Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Unconditional Bonds (revamped) ❯ Lessons in Desire ( Chapter 18 )

Chapter Eighteen: Lessons in Desire

 

 

His cape whipped behind him with a faint snap. The small sound echoed in his ears and with annoyance he heaved the heavy garment from his shoulders and tossed it aside, and after a thought added his turban to the heap. They were getting in the way of his pacing, and pacing was a very important past-time. For it is through pacing one can second-guess his actions and question his logic.

 

Oh for fuck's sake! an uninvited voice said in his head. Must you sulk the moment something good happens to you? I thought things were progressing nicely.

 

“Well now that I've actually had the time to think on things properly, that's changed. Not that it concerns you,” Piccolo said to his nosey counterpart.

 

It concerns me when I have to listen to this self-pitying crap. I know this is new to you but you're making things much more complicated than they really are. You think too much.

 

“And you think too little.”

 

Well at least I don't turn down a prime piece of meat when I see it.

 

“Nail,” Piccolo growled in warning.

 

I don't know what the hell your problem is. Yeah, he's a Saiyan, but he's fucking hot. Not to mention he's a good match for you. He's just as snarky and proud as you are and he likes the same un-interesting things you do. Personally I'm surprised you haven't fucked his brains out yet…or shall I say again?

 

Stunned, Piccolo halted in his steps and without further ado shoved Nail back into the recesses of his mind. The over-talkative Namek screamed abuse along the way but was effectively silenced…at least for awhile. He only hoped Kami would not feel the need to make an appearance as he was not so easily shrugged off. Returning to his thoughts— that were valid, serious, and in no way related to sulking, thank you very much—he continued to pace.

 

What's taking him so long? Surely, what business he had with that traitorous bitch should be over by now. He took a breath trying to ease the growing anxiety mounting in his chest. This shouldn't be bothering me. I'm fairly certain he wouldn't go back to her…but if he did, I'd get over it, wouldn't I? It's not like I need him or anything. Sure, this is nice and all, but let's be honest I'm not exactly the `mating' type. Bonds…I mean they're for reproducing in the end aren't they? He paused remembering several discussions he had not so long ago. But Vegeta did mention bonds between the same sexes, not to mention these so-called Namekian bonds, but we produce on our own…not that I would do that. Eck. Spitting up eggs; that's vile! I don't need to bond to anyone. I'm not some bored podunk farmer or from a race where I would need to bind myself to anyone. Companionship? Really, if I was starving for something like that couldn't I just get a cat or something? Not a dog, I fucking hate dogs. He suppressed a shudder.

 

Why didn't he blast her? She deserved it. Yeah she's Trunks' mother, but she blatantly betrayed him. I know I wouldn't stand for something like that. I never understood these humans…or Saiyans. Of course, Vegeta is the only real Saiyan I know, Goku doesn't count, he's a moron and too much like a human. Yet despite everything he let her live, perhaps because he was bonded to her. But he wouldn't go back to her, would he? He suddenly took note of the time. What's taking so damn long? He should have been back hours ago! Huffing like a frustrated teenager he scowled at the minute hand before realizing just how he was acting. He scoffed at himself.

 

Who am I kidding?

 

He stilled in his movements and closed his eyes inhaling deeply before letting it out. Defeated, he walked over to his favored chair and sunk into the soft material. He leaned his head back and forced his cynical denying character to be honest with itself.

 

I can't get him out of my mind. Every second my thoughts dwell on him. Even before all of this I had a respect for him that may have bordered on…something else. After the whole Buu thing, when I went back to look for his body, I just…fell apart. But I couldn't, could I? He entrusted the boys' safety to me. But he was wished back, and even though he returned to Bulma, I was happy to see him again, more so than I was to see Gohan. I admit I felt more than a bit guilty for that. But the happiness was of a different sort than my relief over the safety of the kid. Gohan is my responsibility and if the worst was again to happen, I know his soul will go to the fields of paradise. But Vegeta…

 

He began to reminisce to years earlier, straying from his one-sided dialog. On the battlefield with Buu approaching with that ridiculous stomp of his, I didn't want to answer him when he asked what would happen after death; if he would meet `Kakarott' in the hereafter. It wasn't just because of the answer, but because I knew what he was about to do. I never hated and …felt something quite the opposite for a person at the same time. How noble a sacrifice, but how dare he leave! It wasn't fair! In that moment I could see how much he changed without really changing at all. I could see the pride behind the warrior, the fierce protectiveness for those he cared about, and the resolution that shone in his eyes. I think that may have been when it happened. When I `fell' for him. Then the bastard decides to off himself. What a prick! I know why he did it, but he still left me...but I have him now, don't I? Not Bulma…me.

