Chapter thirteen

Prince Vegeta was antsy, pacing the confines of his quarters in nervous habit, auburn tail fluffed to twice its usual size and snapping wildly behind him. He felt both wired and exhausted. The incident in the tub with Zarbon a week ago had forced him to face the truth… though not easily and rather unhappily. He was very attracted to the older man….enjoyed his touches.

~Damn! The man was just so… beautiful.~

The reality of his life was that he had had no affectionate physical contact since he was a child, before Vegetesei was lost. The kisses and caresses bestowed on him by the Megalian had appealed to a part of himself he had not realized still existed; a part that longed for a non-violent contact. The very idea disturbed him.

Why should a Saiyan warrior want affection?

He was tired of fighting it….tired of denial…and just plain tired.

Overshadowing all the mental turmoil was how jittery he felt. Sights, sounds and so forth were jarring, off from the norm. He was too hot one minute and too cold the next. A noise he would have considered background prior to this upheaval could now deafen him. And he was sleeping longer…even napping during the day.

As a matter of fact, he was so exhausted at present that he decided to change into his bedclothes and take another nap, longing to burrow into the lazy warmth of the burgundy comforter and satin sheets.

Leto had watched Vegeta as he walked the apartment in his agitation. It was obvious that the prince was in no mood to play. Disappointed, he settled himself into his own padded nest in the corner of the room, body curling into a seemingly headless ball of fur.

When Zarbon entered their apartment, he found heaven in the form of one small, young Saiyan prince. It took him a few seconds of studying the lovely features before he understood exactly what he was seeing. Vegeta was in his mini hibernation already, metabolic activity significantly lowered.

It was finally happening.

He immediately made arrangements for time off from his duties, determined to watch over the dark prince as he rested. After bathing, he exchanged the glaring artificial lights of the room for the tranquil and admittedly romantic light of several large unscented candles.

Nude beneath his robe, he then nestled into an armchair, plush and comforting, that he drew up next to the prince’s bedside. He began to read a novel, one of many he would finish while observing the prince, intent on remaining by Vegeta’s side for the duration of this dormancy.

The little Saiyan was so adorable and still so undeniably sexy, an enticing combination; barely more than a child, but soon to be considered a man. Zarbon spent many minutes of each passing hour in rapt attention to the minutest detail of his regal face, so sweet and innocent in his sleep. It was incongruous with what the prince was in reality….at least for the most part. He was innocent and yet not. The Megalian felt he could identify with that to a certain extent…he still had hopes. But perhaps someday, Vegeta’s innocence would disappear completely…leaving behind only a cold, imposing majesty.

He recalled the scraps of cloth, little more than rags, the Saiyan youth had held up against his face their first night sharing the apartment…sharing the bed. It was possible that Vegeta had brought them to bed at other times as well. He figured they represented a time or place of serenity and security for the prince, comforting him by the feel and, maybe at one time, by scents long since faded. He experienced a pang of sympathy for the boy whose childhood had ended with brutal finality.

The hours and days that passed were spent in untroubled silence; the Saiyan seeming in total peace. Even the viveret uncharacteristically quiet as he left Vegeta undisturbed and planted himself on the welcoming lap of the green-haired man instead. Zarbon wanted to touch the prince…tempted to explore planes and angles of olive skin that had blanched in this quiescent state. But he feared that even the slightest touch would bring discomfort to Vegeta. So he merely watched him with fond, protective eyes. He never left their quarters, having all meals delivered to their rooms as soundlessly as possible.

At the end of the third day, Vegeta finally began to awaken. Zarbon stiffened, the fluttering of butterflies in his stomach in echoing mimicry to the movement of the prince’s long, sooty lashes. Eyes of deepest black, almost fevered in their intensity, looked up to meet his own eager gaze.

The Megalian shivered in his anticipation as he rose to his feet; dislodging a napping Leto. His hands, tremorous with excitement, fumbled to untie the sash at his waist, a faint rustling of silk as the blue robe sank softly to the luxury of the carpet. Feeling surprisingly vulnerable in his nakedness, a slight chill washing over him, Zarbon turned down the sheet that covered the prince and slipped nimbly into bed alongside him.

