Round Robin
# 1 (Sorry I can't think of a title)
Chapter 1
By: Kichi
NC-17 Lemon
content! (mmm... lemony)
Vegeta awoke with a soft groan. He was so tired but never
managed to get more than a few hours sleep. Each night as he lay
down to rest his thoughts were chaos.
He had just
died at Frieza's hands. Growing up it had been his greatest
fear. And it had happened. He dreamt of it almost nightly
and always woke gasping for air and trembling like a small child.
But his lack of sleep had been slowly catching up with him and all his
limbs felt like lead. His eyes had begun a habit of drifting
close and then all his muscles would spasm, leaving him wide awake and
gasping.
And every time he lay down to rest his mind had a way of wandering down
dark paths seldom trodden in waking hours. He was beginning to
hate the vulnerability that claimed him during sleep. If there
was only some way- something he could do so he wouldn't dream.
But it was a useless thought and kindled faint anger.
The Saiyan no Ouji- afraid of dreams? Ha! It was embarrassing.
He lay down, stretching as he did. How long had it been
since he'd gotten proper rest? The induced sleep of the pods
didn't count either. It was unnatural and when he woke from it he
found himself unable to sleep for days. But then again, it had
helped when on a purging mission.
But it had been months since the last time he'd purged a
planet. In fact, it had been months since he'd destroyed
anything. He'd met up with some resistance on his search for
Kakarotto and he had taken his sweet time in obliterating them.
He hadn't even used ki, but his bare hands as he fought all who stood
in his way and tore them to bloody shreds.
He had never killed another in such a fashion. He had
fought hand to hand combat many times, but never had there been such
wrath behind each action. As if all the hate and fury he'd felt
in his life had come pouring out with each blow. As they screamed
in agony, for death or mercy, his face was a mask of pure rage.
He had scarcely enjoyed it. But it had to be done. It was
the only way he was able to cope with the vast amount of grief and
anger inside of him. It was the only outlet he'd ever been
given. But he knew that even that would come to and end and he
would have nothing. And then what would he do?
As if it was the last fight he'd ever see, he took his time and
killed with grace and ease. And those who saw the hate in his
eyes, the lack of mercy of any kind knew that their end had come and it
would not be easy.
He'd dealt casual blows to stun them and had snapped arms and
legs with no difficulty. The agonized spasms and pitiful screams
rang hollow in his ears and he drank in the sight, but it did not
quicken anything in him.
After everyone was dead the night sounds gradually came back and
he sat among to ruin and listened to the strange cries of the alien
creatures in the forests. He grew calm and his face was blank as
a death mask. He surveyed the scene around him and disbelief
dawned in his eyes.
"Did I do this?" he said aloud. He looked down at himself
and leapt to his feet when he saw that he was drenched in blood, the
smell did not intoxicate him with lust as it did with the blood of his
own species. He covered his nose but it was too late and he bent
double, retching on scattered remains. He tore off his
shirt and cringed feeling cold blood drag across his flesh. He
wiped his face with the top half of his body suit, cast it to the
ground, and took a step back, then another.
He dragged several heaving breaths through clenched teeth.
Killing with ki was so much different than this! The stench of
the blood was about to make him sick again. He returned to
his ship and sat for a moment in silence before starting the
engines. He closed his eyes and sighed. His anger was spent
at last.
He was hollow and felt nothing.
He had headed back to earth shortly after. He felt a
certain measure of calm but it was not to be mistaken with peace or
serenity. It was acceptance and also apathy, but it
wouldn't take long for all the old hostility to return.
Especially on Chikyuu.
It was difficult,-to say the least- to comprehend the motives
behind the actions of nearly everyone he encountered on the backwater
planet. He was used to hatred and disdain. Everyone he'd
known had held him in contempt with the exception of Radditz and Nappa.
Now it was different. They feared him, which he didn't mind in
the slightest. But they didn't treat him how he was accustomed to
be treated. They spoke politely to him for one- that was
disconcerting to him, forcing him to watch them all and try to discern
their motives.
