Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Perfection ❯ Chapter 11 ( Chapter 11 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: Todesengel_ 
Secrets from yourself.
Anime/Manga: Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Hentai / Horror / Psychological | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 04.27.2006 | Pages: 2 | Words: 3.7K | Visits: 433 | Status: Completed
Secrets from yourself.
Anime/Manga: Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Hentai / Horror / Psychological | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 04.27.2006 | Pages: 2 | Words: 3.7K | Visits: 433 | Status: Completed
He looked at me hard, watching my fingers trace fresh lines that his accelerated healing hadn't covered yet, bruises a deep red and yellow that stretched over brilliant white skin. Pierce lines had swelled bluish colors and I touched over them tenderly, feeling the raised flesh beneath my own. He was showing me a kindness by letting me touch him this way, a very slight vulnerability that allowed me to come closer than he'd probably let anyone in a very long time.
He looked deeply into me, accepting the moment and even accepting his own inability to answer my question. Perhaps there was no answer at all. He used because I would use if I had seen the things he'd seen. In my lifetime, I had always been overrun with the curiosity or more appropriately, fascination with human weaknesses. What was so powerful that it could make people resort to damn near anything just to have it in their life? What beautiful world awaited someone at the very peak of drug induced intoxication?
I'd never used myself but than again, he was as right about me as I was about him. I'd never seen the earth through the eyes of someone that had truly seen the horrors it could supply. I WAS naive in some ways. I'd seen the big bad evils tarnish lives in a blink but I'd never watched men enact the terrors that he had witnessed. I realized that if I had, I would probably never be able to sleep again or even think coherently.
Maybe the harshest lesson I was learning in those moments was that I had been blessed. I'd been so shallow to think that when my little reputation, (however pathetically fake it had always been), had been a tad stained by an admitted mistake, that the world as I knew it wasn't as it should be. That once hero Goku wasn't so-called perfect, that the whole world was just completely out-of-wack and needed to be fixed. Christ, I think I felt like the most selfish person in those moments.
"What about Bulma," I finally sighed, letting his arm fall. "Why did you have to kill her?"
His face tightened and maybe if I hadn't been him, I never would have noticed at all. He turned from me, perhaps knowing that despite his stoic features to the outside world, I could trace every contour of his face and tell you exactly what it meant.
"She loved you, you know," I told his back, looking downwards. "We've always known that."
He shrugged slightly, trying to will away emotion the same way that I always did.
"She didn't love the man we'd become," He answered honestly. "She saw who we really were---who we became after so long---and it scared her stupid."
He turned to look at me again, his expression very dark suddenly.
"She tried to stop inevitability." He said in a cold tone. "She tried to destroy everything I'd worked so hard for. She would have stolen the thousands of lives that will soon be saved by my vision. The same with Piccolo and all the others that tried to stop me. They see the means but they don't realize the results. Don't you see?"
He moved closer to me, staring so hard at my face that I felt almost compelled to look away, my willpower keeping me steady.
"No one can stop me," He whispered in a hissing voice. "I will kill anyone that stands in my way."
He looked over me, letting the words sink in.
"Anyone."
I stood up a little straighter, not liking his intimidating stance over me. Ohhhhhh no. I did NOT like that. In fact, it reminded me very instantaneously of Vegeta and I just glared him straight in the eye, leaning forward with my teeth grit.
"I can stop you," I told him point blank. "I think we both know that."
He blinked, backing off a bit. I think he was probably a little bit impressed by the sudden spring in my attitude, never having seen this side of himself before the great change.
"What would you be stopping?" He cocked his head to the side finally. "Do you even know?"
I paused for a while, mulling over what he was trying to say exactly.
"Come with me," he finally sighed. "Walk a bit beside me, if you can."
We both glanced at my knees and I moved one step forwards.
"They hurt," I admitted, glaring at him a tad for emphasis. "in fact, they feel downright strange. Why did you do that anyways?"
