Caught in the Act
Act Four: The Climax
Hn. Saiyan indeed. One teasing promise of a kiss and the boy's whimpering like a pathetic female. The brat was probably as weak as he'd imagined, as pitiful as he'd always been-the prince merely yearned for physical Saiyan contact more than he'd realized. Maybe it had just been that long. Growling softly in mild frustration, the Saiyan's tail contracted around the trembling wrist of Kakarott's youngest. Shimatta! If I had only wanted sex, I could have seduced the boy's father, or even his brother...The thought taunted and mocked him: he had once been the heir apparent to an entire planet full of hot blooded Saiyans. And now the only ones left beside himself were sniveling human crossbreeds that wouldn't know true passion if it literally kicked them in the ass.
Vegeta had never coped well with warring factions of himself; one half of his traitorous mind told him to simply leave the boy, to laugh at his adolescent eagerness and send him stumbling home to his bitchy mother. But he hadn't moved since the last words he had spoken were lost in the soft echo of the room, hadn't sought to complete the action, nor lower himself from those lips that tasted like nothing earthbound. Lips, that with only a lick, had parted deliciously before his questing tongue.
Dende, it still baffled him! Why did the boy suddenly take an interest in him anyway? If Goten had been in heat, Trunks would have been his logical choice for mating, not his father! No, even if his son had done something incredibly stupid, which was not beyond his believing, the brat would still have gravitated toward the younger prince. Which meant...He wants me. The boy actually wants me...Hell, Bulma may have hunted the Saiyan prince with as much fevered intensity, but she had done it for the same reason Vegeta had resisted: the challenge of it. This...he couldn't help but feel that this was different. Fuck, he's just a boy! Shimatta, I wish I knew more about my own damn race...Vegeta may have been trained to deny Saiyan instinct, but that hardly did him justice, considering the fact that the only test to that ability were against the worst possible specimens of Saiyan culture-big, strong, and too fucking stupid for anybody's good. But this boy, the youngest son of his archrival was none of those things.
The scent from the taller form spoke of uncertainty, questioning, longing...Dende, it was hard to deny the excitement the prospect brought him. He had never tasted one of his own kind, never relished the strength and intensity he knew would lie in such a coupling. And here the boy was, unwittingly giving him perhaps the one chance he would ever have to know what it was like to feel complete and at ease. The prince's dark, thoughtful eyes slid downward from the elegant curvature of Goten's jaw to rest in the black, soothing folds of his tight sweater. Then why the hell was he hesitating?
Oh, Dende-sama...Goten wasn't sure whether to thank or curse the god whose name he muttered over and over again in the confused haze of his mind. Vegeta had almost kissed him, was still pressed horribly close to his unbreathing form. And yet...it had been almost an entire agonizing minute since he had moved a muscle. The erratic thumping of his heart was deafening in his ears and he was certain the Saiyan could hear his indecision. What the hell was he going to do? Was Vegeta mocking him? Why had he stopped? Dende, he wanted...he needed...reason may have tried to plead its case, but the youngest Son was beyond listening as a wayward thought took hold in his frozen mind and he latched onto it with frenzied abandon. If the prince wasn't going to move, then he was.
Oh, Dende, if this doesn't work, they're going to have to peel me off the walls...
"That wasn't in the script? Well, neither is this..." Vegeta looked upward at the firm, yet quiet words that were breathed into the stiff strands of his hair. Onyx eyes widened in utter chaotic shock as Goten's larger hands were suddenly fisting together the front of his red t-shirt, the cotton material bunching in his iron grip and forcing the prince forward onto his toes. His hands found balance on the flexing muscles of the younger man's biceps that rippled beneath his touch at the strength required to hold the older Saiyan's weight.
"Goten, wha-" Oh, Dende...The demi-Saiyan's lips were warm and sinfully soft against his own; it took all the control he possessed not to deepen the kiss, to show his acceptance of the bold move made by the youngest Son. But, Dende-sama...he tasted...he felt...something deep and instinctual within the slighter Saiyan prohibited him from shoving the other way, from kicking his sorry half-breed ass at having the nerve to even touch him. And then Goten's impatient tongue was coaxing a mouth half parted in shock to widen and allow him entrance into an opening that had been left virtually unexplored.
