another gold band around his left bicep.
Suddenly curious as to how his father had...purchased the boy, Vegeta stalked around the kneeling figure, pausing as he saw the three gold rings along the fine, thick, glossy black length of tail and the tattoo on the boy's back, just above said tail.
His symbol. The Ouji's crest.
The boy was his...and had been no one else's.
Surprising, unexpected heat flared in his stomach at the sight of the intricate design on that honey-tan skin. Perhaps his father was not so much the fool after all. Perhaps the Ouji should accept this...gift.
A purr rumbled in his chest as he stepped closer to the boy, wanting to touch that perfect skin. His eyes suddenly narrowed, and he hissed and recoiled just before his fingers touched, his purr becoming a fierce growl.
"Who has beaten you, boy?"
The rage in his voice set the baka youth to trembling again, and Vegeta forced himself to calm down, moving to squat in front of his new possession. Cupping the somewhat sharp chin, he raised the boy's face to his own, amused as those dark eyes tried to avoid his gaze.
"I asked you a question. I expect an answer."
"M-my former owners, sire." He trembled, keeping his eyes downcast, though the extreme angle surely gave him a headache. "I-I dropped a bag of feed and wasted it."
Releasing the boy's chin, though he suddenly wanted to study that handsome, almost sweet face from a much closer vantage, Vegeta again moved behind him, this time kneeling at his back. The wounds had faded to pale, white lines, but they had likely been fierce when created. It took a lot to scar a Saiya-jin. With gentle fingers, the Ouji traced the ladder of scars, moving from one to the next as the boy shivered and his tail twitched in agitation.
"Would you like me to retaliate, boy? I could have them put to death for daring to touch the Ouji's concubine."
"N-no, sire! It...it's in the past. They don't hurt now."
"Why protect your former owners, boy?" His fingers lowered to trace his crest, and the boy's shivering doubled until his teeth nearly chattered. "What are they to you?"
"Th-they d-d-didn't know better...sire."
"You have just spared their lives, boy. I give their continued existence to you as a gift this night. A gift...to my pleasure slave, my concubine. Do you accept?"
The boy hesitated, then nodded, his head lowering further, as if in defeat. Vegeta knew he understood what had just passed between them. The boy was truly his possession, now. His slave. His.
Mine.
"What is your name, boy?"
"Kakarot, sire."
His voice was a bare whisper, and the softly broken sound tugged at Vegeta's heart. He wondered for a moment if this boy had had dreams, aspirations, if he had wanted more for himself than being a whore, even to the Saiya-jin no Ouji.
So young to be sold into servitude....
Sighing, Vegeta stood and moved to his bed, sitting at the foot and leaning back on his hands. He shouldn't feel sorry for the boy. His fate could be much worse. At least Vegeta wasn't cruel and did not relish inflicting unnecessary pain. He would take precious care of his concubine and treat him well.
Yes, it could be worse.
"You may attempt to pleasure me, boy."
The broad shoulders hunched as if warding off a blow, but the boy obediently turned and crept forward on hands and knees, slipping between the Ouji's legs.
"Thank you, sire." A sigh as trembling hands settled on Vegeta's thighs, feather-light. "I live only to serve you."
The words and hesitant touch sent a shock of awareness directly to the Ouji's groin, tightening it and nearly dragging a groan from his throat. This boy, this slave was his. He would very shortly touch and learn that honey skin, would stroke that fine, thick tail, would plunge into untried heat and claim the lithe, strong body as his own.
Strong fingers eased under Vegeta's armor, lifting until the Ouji obligingly raised his arms to extricate himself. His black training gear went next, the boy removing the clothing with surprising efficiency. Perhaps his concubine was not so innocent, after all.
"Do you have...experience, boy?"
Though the handsome face remained respectfully--perhaps fearfully--lowered, Vegeta easily made out the flush across the boy's cheeks as he nervously cleared his throat.
"I have...been with a girl before, sire. I assume it is much the same, though my...role is reversed."
Not a complete virgin, then. But I will still be the first to possess him....
The hands that settled on his thighs seemed a bit more steady now, and Vegeta allowed himself to react to their gentle stroking, allowed those hands to part his legs a little further to allow the boy room to work.