But inevitably he failed. He couldn't guess what they
thought as they offered him food and clothing and shelter. He
warily took all that was offered as if it was a poisonous snake in
disguise ready to bite.
And then, as if that wasn't enough, he was beginning to feel guilt of
all things. As they gave in to his every request and demand, he
began to feel remorse. They didn't really do it out of
fear. They did it out of kindness. Had they complied out of
fear, it would have been easier to bear. But they gave him
anything without complaint, and Vegeta was beginning to feel the weight
of his debt. They never said anything, they never indicated that
they wished to be reimbursed for their aid. But how could he not,
and still call himself a Prince? He had been raised to demands
things of others, but he was not their Prince and they were under no
obligation to him.
And then there was Bulma. Oddly enough, the woman made his
guilt seem like a silly idea. She was the only one who treated
him like he was used to. She fought with him and disagreed with
him on a daily basis. And her arguments were like as not, usually
flawless. He could hardly get one up on her without losing his
temper and screaming in rage. And for her, that was a stroke of
victory. She seemed to enjoy nothing better then to enrage the
last Saiyan Prince. And she was good at it. She knew all
the right buttons to push and did so indiscriminately. His
threats of violence were ever falling on deaf ears. He would
bully and insult and she would laugh or smile and wave her hand as if
everything he said meant nothing.
She was either very brave or very stupid, he couldn't figure out
which. But, sadly, he was leaning toward brave. In
the short time he'd known her, he'd seen her take scraps of metal and
turn them into astonishing weapons. She couldn't be stupid and do
things like that. He felt like an idiot watching her do it.
"Just a hobby." She'd quipped as he tried not to let his amazement
show. He had foolishly commented about its working ability and
with an all too eager grin she had shown him just how well it worked-
sending him to his knees with an electrically-charged blast. He'd
turned to glare at her with wide eyes and saw that maddening
smile. He had drawn the battle line then. How could she
think to send him to his knees? A weak onna like her! In less
then a second he'd snatched the weapon from her hand and crushed it
before her stunned gaze. He gripped her arms harder than
necessary, needing to hear that squeak of pain and see that glimmer of
fear in her eyes. He'd lowered his voice to force her to listen
and told her: if she ever crossed that line again, he would give her a
slow, painful death.
She had stepped away warily when he released her and left the room
without a word. But he had seen her eyes well up with tears just
before she sped away. She wouldn't make the same mistake
twice.
He hoped.
Odd as it sounded, he didn't hate her. Even when she
insulted him or attempted to knock him down a peg or two. She was
the only person who didn't seem to care if he was happy or not.
And if anything, her wrath had increased after that incident.
But she had never attempted to use any weapon of her making on him
again. He wondered how long she could restrain herself. But
she had amazingly. And then he had left after hearing that
Kakarotto was alive and training in space. Judging by the fact
that he never appeared until the battle was half over, he wasn't going
to even wait for an enemy to appear. He was going to find the
fool and somehow- somehow he would get that idiot to tell him how he'd
ascended.
For months he had searched and he'd found no trace of him on any
of the inhabited planets between Namek and Earth. And he'd given
up too easily. He knew that Kakarotto would return to earth, but
he couldn't have just stayed and waited.
Anger had been brewing inside him for too long. He couldn't
unleash it on Earth- that was plain. He hadn't really thought of it at
first, but he had needed to get away from the goddamned tranquility of
earth.
His arguments with the woman were barely an outlet, if anything,
they only added more strain. He might not hate her, but
part of him always wanted to hurt her a little when she got too
opinionated.
He sat up suddenly, hearing the female in question moving about
in the kitchen. She had forced him into the shower the other day
when he'd first seen her, ignoring her insipid mate's challenge and
daring to announce that he smelled! So he'd run out of water on
the ship! Was that his fault? He couldn't read her
intelligible writing! He could only understand it as it was
spoken. And as of yet he had not attempted to learn it, but he
would if he felt it necessary. So far it hadn't been. He
made it back in one piece.
