Devour Me

By: Hatti Lee* AKA Amalthea* AKA Saiyajin_Peach AKA Saiyajin_Peach_18

Authors Notes: Well, here we go again… Another Goku & Vejita yaoi! Woo hoo! ^_^ In this one, Goku, or should I say Kakarotto, is definitely OOC, but it’s all good. You’ll see. ^_~ I actually have this entire fic finished. Complete! I’ll be adding chapters weekly, but I may update faster, depending on reviews that is. Hint. Hint. ^_^ Oh, and I welcome any and all reviews. Be it from just a fan or a flamer! It’s all good here!

Warnings: If you don’t already know, this is a yaoi fic, which means male/male intimacy. If you are uncomfortable with this, or if you’re just narrow-minded, I suggest you go elsewhere.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own DragonBall Z or it’s characters, and, again, unfortunately, I’m not making any money off of this. So, please don't sue me! It's not like you'd get much anyway! ^_^

Thanks: Wow! Thanks for all the wonderful reviews! I didn't think I'd have this many especially since FF.Net went psycho on me! So, here's chapter six three days early! ^_^ Aren't I a sweety!? ^_^

Okay, if there's anyone left, on with the fic…

Chapter Six

A month and a half later, the king was disappointed to see that his plan had backfired. Something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong. If he didn’t so something soon, his son would kill all of his palace guards.

Nappa raised his head at the sound of his name being called, "Yes, Sire?"

The king motioned for his son’s bodyguard to come close, and he did, "How’s my son?"

"As frustrated as ever, Sire."

"I don’t understand. Has he enjoyed the slave?"

"The boy?"

The king nodded, waiting impatiently for the slow-witted warrior to continue.

"I don’t think so, Sire. Prince Vejita made it clear that he isn’t homosexual."

"I see. Then, why was he so calm those many months when I’d first given him the slave?" King Vejita questioned curiously, his brows knitted in confusion.

"It seemed they’d become friends, like brothers even, but now Prince Vejita is back to his old self again. I don’t know what happened."

"Very well." The king muttered, waving Nappa away, watching as he retreated out of the room. This was getting ridiculous. He’d somehow convinced the royals to leave his son alone for a while, but now they were hounding him. Something had to be done.

"Prince Vejita?"

Kakarotto sat up quickly to the sound of knocking. He rose from the couch and went to the door, opening it to see a short, pale blue creature.

"Where is Prince Vejita?" the obvious guard asked in a feminine voice.

Kakarotto didn’t know how to behave. He hadn’t been addressed by anyone other than his master or Nappa in so long. So, he just stood silent, fearing to be punished.

The guard was pleased; he’d found one of the prince’s slaves, "Inform Prince Vejita immediately that the king requests his presence at council along with his slave Kakarotto."

Kakarotto lifted his gaze and watched as the small guard trotted off. He had to find his master. This seemed to be important. His stomach was tense as he ran down the corridors to the prince’s training hall. He didn’t want to see the king again. Memories flooded into his mind of the last time he’d seen the king.

"Jita?" Kakarotto said as he barged into the room, barely dodging a ki blast.

Vejita growled low in his throat, "What is it?" Seeing the boy reminding himself of his frustrations. Everything had been so crazy lately. At first he’d been so eager to spend every second of his time with the boy. Now that he understood why, he’d been avoiding him, ordering him to remain at their quarters.

Kakarotto visibly cringed at the sound of his master’s tone, "This guy said you and me are supposed ta go to council immediately."

Vejita wanted to smirk at the boy’s difficulty in pronouncing the last, but the message had already sunk in. Council. Something was wrong when you were ordered to go to council.

"Very well. Let’s go." The prince said as he began his walk to the south wing followed closely by Kakarotto. It seemed the boy had suddenly become the perfect slave he’d once been when they’d gone far enough into his father’s wing of the palace. Now that Vejita thought about it, Kakarotto had only ever been in his wing and the royal training hall. Surely he wasn’t scared, was he? What was there to be afraid of? With a quick glance, the prince’s guess was confirmed. The boy was obviously nervous. His hands were fidgeting and it seemed his mind was battling as he tried to decide whether to slip back into slave mode or remain as Vejita had ordered him.

Finally, they came to a large set of double doors made of a rich chocolate wood. Two insignificant guards opened the door for his Royal Highness and the slave. As they stepped into the room, Kakarotto slipped back into slave mode out of fear. From what he could see, the room was well lit with large rectangular table taking up most of the space. He couldn’t see how many, but there were many chairs with many royals occupying them. As they stepped closer to the well-polished table, obviously made from the same wood as the doors, Kakarotto could see that notes and documents littered its surface sporadically.