The boy was obviously inexperienced, though he was hardly one to judge; so was he. Fighting had been his love, his passion, his ardent reason to continue the backbreaking task that was merely surviving. Sex was...the heat prickled its way up the back of his neck, striking each and every hair on his skin to stand at attention. Dende, he was not blushing! Fuck, one kiss from an over eager bastard demi-brat and his body was reacting as though it had never broken through the despicable walls of Saiyan adolescence! The idle desire to kill himself was abruptly discarded as that lovely organ between his lips began to stroke and invite his own tongue to play. Any blatant signs of Goten's wanting knowledge were lost in the fervor of his delving lips. He cursed himself for the moan that slipped between the seal of their melding mouths, for the clenching of his fingers that moved the boy even closer to his heated body, for the disobedience of his tail that stroked the sensitive flesh at the inside of Goten's wrist. He wasn't doing this, he wasn't even considering the prospect...it may have held appeal earlier, but that was before...before...before he realized exactly how much he didn't know! Fuck!
Thank Dende for that psychology course last semester...I knew Vegeta would fit into that mold... Goten tightened his impulsive grip on the older Saiyan's front, not giving the other time to think, or react to anything save his uncharacteristic aggression. His mind reeled at the unbelievable response he received as the prince jerked his body closer, fitting his compact frame more securely against his taller figure. Holy shit, it worked! I guess people who are in control all the damn time really do long to give it to someone else...
His conscious mind was blessedly lost among the gentle waves of sensation that cascaded over his skin as the kiss was mutually deepened. Dende, even in his fantasies, he had never thought that his first kiss would be this rewarding...Vegeta's mouth was pliant and responsive under his assault and he marveled at the almost submissive quality that the action held. Somehow the idea of the Saiyan prince submitting to him was highly arousing and he cultivated that pleasurable possibility as he plundered the delightful cavern of his mouth.
An upsurge of power swept through his lean figure as he caressed the prince's tongue with his own and with a low growl of yearning, he thrust the other man backward against the gravity controls, the metallic ring of flesh to steel sounding hollowly in the acoustics of the room. The prince, now bent backward over the panel grunted at the energy as his body was forced to contort under the strain of Goten's weight. Nipping lightly at his lower lip, the Son released those gloriously soft petals to look down at the Saiyan pinned temptingly beneath him.
Vegeta's beautiful black eyes were wide with unvoiced question, the hands that gripped his upper arms still tight and unyielding, as though the older Saiyan were reassuring his very presence by the magnitude of his grasp. Goten was mildly surprised when he wasn't blasted into the far wall, when the quick-witted insults that the prince was infamous for never fell from his lips. Dende, could it be that Vegeta wanted him to continue? He hadn't actually expected his theory to work, let alone leave the reticent Saiyan breathless...
The sharp jab of uncompromising metal against the muscles in his back ripped a disbelieving groan from his throat. Dende, the boy was acting as though possessed-was this what hormones did to Saiyan teenagers? He couldn't recall; he had had no one on which to focus his desire at that age, and by the time Kakarott had come into the picture, Vegeta had been old enough to control his cravings. The Saiyan had channeled all such energies into activities that had yielded more immediate benefits. Damn-screw Kakarott! Vegeta may have harboured the occasional fantasy when it came to the other Saiyan, a late night reprieve when the tension in his body proved too much for even fighting to contend with, but Goten was looking at him now in a way that his father had never done. There was reckless lust, tinged with the subtle glimmer of wanton ownership in those fascinating pools of liquid obsidian that regarded him so steadily from above. It was ironically unnerving. No one had ever looked at the heir to the Saiyan throne like a Saiyan.
