Of course I end up roaming the house only an hour later. An hour spent dutifully trying to find sleep, and failing miserably. But I’ve left the map behind, and I can’t find my way to the front door to go outside. I should have just jumped out the window in the first place, but then, I’m not the master at planning ahead. I’m not the master at anything, it feels like. Vegeta, Vegeta…I want to find him, grab him, fuck him stupid and make him forget my brother. Or do I? Everything that seemed so straightforward in Kakarot’s presence has become a tangled, fucked-up mess again; par for the course with me.
I trail one hand along the night-cooled wall, wishing it could put out the fire I feel burning through my fingers. It’s not the rut, I’m not due for that yet. I just feel restless, caged…it’s all the mixed signals these damn males are giving off! Gods…my free hand clenches at my side, digging pretty little crimson crescents into my palm, the pain only heightening my awareness of myself, the beast barely held at bay behind my eyes.
A door, a door, why doesn’t a house this fucking enormous have a goddamned door! I suppose plenty of these rooms hold windows, but I don’t know which ones have people behind them. Ki signatures are difficult to detect in sleep, and I haven’t had enough practice to manage it yet. Almost growling in frustration, I drop into a low crouch, leaning over to sniff along the bottom of the door, trying to figure out if the room is empty or occupied.
“What are you doing?”
The unnatural light of the florescent bulbs lends his hair an almost greeny tinge, his golden skin a sallow glow. I snarl silently at him as I stand, my tail dancing warning behind me. He just continues to stare curiously at me, arms crossed over that well-muscled chest. Tonight his eyes are pale, pale, pale, like the moon on the water.
“How do you get out of this damn place?” I answer his question with one of my own, and the low pitch of my voice causes him to smile as he steps closer. I scent the air, his secret musk teasing my senses.
“Do you really want to go so bad?” His voice is young, playful. He has no idea what he’s getting into.
“Are you offering me an alternative?” I feel myself rising to the balls of my feet, leaning slightly forward, again resting my hand of the wall next to my head.
“Maybe.” He turns, walks down the hallway a few paces, opens one of the doors, slips inside. I follow, and see it’s one of the countless guest rooms…unless someone who lives here truly has no personality. The anonymity of the room delights me for some reason. He’s turned to face me again, though he gestures behind him to a small window.
“If that’s what you want,” he says in a sultry tone, licking his lips slowly. I need no further invitation, not tonight. Suddenly, I’m shoving him up against the wall with no space in between our bodies, one hand pressed into his shoulder, the other fisting in his hair as I stare down intently into his face. His azure eyes have gone wide with surprise, and I rumble a growl as I claim his lips forcefully, pressing him back hard enough to collapse the plaster in the wall with a little poof! of white dust.
Oh! Sweet warmth, blissful heat to plunge my tongue into, taste, ravage viciously as I tilt his head back, using his hair as the handle. I moan into that perfect furnace of desire, shoving my thigh between his legs as I feel him respond under me, twisting this way and that, arms sliding around my waist, under my shirt, nails raking the small of my back. I pull back from that furious kiss, only to dip in again and devour his neck.
“Raditz…slow down…” His voice is shaky, uncertain, which only causes me to blaze more fiercely. When did I ever think he was in control? No, the devil child is mine to take, and I prove the point with my teeth at his throat, biting hard, though not enough to break the skin, only to bruise in delicious hues of blue and violet. He lets out a shocked gasp into my ear, coupled with a mewling whimper of pain, but I can feel his arousal against my thigh, trapped in black silk.
“You thought…you would tease me…little boy?” I growl into his throat, moving down to run a rough tongue over the planes of his chest, flavored lightly with the exotic spice of his sweat.
“I...oh, Dende…” he trails off into incoherence as I turn my attention to one raised nub of nipple, surrounded by a deeper flush of rose and gold, darker than his skin. I rasp my tongue over it hungrily, one arm raised above my head to keep his shoved up against the wall, as I sink to my knees. The other I slide down his spine to his waist, curling around his back to lever his hips out, away from the wall.
“There’s no one here to help you now,” I mutter, almost angrily, up at him. I make sure the flesh is thoroughly reddened, almost raw, before I move to the other nipple. He’s still moving under my hands, under my tongue, his back arching and relaxing, hips twisting back and forth, like he can’t possibly keep still. The little moans and gasps coming out of his throat are gratifying, but not enough. I feel too urgent, too pent up…I have no patience for subtleties, for much more of this play.
I hook my fingers into the waistband of his pyjama bottoms as I trail my tongue lower, taking in the soft texture of the skin of his stomach, the light dusting of hair, the flowing lines of his perfect hipbones. Without warning, I yank the pants down, catching roughly on his straining erection, causing it to dip then spring back, smacking against his stomach with wonderfully meaty thud. I look up at him again, see him staring down at me with a mixture of fear, want, and awe. I roll that look in his eyes over my tongue, taste it as a sweetsharp honey that fires my palate for more.