But other than that, she hadn't talked to him, but she had laughed when
he'd shown up in the ugly clothes she'd provided. He owed
her a payback. He rose and glanced at the clock. It was
early morning still, but if she was up and about it would be the
perfect time to harass her. She was always in a foul mood when
she first awoke. Especially if it was earlier than usual.
She stiffened as he addressed her.
"Holy shit, you look damn scary woman." He was hardly lying
either. Her mop of hair was a tangled mess of erratic curls,
mascara was smudged under her eyes which were barely open.
"Don't talk to me." She snapped.
"Rough night?" he asked, not bothering to stifle a laugh.
He had heard her and Yamcha arguing earlier, about what he hadn't heard
and didn't care. But after the fool had stormed off he'd heard
her crying pathetically. It had amused him that she wasted tears
on such an ass.
"Fuck off." She growled. He smiled.
"Hey, it's your fault, don't be mad at me. Your the one
that fucks him." He said with a mean little grin. She drew in a
sharp breath and turning quickly, she slapped him. It hadn't
hurt, physically. But for some reason he felt that sharp,
annoying pain in his chest. It was guilt, he was not blind to the
emotion. But he had successfully submerged it for years.
Why it had gained dominance now, he was uncertain. He stared at
her, his face blank with surprise. She took one step back, but he
grabbed her before she could take another. She froze in his
grip and fear blossomed in her eyes.
"What are
you thinking foolish onna? You wish me to end your
suffering? I'd rather let you be miserable." He said.
"I'm sorry!" burst from her quivering lips and his eyebrows rose.
"Why? Because you don't want to die?" she nodded quickly
and he scowled, shoving her to the floor and climbing on top of her.
"You need to use your head little one. I thought you were
so smart.." he trailed off realizing she was far too terrified to be
angry by his insults. The anger vanished from his face and he
untangled a few strands of her hair with his fingers. "Bulma." He
said softly and felt her start in surprise underneath him. "I
didn't think I'd need to do this, but you've left me no choice.
You can't hit me."
"Vegeta, please-" she whimpered.
"Shh. Don't worry. It won't hurt. I suppose I owe you
that much for giving me a gravity room." His hands went to her
shoulders and his fingers brushed her throat. She shivered and
closed her eyes and he saw tears slide down her skin, falling into her
hair.
"No.." she moaned.
"I tried to let you get away with it, but that wasn't enough for
you. I didn't want you to hate me. And I obviously can't trust you."
She sobbed and he lightly placed his hands on her lips.
"Vegeta. Please, I'm sorry." She said her lips moving on his
fingers.
"I know. So am I." He had to act, but he couldn't.
Her tears were affecting him in a way they never had before. He
didn't want to hurt her. But what else could he do? No one
hurt him like she did and lived. He raised his hand and ki began
to glow in his palm. Bulma began to thrash beneath him but his
knees pinned her elbows to the ground and his weight was too much to
throw off. She tried kicking him, but probably hurt herself more
than him. He shook his head and with a sigh the ki vanished from
his hand. Bulma felt it disappear and slowly opened her eyes to
see Vegeta staring down at her sadly. He backed up so
that his knees were no longer on her, but did not let her up.
"Why are
you doing this to me?" he said softly. Her eyes widened
comically.
"Me-? What?" she gaped.
"You know what I mean." He said softly his eyes troubled.
"Why are you trying to hurt me? Why when you know what I can do
to you?" Her gaze mirrored his own suddenly, as sadness filled
them.
"Too see if you feel at all." She said quietly.
"I do." He replied, gazing at her parted lips. "I don't
like it." He then stared at her breasts, covered by thin material and
poised between his thighs. His eyes rose to meet hers again. He
saw not pity in her gaze, that he couldn't have endured. It was
empathy in her gaze, and that silent understanding made him
pause. "But what can I do about it? I can't even-" he
stopped, nearly admitting that he hadn't the will to end her
life. A further awareness dawned in her eyes as if she guessed at
something he couldn't.
"Do what you have to Vegeta." She said, her voice a bare whisper.