"Felt like the thing to do," He shrugged. "I needed to know where you stood in the way of things. I needed to know if you were a threat or not."
"And you decided?" I raised my eyebrow.
He thought about it for a moment, helping me to walk a tad until I gained enough balance to proceed mostly on my own.
"You're right that you could stop me," He said after a bit. "Or more specifically, that physically, you could beat me."
I nodded, glad for this revelation.
"But it doesn't really mean you would win," He looked over towards me, gaining another raised eyebrow. "You have something to lose, Goku. How can you destroy a man that cares for nothing? You value your life, I see that in your eyes. Me? I'd fight to the death and love every minute of it."
I remained in quiet contemplation, unable to meet his eyes as I mulled over the truth in that. It was a very negative comment but more than anything, I believed him. Despite the coldness and even the points when I would gaze at his face and see something akin to very obtuse madness, there was always a bit of desperation. Indeed, despite his love for the ideas of a paradise on earth, he seemed to have no real dispute with death.
"Enough talk of somber things," He waved his hand, leading me out of the great room. "I want to show you my world. I want to show you the utopia I have created and I want you to understand everything before you try to stop it."
He led me through corridors of white paint and marble floors, gold fixtures holding up candles and illuminating various paintings of him, created by many different artists in many different styles. How positively vain, I almost laughed allowed, before accepting the fact that I was staring for ridiculous periods of time at every one and wishing I actually had more time to do so. Truly, we were totally in love with ourself. No society to condemn our self obsessive tendencies, it was exactly what I would do; immortalize myself in paint.
It also brought to light a very acute understanding that I really felt no shame in being so abrasively turned-on by him. We'd always been obsessed with mirrors and reflections; it would make perfect sense that I constantly caught myself admiring him.
We came to an enormous room, dwarfing even the regenerating place I had awoken in. A large four poster bed was encircled by various cloths, green and silver and sheer that wrapped around the room. Everything was chrome and green, leaves and vines crawling up silver walls, sunlight shining down in great rays from the windows in the ceiling. A waterfall trickled in the corner, caught in a large pool that beamed with glittering fish that danced beneath the surface, frogs leaping from Lilly-pads onto gleaming stones. The pool was extended outwards into lines, tiny streams that went all over the room's floor.
I stood still for a bit, just gazing around at the paintings that were directly on the walls, indicating many interpretations of paradise, lakes and seas painted so real that I reached out to touch them, amazed by all of it. Yes, this was his room. I could feel it. I knew it because of any room in all the world, it was the one that I would have created.
He had touched a hidden button behind a vast array of bluish silver flowers, a hidden door sliding open. Grabbing some clothes, he tossed them at me, adding a half-grinned "hope they're your size", before watching me unapologetically. I hadn't even realized that I was more or less strutting around his palace in just my boxers, of course, never having been one to worry so much about my own nakedness. Human insecurities and obsession with hiding their natural state had always been something of an illogical mystery to me.
I pulled on the shirt he had thrown, a gorgeous, tight fitting white tank top that mirrored his own black version. He smiled as I rolled my eyes, his obvious pleasure in making us two different versions of the same person; the black and the white. My smile was quickly replaced by a pained expression as I grimaced, my knees roaring with agony as I tried to pull down my briefs.
I almost fell to the floor in the waves of nausea I was experiencing, not even realizing he was standing next to me, holding me tightly until I toppled forward and found my face pressed into his neck. I trembled at the pain, color fading from my face as he slowly led me down onto the bed, a concerned look on his features. I panted beneath him, holding him tight to my chest as I just rocked back and forth from conscience state of pain and oblivion. I was so close to passing out, hardly hearing him when he coached me to "just breathe, just breathe" as he lay over me.
His hands were on my back, sliding as best they could, sandwiched between me and bedspread. My eyes were closed yet I took a moment to focus more on the pleasure of closeness than the pain, loving the feel of cold satin from the bed and his hot body laying perched between my legs. The sensation of blinding pain and pleasure suddenly caught me before I fell from the precipice of consciousness, my eyes drifting open.
