TWISTING THE SHADOWS - Prologue

 

 

 

          He’d like to have believed that strange happenstance had been what had brought him to the lake hidden amongst the thick nestle of a darkened forest.  That it was an odd twist of fate that he had come to be bathing in its broad waters.  He would have very much preferred it if he could have pretended that it was nothing more than a spontaneous act on his part that had wound him up wherever he so happened to currently be.  Unfortunately, lying to himself was not something that Son Gohan did very often, and whenever he actually did attempt to deceive himself he failed at it miserably.  There was no chance in any spiritual realm, let alone Hell, that he could possibly convince himself that what he was doing was in anyway other than what he was actually doing.  Which was trying to shrivel his hard, aching arousal back down to its normal size, embarrassingly enough.

 

Gohan sighed again and moved deeper down into the cold waters of the almost black-blue lake.  He’d been soaking himself in its ice-like water for almost a quarter of an hour now, and the only things to shrivel had been the rest of his body.  The damn insulting state of his groin at the current moment was showing absolutely no signs of abating.  He was almost gnawing his teeth in frustration.

 

The strange feelings had started early that morning, about two hours after breakfast.  He had been going through some of his old physics books, reacquainting himself with the rudimentary knowledge he had left far behind, when his breathing began to unaccountably quicken.  There was no reason for his sudden rush of breathing; no explanation for the heat that abruptly flooded through him with no warning at all.  He was at a loss for words when the steady increase of his senses became such that heartbeats not his own came close to deafening him; the scents of his family in the walls, the floor, the air becoming so strong that the skin on the inside of his nostrils felt as though it were blistering.  Then he really could not speak when a painful, debilitating cramp gripped his entire body and all that emerged from his throat was strained, soundless air.

 

He’d blanked out after that, and when he’d awoken on his bedroom floor it was to the sound and smell of his mother approaching, and the jutting flagpole in his trousers.  He’d decided then, on the verge of panicking if not already well within its depths, that it was probably a good idea to escape out of his bedroom window before his mother saw the state of him and had the nerve to ask him who he was thinking about.  He’d been at the unnamed lake ever since.

 

The funny thing was, he wasn’t thinking about anyone.  In fact, sex very rarely ever crossed his mind.  It was only when someone else brought it up that he even thought about it.  He was slightly older than seventeen now, and he knew he should be thinking about it more often, but truth be told he just wasn’t interested.  He had briefly considered that maybe it had something to do with his Saiya-jin half...that perhaps his father’s race matured sexually later than Ningen’s did.  Or perhaps that there was just something wrong with him.  In any case, what was happening to him right now was completely new to him, and though the water he was standing up to his shoulders in was icy-cold, turning his exposed skin a bluish white and sending his teeth chattering so strong he was afraid that they would break in his gums, the heat insistently pounding at his groin was not going away.

 

He shivered, but he was uncertain if it was with pleasure, or with the cold.  He was still breathing fast, barely a hairsbreadth away from panting, and though his senses weren’t behaving as strongly as they had just before he’d passed out, he was smelling and hearing things he had never been able to before.  Another shiver passed through him and he gasped involuntarily.  The emotions and sensations he was feeling were so alien and confusing, he couldn’t even decide whether what he was feeling was pain or pleasure.

 

Almost of its own volition one of his hands sunk beneath the surface of the lake and began a long, steady caress of his abdomen.  His skin beneath his fingers felt slimy, but as he traced the lines of his muscles, mapping their curves and ridges he felt them tense and ripple, sending a sudden bolt of definite excitement shooting through him.  The gasp escaped his throat unnoticed.  His fingers hesitated.  They could go lower.  He felt the pushing within him for his fingers to touch something else below where they were currently pressing.  Confusion caused his fingers to halt, however.

 

He knew what masturbation was.  Despite his books and study manuals being selected by his mother, he wasn’t naïve.  He’d gone to the library numerous times over the years to take out books that were non-curriculum, most of them far more adult-orientated now, than the ones he’d first selected, of course.  And in a lot of the novels there were often quite…detailed descriptions of sexual intercourse, and even once a rather explicit masturbation scene.  So, no, it wasn’t as if he didn’t know what it was that his body was clamouring for.  It was just that he didn’t know… if he should.

 

His fingers twitched, but moved no lower.  With a hiss of frustration Gohan hurled himself farther into the lake, diving down into its shockingly cold depths and swimming as far below as he could manage on one shuddering, shallow breath.  It was dark down there, the over-cast sky above its surface blotting out any light that would illuminate its waters.  In the corner of his eyes there were vague flashes of silver, informing him that the lakes cold depths were not empty, though he was confused by how skittish the fish were acting around him.  Moments later his lungs began to burn, and he discovered that the bone-chilling cold of the deep water was no help at all to him.  Mentally finding a curse that suited his predicament, he twisted his body around and shot himself towards the surface.

