Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ A tiny twist in time ❯ Uncertain Advances ( Chapter 13 )

        They’d finally arrived at Namek, apparently before Frieza. Goku was the first one off the ship, his ki trail gone from the sky before Turles made it to the hatch. The older Saiyan just shrugged and set about giving the usual orders, with a few extras since they were expecting Frieza eventually, and because his fuckin’ mate was a pacifist, of all things.         He knew perfectly well the other Saiyan had gone off to have a good cry. Kakarot was overly emotional for a Saiyan, but having finally learned his mate’s past, Turles was trying to be understanding. Not that he succeeded all that well, but he did try. Even if he didn’t regret in the least having planted that tree, since those fools had deserved their fate. Making a pacifist out of a warrior! The idea!         Besides, he and his mate had reaped the benefits of the fruit. Frieza wouldn’t stand a chance against them.         “Lord Turles! Lord Turles! We’ve had news on Frieza, sir!”         “Well?”         “He’s dead, sir.”         Turles turned slowly to face his com officer. “Frieza? Dead? How?”         “I’m not sure, sir.” The man examined the printout he held. “Ah, here. He was assassinated. His second in command, that Zarbon, has taken over and is dealing with the assassin.”         “And who killed him?”         A hint of a smirk. “You should be pleased, sir. It appears that Brolli killed him.”         “Brolli?”         “Yes sir!”         “Dismissed.” The man darted off, leaving Turles to muse over the new information.           “I suppose those wishes seem selfish,” Goku concluded quietly, “but that’s all I really want to wish for. May I please use your dragonballs?”         “For a king to wish for wisdom and understanding is not selfish,” the old Namek replied. “Nor is it selfish for a man to wish to be a good mate.”         Goku waited quietly, his posture entirely dejected. He honestly didn’t know if it would help to be able to understand his ex-wife, his mate, or the race he’d grown up apart from, but if the Nameks were willing, he would still make the attempt. He didn’t need strength, or power. He was strong enough. He was just tired of being stupid, and not understanding anything. If he were allowed to wish himself smart, maybe things would be better.         “Very well, Goku. I will have the dragonballs assembled for you.”         “Thank you. Should I wait here?”         “If you wish.”         Well, he didn’t really wish to stay, but he didn’t want to go back to Turles just yet. Besides, he needed to work out the best wording for his wish. “I’ll stay, if I won’t be a bother?”         “Certainly. Would you like something to eat?”         “No,” came without thought, and “thank you,” because he remembered he was supposed to be polite. He moved himself to an out of the way corner and settled into it. How should he phrase his wish? As a king? As a mate? Or just ask to be smart? But, did smart mean the same thing as wisdom and understanding? ‘Cause, Bulma was smart, but she didn’t understand him at all. And no one with a mind would call her wise. So… oh, he was giving himself a headache!           Turles looked up as the sky darkened. A storm? No, not a storm. Even without his scouter’s sudden frantic beeping, he could feel the power that had changed the sky so drastically. Something incredibly strong, and – dammit! His mate was most likely in trouble. Snarling, Turles launched himself skyward and headed for the source of the power spike.         “Hi, Turles.”         “Kakarot. What happened?” The sky had lightened as suddenly as it had darkened, within moments of his taking off. He’d continued on to find what was left of his mate, and to yell at him if he’d survived. Once he figured out what had happened, that was.         “I asked the Nameks if I could call the dragon.” Kakarot shrugged. “They said okay, so I called him and made my wish.”         “You did what?”         “I’ll be okay in a minute or two. I just have to get used to it, is all.”         “Kakarot, what did you wish for?” he snarled.         Kakarot smiled at him, albeit it was a smile that barely touched his lips and didn’t reach his eyes. “To be better.”         Turles stared at him. “Better?” he asked finally, when no more information was forthcoming, “Better how?”         Kakarot dropped, sitting at his feet. His head tipped back, spikes swaying, Kakarot just looking up at him. Then his fool of a mate let himself fall backwards, hitting hard enough to bounce his head. Twice. Turles sneered. “Better how, Kakarot?”         