He was staring down at me, watching every inch of my skin as it paled and then flushed back with color, my eyes dilated then reverting back to normal. He pulled one of his hands from my back, letting his fingers sift through my hair as he made a "shh"ing noise, calming me. Perhaps he knew precisely how to comfort me, doing exactly what he would want someone to do to him in such a state of agony. His lips washed over my skin in calming, chaste kisses, letting my breathing go normal as he tenderly touched his mouth over my eyelids and forehead, nuzzling the side of my face.
"You ok?" He finally asked, hand still gliding through my hair. I nodded, swallowing when I realized that I, for some odd reason, didn't want the moment to end. Yes, the pain was excruciating but the closeness, the soft press of his bare arms around mine and the heat and weight of his muscular body over me was in a word, wonderful. I knew that extracting my hold on him was long pass due but I only gripped him tighter, my fingers in the back of his hair as I just breathed for a second longer.
And then my eyes bolted open as I was ball sack-kicked with the realization that this was so comforting because it was what I had done with Vegeta so often. Oh, but what a lovely, cringe-worthy Apocolypse that was. I'm surprised I had enough self control to even restrain myself from punching the poor oblivious schmuck right off of me, his face a look of pure confusion at my sudden animosity.
He slowly crawled off, bending down to hold up a pair of gorgeous black pants, also very similar to his own. Tenderly, he lifted my foot, sliding one pant-leg over, than the other as he let the smooth material glide upwards, along with his hands. He was kneeling over me, taking special care of my knees as he dressed me. The heat from his palms and the weight of his finger tips as they inched upwards excited me and I fought it down, refusing to catch his imploring gaze as he shamelessly took in every inch of my exposed body.
My cock tightened in my briefs and as much as I realized I truly ought to be ashamed of the fact, at the same time, I recalled his words. He knew exactly how I felt. He knew precisely how I would respond. And in that fact, I would never have to be ashamed or apologize. I would never look at myself and think that I was stupid so why would he?
I leaned upwards as he pulled the pants over my lower section, sliding them over my hips but leaving them unbuttoned as he stared at me. To my shock, he slowly traced the outline of my erected cock beneath my briefs, his touch so light it was as though someone was just slightly blowing over tiny spaces of it. I caught my breath, gawking as he did this strange thing. It almost wasn't even sexual as he touched it, his eyes never looking up as he was just fascinated by me.
"So much alike," He whispered. He glanced up at me, fingers still around my length. "My God, we're so beautiful."
My breath hitched as he suddenly leaned forward and kissed me on the mouth, nothing chaste or reserved about it. I crawled backwards, my eyes wide as I tried to escape him, his body only moving closer as he inched over me. My head suddenly was against the headboard and a mass of green satin pillows, his tongue now pushed into my mouth. I struggled, not understanding this.
Yes, every single inch of my body (yes yes, giggle, every inch, snort snort) was screaming that I wanted this. But at the same time, every powerful part of my body was warring against another.
---Sexually? I was tearing his clothes off in my mind and beating his insides with every throbbing bit of my cock.
---Emotionally? My heart was inching its foot up my ass for being ignorant as to fall so quickly for another; especially since I had always claimed to love Vegeta.
---Mentally? I was wondering what kind of vaccination could cure this amazing breed of stupidity.
I let myself bow to him for a moment, silencing the war within me. I needed this. I did. I needed just a second where I wasn't beating myself up for all the bad decisions. I needed a moment to enjoy someone besides Vegeta, to feel beautiful within the arms of someone that genuinely just found me compelling. I needed to make a memory that I wouldn't see as tainted later because I found it was a lie. I just needed so many things that he gave me for a minute.
I held the back of his head, lacing my fingers in his hair as he was doing to me. We battled with each other's mouths, kissing exactly how we loved to be kissed, touching with no apologies exactly where we knew the other liked to be touched. Even the force with which we teased each other was non-experimental, never shy or curious so much as exactly how we both wanted it.