 

It was the first time he truly allowed himself to think such a thing. Tentatively he played with the idea finding hope and joy in it. He squashed all feelings of apprehension and permitted himself to bask in the sheer pleasure of his new-found situation. A small smile threatened to pull at his lips but then dread hit him in the chest.

 

If you have something it can be taken away. Bulma and Vegeta's bond failed, nearly killing him. If this develops any further who is to say it won't happen again? Wouldn't it be wiser to avoid the risk? But something in him rebelled against the idea, he mused it was that little bit of ice in his chest that served as a heart. He liked how things were progressing and he could no longer deny (to his chagrin) how he longed for the Saiyan prince. Perhaps for once he should take the chance. He'd always been so careful and thought out. Maybe he should follow his heart instead of his head, just this once. But he couldn't deny the risks.

 

What if this doesn't work? What would happen? Could I really go back to the way things were? The answer was immediate. No. I'd be gutted. The thought of losing what I just gained is unbearable. If I keep going down this road and getting more attached there will be no hope for me. A horrible thought dawned on him: What if this is one sided? I know he has some feelings for me, I heard them clear enough the other night, and there is some sort of bond forming but what if this plummeting (falling is too weak a word) is only on my end? This is happening too soon. Don't these things take time? I'm losing myself and I'm not sure I want it back. I hate this maudlin crap! Why can't things be clearer cut? His eyes again darted to the clock. Where ishe?!

 

“I'm right here.”

 

Piccolo jumped in his seat. His eyes snapped to the door taking in the lithe shape of the Saiyan prince leaning in the doorway. Once again the elite had managed to take him unaware. Sadly, this time he couldn't chalk it up to Vegeta hiding his ki.

 

A small blush crept across the bridge of the Namek's nose. He kept his mouth shut, not trusting his voice.

 

Vegeta regarded him for a long moment as if calculating a rather difficult equation.

 

“Sorry about the time,” he said cautiously, “the meeting with Bulma didn't go so well. I needed a few hours to regain my composure.”

 

The silence stretched in the room, finally in a quiet voice Piccolo asked,

 

“How much did you hear?”

 

“Why don't you like dogs?” Vegeta asked, somewhat amused the tables had turned.

 

Piccolo colored further.

 

Vegeta smirked at him and pushed himself off the doorframe and entered the room. “If you had bothered, I'm sure you could have determined my whereabouts through the bond, not to mention searching out my ki.”

 

The Namek shifted in his chair uncomfortably, he didn't like to be shown the obvious, especially with the latter part of the Saiyan's statement. The mentioning of the `bond' un-nerved him. Still he cursed himself for not thinking of it before since it had been the subject of his reflection.

 

Reflection, my ass, you sulking loser—oomph

 

Shoving Nail back in his place and tightly sealing him off this time (at least for a good few hours) the tall warrior cleared his throat and quickly changed the subject.

 

“You said it went badly. Was she uncooperative about Trunks?”

 

Vegeta shook his head, walking and seating himself—quite casually Piccolo noted— on the edge of the Namek's bed.

 

“Surprisingly, not really. We came to an agreement—after some debating— that Trunks would be in my charge a few days of the week. I trust that's fine with you?”

 

“Why wouldn't it be?” Piccolo said offhandedly. “I don't mind the kid up here; I told you that.”

 

The Saiyan nodded and smiled briefly before relaying the rest of the tale.

 

“She tried to blame me for the entire thing. Her precious Billy,” he said the name with only minor contempt, “is banged up pretty badly. Apparently she was under the impression that I goaded Trunks into attacking.”

 

Piccolo's brow drew down in disbelief, “Surely not.”

 

“Oh yes,” Vegeta assured, “I corrected her of course, but then again, I fully expected the accusation in the first place.” He shook his head with some lingering resentment, “No, I think what really got me was that, right as I was leaving, she had the gall to apologize for the entire thing and told me she never intended for me, or Trunks, to get hurt.”

 

“What?”

 

The prince nodded slowly, seemingly pleased with the scandalized look on his companion's face. “You heard me.” He shrugged and fiddled with the sleeve of his shirt. “Well, needless to say, it got a bit ugly after that. It didn't last long, but it put me in a foul mood nonetheless.”