Newly-wished understanding took over. Goku stretched provocatively before running his hands to the top of his pants. Turles’ eyes tracked them as he tugged his shirt loose and slowly wriggled free of it. He balled the shirt and tossed it aside. Goku’s smile softened, became fuller, as he half-lidded his eyes. Fingers traced over his stomach to the waistband of his pants, and a little shimmy slid them down enough that Turles’ attention was entirely on his hands. “Does it matter?” he purred huskily, sliding the pants a little lower.         “Yes.” Turles wrenched his eyes from the bulge his mate was trailing his fingertips over to look at his face. Which didn’t help, because Kakarot was looking up at him through half-slitted eyes, tongue tracing over his lips, a soft breathy moan accompanying the slight roll of his head and the diverting arching of his hips as his mate pushed his pants down lower to reveal the head of his cock. “Maybe not.”         Turles settled next to his mate’s waist, one hand resting on the ground at his opposite hip. He eased the waistband down a bit more with his free hand, until his mate was fully free of the confining clothes. He trailed his fingers lazily over the filling cock as Kakarot continued to shimmy his way out of his pants; and laughed at his mate’s frustration when he couldn’t get them over his boots. “Leave them, Kakarot.”         Kakarot arched under his hand, his own hands rubbing over his chest and throat. Turles watched the uncharacteristically wanton display. He was enjoying the show, but the longer it went on, the more unlike his mate he realized it was. Still. He bent, licking over the exposed chest until he came to a peaked nub. He paused to lick lazy circles before biting sharply. Kakarot gasped and arched, hands reaching to grab and hold Turles to his chest.         Turles growled at him, twisting the nub in his teeth. Kakarot yelped, and yelped again when he tried to push Turles away while still being bitten. He wised up and let go of the older Saiyan’s hair, instead stroking his fingers over the other’s shoulders. Turles released the nub and licked to the other one. This time, Kakarot didn’t grab at him. Instead, the younger whined needily as his hands tugged at Turles’ uniform.         Turles sat back, stroking roughly over his mate’s cock. Kakarot continued to whine, alternating with scattered purrs, as he thrust against Turles’ hand.  The younger Saiyan’s skin was flushed, a bruise already forming around the abused nipple. Turles focused on that, noting how his mate soon moved one hand to pluck at the wounded nub. The other slid down his stomach to rest lightly on Turles’ groin.         Kakarot never did that. Ever. His chest, yes. His arms, shoulders, his back? Yes. He’d twine their legs, but he never ever voluntarily touched Turles there. Dark eyes narrowed, the darker Saiyan suddenly taking a painfully tight grip on his mate. “Kakarot,” he purred, “tell me what you wished for.”         It was disconcerting, how suddenly and completely his mate went from lusty eroticism to the nearly empty shell he’d been for most of the trip. Kakarot’s eyes were closed now, his head turned away. His hands were limp at his sides, cock flaccid, and his body seemingly lifeless. Except for his skin, which was still flushed, but the scent said it wasn’t lust. His mate was… ashamed?           He’d known, as soon as Porunga had granted his wish, that he’d been stupid to make it. He should have wished not to be stupid, after all. “Kakarot, answer me.”         “I just wished to be better. A better Saiyan king, a better mate, that’s all,” he said softly, when Turles began growling. “I wanted to understand what I was doing wrong all the time, I wanted to be good enough. Better.”         Better wasn’t good enough, of course. He heard Turles’ curse through his own haze of self-recrimination, felt the motion as his mate turned him and spread him. He had just enough presence of mind to brace himself for the penetration that followed, and to force himself back so that his mate could take him deeply, thoroughly.         He hadn’t really liked having sex with Chi-Chi. There had always been something missing, something he’d never been quite sure about. He had it with Turles, though, that elusive thing he still didn’t have a name for, but could now recognize. He twined his tail around Turles’, and stroked.         Turles’ growling became purring, his viciously savage shoves easing into a more pleasurable thrusting.         “More. Please?” Goku threw his head back, dropping to his forearms. Turles would ride him hard: he always did. He let his tail do what it would, alternately lashing at and stroking his mate’s chest and back. Turles’ purring became panting growls, his hands locking on Goku’s hips and pulling him closer with each thrust.         