He pumped my cock furiously, moving his hand quickly into my briefs and yanking it upwards. I gasped against his mouth, pushing harder against him as he jerked me off. We rocked in-tune with each other, his thumb moving in circles over the tip of my erection. I trembled as I held him tight to me, grasping the thickness of his own hardness, feeling how he must have been fascinated by mine. We were exactly the same size, which I suppose shouldn't have surprised me, yet it did.
I violently tore at his zipper, ripping it downwards and letting my hand dive into the heat of his cock. He moaned in approval, pushing against me as we held each other. We were both aggressive, my only hindrance in that case being my knees, causing me to allow his dominance for the time being. For some reason, and it's an odd thing to admit, but the sex was somewhat void in this act. We weren't doing this because we planned any sort of relationship in the future. We weren't even doing this for selfish reasons, or for the momentary release we knew we'd soon achieve.
It was as though we were silently agreeing that this was necessary. We needed to understand each other on every level, on the ultimate to the somewhat mundane. We needed to grasp the finality and the depth to which we were alike. Even in the most intimate of details, we mirrored each other and in this, we were both given the revelation that indeed, we could understand the other in ways that not a single person in all the universes could.
We panted in hushed breaths, our eyes locked and our lips parted as we watched each other during the final moments. Our erections swelled to painful extents, the hardness like massaging flesh covered granite. Precum leaked over my knuckles, pooling on my lower abdomen. I stared at it, my rapid breaths knocking my vision up and down as I looked at the beautiful beads, his promise that everything I was feeling and experiencing was exactly like his own. His promise that as terrific as I was feeling, he was feeling that way too.
Our chests convulsed with violent breathing, veins appearing in both our foreheads as we reached the end of this experiment. In unison, both our heads were thrown back, sounds identical to one another ripping from our throats. I hadn't even realized I sounded like that or that I so often threw my head backwards in a climax, taking about .5 seconds to dwell on the fact. We attacked each other with a quick, vicious embrace, shaking slightly against each other as we road the waves of our exploration, our hearts pounding the same rhythm and our panting coming out at the same time. Without a word, we both touched the cum that lay over us from the other, raising it to our mouths in the sickest, most sexual moment of our experiment. Our eyes closed and we collapsed in the sensation of tasting someone else and that someone else being entirely us.
No explanation needed.
When we had both finally quieted, our breathing becoming normal once more, he lifted his head from the crook of my shoulder, kissing me deeply once more. I let him, sinking into the calm after the storm, loving the fact that the pain had been so forgotten that the sting of its intensity was like a bad dream, more or less never having existed at all.
"You ought to be a doctor," I whispered, not even sure if he'd heard me until we both burst into laughter, letting out every last bit of tension as we rolled with it.
"Yeah," he chuckled. "I would have loved to see Mrs. Steinsin handle that little demonstration of masturbation in Sex ED."
It was the kind of stupid humor I appreciated and we both rolled onto our backs, gazing up at a mirror covered ceiling as we went with it.
We lay there for a while, staring up at the reflections of two men who looked like the reflections of each other. The good and the bad Goku, I thought for a second. We nonchalantly buttoned our pants, still gazing upwards at the unusual spectacle.
"I don't know why I did that," He admitted, letting his face roll over to gaze at the side of mine. "It just dawned on me that I needed it. That WE needed it."
I finally let my head roll to the side, facing him.
"We did." I nodded, admitting it to him even when I hadn't planned to.
We stared once more at the other's face, wondering silently how often we did this when the other wasn't looking. I looked downwards, watching as both our fingers coiled around the other's, holding hands for just a second because it was what our bodies told us instinctively to do. Everything was instinctive and very rarely mental and I found myself being more primal around him than I had been even with Vegeta at times. Not violent, mind you, the way that Vegeta and I had always been; just more based on what my body told me was natural to do and how naturally to react.