I watch his head fall back against the wall with a sharp smack of sound as I dip to engulf the head of his sex into my impatient mouth, sucking at it greedily. The salty taste of pre-come, and it’s so searingly hot, and silky soft, fitting perfectly in my mouth. I twirl my tongue over the head of it, memorizing the texture, the taste, as he groans loudly above me. Good…this shouldn’t take long, and I have my own needs to take care of. But for now, I’m just enjoying the fantastic feeling of a cock in my mouth, that unique sensation that I’ve been without for nearly a quarter of century.
I work my mouth down over the shaft, getting used to being unable to breathe momentarily. There’s a small sliver of gratification that I don’t choke, in fact take the thick length smoothly, but mostly my mind is absorbed with the minutiae of the act: the balmy scent of aroused adolescent boy caught in the hair that brushes my nose, the pleading moans that drift down to my ears, the feel of his fingers at my scalp as he threads them through my hair helplessly, the tightening and loosening of the thigh muscles beneath my hand, the rush of saliva that cascades into my mouth at the memory of this act.
As I work up a rhythm, his little wordless beggings turn into full throated groans, flavored with the hint of a scream. Have to do something about that. I slide one hand up his buttocks to the small of his back, feeling for that tell-tale ridge. His is even less noticeable that my brother’s, only a small ring of skin that feels shiny smooth. I press in with my thumb, massaging the spot insistently, and I hear what I’ve been waiting for, the raising of his young voice into a full yell.
“Raditz! Oh…my….Dende…I…ah!” His hips are jerking uncontrollably now, and I have to move carefully to avoid biting down on him. I can feel my own erection throbbing painfully against my hip, imploring me to plunge it into this sweet body in front of me, but instead I swallow convulsively as he lets loose in my mouth, holding his hips still with some effort, until he falls back, panting against the wall.
I rise to my feet, placing my hands on either side of his head, once again looking down into that lovely, flushed face, lavender hair pasted sweatily to his forehead and cheeks. He looks up at me with half-lidded eyes, something sated and content there, but they flicker fully open as I press my arousal up against his leg with a demanding growl.
“Raditz, I-“ I ignore him, leaning in until my nose is nearly touching his.
“Turn around,” I order him, and he responds to the threat in my dark eyes.
“Because I’m going to fuck you, little boy.”
“But…Raditz, I’ve never…”
“Just do it.”
“I don’t think I can.” There’s genuine fear in his eyes now, and I feel my temper rise as I bare my teeth at him, tail whipping around to secure itself at his waist.
He shakes his head wordlessly, and I snarl at him loudly, engulfing his shoulders in my large hands, meaning the flip the kid over myself. The fear rises to a frantic panic, and he lashes out at me, shoving my away as hard as he can. Startled, I slam into the wall opposite him, and I hear the creak of the wood, ready to snap. Growling furiously now, I rush forward, but this time he kicks me in the chest, and I go flying onto my back, skidding into the bed painfully.
“You little shit!”
“I’m stronger than you, Raditz.” His voice holds the fear in his eyes, but something else, too. I can smell it on him, the little bastard wants me to fuck him, and he’s more scared of that than he is of me. What did he think we were going to do, exchange a few kisses, then politely go our merry ways? “Don’t follow me.”
He’s leaving? “You cowardly little fuck.” I’m up in a crouch, tail lashing behind me. “So that’s the way you play, huh? Get yours, then skip off to bed like a good little boy? Who’d you learn that from, your father?”
“What?” At the mention of Vegeta, his golden skin blanches, and he backs towards the door. “Look, Raditz, I don’t know what-“
“SHUT UP!” I howl, sneering as I see his mouth snap shut with an audible clicking of teeth. I stand, moving to tower over him, staring down into his confused face. “Shut up, shut up, you all talk too fucking much!”
It’s like something in him breaks. Breaks in a very bad way for me. I’d be shocked at how quickly the green bleeds into his eyes, the pale gold into his hair, but I’m too angry. Too pissed off to realize what kind of trouble I’m in. Suddenly he’s snarling at me, and then plants the heels of his hands right in the middle of my chest and I’m slamming through the wall this time, almost faster than I can hear my ribs snap inward. He must have pierced a lung, because my harsh exhale is tinted with a fresh gout of blood.
“Don’t touch me, Raditz,” he murmurs, now standing over me. I never saw him move. The stiff spikes of blonde hair fall softly into gentle lavender, and the arrogance in his turquoise eyes suddenly fades into frightened ice blue. I try to raise up off the ground, but something inside me is shattered, and I turn my head weakly to the side, let blood-streaked saliva patter from my lips to the floor. One blow. That’s all it took him, one blow to the chest.
I barely hear the muttered, “Oh, shit,” as he flees the scene. Guess I should have kept my hands to myself after all.
Part Seventeen |