Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Bejiita - Unattached ❯ Part 2 Discovery ( Chapter 2 )

Rated: Strong R
Warnings: Yaoi, rather lemony, lil angsty, steamy. Enjoy ^^
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Just using the characters for my own amusement. So don't sue!

===

"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 that no 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.

===

Part 2

I fly home as the sun begins to set, signaling the end of the day, and the end of our weekly ritual. I made it a habit to train with Pikkoro every so often. I make sure my schedule is clear, before I sneak out for a few hours. Temporarily escaping work, to go train. Or rather, having Pikkoro beat me nearly unconscious, and bitch about how I've let myself go all these years. Bejiita san would always say the same.

An alarm goes off as I picture the cocky prince in my mind. This isn't the first time he's been in my thoughts. But something's... not right. I push my slightly dulled senses forward, feeling out his ki. Just to see if he's ok.

It takes longer than it should, but I do locate him. His ki... feels odd. Why is it so erratic? I fly to where he is... just to make sure everything's all right.

He's ...there! In a lush, grassy field, with the one tall oak tree. A field about midway between Capsule Corp and mom's house in Mt. Paouza. Didn't he and father train here? Where is dad anyway? I think I spot him under a tree, but I stop short when he lets out a shout. I've never heard his voice... quite hit that pitch before. Something about it pulled at me. Something made me move closer, but still kept me from approaching him directly.

I peer down at him from above the oak tree, and I stop breathing. Unable to blink, unable to look away, even if my life depended on it. I had caught him in the middle of something that should have been very private. I caught this usually unemotional man, being anything but.

I watch his surprisingly small hands pull with lightning strokes over his surprisingly large member. I swallow audibly. My eyes widen as he tosses his head back and shrieks. His lean hips bucking towards his hand.

"AAahh!! ..oh! OOH!!"

He turns over on his stomach, his perfectly rounded ass in the air. His pale skin is caressed gently by the sun's golden rays. That somehow makes his actions seem that much more shameful. His hand never breaks it's delight rhythm, over his hardened flesh. Yet this is no more shameful than me being compelled to watch it. My being aroused by it.

He's nearly sobbing now as he finds completion.

"oh... Uh...UHH...Kaka..rotto!!!"

My wanting my name on his lips, not my father's.

Even after he has finished, my heart is still thudding in my chest, my head's still pounding. My fingers are still clenched into fists so tight, my nails dig painfully into my palms. But I could care less.

I watch him whisper my father's name as tears trail down his cheeks. He lets out small choked sobs as he stands to pull his pants back on. But then he freezes suddenly.

Shit! He knows I'm here! He knows I saw... everything.

He looks up at me stoically, as if he hadn't just been crying. He continues pulling up his pants and buttoning the fly. He does it casually, as if nothing at all were wrong, peculiar, or out of place about this whole situation. He doesn't even bother cleaning up, or wiping the seed off his hand.

In an instant he's closed the distance between us until he's only a breath away. He stares me straight in the eye. The smell of sex pouring off him in waves. I fight to stop myself from leaning closer and capture the lips that uttered such delicious moans only a few moments before.

And he knows it.

I can see my reflection in his shining black eyes. Those of a saiyajin, with that strange inhuman gleam, and almost no iris to speak of. I could stare at them for hours. But I will never be granted that luxury.

"Like what you see... boy?" he asks. His slightly gravely voice, sounds much smoother than usual. He still insists on calling me boy, despite the fact that I'm nearly 30 now. Nothing like what I was when we first met.

I do not answer, but I don't need to. He looks down and sees that my pants are far too tight.

"So you do..." he coos, holding up his left hand. His fingers still covered with milky passion. I open my mouth, but no sound comes out. I'm not sure what I intended to say anyway.

He smirks.

"Sorry boy... it's your bastard father I want." He pauses, sneering and cocking his eyebrows. He brings his fingers towards my face. "Too bad... so sad.." he whispers as he trails one semen covered finger from just under my eye and down over my cheek. Mimicking the trail of dried tears under his own obsidian eyes.