A light, almost curious touch to his arousal brought a hiss from between his teeth, and the boy flicked his gaze up, meeting the Ouji's eyes for a heart-stopping moment. Blanching slightly at the perceived breach of etiquette, the boy dropped his gaze to his hands, then touched Vegeta again with more confidence. Light fingers traced along his length, mapping the contours, the twisting vein on the underside, and the sensitive ridge of the head until Vegeta almost couldn't breathe.
This innocent seduction would be the death of him, he was sure.
More confident still, the boy leaned forward and flicked out his tongue, delivering an almost catlike lick that sent a flare of heat to swell the Ouji's erection even more. Vegeta let his head roll back on his shoulders, leaning heavily on his hands behind him as the boy began his exploration in earnest.
What he lacked in experience, he made up for in curiosity and inventiveness. All too soon, Vegeta couldn't contain a purring groan as lips and teeth and tongue tormented him. As if his vocalization were some sort of signal, the boy's hands joined the torture, one fisting the base while the other tickled along the sensitive skin of his thigh and groin.
And then that tormenting, hot mouth swallowed him whole.
His teeth grit against a howl, Vegeta thrust up into that warmth, nearly choking the boy. Strong hands settled on his hips, holding him down, and he writhed as that hot throat swallowed around his length.
Oh, gods!
He almost shouted it, almost shouted his need, his pleasure to the world. This mere strip of a boy, an admitted innocent, had turned the Saiya-jin no Ouji into a writhing, groaning, whimpering mass of lust, and if he didn't let up his torment soon, Vegeta would likely release hard enough to drown the poor baka.
Sitting forward and fisting his hands in the dark, velvety spikes, he pulled the boy away, growling as that sweet, hot mouth slowly, reluctantly released him.
"Please, sire...please let me pleasure you...."
A shudder twisted through him at the current of arousal in that soft, pleading voice. By the gods, the beautiful little baka was getting off on Vegeta's own heat, begging to continue paying such precious homage to his Ouji....
Smirking down at the flushed face and lust-clouded eyes, he leaned down and kissed the boy, thrusting his tongue inside to taste the sweetness that had devoured him. The boy groaned, his tail whipping up to wrap around Vegeta's thigh. A shock of cold made Vegeta flinch, and he gasped away from his kiss to glare in frustration at the gold rings on the boy's tail.
They had to go. In fact, everything had to go.
Another wet, obscene kiss, and he eased the boy to his feet, hands stroking away the strip of gold cloth, the bands around bicep and thigh, and the first of the three rings on the glossy black tail. The second ring was a little tighter, though, and the boy gasped into the kiss, bucking against him as Vegeta's careful hands eased the ring through the lush fur.
The Ouji groaned as the boy's erection ground against his own. Gods, but his new concubine was well-endowed and hard as rock, his arousal twitching with every stroke along his glossy, thick tail.
"Please, sire...."
Purring and tightening his arm's grip around the narrow waist as the boy's knees buckled, Vegeta added another totally unnecessary stroke, only moving the stubborn ring a few inches.
"Please what, boy?"
Whimpering, the boy pressed his face into the Ouji's neck, licking and mouthing the skin there, his movements desperate and pleading. "Please, get it off.... It...it aches...."
A feral smirk quirked Vegeta's lips as he obligingly slid the second ring free of the lashing, thrashing tail. The boy whimpered again, this time with relief, then cried out as Vegeta nudged the third ring down a few inches. This final ring was the tightest of the three, and the Ouji intended to drive his new concubine out of his mind removing it.
"Ouji-sama, boy," he whispered, panting against the writhing, gasping boy's ear. "I want to hear it from your lips."
"H-hai, Ouj-ahhh...Ouji-sama! Please!"
The boy's hips bucked again as Vegeta slid the ring a few inches further, the fur fluffing with the sensation and further miring its sinuous progress. The boy cried out desperately, and the Ouji sealed his mouth over that cry, swallowing it down, tasting it with his tongue.
The whores in his father's harem weren't half as responsive as this irresistible little armful. Kakarot. Vegeta had never known someone so sensitive to touch, so easy to please. The pleading cries, the gasps and whimpers of desperate pleasure, the clutching hands that sought to return some of that pleasure--they all fired Vegeta's easy lust, and he deliberately slid the tail ring just that much further along the luxurious fur.
Turning, he pressed the boy back against the bed, settling his weight between silken, oiled thighs and groaning at the pressure in his groin. The boy lifted his hips, grinding that rather impressive erection against the Ouji's stomach. Greatly daring in the extremity of his need, he slapped the tip of his tail against Vegeta's cheek, leaving a mouth-watering trail of spicy-sweet musk that fired the Ouji's blood.