 

Piccolo grunted. “I'd expect so. Must be glad to finally be rid of her.” He cursed himself the second it left his mouth; to his great discomfort Vegeta was staring at him levelly. He resisted the immense urge to shrink down in his seat.

 

“It wasn't all bad,” Vegeta said softly, “we have many happy memories together.”

 

Piccolo flinched.

 

“But,” the prince continued, “I am glad that it's over.” He leaned forward slightly, locking eyes with the anxious looking man across from him. “And it is over. What we had is gone and no matter what happens in the future, I will not return to her. On that you have my word.”

 

“Vegeta, I—”

 

“I know this is strange for you, Piccolo.” He rose from his seat and approached the younger warrior who was regarding him warily. Leaning in close, he brushed his fingers across the Namek's face, tracing his cheekbone before cupping his chin gently in his hand. “I don't pretend to know what the future will hold,” he breathed, inclining further in until their forehands rested against one anther. Piccolo shivered as his antenna found themselves buried in Vegeta's hair. “But I can assure you your `plummeting' is not at all one-sided…not in the least.”

 

He sealed the statement by tilting his head slightly and pressing his lips slowly but firmly against those of his companion's.

 

Warm relief and elation flooded the Namek's senses. A soft noise of longing escaped his throat. Without delay he reached out and took hold of the Saiyan that had been the cause of his earlier mental anguish and deepened the kiss. They remained locked that way for several moments, tongues dueling and hands greedily roaming, until Piccolo rose and moved them to the bed.

 

Fueled by pent-up passion he swiftly divested them of their clothing. After the last garment hit the floor he forced himself to slow, though the smaller man squirming beneath him didn't help his resolve any. He wanted to savor this. Their earlier trysts had been rushed or interrupted. He vowed that this time he'd learn every inch of the Saiyan Prince.

 

Vegeta seemed more than happy to comply with this. Evidently, taking note of the change of atmosphere he stilled his impatient wriggling and instead slowly let his hands roam the taut warrior above him, making soft sounds of appreciation along the way.

 

The prince's hands were only stoking the fire building in the pit of warrior's stomach. He knew if this kept going, he'd lose his resolve and plunge into the tight heat he knew was waiting for him. He quickly sat up, moving from the elite's reach and before the other man could protest, flipped him over so he was lying on his stomach. Vegeta made a muffled noise that was devoutly ignored. While straddling the prince's lower back he grabbed his slender wrists and placed them at either side of the older man's head. Vegeta turned to look at him and opened his mouth, probably to snipe, but ceased the moment he felt strong hands roll down his back. His eyelids fluttered shut and he relaxed into his pillow without further protest. Piccolo smirked at him and continued his explorations of the warrior beneath him.

 

Again he noticed the various battle scars on his lover's back. He wanted to know the story behind each one and made a mental note to ask the prince at a later date. For the meantime, he lost himself to the silken texture of the pale skin beneath his fingers. Slowly he roamed the Saiyan's neck, shoulders, and back before sliding further down the older man's body meticulously learning every line, curve, and crevice. The knowledge of the power contained in the small body under him was an aphrodisiac in and of itself. Soon, touching was no longer enough; he had to taste him. His cock, already aroused, twitched in agreement.

 

Vegeta quivered as lips fastened to his neck, and a hand ran through his hair. Piccolo smiled slightly at the reaction and trailed his tongue from the elite's shoulder down his spine, periodically grazing his fangs against the soft flesh. A breathy moan met his ears in response. He relished the sound of it as he did the exquisite taste of the Saiyan's slightly salty skin. He moved lower and then unexpectedly stopped in his ministrations.

 

“Don—”

 

But the protest was cut off with a sharp intake of breath and a strangled moaning howl. Piccolo had taken it upon himself to lavish the elite's sensitive tale spot with the attentions of his tongue and lips, suckling the scarred patch of skin at the base of the prince's spine.

 

Panting, Vegeta rocked in place and moaned the Namek's name. He fisting the sheets and ground his erection into the mattress in time with the short but strong sucking on the most sensitive area of his body. However, Piccolo noticed this and wrapped his hands firmly around the narrow hips of his lover and drew him up to his hands and knees. The Saiyan, though he growled at the loss of friction, did not voice any further complaints. Instead he arched his back to meet the Namek's mouth.