 

He burst out of the water in an explosion of spray, his body catapulting almost entirely out of the lake as he forced himself up with the power of his frustration.  He fell back into the lake with a loud splash, then ducked under and swam his way to the shore.

 

As soon as he had his feet beneath him he became aware of another’s presence.  There was the telltale tingling over his skin that let him know that he was being watched, and on the air that hovered near still over the lake he detected a strong, familiar scent.

 

His breath caught in his throat even before his eyes settled upon the figure standing on the lakeshore, dark eyes the colour of obsidian watching him silently and piercingly.  He swallowed convulsively.  For some reason he was suddenly nervous, and in a way he hadn’t felt since he was a small boy.  Under that unwavering gaze old feelings rose to the surface, and entirely new ones thundered through him with their uncontrollable birth.  He became increasingly aware of his breathing, of just how fast it was.  Of the water lapping at his chest, rubbing like the coolest silk against the underside of his erect nipples, pebbled hard from the cold of the lake.  Feeling a strong, inexplicable compulsion to run, he took a step back.  Then another.  He could hear the sound of his heartbeat increasing in volume, and the scent of the man standing across from him on the shore became more and more intense.  It swirled in his nostrils, causing his heartbeat to quicken, and his entire body to tingle.  Fight or flee, fight or flee… Right now he could do neither.  He settled for watching, waiting.  There had to be a reason why he was here.

 

“Your mother was worried, brat.”

 

His voice was deceptively harsh, cold, callous, unfeeling.  Gohan could hear the annoyance beneath it, and could feel the irritation and anger that was palpable within the air.  He could feel something else, too, and heard a slight tinge in Vegeta’s voice that sounded indistinctly as though it almost didn’t belong.

 

“She called up the woman who demanded that I locate you.” 

 

Gohan took another step back as Vegeta took one forward, the other man’s dark brows drawn even lower over his eyes as they flicked from the discarded clothes on the shore back to him.  He took another step forward and his toes were close to an inch away from the lapping water.

 

“She had good reason to be worried, I see.  I did not realise that you were so close.”

 

Gohan blinked in confusion, but didn’t ask for the man across from him to elaborate.  As he was right now, he doubted if his voice would even work.  Instead, he dug his toes into the sand and soil beneath him, trying to restrain himself from taking yet another step back into deeper water.  He was anxious, and coupled with the strange way his body was behaving towards everything and nothing he was beginning to feel the most definite symptom of fear.

 

He watched warily as Vegeta shook his head minutely and spoke almost as if to himself. “It’s her blood.  You’re years too early.”

 

At this Gohan’s eyes widened, and as Vegeta’s hard gaze drifted slightly to fully meet his, he felt the persuasive compulsion to move towards him.  The dark eyes of his were definitely concealing something different within them, and as they raked over his form with an almost physical touch the veils covering them thinned and allowed a glimpse of what they were hiding to seep through.  Heat flooded abruptly through him, more powerful that any of the times before, and the near panting that was keeping his lungs filled with air hitched quickly into something far more rapid.  He curled his toes deeper into the bed of the lake.  The fear he had felt was quickly turning into something else, and his legs were almost thrumming with the urge to take illegitimate steps forward.  What little restraint he had, he knew, would very soon be lost if Vegeta continued to look at him like that.

 

“Are you ready, I wonder?”

 

Those eyes traced his exposed skin again, and Gohan could clearly see the interest and hunger that burned strongly there.  Like fingers they were dragged over the skin of his throat, his shoulders, and burned into the water below as if to imagine what was concealed there.

 

“Are you afraid?” Vegeta asked him.

 

Slowly, Gohan found himself nodding, swallowing convulsively even as his control over his legs weakened enough for them to force a shaky step forward.  But fear wasn’t all he was feeling, and he was sure now that it must be showing on his face as his legs towed him closer, then nearer still to the shore.  A wanting for something, much like how he had felt the need to touch himself earlier, agitated steadily low in his abdomen, in a place he couldn’t touch himself, but somehow instinctively knew someone else could.  Vegeta could, he knew.  He wanted him to, if he would ever wish to reach it.

 

He stopped in his shaky advance, the water level now at his waist, and watched the other man watching him.  He saw him shift his weight, his eyes lightening slightly as if contemplating something, then take a confident step forwards, his shoes sloshing in the water as he swallowed some of the distance between them.  Then he took another step forward, deeper into the lake, and a meter and a small drop in the lake’s bed became all that parted them.

