Disclaimer: Not my characters.

Author’s Note: This was very first DBZ fic, in my first fandom (though I only write in two currently). It’s mostly PWP, but there’s a little bit of content. I don’t like stories in which lots of sex occurs with no background whatsoever…not because of any real problem with pure porn, but simply because it’s not as sexy to me. Anyways, I love Raditz. I mean, I love Raditz. And Vegeta is just the hottest thing in DBZ, so it’s not surprising I picked these two for my first story.

* * * * *

Vegeta stalked down the bland halls of the military base purposefully. He noted idly how all military outposts looked the same, from those placed at the farther reaches of the galaxy, to those at the heart of populated solar systems. Frieza was not big on cultural diversity, at least in terms of decor. White, he liked featureless white halls, and grey doors. But the small Saiyan had lived in such places for most of his life now. Memories of Vegeta-sei were starting to bleed away their color, leaving only faint images and wistful impressions.

The prince clamped down on the useless sentimentality as he approached one of the largest training chambers, putting it behind him with an ease he might have found disturbing in his youth. He scowled as he saw the red light over the door: occupied. He supposed he could use one of the other, smaller chambers, but he liked to stretch out. Closer quarters required more discipline, but today was not the day for discipline. He had been feeling odd all week, jittery. Not nervous, but confined, as though nowhere were large enough to hold him, certainly not this cramped post at the ass- end of nowhere. There were always trade offs...farther away from the tyrant lizard, but farther away from the action, too. But he doubted Frieza would let him languish here long. The Saiyan prince was too good at his job to waste him out here for more than a month or so.

Deciding to wait for the one chamber of any decent size to be free, he peered into the narrow window set in the wall, none of his curiosity about the occupant displayed on his habitually sneering face. He had long ago learned that a disdainful poker face was the most valuable asset he could cultivate in Lord Frieza's service. He had the ability now to keep the same expression on his face, and more importantly, in his eyes, regardless of the atrocities being committed in front of him. Or on him. The day he had finally perfected the mask he now wore was the day the lizard began to lose interest in him as a battered toy. It had been two years since Frieza had come to his 'bed', two years since he had stifled his inner screams of pain to give this haughty, blank face to his Lord. His outrage at what was done to his body had died away much earlier, when he was still a child. Outrage was not a good survival instinct, and he meant to survive. Survive and triumph one day over the filthy snake who took away anything that could ever make him care.

Not surprisingly, he saw one of the remaining Saiyans moving swiftly across the smooth floor of the training chamber. They were the only soldiers here who seemed to give a damn about maintaining their skill. Then again, the others stationed here knew that they would likely not be called upon to do anything more difficult than putting down native uprisings, few and far between at this point. But the Saiyans trained religiously, even the brutish Nappa.

Vegeta watched with interest as Raditz flawlessly executed a series of spinning kicks, his glorious mane of midnight hair flaring out behind him like a living cape. His last kick took him within a few inches from the curved wall and he kicked out from it gracefully, propelling himself through the air with the strength of his legs alone. He landed in a ready crouch, and was instantly airborne again with a flurry of punches, pummeling an invisible attacker. Raditz had never been a master of his ki, but he certainly knew how to work his skills to their best advantage. He had always been more of a close in fighter, the prince noted, and certainly he had the body for it.

The warrior wore only the close fitting indigo body suit that his prince favored for his training; he had never thought much of Frieza's choice of armor for his troops. Unlike the somehow lascivious armor that offered little in the way of protection for the lower body, this suit covered everything but the arms and head. Yet it seemed more revealing, molded to Raditz' impressive chest, clinging to the sinuous curve of his spine, poured onto the thick knots of his thigh muscles. Bare feet and hands spun through the air in time to the man's tail, bronze skin and warm dark fur the punctuation on the perfect poem of Raditz' body.