 

Piccolo continued his assault on the small scar until Vegeta's rocking came to a frenzy. His own neglected erection was currently dripping unto the duvet and screaming at him to hurry the hell up. The noises Vegeta was making were electrifying; he was sure he could get off to the sound of them alone. Not willing to test the theory now, he parted the Saiyan's powerful thighs and grudgingly moved from the prince's tail spot just quick enough to suck on his own fingers (after this, he reasoned, they would have to start carrying some sort of lube) before inserting one slicked finger into the elite's small puckered opening. Vegeta hissed but it quickly became a gurgled whine once the Namek returned his mouth to his tail spot.

 

Piccolo slowly moved his fingers in and out of the hot little opening while lavishing the bit of flesh in his mouth with his utmost attention. The heaving writhing body under his control was pushing him to his limits and he nearly stopped to plunge into the welcoming heat of his partner until he caught a glimpse of the prince's impressive erection over the Saiyan's hip.

 

Suddenly changing his plans he removed himself entirely and hauled the prince up so that he was standing on the bed with his hands flat against on the wall. Vegeta grunted but remained silent, perhaps being unable to speak as his chest was heaving as if he'd been in a serious battle.

 

Piccolo spread his legs apart enough so that he could deftly crawl beneath him and sit on the bed leaning against the headboard above which Vegeta had balanced himself. The prince looked down at him in question but threw his head back with a gasp as his erection was swallowed in one go. He nearly lost his balance but Piccolo grasped his hips before he could loose his footing.

 

The Saiyan's cock was impressive and he nearly had trouble managing the girth. He'd done this once before but the angle had been different. The prince eased the process by caressing the Namek's face and lightly stroking the antennae that were in easy reach of his grasp. Piccolo moaned around the older man's cock, feeling his own throb jealously unattended between his legs. He soon managed however, and once they found a suitable rhythm—Vegeta was reduced to pants at this point and, though he appeared to be resisting the urge, jerking his hips into the mouth engulfing him—reapplied his fingers on the Saiyan's tail scar while his other hand busied itself by inserting a few fingers in Vegeta's opening. The taunt skin gave away easily and greedily clenched his fingers. He crooking a finger, and soon found the rough little pleasure spot; he caressed it with no small amount of pressure.

 

The reaction was instant. Losing all composure, Vegeta violently shook his head and opened his mouth to let out a silent scream. Tears trailed down his face, scrunched in what looked like agony. He placed his hands back on the wall and thrust his cock hard down the Namek's throat. He attempted to spread his legs further to accommodate the fingers fucking him from behind but wasn't able to decide what he wanted more so merely stood there quivering, thrusting every now and again. It wasn't long before he called out,

 

“Oh, gods, Piccolo…stop! I'm not going to last…”

 

The plea was disregarded and if anything Piccolo sucked harder and thrust his fingers in deeper to the tight ass while kneading the scar at the base of Vegeta's spine. This over-stimulation didn't last much longer. Piccolo could feel the cock in his mouth harden impossibly further, the taste become slightly more bitter; he sucked at it greedily. True to his word Vegeta's eyes rolled back in his head while his prostate, tail spot and cock were being worked over like never before. He came with a great cry bursting white salty streams into the mouth around him, every drop of which was swallowed. Piccolo's own eyes rolled and he nearly came himself having just acquired a life-long fetish for Saiyan seed. With a whimper, Vegeta pistoned the last of said seed out before collapsing on the bed and the Namek upon it.

 

Piccolo caught him, looking ridiculously pleased with himself. Vegeta didn't begrudge him in the slightest. On the contrary, he complemented him.

 

“You deserve a medal.”

 

Piccolo snorted.

 

“No really, I've never had one that good before.” He then raised a suspicious brow and narrowed his eyes, “Are you sure you haven't done that before?”

“Well there was this one time with Goku—ow!” Piccolo rubbed his arm where Vegeta had punched him, but didn't bother to hide the impish grin on his face.

 

“That's not funny,” Vegeta snapped.

 

Piccolo chuckled and pulled the offended Saiyan into his lap, nuzzling his neck, still painfully aroused from their early play.

 

“Then you shouldn't ask stupid questions,” he breathed into the shorter man's ear, “You know very well, I wouldn't do anything with that happy-go-lucky fuckwit; I have standards.” He then licked the shell of the Saiyan's ear. Vegeta shivered and shut his eyes, by doing so he forgot to put up a fight.

 

Mollified he said, “Is that so?”

 

“Hn.”

 

“Well then, I guess I can forgive you.”

 

“How kind of you,” Piccolo purred grinding into the man above him. Vegeta basked in the sound of the rumbling tone and wrapped his legs around him to meet his thrusts. Piccolo growled in response, showing a flash of fang in the process. A tiny thrill ran up the Saiyan's spine despite the fact he had fully spent himself just moments earlier. With a languid smile he extracted himself from his lover's grip and using his superior strength easily pulled the Namek flat beneath him.