Flicking the tip of his tongue over the moistness of his own lips, the prince was granted the renewed flavour of the demi-Saiyan's exquisite taste. It was threatening to unravel him-the singular feeling of the other man pressed so agonizingly close, his hips caught between the coolness of the metal behind him and the growing heat of the one before him contrasting in such a way as to leave him completely oblivious to the pride that generally handled these uncomfortable situations. Dammit, even his hellcat fury had been reduced to little more than a mewing kitten by the unlikely behavior of the lusting demi-brat. What's he doing to me? Why aren't I fighting this? He's just a boy-a teenage boy!
But he didn't stop the slow descent of Goten's dark raven head as he bent sensuous lips to his throat, couldn't prevent the persistent purr from striking an offbeat rhythm in his chest, betraying his bizarre appreciation for the other's sudden dominance.
"It burns, Vegeta..." The seductive voice was soft and alluring to ears that were currently echoing with the frantic pace of his own pulse. "Can you feel it?" Good Dende, but he could-that aching fire that rushed blood to each area that the demi-Saiyan touched, a torrid heat that incinerated his protests, prohibited complaint...had there even been one to begin with.
His hands bit deeper into the clothed flesh of the boy's arms as his willing lips were claimed again, the passionate craving that had been awakened in his blood engulfing his pride and encouraging the unthinkable with each taunting taste of Goten's fervent mouth. Vegeta's heavy lidded eyes snapped open with a growling gasp as he felt large hands that had previously been unoccupied settle on his waist, raising him up, a quick thrust of Goten's hips sending the smaller Saiyan to sit on the control panel that had held his leaning weight only moments before.
"Goten, dammit-" The prince snarled in harsh indignation. He wasn't a toy that the boy could just throw around whenever he damn well pleased!
"Shut up, Vegeta." His heart skipped a rapid beat at the ferocious Saiyan quality born by his words as the boy's hands wrapped around the hard muscle of his thighs, dragging them forward with a swift unforeseen movement and grinding his burning arousal into the welcoming warmth of Goten's own excitement. One palm remained stubbornly on his hip while the other pressed down onto the metal surface he reclined against, keeping the prince bound by the desirable body that leaned toward him again.
His slender fingers cramped at the sheer force of his grip and he knew that the demi-Saiyan would bare his mark tomorrow in varying shades of powder blue and purple. Dende, after this he'd be lucky if that was all he bore.
"Vegeta..." The Saiyan felt his face flush as that whispered word was breathed against the sensitive dip in his throat, the amazingly silky strands of Goten's untamed hair tickling his senses, the subtle musk that permeated the demi-Saiyan's being wafting up to seduce his nose with its animalistic appeal. "You want this, my prince..." Oh, Dende-sama, save me from this boy...I don't know how, but he knows just what to say to me to make me go completely fucking boneless... Quiet curses left his lips as broad, caressing hands massaged into the tense muscles of his thighs, head falling backward against his nape as that mouth, that glorious mouth, cleansed away all thought of objection with tender nips and succulent suckles.
Dende, this is it...I can stop this if I want to. I've ten times the power he has and he knows it! He fucking knows it! Then why...Vegeta's purr of silent rapture gained strength as Goten's kisses gained force, leaving brilliant flashes of vibrant red in their wake. It didn't make sense...but Dende dammit, it didn't have to. Growling in opulent fury, the prince drove long fingers into the boy's thick Saiyan mane, tugging sharply in an effort to raise his head. This was all that damn woman's fault! If she had been able to satisfy me, I wouldn't be turning to children! Disgusted with attempting to deceive himself, Vegeta shook his head. Bakayaro! You know very well that has nothing to do with this...if anything it's Frieza's fault for killing your race, demolishing your chances at having a normal Saiyan relationship, driving you into the bed of a half-breed brat...who worships you. Dammit...Fuck me...
