Chains of Affection

by Syldana

part 10b

He flew, blindly, haphazardly, a streak of supersonic chaos in the sky, mindless, directionless, the only destination being away. Far away. Still, the pain chased after him with dogged determination, relentless in its blood-hunt, unshakable in its tenacity. The flames of agony nipped viciously at his heels, then blazed over his bruised and battered flesh with merciless, maddening glee. It burned through every barrier, through every carefully-wrought defense, searing brutally over the far-too-recent scars of a loss so deep, so harrowing, that death had appeared a sweet, blessed relief. This pain, this blistering anguish, was too hauntingly similar. Not as intense, not as excruciating, but that was only because his soul remained intact this time—though not whole. Not complete. The pain scorched his soul, burning as if he were being slowly roasted alive. It sapped his strength—well, what little there was left after the devastating defeat he'd suffered at Kakarotto's eternally superior hands—and then he lost his center. A moment later, his world a dark mass of agony and despair, Vejiita plummeted heedlessly to the earth.

His small, tattered form crashed through thick, leafy trees and dense foliage before coming to a torturous halt on the moss-covered ground. His instinctive senses informed him he was surrounded by a lush forest—and he was thankfully alone. Beyond that, he didn't much care.

His body curled in on itself, his arms circling his middle, his cheek resting on the soft bed of cool green moss. The muscles in his face clenched tautly, his teeth gritting painfully as he attempted to hold back the brimming flood of tears threatening to spill free.

No! he raged inwardly. I will not! I will not shed a single tear over that two-faced bakayaro! I will not! I will not…

Oh, Kami…

It was no use. Yet another battle lost, the combined weight of his recent, traumatic losses too great to contain, his hot, crystalline tears the crown jewels of Kakarotto's overwhelming triumph. The powerful third-class Saiyajin had finally bested him, had conquered his prince in every way possible. Even Frieza had not defeated him so completely. For Frieza had had no claim whatsoever on his heart—on his soul.

Shimatta! How could he have been so stupid? He knew better! He knew it! But the deceitful bastard had been so damned convincing… the depths of his warm, liquid eyes making solemn vows of celestial eternity at every turn… the sweltering blanket of his flesh enveloping him utterly, whispering promises of an endless harbor of sublime heat, comfort, and mind-shattering ecstasy…

He groaned aloud, the noise sounding choked and distorted by the thick lump of grievous despair lodged achingly in his throat.

Kami, he had trusted him, had let him deep inside the hard granite shell of his heart. He had let the man inside him—had let him fuck the Prince of Saiyans stupid. And he was stupid, a poor brainless idiot too blind to see the truth before his own eyes, a fool blinded by need, shameless flattery, and his own emotional instability. How pathetic… to think that Kakarotto… that someone like Kakarotto could actually…

He was a fool to have ever believed him.

Tears of anguish and abasing defeat bled hot and clear onto the soft, cradling moss.

Goku stared down at the small, curled form of his beloved prince, doubt and uncertainty freezing him in place at the exact spot he had teleported to just a few moments before. Oh, Kami, Vejiita was in so much pain…

Only twice before had he seen the prince in such a ravaged, desolated state, pride discarded or ripped away beneath the crushing burdens of trauma and depredating circumstance; when Vejiita had realized his death and defeat at Frieza's cold, merciless hands, and when brutally faced with the loss of his wife, Bulma. And now, again. Only this time he was the cause. Oh, Kami…

"Vejiita…?" he whispered softly, tentatively, unable to keep the thick strain of guilt and longing out of his inflection.

The prince reacted instantly, his body jerking violently in surprise, his dark eyes flashing toward him and wailing soundlessly in broad, unbounded dismay. His bloodied, quaking limbs began to move, to scrape and claw at the ground, scrambling wildly in an all-out frenzy to get away.

Goku's breath hitched in panic, and he reacted automatically, without thinking. He was on him in seconds, his weight pinning the slighter man to the forest floor, Vejiita's depleted strength and injuries hampering his efforts to wriggle out from under him. Though he tried. Good Kami, did he try!

"Vejiita!"

The prince thrashed and twisted frantically in his arms, ignoring his cry, striving desperately to break free. Yet this time Goku had no intention of letting him go.