"There is so much I don't know about you," He whispered, moving a tad closer. We locked eyes. "There are things I can feel that you keep from me, hidden away; your secrets possibly even more dark than mine. Only," He paused, blinking. "the things I have done I don't hide like you do. I don't feel shame in the cruelties I have caused and I don't feel the obligation to hide myself from you. Because I am you. And you are me."
I nodded, feeling the tension build in the air.
"So tell me," He breathed, tracing my face with his fingertips. "beautiful stranger. How long do you intend to keep your secrets from yourself?"
He looked deeply into me, accepting the moment and even accepting his own inability to answer my question. Perhaps there was no answer at all. He used because I would use if I had seen the things he'd seen. In my lifetime, I had always been overrun with the curiosity or more appropriately, fascination with human weaknesses. What was so powerful that it could make people resort to damn near anything just to have it in their life? What beautiful world awaited someone at the very peak of drug induced intoxication?
I'd never used myself but than again, he was as right about me as I was about him. I'd never seen the earth through the eyes of someone that had truly seen the horrors it could supply. I WAS naive in some ways. I'd seen the big bad evils tarnish lives in a blink but I'd never watched men enact the terrors that he had witnessed. I realized that if I had, I would probably never be able to sleep again or even think coherently.
Maybe the harshest lesson I was learning in those moments was that I had been blessed. I'd been so shallow to think that when my little reputation, (however pathetically fake it had always been), had been a tad stained by an admitted mistake, that the world as I knew it wasn't as it should be. That once hero Goku wasn't so-called perfect, that the whole world was just completely out-of-wack and needed to be fixed. Christ, I think I felt like the most selfish person in those moments.
"What about Bulma," I finally sighed, letting his arm fall. "Why did you have to kill her?"
His face tightened and maybe if I hadn't been him, I never would have noticed at all. He turned from me, perhaps knowing that despite his stoic features to the outside world, I could trace every contour of his face and tell you exactly what it meant.
"She loved you, you know," I told his back, looking downwards. "We've always known that."
He shrugged slightly, trying to will away emotion the same way that I always did.
"She didn't love the man we'd become," He answered honestly. "She saw who we really were---who we became after so long---and it scared her stupid."
He turned to look at me again, his expression very dark suddenly.
"She tried to stop inevitability." He said in a cold tone. "She tried to destroy everything I'd worked so hard for. She would have stolen the thousands of lives that will soon be saved by my vision. The same with Piccolo and all the others that tried to stop me. They see the means but they don't realize the results. Don't you see?"
He moved closer to me, staring so hard at my face that I felt almost compelled to look away, my willpower keeping me steady.
"No one can stop me," He whispered in a hissing voice. "I will kill anyone that stands in my way."
He looked over me, letting the words sink in.
"Anyone."
I stood up a little straighter, not liking his intimidating stance over me. Ohhhhhh no. I did NOT like that. In fact, it reminded me very instantaneously of Vegeta and I just glared him straight in the eye, leaning forward with my teeth grit.
"I can stop you," I told him point blank. "I think we both know that."
He blinked, backing off a bit. I think he was probably a little bit impressed by the sudden spring in my attitude, never having seen this side of himself before the great change.
"What would you be stopping?" He cocked his head to the side finally. "Do you even know?"
I paused for a while, mulling over what he was trying to say exactly.
"Come with me," he finally sighed. "Walk a bit beside me, if you can."
We both glanced at my knees and I moved one step forwards.
"They hurt," I admitted, glaring at him a tad for emphasis. "in fact, they feel downright strange. Why did you do that anyways?"
"Felt like the thing to do," He shrugged. "I needed to know where you stood in the way of things. I needed to know if you were a threat or not."
"And you decided?" I raised my eyebrow.
He thought about it for a moment, helping me to walk a tad until I gained enough balance to proceed mostly on my own.
"You're right that you could stop me," He said after a bit. "Or more specifically, that physically, you could beat me."
I nodded, glad for this revelation.