Baring his teeth savagely, Vegeta crushed his lips to the demi-Saiyan's beautiful mouth. He wanted this, dammit! To deny it was to deny his nature, his race...Who was he to turn down one of the only living beings left with any considerable amount of Saiyan blood when Goten was practically worshipping the ground he walked on? Sure, the boy had taken control-because he had allowed it! And this was in no way geared toward his humiliation...he could see it clearly defined in those bottomless eyes of inviting black velvet. Goten was determined to please him...to pleasure them both in an act he had consciously been yearning for since the day he had realized what it meant to truly be Saiyan, when the first scent of freshly spilled blood had graced his fist. And somehow, whether through the subtle years of his indirect parenting, or the suppression of his Saiyan instincts due to his idiot parents, Goten was matching his desire flame for burning flame; it flickered in those dark depths, heated those lustrous lips...
The chorus of their panting breaths was suddenly interrupted by the melody of his growl. Fisting that lovely hair in his anxious hands, he brought the demi-Saiyan down for another bruising kiss.
"The bedroom. Downstairs."
Goten's glittering ebony eyes slid into a lustful expression of urgent desire as the prince's husky words seduced his ears. Vegeta wanted it to happen, he wasn't fighting...but the demi-Saiyan knew that he'd have to keep control of the situation if he was to maintain Vegeta's determination. Gazing down into black mirrors of turbulent desire, Goten wrapped his arms around the tapered waist of the older Saiyan, drawing him up and off the control panel. A surprised moan greeted his lips as they were conquered by the fevered prince, powerful legs enclosing around his waist and crossing at his lower back as Goten hefted him bodily, Vegeta's slighter form requiring almost no strength at all to lift.
He wasn't sure exactly how they managed to stumble down the steps that led to the living chambers without permanently hurting themselves. Vegeta's arms were locked in a vice grip around his neck, those fingers that held him enraptured on sight, now pulling and playing mercilessly with his tangled windswept locks. That divine appendage had forsaken his wrist in favour of more attractive territory, lacing under the arms that held the prince and beneath his turtleneck, stroking with teasing caresses of fur to flesh that left the demi-Saiyan growling in the sanctum of their unending kiss.
He felt the prince's breath leave his compact body in a rush as he was deposited on the bed, the demi-Saiyan's larger frame forced to follow in the interweave of limbs that inevitably dragged him down.
"Vegeta..." he murmured quietly, as though reminding himself through vocalization that this was real and not another beautiful fantasy concocted by an adolescent desire he couldn't begin to control. But the man beneath him was answering him in soft growls and curses that included his name and it was then that the power of the situation hit him full force. He was kissing Vegeta! He was about to submit to the most basic of animal pleasures with Vegeta! Oh, Dende-sama...is this...is it...
"Goten..." So soft, Dende, it was so soft...the demi-Saiyan lost his breath as the impact of that one word exploded, disintegrating the flimsy human wall of his reason. Purring deeply in response, Goten braced his arms against the cushioned bed, raising himself enough to lick and nuzzle the prince's cheek. Elegant hands ran paths of sensation down his sculpted back and he arched into that touch, applying gentle pressure into Vegeta's receptive hips.
Supple and sensuous, Vegeta's tail snaked upward to curl against his jaw, the fluffy end uncoiling to tickle at his nose. Goten inhaled deeply of the prince's Saiyan scent, his obvious state of arousal hardening to an almost painful point. Dende...
His onyx eyes flashed open as the intensity of his passion swept over him, shaking him to the core of his Saiyan soul. Keeping his gaze locked firmly onto the ebony orbs of shimmering night, Goten turned his head gently to the side, capturing that flexible appendage in his teeth and licking with the lay of the downy fur. The Saiyan's reaction was instantaneous-Vegeta's guarded expression was immediately shattered into tiny, incomprehensible pieces. Goten's breath hissed painfully around the tail as the fingers in his hair tightened, drawing the sleek figure below upward. Beautiful lips parted, emitting a whimpering moan of need as eyes glazed by pinpricks of pleasure were closed, dark lashes pressed flat against the high curve of his cheekbones. Continuing his oral ministrations, Goten's hands moved down the hard chest and chiseled abdomen of the occupied man currently writhing in a mindless haze of feeling.