"He's so damn big," Vegeta muttered to himself, completely unaware he was doing so. The hard won facade of contemptuous indifference was just as unconsciously cracked as his lips parted slightly, allowing his tongue to lightly taste his upper lip, almost thoughtfully. As the prince watched his subject throw himself ferociously across the room in a savage dance, he pondered how Raditz seemed almost a throwback to earlier times, a Saiyan from the past.

His people had been 'civilized' by aliens, given technological toys, armor, weapons, and more importantly, space craft. But their gifts had come with a price, and the young prince had been fascinated by tales of their earlier savagery. Especially favored by the boy had been the epic story of how they broke free from the chains of the weak Tuffles, and had slaughtered their oppressors to a man. Certainly the Saiyan people were still among the best fighters in the universe, even the three that remained, but sometimes it seemed they had lost some of their instinct for violence and replaced it with reliance on machines.

Not so, Raditz. He was living art, a testament to the old way, the smack of flesh on flesh, the snap of bones breaking, the delicious wet sound of blood drawn by a mighty blow. Maybe it was the wild cascade of hair. Or maybe it was his impossibly tall size that brought back yearnings for an ancient time in the dethroned prince. No, it was that feral gleam in Saiyan- black eyes, that was the true sign.

Saiyan-black eyes that bored into his own as Raditz stared at his liege. Vegeta wondered how long his subject had been staring at him, noting with some shame that the man had landed in a neat crouch and now remained perfectly motionless, his face open with curiosity, lush lips partially open as he breathed heavily from his recent exertion. A humiliating flush spread across Vegeta's cheeks as he snapped his smirk back into place, thumbing the button on the door to open it with a whispering hiss. He stalked into the room, wondering frantically, behind his mask of indifference, why his lips felt slightly damp.

"Raditz," he began, addressing the older warrior commandingly. Though not much older, he reminded himself. They were actually close in age, Raditz only six years the elder. "I was coming here to train. I should kick your sorry ass out, but since you're here, you might as well spar with me." He knew that his act was flawless, his voice perfectly controlled, uncaring. But still, Raditz grinned like he had caught his prince leering at him. Vegeta leaned down to remove his white boots, inwardly furious at the man.

He knew how some of the men spent their time. Rutting in their quarters like animals. Sex was pain, he was taught that a long time ago. He'd passed through puberty with none of the usual urges his peers had, broken by Frieza, but sure his attitude was superior. And now this terrible feeling of confinement raged through his body, and somehow it seemed this man, this infuriating man who stood for everything he felt an undefined longing for: violence and freedom wrapped in one impossibly beautiful package was smirking at him, like he'd been the one doing something wrong. A small voice inside at the back of his head reminded him with some urgency that he hadn't allowed himself to get this worked up over a single person in over two years. If Frieza couldn't evoke this response with all his tortures, how could one low powered idiot do it with merely a quirk of his lips?

"What are grinning at, fool?" Vegeta threw out at the man as he carefully removed his gloves, leaving him in the same blue garb as his opponent, albeit several sizes smaller.

"You, my prince," Raditz responded in a low, sultry tone. "I am pleased that you would honor me with a match."

Sultry? Vegeta wondered why his mind used that particular word to describe Raditz' quite normal tone. "Well, who else am I going to spar with around here? The regulars are shamefully ill-prepared, and Nappa always ruins things with his energy blasts. I swear, the man couldn't fight hand to hand if his life depended on it." He knew it wasn't quite true, but his irritation with his startling reaction to what should be a perfectly mundane situation leaked out through his words. And really, Nappa was a boring partner to train with, nothing like the man who stood waiting before him.

"Then I shall have to hope that I can please my prince with my meager talents." The mockery in Raditz' voice belied his words, he was actually fairly skilled, and knew it. Not the same level as his prince, but still strong. His typical Saiyan arrogance brought a smile to the slight prince's lips, and he motioned for Raditz to begin with a subtle beckoning of his finger.