"Alright." He said with a shrug and his lips descended on
hers. He felt her tremble for a moment but to his surprise and
secret delight she melted against him and pulled him closer. The
kiss grew more fevered until they were forced to end it, each panting
for air. They regarded each other silently for a moment and when
her small hands ran reassuringly through his hair he closed his eyes
with a sigh as his head lowered and tore open her robe and began to
kiss and lick each breast stopping at each nipple and drawing it in his
mouth, his tongue rolling around it as Bulma softly sighed. He
felt her shiver and quickly picked her up, her arms slid around his
neck, and she lay her head on his chest with a soft sigh.
Kami he didn't even recognize himself at the moment! How did she
manage to kindle this passion in him? Had it been there all
along? Had Radditz ever seen it?
He checked a sigh thinking of the dead soldier. He had lied
when he'd told Nappa it would be a waste of time to wish him
back. Then again, he'd also lied to Bulma when he'd told her she
was ugly. He shook his head, he missed Radditz. But
apparently he had Bulma now. And the ache somehow lessened.
He dropped her on his bed and she bounced with a grin. Then
her gaze grew concerned and she leapt to her feet and ran into the
bathroom. He stared at the closed door in confusion as he heard
water running. She returned moments later with all traces of
makeup gone and her hair brushed into shining ringlets. He
blinked in amazement and felt himself growing hard in response as she
slowly dropped all barriers between them and flounced to the bed.
She smiled at the half-wondering expression on his face and planted her
lips firmly on his cheek.
"I have a confession to make, Vegeta." Bulma said. His eyes
narrowed slightly, but the corner of his mouth slid up.
"Which is-?"
"I've wanted to do this for awhile now." She grinned at his
surprised expression and poked him. "Don't act so modest, your
beautiful." She said, and laughed when his cheeks stained red.
"It's true, hasn't anyone ever told you?"
He shook his head and she frowned.
"Well, it's probably that attitude of yours. Scares everyone away
before they could tell you." She grinned and lowered her head and
planted her soft lips of his chest and then nipped his skin between her
teeth lightly. She heard him gasp and was more than pleased with
his reaction. He shoved her back and ground his hips into hers as
his lips captured her own. Her breath was stolen from her as his
lips claimed every inch of her skin, and he recklessly tore off his
clothing (ripping a few articles in his haste).
She moaned through clenched teeth as his fingers slipped between her
thighs and began to tease her quivering bud. He bent over her and
his lips and tongue replaced his fingers and he gripped her thighs to
keep them spread. He cries grew louder and loud and then ceased
altogether for a brief moment before a scream ripped from her throat
and she lifted herself off the mattress. He cries died to moans
that rattled out between chattering teeth. He only gave her a
moment before sliding into her warm with a soft groan that was easily
covered by her cry. He hesitated a moment, even though it
was almost impossible, but it sounded as if he'd hurt her.
"Are you ok?" he breathed.
"Yes!" she gasped. He pulled out slowly and then thrust
into her again, relishing in the crazed moan that drew from her
trembling lips. He began to quicken the pace and grabbed her
ankles bending them back until her knees were almost touching her
ears. Her cries grew louder and louder until they were almost
hurting his ears. But he savored the pain. If he went deaf
listening to that- the hell with it, it wouldn't be so bad.
She tensed
up again and her eyes were screwed shut, her teeth clenched. He
groaned in ecstasy, thrusting faster and harder. And again she
raised her voice, howling in euphoria and his soft moan as he reached
release was soft in her ear but she heard it and clung to him tightly
as her orgasm ebbed.
His head
fell on her shoulder as their chests heaved against one another for a
brief moment. Then he rolled onto his side, taking her with him,
still inside of her. She shivered and ran her hands up and down
his sides. He gasped and his whole body spasmed. He stared
at her with wide eyes and she tried again on his left side. He
relaxed, but he stared at her apprehensively. She smiled and ran
her hand up his right side.
"Stop!" he gasped, his muscles in his side tightening under her
hand.
"Are you ticklish?" Bulma giggled.