Dende, but he's beautiful...Goten couldn't help but admire his lover as the Saiyan twisted and panted with each flick of his tongue. The small button of the prince's pants slipped easily at his insistence and with a gentle nip and growl, he was able to disengage Vegeta's legs from around his waist, enabling him to pull the material off his exquisite frame. The prince sighed mournfully as his tail was released, helping the demi-Saiyan in his task by quickly removing his shirt and tossing it over the edge of the bed.
As the Saiyan lay back against the sheets, beautiful bronze and black complimented by the royal blue of the bed, Goten couldn't help but lose what little breath remained in his over stimulated body.
"Vegeta...you are so...beautiful..." The proud prince blushed furiously at the awed words, only serving to heighten his graceful splendor. Reaching crosswise across his chest, Goten lifted the turtleneck from his body, pulling it hard to free his head from the constricting fabric before having it follow the way of Vegeta's discarded clothing.
Dende, he felt like he was in heat. Only in that irrational state had he ever felt a yearning this powerful, a need so great it made him submissive to the whim and impulse of the man above him. There was fire coursing through his blazing Saiyan blood, a mad craving that he could no longer battle-he didn't want to fight it anymore! Goten was hardly his choice for an ideal mate, but the boy had definite potential... and Vegeta had never felt so utterly passionate as he did in this moment; it was like the social divides that had kept his mind from even considering the boy had fallen prey to his unconscious desires. It was time to taste the intoxicating flavour of his kind, to lose himself in the animal ecstasy of another Saiyan.
The boy's strikingly eloquent fingers were fast disposing of his remaining attire. Sitting up quietly, Vegeta slipped his hands under the parted denim of the boy's pants. Purring in admiration of the satin curves that flexed beneath his palms, the prince pushed the material down the sloping plane of the demi-Saiyan's hips. His unsuspecting lips were ravaged as the Son maneuvered himself upward, kicking the offending jeans down his legs and off the bed behind him. The Saiyan was forcefully thrust back, bouncing lightly on the springs of the mattress as his slighter frame was covered in the descending shadow of the other man.
Goten seemed to pause above his body, panting with the effort it took not to simply sate himself in the enticing form below. Oh, no you don't, boy. Don't you dare stop now...Growling low in his throat, the impatient Saiyan wove his tail up the satin inside of the demi-Saiyan's thigh. The youngest Son jerked at his touch, wide, wondering eyes highlighted with the soft glow of lust never leaving his own. Licking his lips, Vegeta caressed soothingly up the corded muscles of the other's arms, entwining teasing fingers into the delightful silken texture of Goten's hair and bringing him down for another achingly sensual kiss. Arms interwoven behind the demi-Saiyan's neck, the prince walked his tail inward until the downy softness of his questing appendage wrapped around the thick shaft between the other's smooth thighs.
Goten's natural inclination was to jump backward, as the prince had foreseen, and thus prohibited, stroking his lips and sex with equally soft parts of his royal anatomy. The boy relaxed within moments, aiding the Saiyan's efforts with insistent bucks of his narrow hips. Vegeta licked and suckled at the mouth before him, those lovely lips bitten sporadically as the pleasure proven too much for his training, allowing the traitorous moans and purrs through before they were silenced. Dende, the prince would never admit it, but he reveled in each sound he coaxed from the taller man, responding in whispered noises of decedent pleasure as the demi-Saiyan ground his hips forward, his tongue lashing out to finally engage his own. Moaning softly with extreme need, Vegeta drew the younger man's body toward him with the adamant cajoling of his lustrous tail.
Goten's breath caught painfully, his back arching against the barred resistance of Vegeta's powerful arms. It seemed the prince had had enough in the way of foreplay; he was easing his body closer with persuasive tugs of his taunting little tail. Groaning, the demi-Saiyan gave in to the Saiyan's persistence-he wasn't exactly sure how long he could last at this rate anyway. The fact that both he and his prince hadn't already embarrassed themselves was a sheer testament to Saiyan stamina. Gripping Vegeta's bronze thighs with both hands, Goten parted them wide to lie on either side of his kneeling body. The prince's luxurious eyes of unrivaled darkness flickered with yearning, that resonant purr beginning anew as the younger man positioned himself against the other's receptive body.