The warrior wasted no time, launching himself at his prince in a flurry of speed, arm raised and ready to drive into a smirking face. But Vegeta wasn't there, dropping into low crouch and snagging Raditz' leg as he sailed overhead, heaving him into a wall with blinding force. But the longer-haired Saiyan twisted like a cat in his flight, and sprang from the wall back into the fray. The two danced across the floor, exchanging punches and kicks so quickly that the air became a sleeting hiss of sound. But no meaty connections were heard, they both dodged in and out from each others' blows, weaving a pattern of violent beauty for almost an hour.

Vegeta bobbed his head back and forth, avoiding Raditz' fists with some effort. He snarled in frustration as he could land none of his own, however. Something had to break this stalemate, he was tired of playing. He forced his body to remain absolutely still, inwardly grinning as Raditz' fist connected with his shoulder, bringing a smirk of triumph to the larger warrior's lips. But Vegeta's hand shot up, snagging Raditz' wrist in an iron band of fingers and thumb. Extending the arm to its full length, Vegeta swung his whole lower body up, using Raditz for leverage, and kicked him square in the face, sending the man staggering back against the wall, blood glimmering sweetly at the corner of his mouth.

The older man wasted no time thinking of his pain, instead he moved towards his prince once more, dropping low at the last second to ensnare Vegeta's legs, bringing him toppling to the ground. Before he could take advantage of the superior position, however, the smaller man planted his palms on the ground, and forced Raditz off his legs by flinging him ceilingwards. He flipped himself to his feet just in time to feel Raditz crushing elbow smashing into his right shoulder, bringing him to the ground again. Snarling, he spun a kick to the man's jaw, snapping back his head in a pretty spray of blood and black hair. He couldn't help but admire the beauty of the way Raditz took a kick and kept coming, even as he felt his own blood singing in his ears as the Saiyan clamped on to a compact muscular calf, now bleeding profusely from the mouth, the crimson stain washing down his chin and neck. Vegeta wondered idly if the last kick had broken a tooth as he was reeled in by the older warrior.

"Come here," growled Raditz, as he forced his larger body over Vegeta's, moving up to try and pin his liege's arms. Vegeta's inner questioning became suddenly less than idle as he regarded this tactic with unalloyed delight. Scowling fiercely, he forced his own knees up to his chest, wedging them between himself at Raditz. He kicked with desperate force, hoping he was strong enough to dislodge the large man. The crack of Raditz' ribs giving way was startlingly loud, a sharp counterpoint to the heavy panting of exertion as the two men struggled. But still, Raditz would not release his hold, his long fingers digging fiercely into the flesh of Vegeta's upper arms as he continued to crawl upwards, looking to control Vegeta's wrists. His mouth twisted as agony warred with burgeoning triumph on his handsome face, bloody teeth exposed in what could either be a grin or a grimace.

Vegeta himself was struggling inside. Two violent urges, one to writhe under the larger man, and one to crush him utterly, fought for dominance in his head. Both seemed intensely right, and he decided quickly that perhaps the two could be reconciled. He used the compact muscles of his thighs to twist his body to the side, rather than cause any more damage to the other Saiyan's ribs, leaving his hip pressed against Raditz' upper thigh. A full body twist brought him onto his stomach, Raditz' arms crossed behind Vegeta's head as he retained his hold on his prince. Smiling slyly, the prince arched his back, bringing his muscular ass and thighs into warm contact with the older Saiyan's groin, as he released his tail from his own waist to wrap firmly around the other man's hip. He gloried in the gasp of surprise, threaded through with a quiet, stifled moan from the warrior, and he lifted his head, knowing that his flame of black hair was brushing the other Saiyan's cheek softly.

Swaying his hips under Raditz seductively, he was not surprised to feel that the warrior had been very excited by the fight. It wasn't unusual with Saiyans, the fighting and mating urges came from very similar places in their barbaric race. But Vegeta had never used this against his sparring partners, until now. But he no longer felt like questioning his own urges, at least not for now. Later, maybe, but for now all that existed was the man pressed against his back, and the struggle between the two of them. Unknowingly, he bit his lower lip, wondering if his ploy would work.