"Vejiita!" he cried louder, releasing a madly squirming arm to grasp hold of the man's chin, forcing him to meet his pleading gaze. Glistening shards of unguarded obsidian glared up at him through narrowed slits of rage, glared with all the fury the smaller Saiyajin could muster. Yet it wasn't enough to conceal the cavernous void of hurt, despair, and onerous suffering moiling within their abysmal depths, nor halt the fresh flow of liquid agony weeping ceaselessly from the corners. Not even close.

And that was when it finally struck him, the significance of the magnitude of Vejiita's anguish finally dawning, as he stared into the deep, shimmering core of it. The realization stole his breath away, and wiped his mind clean of everything else but one blaring thought. His hand drifted up from the prince's chin to dip gently into the small pool of tears gathering by his ear, then slowly traced the shiny trail back up to its source, wonder and amazement stealing over his features as the moisture slid warmly beneath his fingertips.

"Vejiita…" he breathed in soft, marveling awe, "…all of this… for me?"

There was an infinite pause, an endless moment of pure clarity, total illumination, where a profound and intensive truth passed wordlessly between their frozen, interlocking stares. Then the Prince of the Saiyajin trembled beneath his touch, beneath his sharp, penetrating gaze, tears falling harder as the rabid struggle for freedom resumed.

Too late.

It was far too late, now. He had already seen the truth behind the raging ache in the man's luminous black eyes, a truth miraculous and splendid.

Vejiita was his.

Despite the pain and animosity.

That doesn't really matter… at least, it won't in the end.

Despite their ferocious battle and Vejiita's bitter defeat.

My parents argued all the time—and I'm talking huge, all-out wars here—but Papa never left…

In spite of everything, Vejiita was his. The prince belonged to him, the same as he belonged to Vejiita.

You are mated.

He was his mate.

Saiyajin mate for life.

As he had gazed into the prince's tear-glossed eyes, that was the great and wondrous truth he had seen smoldering within… and Vejiita had been unable to deny it. The prince had, indeed, given him everything.

You bear his mark…

Vejiita was his.

Mine…

The next thing Goku knew was the feel of his teeth sinking deep into hot, sinewy flesh, and the taste of thick blood washing over his tongue with a rich, heavenly delectation he had never before encountered. A moan of supreme delight rumbled low in his throat as he drank ravenously from the sweet, scarlet fountain of Saiyajin royalty, his arms coiling tightly around the bare, sculptured torso of the writhing prince, drawing his silken-smooth warmth close against him. He felt the man arch up within his embrace, his hands raking frenziedly across his back, leaving thin trails of oozing crimson in their turbulent wake. Then those same hands dove into his riotous hair, fisting tightly around his spikes, then began yanking and pulling furiously to break the biting lip-lock he had on the man's neck. Goku merely purred in response, the divine nectar overriding all else but the pleasure thrumming through his being as he claimed the Saiyan prince for his own. The straining hands slowed in their persistent tugging and finally ceased altogether in the unavailing effort to dislodge him, yet they still remained tightly clenched within his hair as Goku lapped blissfully at the bleeding wound.

Good Kami, he tasted so good…

He gave the savory source of warm, liquid nirvana one final lick before leaning back to gaze at his handsome new mate, love and desire surging marvelously throughout his soul. Vejiita's wide eyes met his instantly, the glaring anger all but vanished from their inky depths, having been replaced with an equally radiant gleam of anxious disconcertion. Goku smiled tenderly down at him, his chest vibrating with a deep, throaty purr of gratified pleasure. The man's thin, sensuous lips fumbled silently a moment before finally finding some semblance of a voice.

"Wh-what game is this?" he whispered hoarsely, dark eyes churning wildly with wary suspicion. "What are you playing at now, kisama?"

Goku's smile deepened. "No game… I'm not playing, Vejiita," he murmured softly, mouth lowering to sweep gently across his lips.

The prince jerked his head instantly away from him in alarm, his expression growing fierce once more. "Then what are you doing?" he inquired harshly.

"Well, unless I'm doing it wrong, I'm claiming you as my mate," he returned with a matter-of-fact nod.

Glittering eyes narrowed sharply, and acutely scrutinized every inch of his face. "Why now, as opposed to before?" he asked curtly, glowering darkly with accusation. "Am I more acceptable now that you've defeated me? You said you acknowledged me as your prince, but that didn't sit well with you, did it? You lied to get me to claim you, Kakarotto! You—"

Goku's fingers gently halted the angry tirade, pressing lightly against the prince's soft lips. "Vejiita," he admonished quietly, "you know that's not true. I have wanted you as my mate since that very first taste. I never lied to you. I just…" He paused to heave a small sigh. "I just didn't understand, Vejiita. I didn't know the bite meant anything. I didn't know until Trunks explained it to me just a few minutes ago."