Vegeta's arms slid unnoticed down his biceps, coming to rest above his head, exquisitely sculpted limbs caressed by the black and red tendrils of his hair. Gazing with silent wonder at his lover, Goten could hardly believe that such a powerhouse of masculinity was allowing himself to be taken by someone hardly worthy to clean his shoes. He's a prince...and what am I? Nothing...half-human and the forgotten offspring of a third class baka. Dende...my prince...I hope I can give you what you want. Swallowing the fireflies of trepidation that flew in wretched circles in his stomach, Goten closed his ebony eyes and pushed forward with his hips.
Oh, Dende, he's so tight...The panting demi-Saiyan was forced to pause in his entrance, the searing heat and throbbing pressure that surrounded his sensitive member threatening to completely unmake everything they had built. The man beneath him was flushed a deep pink, his dark lashes fluttering against blushing cheeks as the young Son thrust deeper into his body. Goten silently marveled at the ease in which he entered the Saiyan; the passage was slick and nonresistant, as though lubricated with its own secretions. Hell, for all he knew that's exactly what it was-Vegeta was a Saiyan, not a human. All he knew was that it felt wickedly pleasant. Dende, there should be laws against feeling this good... Any thought to continue at his slow, steady pace was cast aside as that damndable appendage slipped over his hip, flicking and fondling the small scar at the base of his arched spine. With a low cry, he buried himself in that wondrous heat, head falling forward, sweaty locks of raven hair clinging to his furrowed brow.
Bending his knees and pushing his hips higher, Vegeta welcomed the frantic thrust that signified his fulfillment. Fingers clasped heatedly in pleasure against the fluffy softness of the pillow as the prince arched his back hard, gathering that beautiful body to his own with one well-placed slap of his tail. His whimpered purr was lost to the fevered sound of his name falling from the demi-Saiyan's lips and his body throbbed at the passion contained within that heartfelt exclamation. Gritting his teeth, he encouraged the brash young Saiyan to use his full strength with pointed manipulations of the half-breed's tail spot.
Moaning now, with no mind to cease, the prince met each pump and thrust with snarling vigor. Dende, yes, this is what he had wanted, needed, desired...this unique sensation of being filled and pleasured by one of his own, a joining of body and mutual gratification that had no equal. This was fighting and anger, pain, fury and rapture all reduced to the singular matchless feeling of ultimate completion. He was so close to satisfaction...closer than he should have been. But Dende! The boy was so fucking arousing to watch, those gentle eyes spellbound with the pleasure sent coursing through his blood with each gliding plunge into the prince's body. And that body...lean, muscled, powerful...not overly bulky like his father or brother, but streamlined... seductive... sexy...
Vegeta's tail relented the assault on Goten's spine, slipping over the dips and impressions of the boy's muscles, redefining his chest with soft, alluring caresses that increased the pitch of the demi-Saiyan's growling moans. Murmuring quietly to gods half forgotten from his youth, the prince inhaled deeply of the boy's rich scent-sweat, passion, and Saiyan. It was the scent that finally drove him to scream his pleasure to any who cared to listen, to lose himself in the delightful abyss of Saiyan carnality.
Oh, Vegeta-sama! Goten threw back his head and howled his blissful satisfaction to the world as his hips stilled, the prince's legs wrapping tightly around his waist and holding him securely to his body as they voiced their simultaneous appreciation for each other.
When his wits returned, responding to the persistent call of his consciousness, his face was pressed contentedly against the warmth of the Saiyan's chest, the heat that radiated from his compact physique shrouding him from thought and engulfing him in a lazy haze of comfort. The strong scent of the man's passion played with the euphoric state of his mind, and he found himself lapping the chest beneath him clean before settling his head against the other's shoulder. A gradually slowing heartbeat...and a deep melodic purr lulled him into a serene place of simplistic being.