"But it doesn't really mean you would win," He looked over towards me, gaining another raised eyebrow. "You have something to lose, Goku. How can you destroy a man that cares for nothing? You value your life, I see that in your eyes. Me? I'd fight to the death and love every minute of it."
I remained in quiet contemplation, unable to meet his eyes as I mulled over the truth in that. It was a very negative comment but more than anything, I believed him. Despite the coldness and even the points when I would gaze at his face and see something akin to very obtuse madness, there was always a bit of desperation. Indeed, despite his love for the ideas of a paradise on earth, he seemed to have no real dispute with death.
"Enough talk of somber things," He waved his hand, leading me out of the great room. "I want to show you my world. I want to show you the utopia I have created and I want you to understand everything before you try to stop it."
He led me through corridors of white paint and marble floors, gold fixtures holding up candles and illuminating various paintings of him, created by many different artists in many different styles. How positively vain, I almost laughed allowed, before accepting the fact that I was staring for ridiculous periods of time at every one and wishing I actually had more time to do so. Truly, we were totally in love with ourself. No society to condemn our self obsessive tendencies, it was exactly what I would do; immortalize myself in paint.
It also brought to light a very acute understanding that I really felt no shame in being so abrasively turned-on by him. We'd always been obsessed with mirrors and reflections; it would make perfect sense that I constantly caught myself admiring him.
We came to an enormous room, dwarfing even the regenerating place I had awoken in. A large four poster bed was encircled by various cloths, green and silver and sheer that wrapped around the room. Everything was chrome and green, leaves and vines crawling up silver walls, sunlight shining down in great rays from the windows in the ceiling. A waterfall trickled in the corner, caught in a large pool that beamed with glittering fish that danced beneath the surface, frogs leaping from Lilly-pads onto gleaming stones. The pool was extended outwards into lines, tiny streams that went all over the room's floor.
I stood still for a bit, just gazing around at the paintings that were directly on the walls, indicating many interpretations of paradise, lakes and seas painted so real that I reached out to touch them, amazed by all of it. Yes, this was his room. I could feel it. I knew it because of any room in all the world, it was the one that I would have created.
He had touched a hidden button behind a vast array of bluish silver flowers, a hidden door sliding open. Grabbing some clothes, he tossed them at me, adding a half-grinned "hope they're your size", before watching me unapologetically. I hadn't even realized that I was more or less strutting around his palace in just my boxers, of course, never having been one to worry so much about my own nakedness. Human insecurities and obsession with hiding their natural state had always been something of an illogical mystery to me.
I pulled on the shirt he had thrown, a gorgeous, tight fitting white tank top that mirrored his own black version. He smiled as I rolled my eyes, his obvious pleasure in making us two different versions of the same person; the black and the white. My smile was quickly replaced by a pained expression as I grimaced, my knees roaring with agony as I tried to pull down my briefs.
I almost fell to the floor in the waves of nausea I was experiencing, not even realizing he was standing next to me, holding me tightly until I toppled forward and found my face pressed into his neck. I trembled at the pain, color fading from my face as he slowly led me down onto the bed, a concerned look on his features. I panted beneath him, holding him tight to my chest as I just rocked back and forth from conscience state of pain and oblivion. I was so close to passing out, hardly hearing him when he coached me to "just breathe, just breathe" as he lay over me.
His hands were on my back, sliding as best they could, sandwiched between me and bedspread. My eyes were closed yet I took a moment to focus more on the pleasure of closeness than the pain, loving the feel of cold satin from the bed and his hot body laying perched between my legs. The sensation of blinding pain and pleasure suddenly caught me before I fell from the precipice of consciousness, my eyes drifting open.
He was staring down at me, watching every inch of my skin as it paled and then flushed back with color, my eyes dilated then reverting back to normal. He pulled one of his hands from my back, letting his fingers sift through my hair as he made a "shh"ing noise, calming me. Perhaps he knew precisely how to comfort me, doing exactly what he would want someone to do to him in such a state of agony. His lips washed over my skin in calming, chaste kisses, letting my breathing go normal as he tenderly touched his mouth over my eyelids and forehead, nuzzling the side of my face.