The strange new part of his mind took notes on what Turles liked and didn’t like as he spread himself as well as his tangled legs would allow and arced backwards as much as he could. He purred and whined, begged, but never growled or demanded. He’d learned before his wish that Turles was the only one allowed to growl, and demands would be met with more pain than pleasure. Goku whimpered eagerly as Turles bent over him, one arm going around his waist, hand catching and fondling his cock.         Turles bit at his neck; Goku angled his head to allow him more access. He purred brokenly as Turles broke his skin and lapped at his blood, whined when the older Saiyan slowed and eased his rhythm to a level of gentleness that Goku had never felt from him before.         “Mine,” the older man growled at him.         “Yes,” Goku agreed immediately, relaxing and submitting to his mate. Turles bit him again, and then sat up. He pulled Goku up against him, the hand on his hip directing Goku to keep moving as the other hand pulled his face around for a kiss. Goku moaned into it, his hands moving to his neglected cock. Turles didn’t stop him when he began masturbating, instead breaking the kiss to bite his neck once more.         Goku held himself off, riding his mate with an eager frenzy Chi-Chi had never inspired. He milked Turles’ orgasm until his mate slipped from his body as he rose. Turles pushed him to his knees, moving from behind to beside him. Goku looked over, saw where his mate was focused, and sat back up. He spread his legs wider, stroking himself for Turles’ pleasure. He threw his head back, gasping, when he began fingering himself as well.         Turles shifted for a better view, so Goku put everything he had into his display. His tail twined and snaked over his body, teasing sensitive nipples and his dripping cock, circling but never entering his finger-filled anus. He twisted and pushed, trying to reach that spot that Turles always did, even as his stroking hand sped up. He whined and writhed under his ministrations, release imminent, but waiting. Waiting for the quietly spoken, “Come for me,” that whispered from his mate so many minutes later.         Goku came with a shrill, shuddering cry. He stiffened, almost fighting against his release as it ripped through him, collapsing in a shuddering heap as it passed. He pulled his fingers free, sending another wave of bliss rippling through his nerves. Goku gasped, shallow little pants that didn’t give him enough air, but were all that he could manage. The world seemed grey around him, misty, almost as if it had grown foggy while he had been fucking. The scent of spent sex was strong in his nose, almost masking the other, far fainter scent he gave off.         “Brolli killed Frieza. Zarbon took over, and he’s dealing with Brolli.”           Turles grinned lazily as his exhausted mate snapped his head up, sex-glazed eyes filmy and confused. “Huh?”         “I said: Brolli killed Frieza. Zarbon took over. He’s the one meting out whatever punishment Brolli is getting for having killed Frieza.”         Dark eyes blinked furiously, spikes swaying as Kakarot shook his head in apparent hopes of clearing it. “I thought you said Brolli was Zarbon’s sex slave? How did he get close enough to Frieza to kill him? Wait, if Zarbon let him go to Frieza, how do we know he didn’t order Brolli to kill him? He may not be getting punished at all, but rewarded instead.”         Full lips pursed, dark eyes narrowed. “That would be most likely, especially if Zarbon wasn’t pleased at being told to share. Zarbon gets rid of his biggest rival, takes over due to his position in Frieza’s army, and gets to keep Brolli out of the public eye under the guise of punishing him.”         “When did you get so clever?”         “I made a wish to be a good Saiyan king, remember? What good is a king who can’t analyze enemies – or potential allies?” Kakarot twisted, getting his feet in front of him. He pulled up his pants, standing as he got them past his knees. “I wonder which Zarbon will be?”         “Enemy.”         “I don’t have enough information to confirm that.” There was a different tone in his mate’s voice. “You will ensure that I get it, Turles. I need everything you can find on Zarbon.”         Casual command, the tone of a king. Turles scrambled to his knees, saluting. “At once, my king. I’ll have all the files I have on hand delivered to your room?”         “Our room?” The question was hesitant, the kingly tone gone.         Turles stood, and smoothed his uniform pants into place. “Our room, King Kakarot.”         Kakarot smiled at him. “Thank you, Turles. I promise I’ll be a good mate now.”         Turles chuckled. “Come on. Back to the ship.”           Goku followed him. He had what he needed now, to be a good king and a good mate. He just hoped the wish he’d made didn’t backfire on him. Goku really wasn’t a very Saiyan name. It was his past, and while he wouldn’t forget his past, it was time to begin his future. Kakarot hurried to catch up to his mate.