"No! It starts to hurt after a minute, stop, I'm telling you," he
said pulling her hand away and slowly relaxing.
"What? That doesn't make sense." She said.
"I-" he frowned, searching for words. "It's like the
muscles are all tightened up and -" he shrugged. "I don't know it
.. hurts." She poked him in the same spot and he jerked again,
his eyes wide.
"Stop it,
damnit!" he said quietly.
She frowned
trying to remember what little Gohan had told her about Vegeta's
death. As the realization hit her she felt foolish. He'd
been hit in the same place over and over again, on his back, near his
spine.
"I'm sorry." She said softly. "What if I just-" she lay her
hand gently on his side and he recoiled again, yet she could feel him
trying to relax as his flesh quivered under her hand. She drew
back with a smile, caressed his cheek, and then snuggled closer to him,
shivering. She felt more than heard him sigh as he wrapped his
arm around her and drew a blanket up to their waists.
"You wanted to see me sir?"
"Yes, you imbecile! Forty minutes ago! Do you have a reason
why I shouldn't kick the shit out of you?" Vegeta snarled.
"Yes my Lord." Radditz replied, his head bowed. Vegeta
glared at the tall Saiyan's bowed head and threw his hand up in disgust.
"So I'm to guess what it is then? Pick it out of your mind? What
the fuck is your problem you ass?" Vegeta's voice grew in volume with
each insult. He had just received a blistering admonition by
Frieza with a rather large audience all because Radditz had disappeared
when he was supposed to be at Vegeta's side awaiting orders from Frieza.
"Ouji Sama, please. I wish not to speak of it." Radditz said
softly, his eyes downcast. Confusion swiftly replaced the rage
burning through his veins. They were in Vegeta's rooms and he was
lucky enough to have no surveillance equipment in his room. He
checked every so often, just to be sure and had just recently.
Radditz would not get off so easy.
"You put my ass on the line today. I am your Prince, you
fool. You had better tell me what it was that was so important
that you disobeyed a direct order from me." Radditz flinched and
swallowed noisily then mumbled something too low even for Vegeta's
acute hearing.
"Speak up,
fool! I can't read lips either!" Vegeta snarled.
"I've begun the mating cycle." Radditz mumbled. Vegeta
blanched and took a step back, and another as Radditz rose to his
feet. The taller Saiyan's dark eyes bored into Vegeta's as he
took in the young Saiyan's scent.
"Then get the hell out of here!" Vegeta yelled, an edge of panic
in his voice.
"I can't." He replied simply, "I must have you." Vegeta's
eyes narrowed and he raised a glowing hand.
"If you value your pathetic ass-" Radditz tackled him and dealt
him a sharp blow to the head. Vegeta's vision blurred but he
began to struggle regardless, but his movements were too sluggish and
suddenly he felt a jolt of pleasure rush up his spine. He gasped
in bliss before he could stop himself and realized that Radditz was
fondling his tail. His cheeks stained crimson and for a moment
his struggles ceased. Radditz pulled him close to his chest,
purring as he did. His fingers twined around Vegeta's tail and
slowly stroked from base to tip. Vegeta- who had never felt
anything but pain from hands on his tail was frozen in place, eyes wide
and astonished.
Radditz growled low in his throat and took his stillness as
compliance. Truth be told he would have preferred a
struggle. The scent of Vegeta's young Saiyan flesh was
tantalizing his senses, working him into a frenzy of lust. He
kissed and nibbled the bare throat before him, not noticing that Vegeta
was still statue-like in his motionlessness.
Vegeta felt the hot mouth moving across his skin and the hands petting
his tail and sighed softly. He had yet to experience pleasure
such as this, but dark memories were resurfacing with these simple acts
and he was frozen in place unable to stop or assist Radditz in
anyway. His armor was removed with care, but his garments were
not. When he heard cloth ripping icy claws plunged into his heart
and he tore out of Radditz's grip with a howl.
Radditz- misunderstanding completely- lunged at the young prince with a
savage snarl of delight, thinking the boy was teasing.