The prince blinked, then sneered in contemptuous disbelief. "What do you mean you didn't know? Even you couldn't be that stupid! I asked you if you understood, and you made it perfectly clear that you did!"

"Ah," he returned with a brief nod. "I thought you meant the trust you offered me in allowing me to love you like that. I never dreamed that you had… that you had offered yourself, Vejiita."

The large warrior sighed again, and shook his head slightly. "Vejiita, why would you think that I'd know about this Saiyan mating ritual? I was raised here on Earth. How, then, could I possibly know what your bite meant?"

Vejiita blinked again, only this time he frowned, deeply and darkly. "What are you talking about?" he questioned, his brow furrowing in disconcertion. "Bulma certainly knew well enough to mark me in return, and she was raised here on this crude, backwater planet, as well—and she was not even Saiyan! How could you not know what that meant?"

Goku's eyebrows rose slightly in surprise. "Bulma knew? But I…" He floundered a moment, slowly processing his words. When their meaning finally sank in, he felt his confidence abruptly deflate and wane. "Ah," he murmured softly, casting his gaze downward "Bulma always was smarter than me…" When his eyes lifted once more, they were awash with unshed tears.

"I'm sorry, Vejiita," he said, his voice low and thick with sorrow. "I'm sorry I hurt you so bad. I didn't mean to. I guess I really am that stupid 'cause I didn't know what was going on. If I had known… Kami! That's all I've wanted these past few weeks! Everything else was perfect, just the thought that it wasn't going to last…" He lowered his head until it came to warm rest upon the prince's shoulder, the tears dropping lightly onto his bare skin.

"I didn't want to fight you, Vejiita. I didn't want to defeat you… not like this. I love you… all I want to do is love you…"

Vejiita stared blankly up at the towering treetops that loomed overhead through the jumbled black spikes of Goku's hair. The tall warrior's fair features were pressed warmly against his shoulder, his ragged breath rolling hot and damp over his cold, abraded flesh. His hands were still absently clenched within those wild ebony locks as his mind endeavored to grasp everything the man had just said—and to read the truth behind it all. He would not be deceived again. And yet…

It all rang true, just as everything about Kakarotto had always seemed entirely genuine. Could he have really misunderstood his intention? Did the man truly not understand the blood ritual? He was Saiyajin. He was also raised on Earth, but Bulma…

She had bitten him directly after he had marked her, and he had not explained the correct protocol to her. She had simply done it. He had never questioned how she knew; he thought it merely natural that she had. Had Bulma's instincts been more acute than Kakarotto's, a true Saiyajin? Or had she simply returned his bite because… because she was always striving to match him, to surpass him, even? If so, then that would mean she had not known the significance of the ritual until afterward, after the bonding… and so, perhaps, neither had Kakarotto.

Vejiita's eyes scrolled slowly shut into a pained wince. Kuso…

If that were indeed true, then he had just made a complete ass of himself. He had fought and lost to the powerful warrior yet again, and to top off that ghastly humiliation, he had broken down and wept in front of the man—also again. And Kakarotto had clearly discerned the reasons behind his infernal betraying tears. Shimatta!

Shimatta…

And yet, that would mean the large Saiyajin had not rejected his offer—had not rejected him. It would mean…

Well, unless I'm doing it wrong, I'm claiming you as my mate…

His mate. The wound on his neck still throbbed with an aching soreness and the giddy remembrance of searing heat from the man's sharp, puncturing kiss. Kakarotto was his mate. The blood ritual was complete—in spite of unschooled innocence and mindless misconceptions. In spite of his own humbling defeat. To Vejiita's momentary surprise, that defeat no longer stung with the same harrowing severity. Perhaps because it had been no less than he'd expected.

Even as he'd viciously challenged the other warrior, he had already known the outcome of the battle deep in his heart. He had threatened the planet, itself, because he knew Kakarotto loved nothing more than he did that. The earth-raised Saiyajin would do anything to protect it; his power and perseverance would rise to the occasion—and it had. He had fought the man with all of his strength and cunning, yet he had known Kakarotto would counter everything he threw at him—he also knew that was the only reason he'd been able to attack the taller warrior without reservation. Despite his fury and wrathful posturing, the prince could not have hurt him—not seriously.

