Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Vengeance of a Prince ❯ Chapter 7 ( Chapter 7 )

Vengeance Of A Prince

(© Jady Arewar and Shi-Saiyan)

Rating: NC17

Warnings: Too many to list! Character death, incest, sex, Yaoi, Yuri, mockery of Saiyajin mating rituals, violence, lots of blood, hentai, insanity, etc.

Summary: Vejita's world falls apart when Trunks is accidentally killed.

Pairings: Gokou/Vejita, Vejita/Trunks, Gohan/Piccolo, Gohan/Bulma, Pan/Vejita, Pan/Bura, Vejita/Goten, Gohan/Pan, Gokou/Pan… and I'm sure I'm forgetting a bunch.

Chapter 7:

He could feel the blood on his hands. It caused goose bumps to run up and down his arms. He shivered with pleasure and terror, hearing the screams echo somewhere in the back of his mind. Why did sights not accompany sounds? Where had Vejita gone? Piccolo stood before him, and he did not speak. Kami… Gohan wished he would speak, overpower the sound of Trunks' shrieks of death. "Piccolo?" he whispered, but he could not hear his voice.

"Lonely?" Piccolo whispered, raising a brow. A stray tear fell from Gohan's eye before he ripped himself from Piccolo's touch. "I didn't do it! I didn't kill Trunks! I DIDN'T!"

"Who are you trying to convince?" Piccolo scowled and stepped forward, grabbing Gohan's neck, nails digging into the skin. Gohan stilled, raising his chin, looking into Piccolo's eyes. He was shaking, cold and fearful. Where was Vejita? He knew… Vejita knew! Gohan could see the fear in Piccolo's eyes. Vejita knew and he was just waiting for Trunks now. "I have to leave. I have to leave the country… the planet. I have to get out of here." He was on the verge of panic.

"You can fight Vejita, Gohan."

"No I can't! Didn't you feel his power! I can't fight him!"

"You're panicking."

"NO SHIT!" Gohan tried to pull away, but Piccolo held him tightly, his free hand circling the demi-Saiyajin's shoulder, refusing to allow him freedom. Gohan stilled after a moment, shuddering, unable to breath. He fell into Piccolo's embrace, resting his face in the soft silks of the Namek's robes. He fell still, eyes closing, seeing Trunks fall from the sky. Gohan watched breathlessly as the limp body collided with the ground, a sickening thud echoing out in the empty forest. He saw himself hovering above the ground, blood running down his face. Was… was that really him?

Piccolo growled faintly as he tried to move away. Gohan's hands had unconscious wrapped around his waist, trapping him against the lost warrior. His grip was tight. He was trembling again, lost inside his mind. This was making him sick. How could Gohan lose himself so easily? Piccolo grabbed the back of his head, long green fingers tangling in hair, yanking it back. Empty soulless black eyes stared back at him.

Gohan… the first of a new race, and the god of all demi-Saiyajin. He was beautiful, and his beauty was only enhanced by those lost onyx orbs. "Gohan?" he whispered. Gohan didn't respond or even blink. Piccolo frowned. "Gohan!" he yelled, only to again receive no response. Piccolo reached up, touching Gohan's cheek. "Gohan, answer me." His thumb ran across the demi-Saiyajin's soft pale skin, knowing that the lack of sunlight could be blamed solely upon his mother and her persistence in Gohan's studies. That woman had destroyed this warrior.

"Gohan, you have to answer me!" He was becoming frightened. What if Gohan lost himself within his mental fantasy world? What if he never returned? The mere thought of losing Gohan… never seeing the boy laugh or smile or be carefree… or never hearing Gohan teasing him about being so stubborn and intense, never once letting go and just enjoying life… gods…

"Gohan," he whispered, leaning down. Piccolo paused just inches away from Gohan's pale thin lips, eyes sliding closed. Could he… could he do this? The arms around his waist tightened. He felt Gohan's breath on his lips. Gohan had awoken. He moved to step back, but the arms held him tight, and warm welcoming lips captured his before he had the chance. "Piccolo," Gohan whispered against his mouth, arms finally leaving his waist, drawing up, wrapping around his neck, forcing the Namek to lean down, pulling him closer. Piccolo moaned out, his thoughts lost against that warm mouth.

Gohan guided their entranced bodies down onto the warm beach sand. He tugged off Piccolo's armor, growing quickly annoyed with it. It was then, as the warm afternoon sunlight began warming Piccolo's skin, his meditative and normally controlled mind returned. He jerked up, wide eyes staring down at the man that he had always considered nothing more than a student.

Gohan returned the stare, a faint smile across his bruised face. His cheeks were flushed heavily red, black eyes sparkling with deviousness. He had forgotten about Trunks in those brief moments… but that wasn't an excuse! This was… this was Gohan.

"Take me, Piccolo," Gohan whispered, reaching out. It was a desperate breathless plea, and it cut Piccolo inside. He gave up in that moment, realizing and understand that this wasn't his Gohan. This wasn't that innocent little bright-eyed coward of a boy that had begged Piccolo to attend his birthday parties and holiday gatherings. This was a demi-Saiyajin. This was a murderer. Yet still, somehow, it was Gohan. Piccolo had to… had to at least try and help him.

He leaned down, reclaiming those lips, allowing Gohan to yank away his clothing hurriedly. He heard the rip of fabric, but he no longer cared. Cloth could be repaired… but he doubted the same applied to his student. He allowed curious hands to run across his body, resting firm muscles, caressing each inch of his body until he felt himself unwillingly responding. He heard muttered prayers and whispered words, but words held no meaning any longer. With fierce, almost angry motions, he grabbed Gohan's waist and hauled him up, forcing the demi-Saiyajin to bend his knees. Without preparation, not really knowing nor caring how sex went about with ningen and Saiyajin, he shoved himself into the tight passage, wincing as he heard the painful screams.

Piccolo forced himself still, though all he wanted was to get it all over with. He felt sick and filthy, doing this to Gohan. Would the chaos of the young man's life ever end?

It was so doubtful…

Flushed cheeks, sweaty brow… Piccolo could smell the blood. It caused his stomach to churn. Gohan whispered something, his name, words; Piccolo couldn't comprehend. He looked down, staring into sparkling tearful black eyes. Did it really hurt that badly? "I'm… I'm sorry," he choked. A faint smirk traced across Gohan's lips. He reached out, wrapping his arms around Piccolo's shoulders and pulled the green alien down. Forgiving lips traced along his jaw, nibbling along the neck. Piccolo waited for the claiming bite that he knew would come. He waited for Gohan to mark him, make him his… a toy, a plaything that he could use and abuse.

It came. The pain rushed through his nerves, causing him to ache in places he didn't know possible. He snarled and ripped himself away from the bite, but the damage had been done. Piccolo was shoved onto his back. Fierce hungry eyes of nothing less than a beast stared down at him, angered… enraged… confused. Gohan began moving around Piccolo's length, lust accompanying that rage. The boy grabbed his own arousal, stroking himself with each jerk of his hips.

Turning his head away, Piccolo threw an arm over his eyes, unable to watch. That… that thing was not Gohan. He would never see the bright-eyed demi-Saiyajin again. He should have told Vejita; he should have ended all the madness when he had the chance. He had wanted to protect Gohan… but every thread of hope for the return of the pure man was gone.

Gohan was no more.

He heard the passionate snarl of climax, felt warm wetness on his stomach. Gohan fell across him, panting for breath. Piccolo didn't wrap his arms around the young male, unable to even stand the scent of him. He lost his arousal within minutes as he felt Gohan's small breaths of slumber. The warm sun continued glowing down on them, warming their skin.

~*~

TBC!