But Vegeta was nearing a state of panic. He had only been touched
by one other and it had not been in love or even lust but hatred and
dominance. His master had plundered his flesh and left too many wounds
to count. And now Radditz was trying to do the same.
Radditz's lunge caught the young Saiyan off guard
and they fell to the floor in a heap. He began to tear off the
rest of Vegeta's clothes when he received a powerful blow to the face.
Not the playful slap he might have expected. He found himself on
his back, staring at the ceiling. The haze of lust slowly faded
and he noticed Vegeta scrambling to his feet, his breath coming too
quickly.
Radditz frowned as an unfitting emotion hit him, the moon-fever slipped
even further away when he realized just what was going on. His
gaze switched to the source of the foreign emotions and saw Vegeta
sitting away from him, trying to piece together his shirt with shaking
hands. An even closer look forced his eyes wide in shock
and horror. His eyes followed a tear as it slid down his prince's
smooth cheek followed by another, and another.
"Ouji Sama?" his voice came out a soft whisper. He had
never seen Vegeta shed a tear. Not even when Frieza humiliated
him and beat him senseless in front of the whole crew. Vegeta
seemed not to hear him. He balled his fists, the scraps of his
torn shirt in them and he hissed something, sniffled, and shot to his
feet. "Ouji Sama!" Radditz cried and wrapped his arms around
Vegeta's knees, sending him to the floor again.
"LET GO!" Vegeta shrieked, aiming to strike the older
warrior. But as he locked eyes with his subordinate the tears
evaporated and he seemed to awake from a dream. "Don't you dare
touch me ever again!" he said quietly. "I don't want anyone
touching me." Radditz frowned in surprise and then he caught a
flash of Frieza's face, twisted in cruel mockery and deviant
pleasure. And it all made sense.
He knew it! He'd always
suspected, but amazingly, the knowledge never showed on his face.
He'd always suspected. Frieza rarely took his eyes off of Vegeta
when he was near the Ice-Jinn. He was beautiful after all.
And then about a year previous, whispers had begun to circulate that
Vegeta's shrieks had rung through the halls on certain nights, and the
days following he was nowhere to be found. Everyone knew what it
meant but no one dared say anymore.
"Vegeta. I don't mean to hurt you. I must have
you! But not like this.." he trailed off sadly.
Vegeta said
nothing. He sat like something carved of stone, but his eyes
darted back and forth between Radditz and the door. "Come to me
my Prince. I swear I will not hurt you... Unless you desire it."
He said with a soft smile. Vegeta opened his mouth but nothing
came out, but he didn't run to the door either. Radditz could see
the emotions warring inside of him. He wanted the older warrior ,
that was plain, and a relief at that. But he was still
apprehensive and for good reason. Radditz knew the torture Frieza
was capable of dealing out, but had no idea what a sadist he could be
in the privacy of his bedroom.
Suddenly things began to fit. Those times when Vegeta's
behavior had been damn irrational and frustrating. His silence,
his rage, and the burning, seething agony that was always just behind
his gaze. It all made sense.
Now to do
something about it. If he could just get Vegeta to agree he could
show him how wonderful it all could be for him. He could be there
for him when he was wounded and in pain. He wanted to so
badly. The moon fever was just the thing he'd needed to give him
the final push toward action. But now this- this horrifying
reality was ruining his chance.
Vegeta was mute, staring out of the smooth concave windows into
the void. His hands clenched and unclenched in his lap.
Radditz scooted forward on his hands and knees, a low purr rising from
his throat.
Vegeta's
gaze switched to him and what Radditz saw aroused the warmth and desire
and protectiveness her felt for his prince. Those dark, dark eyes
pleaded for what Radditz offered, but he couldn't decide that was
plain. His fear was too great. He would have to be very
careful in this as he'd never been before.
He cupped
Vegeta's smooth cheeks in his palms and leaned forward with closed
eyes. His lips met Vegeta's and gently kissed.
Vegeta woke to soft lips planting kisses on his face and closed
eyelids. He opened his eyes and saw bright blue eyes staring down
at him.
TBC..
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