Yes, perhaps that was why… or perhaps it was simply because all of that indomitable will and insuperable power, all of that wild, breathtaking perfection, was now his.

Mine…

His grip eased around the thick, raven spikes, only to curl more fiercely, more possessively, around his broad shoulders. Vejiita turned his face into the lush velvet of his hair, his nose submerging deep into the soft, fragrant warmth, to breathe in Kakarotto's wondrously rich scent, even as his arms pulled the man's large, warm body snugly against him. Oh, Kami, Kakarotto…

The man's head popped up in abrupt astonishment, his eyes wide and peering anxiously down at him with a fervent glimmer of hope. The prince wove his fingers through the man's hair once more, gently holding his beautiful face between his palms, his own eyes burning with the ardent intensity of his emotions.

"Vejiita?" he whispered softly, hope now a luminous glow across his countenance.

"No, Kakarotto," he murmured back, "no more words. Words are inefficient. There will be no more misconceptions, no more fool misunderstandings. We are Saiyajin, and we are bonded. Know who I am, and know what you are to me."

And with that, the prince dropped all barriers.

Goku gasped aloud as Vejiita's deep and intensive feelings abruptly poured through his awareness, flooding swiftly and keenly into his soul, his strong, passionate spirit exploding gloriously throughout his being. Yet the sensation was very different from the last time the prince's soul had been his to explore. The pain and grief that had copiously saturated the smaller man before had faded, was now merely a dull, hollow ache obscured behind all the rest of his vibrant, whirling emotions. Emotions that blazed with a torrid fire both new and glaringly bright. Emotions that were wrapped solely and utterly around himself, entwined throughout every part of Goku's being.

They burned under his skin with a sultry warmth heretofore unimaginable. They spoke to him, wordless phrases of ardor, affection and need, of a profound, marveling awe, the highest regard, and a deep, unswerving devotion. They fervently reaffirmed what the shimmering depths of the man's eyes had already revealed…

Vejiita was his.

Kami…

Vejiita loved him.

Moisture gathered like liquefied diamonds in his eyes. The prince was right… words were inefficient. His heart surged toward his resplendent mate with a vast and powerful burst of rejoining love, sensing it impact deep within the man's soul.

Vejiita's eyes went wide as he gazed up into the shining visage of his new mate, as he felt the dynamic force of his emotions vibrate deep within the core his being, warming him instantly from the inside out. All lingering doubts and suspicions about the man melted away as the heat of Goku's love blazed out from the prince's center to go streaming through every corner of his soul. The force was all-encompassing and astonishingly powerful as it rolled through him in wave after wave of perfervid adoration. And behind that force, the pure, blinding light of his flawless spirit.

As the dazzling radiance washed over his being, everything became so extraordinarily clear. The rightness, the veracity of the moment—this single, miraculous moment—sang to every molecule within his being, sang and was harmonized by the answering aria of his pure and perfect mate. Yet he did not feel the least bit diminished by Kakarotto's pure-hearted perfection. On the contrary. He felt uplifted. He felt the soothing warmth of complete and total acceptance, of boundless, unmitigated love, as it hugged and surrounded, drawing him up into the bright, eternal realm of transcendental glory. Vejiita grasped onto that brilliance with both hands, hands that were still deeply buried within luxurious black spikes, and drew it close.

Lips met and locked, tongues dipping and swirling through ambrosial heat, tasting and consuming the luscious, exhilarating flavor of the other. Throats rumbled and purred with excited bliss as the kiss intensified, as their souls continued to caress and merge with warm, excruciating delight. Ki flared and tattered clothing burned away, the paltry restriction incinerating around their flesh, leaving them both deliciously bare as their bodies pressed and rubbed with silken relish. Legs parted and twined in eager anticipation, the need for physical foreplay already overwhelmingly satisfied by the soft, sensual strokes of mind and spirit.