 

Gohan moved again, one more step closer, and although some part of him that still remained sane amongst all his turmoil of emotions wished that he could just shake his head, tell Vegeta he didn’t understand, and fly off home, he knew now what was going on with him.  Vegeta had confirmed it for him, and he knew he would be lying to himself if he refused to acknowledge the pull his body was feeling towards the other man.  It was so strong.  He didn’t know that he could feel this intensely towards one person.  The wanting that was tugging inside him… he knew was for him.

 

It was as if Vegeta had read his thoughts for he abruptly found himself pulled into his arms. “You don’t know what you’re doing, boy.” Vegeta growled just before his mouth covered Gohan’s in a fervent kiss.

 

Gohan’s first instinct was to pull away, but his traitorous body was aching for Vegeta’s touch.  The slow stroking of his tongue enflamed a need deep within him, and he responded with an ardour that shocked him.  He arched up into his arms, opening his mouth further beneath his, then Vegeta’s strong hands were sliding over his body, searing trails of heat across his chilled skin, and he felt as though he was going to explode if his hands and tongue went any further.

 

Long minutes passed; where the stroking of Vegeta’s hands built the heat higher and higher, yet the explosion he so craved remained nowhere in sight.  Finally, Vegeta dragged his mouth away, and Gohan panted against him, his lips feeling full, and his mouth achingly empty.  He looked down at Gohan with eyes darkened with passion.  Up this close, Gohan could see flecks of grey in his iris’s, setting off the obsidian of his pupils and making what was within them appear even more deep and unreachable.

 

“You will allow me?” He asked.  Gohan stared back at him, and he knew that there was no point in lying to himself.  He wanted him, wanted him to fill the empty ache inside, wanted to feel his body against his.  Again, as if he’d read Gohan’s mind, Vegeta’s hands spanned his waist and pulled him over to the lakeshore.  Gohan licked his lips and went along willingly, allowing himself to be led out of the water and lowered down to the damp sand, then for a moment Vegeta didn’t move, but sat staring at him.

 

“I want to hear you say it.” He said.

 

Gohan shivered at the huskily spoken words, and at the way Vegeta’s eyes caressed his body as he lay half-reclined on the cool, soft sand.  As he watched, the pupils of his eyes grew large, and darkened, but he didn’t touch him.  Tension mounted.  Gohan’s heart raced.  Heat shot through him, but still Vegeta didn’t touch him.  His breath caught at the hunger he saw in his eyes.  He wanted to cry out for him to touch him, take him.  The anticipation became too much…

 

“I allow you.” He half-whispered, half-cried, then whimpered as Vegeta’s mouth captured his in a mind-shattering kiss.  At the same time Vegeta’s hands removed themselves from the sand beneath them to disregard his clothing, slipping off his shirt and sliding away the rest of what he wore.  Then he pulled Gohan against him, rolling him beneath his body, and settling his hips between the legs that parted all too easily to him.

 

Gohan moaned, and closed his eyes in rapture, his fingers clutching blindly at the back that curved above him.  There was a moment of heated air against his lips, and then their mouths met, Vegeta’s lips moving feverishly, hungrily over his.  He could feel the sharp points of his canines pricking at the sides of his tongue, and low whimpering sounds were dragged from him by the ardent stroking of Vegeta’s hands.  Then with a low growl the older man surged against him, and the distance between them was banished by his entry.

 

Gohan felt no pain.  The sucking in of an ecstatic breath was all the reaction he showed to the sudden filling of the ache he had within himself.  He paused for a moment to savour the feeling of being penetrated so deeply, then began moving his hips, quickly, rhythmically, instinctively knowing the movements of the dance.  At Gohan’s lead whatever gentleness there was fled, to be followed by a white-hot, all-consuming desire that pounded through them both, until wave after wave of maddening pleasure consumed them entirely.

 

Gohan clung to the arching body above him, his fingers digging in hard as he folded and unfolded beneath him, shuddering and crying his completion into the sweaty shoulder that trembled against his lips.  It was barely a moment later when the older man above cried out, his body snapping forwards, held rigid, and then shuddering against him as he spilled part of himself inside.

 

With a sigh the combination of many things, exhaustion mostly, Vegeta eased his elbows to bend, then sunk down slowly onto the still trembling body beneath his.  The taste of blood was on his lips, probably from the numerous mindless bites he had bestowed upon the boy’s neck, and he licked at a few of them, tasting the saltiness of his sweat and blood on his tongue.  He heard and felt the boy beneath him hum, then felt his body relax fully and he knew he’d passed into sleep.  With a final, even more exhausted sigh, Vegeta closed his eyes and followed him.

 

When Gohan awoke a few hours later to a setting sun and an evening choir, he was alone.

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