Everyone’s attention turned to the prince as he entered the room. Quickly, all but King Vejita rose from their seats.

"Have a seat, my good prince." An older man offered, gesturing to a large chair, not as large as the king’s, however, at the end of the table, just opposite the king.

"What is this all about?" Vejita questioned with a scowl on his face.

"Let’s keep calm now, son. The council has decided to meet over the issue of you choosing a mate." King Vejita said, watching as his son’s eyes narrowed in anger.

Vejita was fully aware the moment the word "mate" had left his father’s mouth, and he noticed all too easily that Kakarotto, who was standing at his side, had flinched.

"I see. Then, why was my slave ordered here as well?" his question was dismissed, however, by a wave of his father’s hand.

"Prince Vejita, in six months you’ll be twenty-five. In the history of Planet Vejita, no king-to-be over twenty has been without a mate." Stated a rather old Saiyajin with white hair and small spectacles.

Another council member continued where the previous one left off, "Therefore the council has decided that if you do not choose a mate in six months time, one will be chosen for you."

"The ceremony will be held a week after your birthday." Finished one of the younger members, rising from his seat along with the others.

Vejita’s teeth were clenched, causing the muscles of his jaw to protrude ever so slightly. Kakarotto, however, picked up on it easily and knew that his dear master was far more than upset.

The royals gathered their papers and exited in the room in silence. Soon, all that remained was the king, the prince, and the slave.

"Father, this is ridiculous. What ‘s the importance of my choosing a mate?" Vejita said with strained calmness.

"The royals fear a king without an heir. In times such as these it makes for easy rebellion."

"That makes no sense. You are king and you have an heir." Vejita all but growled.

"Yes, but imagine the distress if I were assassinated tomorrow. You would be a king without an heir." King Vejita said, almost smirking at his son’s realization.

Vejita growled, casting his gaze to the side, where Kakarotto stood, which reminded him, "What does any of this have to do with Kakarotto?"

"I see now my error in ordering him your slave. I apologize if I’ve offended you."

This time it was the prince’s turn to smirk. It wasn’t often his father apologized for anything. He watched as his father stood and he too rose from his seat.

"He is a good slave though. So, I’ll keep with my others. It’s good to have some variety." The king said, winking at his son.

Kakarotto paled visibly. No. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen. Not when he and Vejita were becoming so close. He couldn’t imagine loosing the one person who’d ever been kind to him. No. It just couldn’t be this way…

"No… Jita…" Kakarotto murmured, looking up to see the surprised eyes of his master. Suddenly a large hand made contact with his face, causing him to slip out of consciousness for but a second.

"Father, is this really necessary? Kakarotto and I have become," the prince paused for a moment, grimacing at the truth, "friends."

"Is that so? Well, I’m afraid this boy wasn’t cut out to be a soldier or a warrior for that matter. He’s a pleasure slave. He will always be a third class pleasure slave. We can’t have the prince being seen conversing with a slave like they were friends." With that the king headed for the door.

Kakarotto didn’t care about his manners at the moment. He was being separated from his one and only… Friend. Vejita had admitted to that much. It was the happiest and saddest day of his life.

Vejita starred into the boy’s eyes, which were becoming more and more watery by the second. He had to do something… Say something… But why? Why did it hurt so much to think that he may never seen the boy again? He wasn’t a faggot! Was he? Instead of speaking up, the prince just watched as Kakarotto finally turned and followed his father out of the room.

Kakarotto had been placed in a guard’s care once they’d reached the king’s personal wing. The guard was a tall lanky man of an unknown species. His skin was a play yellow, causing him to look sicklier than he really was.

"Wait in here." The guard ordered in a surprisingly deep voice as he shoved Kakarotto in a large room, closing the doors and standing guard outside to room to assure the boy didn’t escape. The king had warned him that the boy was in a rebellious mood since he’d just been plucked from his previous master’s side.

Kakarotto stumbled into the room, taking in his surroundings. The large four-posted bed, the bright colored walls, and the enormous chestnut dresser. He was in the king’s bedroom. In his entire life, Kakarotto had been scared many times, but he’d never been terrified like this. It wasn’t only his life that was in danger, but something more. It was a curse. He was to forever be near the one person he cared about, his best friend, but he’d never be able to talk to him or touch him again. It was hopeless. Wiping a single tear from his cheek and blinking several times to assure that no more tears slipped through, Kakarotto kneeled at the end of the bed, fixing his gaze on the floor.

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