Vegeta’s obsidian eyes widened and a faint shiver ran through him as the Megalian curled up next to him.

A light blush graced the finely-boned cheeks of the Saiyan; embarassed, yet utterly captivated by the raw, honest need…the aching want…reflected in the older man’s glittering, golden orbs. He started slightly as the long, elegant fingers of Zarbon began unbuttoning his nightshirt.

“I-I’m not…mmm…” His weak, unconvincing protest was cut off by the soft whisper of the other man’s breath on his cheek---a soothing, balmy breeze cooling the pink of his discomfort---satin lips falling tenderly upon his own. Every incidental brush of cerulean skin on bronze flesh sent sparks of flaming desire coursing throughout his body.

Never taking his own eyes off the sculpted face of the other---delicate features even more ethereal in the glow of the candlelight---Vegeta was quickly divested of his imprisoning shirt, tossed backwards to alight easily on a dresser.

His pants soon followed; the prince helping to rid himself of their unwelcome confinement, raising his bottom off of the bed to allow the unveiling, languid and provocative, of his natural state. The younger man was surprised to witness the lavender blush that colored the cheeks of the Megalian in turn as the Saiyan’s chiseled entirety was revealed.

~He’s as nervous as I am!~

For Zarbon, it was as if he had never been in such a position. He wasn’t physically untouched…not a virgin like his handsome prince; but he had never loved…he had never even wanted anyone.

Vegeta was so… breathtakingly gorgeous.

The older man ran his right hand adoringly through the downy softness of the ebony flame of hair as he cupped the fine-edged chin with his left. He tilted Vegeta’s face upward as he leaned down to lightly kiss the parted lips, marveling, once again, at the exquisite lushness of the fleshy petals.

Feathering kisses to the tip of the prince’s nose and then his piercing obsidian eyes, he moved quickly to gently dispel the vague signs of uneasiness. Zarbon trembled, a shuddering quake, at this beginning to his fantasy come true.

He nibbled hungrily at the perfect ears, strong jaw and neck of the Saiyan, nipping and licking to taste the salt of sensual perspiration, eliciting small moans of contentment from the prince. “Mmm…Zarbon…mmmmmm”

The gratified sounds and his name issuing helplessly from the pleasured prince aroused the older man almost painfully. ~Oh, gods! Do you know what you do to me?~

So he impatiently captured the ripe, red, inviting mouth of the Saiyan with the demanding probe of his own questing blue; sucking greedily… licking strokes of wet desperation...demanding total surrender of the full lips and delectable secrets of the moist and heated cavity. Tongue met velvet tongue in erotic duel as both participants lost themselves to the sensations—soft, wet, hot, smooth---blending together and sifting apart.

Every sensation was amplified for Vegeta, newly-awakened receptors avidly embracing all the rampaging stimuli, always craving more.

Vegeta allowed the flavors to dance across his tongue. Zarbon was sweet…sweet with a tinge of spicy tartness: flavors of sugared berries…citrus…cinnamon.

Zarbon broke the kiss reluctantly, breathless and dizzy. His ears rang with the thundering reverberations of his racing heart, pounding anvils in his mind.

He went on instinct, thumbs spiraling lazy circles down the quivering body of the prince; fingertips caressing the smooth, unyielding chest and abdomen of the Saiyan before finding his slender hips.

Vegeta reached out longingly, tenderly to the emerald braid of his lover, gently unraveling the long, straight, silky stands from their plait with quavering hands, releasing the hair to fall in a shimmering curtain around his face. A rainbow of colors was refracted in richest emerald green by the flames of the candles.

His nostrils flared as he breathed in the scent…and…he was smelling Zarbon---not the perfume of oils or shampoos.

Looking at the liquid gold observing his reactions with hopeful expression, he smiled up at the man above him, his own jet eyes misting. He remembered a day from his childhood; running happily along a beach, dampness on his face, kicking up showers of red sands as he ran to the sparkling water.

Then the other man teasingly skimmed his gloriously warm and supple blue frame down the prince’s velvety sweat-sheened form. Skin caressed skin, tingling both bodies with fine pinpricks of mutual desire.