"Keep that up, boy, and I won't be patient enough to be gentle."
Groaning and purring, the boy repeated the gesture, then wrapped his tail around Vegeta's arm, tugging desperately. "Please, si--" He cut off, purring again as the Ouji thrust against his groin. "Please, Ouji-sama! I don't care! Please let me pleasure you!"
Gods, he's begging to be taken! Where in the gods' names did Father find you, Kakarot?
A growl ripped from his throat, and he lunged forward, attacking the boy's neck and chest with teeth and tongue. A tiny taste of rich, coppery blood sent delicious shudders down his spine directly to his groin. The boy's tail gripped his arm until his fingers numbed. The Ouji's own tail lashed wildly in the air behind him, musking furiously until their scents mingled and swelled. Sweet cries and interrupted purrs drove him on until his erection ached, throbbing with the need to thrust into something, anything.
It was time. His delicious little concubine nearly sobbed with pleasure and need, and his own arousal burned for completion. It was time to claim his slave, to claim the little baka forever so that no one else ever dared to touch that honey skin, that lean-muscled perfection.
You are mine, Kakarot. Mine forever.
He thrust forward with a roar and the boy cried out, arching and twisting beneath him in obvious pain. Unable to stop now, he pulled back and thrust again, tilting the boy's hips to make his penetration a little easier to bear. The resulting cry was different--more surprised pleasure than pain. A strained smile quirked his mouth as he stared down at that handsome, flushed face, the dark eyes wide with shock as the Ouji thrust again.
The boy flung back his head and howled, lifting his knees to wrap his legs around Vegeta's waist.
"That's it, Kakarot. Sing for me."
Ruthlessly exploiting this new place he'd discovered, the Ouji pounded into his concubine, his blood catching fire in his veins until he felt as primal as Oozaru, as animal as his storied predecessors. He roared, thrusting with all his strength, ruthlessly pleasuring his concubine and viciously reaping the scalding, succulent rewards.
"Sing for me, Kakarot! Scream my name!"
The boy choked incoherently, bucking and twisting, writhing in exquisite torment, hands clutching the Ouji's shoulders with bruising strength.
"Beg me, Kakarot! I command it!"
"Hai! Pl-please...Ouji-sama! Please!"
"My name, Kakarot! Say it! Scream it!"
Howling, the boy shook his head, all too aware of his station even now. Vegeta, roaring with the strength and proximity of his impending release, reached down and fisted the thick erection rubbing against his stomach.
"Scream it, Kakarot! My name!"
The boy's back arched violently, his head snapping back. "Oh, gods, yes! Vegetaaaah!"
The almost violent climax clenched the boy's body, sending a shock of near-agony through the Ouji's groin and straight up his spine. Roaring, he threw back his head and...
* * *
...and came so hard he woke himself up, clamping a hand over his mouth to quiet his howl of release.
Shuddering with both exquisite passion and an undeniable horror at how close he'd come to roaring Kakarot's name in the night, Vegeta breathed in great, heaving gasps, his muscles twitching and singing with the force of his climax.
After long, beautifully torturous moments, his body relaxed by degrees, then went fully limp, heavy with lingering satisfaction.
Kakarot...that big, beautiful baka....
He shifted, then grimaced as the wet sheets clung to him, the warmth rapidly cooling. Another midnight laundry run. Sighing as he gave up on the pleasant lethargy his release had brought him, he climbed out of bed and tugged all the bedding into a wad, cleaning himself off before throwing the whole mess into the laundry chute and digging out a fresh set.
For a moment, he debated taking a shower, but he hated to loose the musky, hot scent of sex, even if it wasn't the spicy-sweet scent of Kakarot that he quietly admitted he wanted to smell. Laying back down, he allowed himself to remember that heady scent, the feel of solid muscle under his hands, to imagine the sweetness of that damnably irresistible mouth.
Only in the deepest, darkest hours of the night would he allow himself such thoughts. These were secret pleasures, things he rarely admitted to himself and never admitted to anyone else.
Secret thoughts, secret desires....
Closing his eyes, he felt a satisfied, sensuous smirk grace his lips.
One of these days, Kakarot.... One of these days, you will beg for me.
The smirk deepened, and the Saiya-jin no Ouji rolled over, burying his face in his pillow.
One of these days, you will be mine.
END
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