"You ok?" He finally asked, hand still gliding through my hair. I nodded, swallowing when I realized that I, for some odd reason, didn't want the moment to end. Yes, the pain was excruciating but the closeness, the soft press of his bare arms around mine and the heat and weight of his muscular body over me was in a word, wonderful. I knew that extracting my hold on him was long pass due but I only gripped him tighter, my fingers in the back of his hair as I just breathed for a second longer.
And then my eyes bolted open as I was ball sack-kicked with the realization that this was so comforting because it was what I had done with Vegeta so often. Oh, but what a lovely, cringe-worthy Apocolypse that was. I'm surprised I had enough self control to even restrain myself from punching the poor oblivious schmuck right off of me, his face a look of pure confusion at my sudden animosity.
He slowly crawled off, bending down to hold up a pair of gorgeous black pants, also very similar to his own. Tenderly, he lifted my foot, sliding one pant-leg over, than the other as he let the smooth material glide upwards, along with his hands. He was kneeling over me, taking special care of my knees as he dressed me. The heat from his palms and the weight of his finger tips as they inched upwards excited me and I fought it down, refusing to catch his imploring gaze as he shamelessly took in every inch of my exposed body.
My cock tightened in my briefs and as much as I realized I truly ought to be ashamed of the fact, at the same time, I recalled his words. He knew exactly how I felt. He knew precisely how I would respond. And in that fact, I would never have to be ashamed or apologize. I would never look at myself and think that I was stupid so why would he?
I leaned upwards as he pulled the pants over my lower section, sliding them over my hips but leaving them unbuttoned as he stared at me. To my shock, he slowly traced the outline of my erected cock beneath my briefs, his touch so light it was as though someone was just slightly blowing over tiny spaces of it. I caught my breath, gawking as he did this strange thing. It almost wasn't even sexual as he touched it, his eyes never looking up as he was just fascinated by me.
"So much alike," He whispered. He glanced up at me, fingers still around my length. "My God, we're so beautiful."
My breath hitched as he suddenly leaned forward and kissed me on the mouth, nothing chaste or reserved about it. I crawled backwards, my eyes wide as I tried to escape him, his body only moving closer as he inched over me. My head suddenly was against the headboard and a mass of green satin pillows, his tongue now pushed into my mouth. I struggled, not understanding this.
Yes, every single inch of my body (yes yes, giggle, every inch, snort snort) was screaming that I wanted this. But at the same time, every powerful part of my body was warring against another.
---Sexually? I was tearing his clothes off in my mind and beating his insides with every throbbing bit of my cock.
---Emotionally? My heart was inching its foot up my ass for being ignorant as to fall so quickly for another; especially since I had always claimed to love Vegeta.
---Mentally? I was wondering what kind of vaccination could cure this amazing breed of stupidity.
I let myself bow to him for a moment, silencing the war within me. I needed this. I did. I needed just a second where I wasn't beating myself up for all the bad decisions. I needed a moment to enjoy someone besides Vegeta, to feel beautiful within the arms of someone that genuinely just found me compelling. I needed to make a memory that I wouldn't see as tainted later because I found it was a lie. I just needed so many things that he gave me for a minute.
I held the back of his head, lacing my fingers in his hair as he was doing to me. We battled with each other's mouths, kissing exactly how we loved to be kissed, touching with no apologies exactly where we knew the other liked to be touched. Even the force with which we teased each other was non-experimental, never shy or curious so much as exactly how we both wanted it.
He pumped my cock furiously, moving his hand quickly into my briefs and yanking it upwards. I gasped against his mouth, pushing harder against him as he jerked me off. We rocked in-tune with each other, his thumb moving in circles over the tip of my erection. I trembled as I held him tight to me, grasping the thickness of his own hardness, feeling how he must have been fascinated by mine. We were exactly the same size, which I suppose shouldn't have surprised me, yet it did.