My eyes are fixed on him again. Unable to say a word.

"Hn." Just like that, he's gone from my sight. All that's left, the only indicator that he was ever here, is his lingering scent in the air, a line of his seed on my face, and the memory of him, of this day, burned in my memory forever.

I shakily bring a hand to my face, where he touched me, where he left his 'mark.' I wipe the pearly, sticky, substance from my face and look at it. Somehow, even this seems strange, and alien, yet so familiar. Something about it screams: 'Bejiita.'

He is a presence in my life. He has been for some time, I didn't realize just how much. Until now. I roll his essence between my fingers before bringing them to my tongue. Licking away what's left of him.

All of it.

Every drop.

===

I rush into the house. Thankful that I run into no one on the way to the shower. I peel out of my clothes and immediately throw them in the wash, before stepping under the cold spray of water. So he saw. I suppose I should be worried that he knows my secret. He knows just how insane his beautiful, baffoon of a father has made me. Yet somehow, I wasn't even shocked when I found him spying on me. Or that he enjoyed what he saw. Or that he may have wanted to do more than watch.

| Maybe next time I should let him |

So the boy's finally growing up. He looks more and more like Kakarotto all the time.

I feel another pang in my heart at the name.

I feel tears prick my eyes again, and the beginnings of another erection. Again, thankful for the freezing cold water, I will away both away.

Damn that bastard.

I brace one outstretched arm against the cool tiles, letting my head hang down past my shoulder.

| Why can't I have him.. ? |

The tears come anyway.

===

I finally snap out of my slight daze and continue home. Videl will begin to worry. But that's just one of many concerns plaguing my thoughts.

I watched him, open mouthed in sort of silent fixation. It was a miracle I could even form coherent thought. But one managed to come to mind.

Who was he thinking of?

| Why do I care? |

He has Buruma right? Did they get into a fight? is she not 'enough' for him? Are his appetites that great?

I was even more taken aback when he sucked two of his fingers and pushed them into his anus with a low moan. I wondered just what kind of relationship he and Buruma have. Or perhaps his thoughts were not of a woman at all...That didn't surprise me as much as it should have.

I wondered what... who could push him to do this? Then he screamed my answer, and his pleasure to the world.

"oh... Uh...UHH...Kaka..rotto!!!"

My father. Of course.

Of all the people he could have been thinking of... If anyone could have pushed the prince to do such a thing, it would be dad. He seems to have the uncanny ability to bring out the best, or the worst in anyone. Of everything I've just witnessed, it was not at all that surprising. I'd seen it coming for so long. Even though I was so much younger, I felt like I was the only one who noticed. It was always the little things really. Bejiita and dad would always have their little verbal battles, and staring contests. For supposed rivals and enemies, they sure smiled a lot.

What really tipped me off, was the way they said each other's names. Bejiita always insisted on calling my father by his saiyajin name, and no other. He would always stress the 'to.' It sounded more like a breathy murmur than anything. And dad, he was no different. He always dragged out the 'jii.' As if it gave him some sort of pleasure, just by saying it. As thought if he elongated out the middle syllabal, it would allow him to say the name a bit longer.

It was so subtle yet so obvious. I even wondered if dad cheated on mom, or if they were in a relationship secretly. But, jugding from how Bejiita san cried and screamed for my father, they are not. I had no idea... it was that serious. That his feelings for my father were that strong.

The fact that he would fly way out here to their old sparring grounds, and pleasure himself, moaning for what he wants, who he wants but doesn't have, tells me that this is all a desparate cry for attention.

My father's attention.

| Maybe I should I be the one to give it instead.. |

Just what happened between them? How long has Bejiita san been this way? He can't just keep doing that... it'll take more than that to get through to dad.

Sadly enough.

Maybe it was no accident that I happened upon him. That I saw him at such a vulnerable time. Now my suspicions are confirmed. Now I know just a bit more about myself.

Maybe a little more than I wanted to...

I think, I need to talk to him. Hopefully he won't rip my head off.

Hopefully Videl won't beat him to it. If she found out...

TBC

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