 

“Your turn.”

 

Piccolo's onyx eyes burned with heat as he watched the smaller man explore him just as he had done in turn earlier. After reducing him to a panting, moaning, writhing heap after sucking his antennae, Vegeta, luckily, didn't linger too long before turning his attentions to the green man's cock. He gripped it firmly by the base and began stroking it with slow, even, strokes. While doing so he contemplated it quietly and with no small amount of admiration; there was no way he was going to be able to deep throat that, not without serious practice. So instead, while working the thick emerald member in his hand, he bent over and suckled the tip. Methodically, he worked his way down taking inch by inch twisting his head and tongue differently each time. He couldn't get it all, but he got quite a bit. The Namek wasn't complaining. Indeed, he arched off the bed with a strangled cry and Vegeta had to use his free hand to hold his hips steady.

 

The sight of his lover thrashing on the bed and the noises he was making had efficiently fully aroused the Saiyan Prince once again. But more so, the delicious musky smell and the younger man was giving off was driving him up the walls. His instincts kicking in, he swiftly pulled away and wet his fingers. But when he moved them towards the Namek's opening a hand shot around his wrist and stilled him.

 

Vegeta looked up at him in confusion and was surprised to see his lover's eyes regarding him coldly, his mouth drawn in a hard line. The prince's first reaction was righteous indignation; he refused to be the bottom in this relationship! But before he was about to let loose a scathing remark he caught a fleeting sense of trepidation. Investigating the feeling further through their new bond he found a genuine sense of unease and no small amount of fear radiating from the man so firmly grasping his wrists. This wasn't about who was going to be dominant; there was definitely something more. Realization softened his features, but now was not the time. So he merely nodded and smiled. Piccolo instantly relaxed and released him, looking apologetic.

 

The confrontation had somewhat wilted his erection but that was quickly restored by the prince's quick ministrations and it wasn't long before Piccolo was a quivering mass of need again.

 

Still loose from their earlier bout, Vegeta straddled the Namek and slowly, very slowly, lowered himself onto the Namek's cock. The tip breached the first ring of muscle easily enough but the second was a bit more tricky. Letting out a hissing breath he stilled himself until finally his muscles adjusted and he slithered the rest of the way down until Piccolo was buried in him up to the hilt. The Namek for his part was shaking, his control nearly slipping. Finally, but blissfully, after what seemed like hours, Vegeta started to move. They both let out breaths of relief.

 

Throwing his head back into the pillows, Piccolo raised his hips to meet him with shuddering breaths. He gripped the Saiyan's waist but wisely didn't attempt to guide him. He had just denied Vegeta power over him; he wasn't going to push his luck too far. However, there was no need to as the prince—after squirming around a bit so he found the most direct route to his prostate— rose on his haunches and lowered himself with increasing gusto. The both of them were soon bathed in sweat and moaning to the point it was difficult to tell whose whimpers and groans belonged to whom. Not that either cared at the moment. Vegeta's hair was damp and a few errant strands were succumbing to gravity as he fucked the cock inside him more and more violently.

 

The coil of pleasure was winding tighter and tighter and when a warm hand closed around his bobbing member he let out a hoarse shout. In three hard strokes he doubled over and shot, rather messily, all over his lover's chest. His ass clenched tightly in the process, gripping the invading length in unfathomable heat ripping the Namek's release from him. With a screech, Piccolo bolted upright, holding the prince to him in a death grip as he emptied his seed in a few hard thrusts.

 

A moment passed and they fell apart from each other, Piccolo gingerly pulling out of his new-found Saiyan mate. They lay separate and panting. Finally after a short silence Piccolo spoke,

 

“I'm sorry,” he began in whisper, “I…”

 

“Don't apologize.” Vegeta cut in, his voice hoarse from his earlier screaming, “There's no need. Besides,” he said raising himself on his elbows to look at the taller man sprawled beside him, “I got off twice,” he finished with an obnoxious grin.

 

Piccolo lifted his head and returned the grin, then fell back into the pillows and closed his eyes. “Just give me time,” he said quietly not elucidating further.

 

Vegeta regarded him for a moment then smiled to himself. He crawled to the Namek's side and rested his head on his chest, letting out a contented sigh as a strong arm secured him to his place. Throwing a leg over his companion he soon chased him into the land of dreams and slumber.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

5