I violently tore at his zipper, ripping it downwards and letting my hand dive into the heat of his cock. He moaned in approval, pushing against me as we held each other. We were both aggressive, my only hindrance in that case being my knees, causing me to allow his dominance for the time being. For some reason, and it's an odd thing to admit, but the sex was somewhat void in this act. We weren't doing this because we planned any sort of relationship in the future. We weren't even doing this for selfish reasons, or for the momentary release we knew we'd soon achieve.
It was as though we were silently agreeing that this was necessary. We needed to understand each other on every level, on the ultimate to the somewhat mundane. We needed to grasp the finality and the depth to which we were alike. Even in the most intimate of details, we mirrored each other and in this, we were both given the revelation that indeed, we could understand the other in ways that not a single person in all the universes could.
We panted in hushed breaths, our eyes locked and our lips parted as we watched each other during the final moments. Our erections swelled to painful extents, the hardness like massaging flesh covered granite. Precum leaked over my knuckles, pooling on my lower abdomen. I stared at it, my rapid breaths knocking my vision up and down as I looked at the beautiful beads, his promise that everything I was feeling and experiencing was exactly like his own. His promise that as terrific as I was feeling, he was feeling that way too.
Our chests convulsed with violent breathing, veins appearing in both our foreheads as we reached the end of this experiment. In unison, both our heads were thrown back, sounds identical to one another ripping from our throats. I hadn't even realized I sounded like that or that I so often threw my head backwards in a climax, taking about .5 seconds to dwell on the fact. We attacked each other with a quick, vicious embrace, shaking slightly against each other as we road the waves of our exploration, our hearts pounding the same rhythm and our panting coming out at the same time. Without a word, we both touched the cum that lay over us from the other, raising it to our mouths in the sickest, most sexual moment of our experiment. Our eyes closed and we collapsed in the sensation of tasting someone else and that someone else being entirely us.
No explanation needed.
When we had both finally quieted, our breathing becoming normal once more, he lifted his head from the crook of my shoulder, kissing me deeply once more. I let him, sinking into the calm after the storm, loving the fact that the pain had been so forgotten that the sting of its intensity was like a bad dream, more or less never having existed at all.
"You ought to be a doctor," I whispered, not even sure if he'd heard me until we both burst into laughter, letting out every last bit of tension as we rolled with it.
"Yeah," he chuckled. "I would have loved to see Mrs. Steinsin handle that little demonstration of masturbation in Sex ED."
It was the kind of stupid humor I appreciated and we both rolled onto our backs, gazing up at a mirror covered ceiling as we went with it.
We lay there for a while, staring up at the reflections of two men who looked like the reflections of each other. The good and the bad Goku, I thought for a second. We nonchalantly buttoned our pants, still gazing upwards at the unusual spectacle.
"I don't know why I did that," He admitted, letting his face roll over to gaze at the side of mine. "It just dawned on me that I needed it. That WE needed it."
I finally let my head roll to the side, facing him.
"We did." I nodded, admitting it to him even when I hadn't planned to.
We stared once more at the other's face, wondering silently how often we did this when the other wasn't looking. I looked downwards, watching as both our fingers coiled around the other's, holding hands for just a second because it was what our bodies told us instinctively to do. Everything was instinctive and very rarely mental and I found myself being more primal around him than I had been even with Vegeta at times. Not violent, mind you, the way that Vegeta and I had always been; just more based on what my body told me was natural to do and how naturally to react.
"There is so much I don't know about you," He whispered, moving a tad closer. We locked eyes. "There are things I can feel that you keep from me, hidden away; your secrets possibly even more dark than mine. Only," He paused, blinking. "the things I have done I don't hide like you do. I don't feel shame in the cruelties I have caused and I don't feel the obligation to hide myself from you. Because I am you. And you are me."
I nodded, feeling the tension build in the air.
"So tell me," He breathed, tracing my face with his fingertips. "beautiful stranger. How long do you intend to keep your secrets from yourself?"