With a low groan of pleasure, Goku eased himself slowly into the exquisitely taut heat of his mate, eliciting a deep echoing moan from the man beneath him as he tantalizingly caressed his inner flesh. There was no question about the larger Saiyan's apparent position of dominance; for it was not that at all. Rather, it was a mutual agreement spawned instantaneously from necessity and expediency only. Necessary due to the injured state of Vejiita's body, and expedient because it no longer mattered—not in the least. Their bond was now joyously unfettered; their souls complete. Every touch, every stroke, every earth-shattering kiss was shared and experienced by both of their enmeshed minds. Their spiraling passions soared quickly and feverishly to blistering new heights, circulating marvelously between them as they each feasted hungrily on the other's mounting pleasure. Their bodies writhed and danced to a primitive Saiyajin waltz, their hips rocking and gliding together in wild, rapturous abandon.

Goku's hand curled warmly around the hard, swollen shaft of his mate, feeling the heady sensations of quivering enjoyment roll through their bond as he began to deftly stroke the thick length. They had made love numerous times now, yet nothing had prepared him for the overpowering scope and splendor of this. It went beyond all possible words. It was only himself and Vejiita—and a vast, inundating tidal wave of love and overwhelming pleasure that engulfed them both entirely.

He moaned his mate's name like a breathless mantra, like a prayer suffused with profound thankfulness and gratitude, and heard his own name murmured back, deep and husky, each syllable a testament of fierce joy and ferocious need. His body responded instantly to that soft, venerating cry, thrusting and stroking faster and more pointedly, their entangled awareness revealing every sensitive place, every pleasurable area that was sumptuously caressed.

With senses spinning out of control, he could feel their combined fires straining and ascending toward the rapidly-nearing pinnacle of ecstasy. As one they brushed up against the sweet, celestial apex; then felt each other virtually explode into bright, spectacular shards of lurching, pulsating rapture. A thundering roar of soul-shattering euphoria tore painfully from his throat, paralleled almost precisely by the savage howl of his mate hammering deafeningly against his eardrum as their bodies quaked and jolted convulsively against one another. Then they fell into silence, the only sounds in the stillness of the forest the distant chirps and chitters of exotic creatures, and their own labored breathing.

Vejiita's eyelids fluttered and then sluggishly opened, slowly becoming aware of himself and the unfamiliar surroundings—and the sensation of a warm, wet tongue lapping gently across collarbone. However, a soft moan was the only the noise he could make as he tried to voice a question. The light, pleasing sensation abruptly halted, and the prince soon found himself gazing dazedly up into the bright black eyes of his mate. As he basked momentarily in their brilliant depths, he swiftly recalled everything that had transpired between them.

Kakarotto…

His voice had been raw from all that he had endured and was now lost completely after that last scream of primal ecstasy, yet he knew that his mate could hear him regardless. The larger Saiyan smiled in response, love radiating warmly from his handsome features.

Vejiita… you thought I would be disappointed… and you call me stupid.

A wry smile quirked his cheek. Hn… and you are hardly that at all. Yet I am not like you, Kakarotto…

No, you're not. The other man agreed, his fingers tenderly brushing the smooth planes of his face. And thank Kami for it. I love you, Vejiita… I love you for who you are…

The prince studied every aspect of his open, honest countenance meticulously for several long minutes, then slowly nodded to himself. His expression grew sober as a thought occurred to him.

There is something you must do for me, Kakarotto.

Anything, Vejiita.

You must not die again.

Dark lashes blinked in surprise, and then sudden understanding dawned. I won't leave you, Vejiita… but how can anyone know when it is their time? Are you asking me to become immortal?

The prince solemnly held his gaze. You have made such a decision before… and you chose death. I want your promise that you will not die, not before me… and no, I no longer desire immortality.

A small frown crinkled his brow as he pondered the request. I promise I will do my best, Vejiita. I promise that I'll do everything in my power to be with you forever. Will that do?

Vejiita considered him a moment longer, and then nodded. It will have to, I suppose. Then he sighed wearily, his eyes closing as he grew increasingly aware of the numerous aches and pains of his body. He found himself curled within his mate's gentle embrace seconds later.

I'll take you home, Vejiita. Maybe the senzu are finally ready.

Hn. I am Saiyajin, baka… I will heal.

I know… Yet the prince could feel the mild amusement underlying that remark.

And just you wait until I am, he added, his mouth curving into a smirk. The next time we fight, I intend to kick your ass.

He could feel the love and admiration of his mate wreathing around him, holding him as warmly and snugly as his powerful arms.

Ah… I know that too, Vejiita.

The End