Zarbon finally halted at Vegeta’s erection. The prince closed his ebon eyes to the sight, unable to bear the warm ache and renewed embarrassment the vision wrought. He didn’t witness, merely felt the sublime exploration of moist heat….tongue flicking to sample around the width of him…stroking vigorously up and down the length of him…before liquid fire engulfed him completely, swallowed him whole.

He screamed, but no sound could be heard.

He felt the shocks of slow then increasing friction as the sizzling mouth of the Megalian sucked in growing enthusiasm, the subtle scraping of teeth against him, his own pelvis thrusting upwards towards the blistering cavern. The unfamiliar pressure that was mounting in his groin found its release in volcanic eruption, his voice crying out sharply in climax, leaving behind a trembling mass of euphoric Saiyan prince.

Zarbon smiled rather wickedly, ecstatic at the knowledge that he had pleased his prince but more achingly aroused than ever. He needed to reach his own physical satisfaction---so painfully hard he thought he might burst. And he could find that satisfaction, that completion, while bringing his lover to new heights of pleasure.

His exploring digits found the cushy fur at the base of the prince’s tail, trapping the appendage, waving lazily in satiated bliss, with his hands as he petted it firmly to excite the young Saiyan once more. Ruffling the fur impacted more severely, Vegeta almost leaving the bed as he arched desperately to the touch.

Inky eyes widened in response to the tremors that shook his body. A trace of fear was evident in the murky depths as a warm finger invaded his form, stretching him gently, followed by two more in succession. He closed his eyes, squirming at the penetration, tensing in mild discomfort until a certain spot was discovered and he was delirious. He wanted…no…he needed…he had to have that shocking rub, pushing back forcefully on the blue man’s fingers.

And then it was gone.

Before the haze of pleasure dissipated completely---helped to remain by the grasp of a hand on his tail ruffling the fur expertly--- a larger, lubricated flesh pushed its way into him. His eyes widened alarmingly at the pain and the fullness. He wanted it to stop.

But then Zarbon began to move within him, angling perfectly to hit the sweet spot again. An almost brutal massage that sent red-hot tensile electricity coiling throughout him. And he found himself pushing upward as the Megalian bore down, filling and emptying him again and again. Growls, whimpers, groans rent the air as flesh slapped frantically in carnal rhythm. Olive hands cupped buttocks of cerulean, kneading roughly as both panted with lustful abandon..

Zarbon had found salvation; his member enveloped in the searing heat and tight constriction of his young lover.

It wasn’t long before that same taut feeling spiked low in the prince’s abdomen, another forceful release coating them both in its fervor, his shout muffled as Zarbon covered the Saiyan’s mouth with his own. Pulling out of the kiss, the Megalian gasped, “Vegeta!” as he reached climax as well, spurting passionately into the tightness and heat of his young lover; a few final thrusts before collapsing in exhaustion to drape over the prince.

When he was able to catch his breath, he rolled off the Saiyan and onto his back, smiling tiredly.

“T-That was….so…amazing!” he said, voice shaking with the aftershocks. Vegeta could only nod in agreement, still processing the intensity, unable to believe that he could feel so damn good.

They had made love and it was precious and frantic. But did Vegeta want more…did he need the savagery of Saiyan rut? Zarbon was uncertain. But he didn’t want that question to tarnish this moment.

When his heartbeat calmed, the swarthy prince turned to his partner, smirking devilishly as he said, “You’re wrong, by the way. You actually have a quite potent natural scent.”

Dismay paled Zarbon’s features, stabbing into his heart.

~Like a light rain on the beach…cool ocean spray on my face.~

Vegeta grunted, “Rain and ocean spray.”

Yellow eyes narrowed in uncertainty as Zarbon ventured to ask, “Is that good?”

“That’s very, very good,” he answered as he lay his head on the older man’s shoulder, hiding his contented smile against the elegant neck of his lover.

From his position atop the dresser, snuggling in Vegeta’s discarded shirt, Leto watched his two masters with bright, happy eyes.

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