He inwardly exalted as Raditz did exactly what he wanted, releasing his hold on Vegeta's upper arms to settle one hand at his prince's shoulder, another running along Vegeta's side, fingers brushing firmly against compact muscle and sinew. But he allowed himself first to shiver at the wash of sensation the other Saiyan's touch awakened, a strange pull making itself known in the pit of his stomach. He had no idea what that alien quiver signified, but he really didn't care, he just wanted to feel it again. He pushed more demandingly into the man above him, and was rewarded by a feeling of wet heat being trailed along the back of his neck. Raditz' hair spilled over his shoulder, enveloping him in a scent of unimaginable intoxication as he breathed into the silken waterfall, tasting the other Saiyan through the warm air between them.

But the urge to defeat this man was still strong, and he pulled himself from the sea of sensation with only a little regret. He let his forehead drop to the floor, and then brought his head back bruisingly fast, smashing it into Raditz' face with a wet crunch. He felt the man go limp on top of him, and he slid out from under easily now, pulling himself into a sitting position. Raditz blinked blearily at him, obviously stunned by the blow, and blinded still more by the slick of blood that bathed his face.

"My....prince...?" Raditz seemed confused as he pushed his body slowly to lie on its side, staring up at Vegeta with drowningly deep eyes. His hair pooled around him magnificently, spread across the cool floor of the training chamber. Vegeta, still riding high on adrenaline and instinct, reached out to delicately clear a line of blood from the man's lower lip with his finger. He placed the finger thoughtfully in his mouth, the taste of copper and victory singing softly to him.

"You did well, Raditz. We'll have to do it again some time." Vegeta stood, stretching like a dancer, joyfully relishing the feel of his tired muscles sliding underneath his skin. "But perhaps you should go to the regen tanks, now, hm? Never know when we might be called back to duty." He left the room grinning to himself, and humming a song he hadn't heard in years, something from his childhood that his mother used to sing to him. A song, she had claimed, that had been passed down through ten generations of Saiyan royalty.

* * * * *

The insistent female voice that woke Vegeta both irritating and welcome. Irritating, because of its bland intonations. Welcome, because it meant that he had reached the intended destination, another planet to which he would become the ultimate exterminator. He crawled alertly from the pod, stretching out with a refreshing crackle of joints and muscles. He had landed in the middle of a city, as the power readings for this planet were fairly low. Better to begin at a major population center, when there was no real challenge.

But the screams of the shocked, the wide-eyed faces of the curiosity seekers were not present. Vast buildings towered overhead, walkways arcing glittering paths from colossus to colossus, but no people. And a surprising lack of sound as well, no moving vehicles, no omnipresent hum of machinery. He had landed in some sort of small park, but the grass was a faded, unhealthy looking blue, and while the trees rustled in the breeze, there were no other signs of life.

Vegeta wondered if there had been some sort of early warning to these people...if they had evacuated, or were merely hiding, waiting for the invaders to go away. Scowling, he snapped out quickly, "Computer, give me a quick profile on the inhabitants of this planet."

"Certainly, Prince Vegeta," the computer replied urbanely. "Planet Uk't, population four billion. A humanoid race, this grey-skinned species is known for their love of architecture, and thus this planet is considered a valuable commodity. The highest power level ever recorded here was 231; the average power level is 12. The Uk'tians are the developers of the-"

"Enough," interrupted Vegeta, "Were there any natural disasters noted recently?"

"A flood in the Rghk valley, an area which supplies many of the planet's cities with plant and animal matter for food. A dust hurricane in Jng'bu which took 892 lives, injuring several thousand more."

Vegeta briefly considered contacting the other Saiyans in their respective cities, but dismissed it quickly. He decided to investigate further, first. Perhaps these people had some sort of noise filters employed in this park, and perhaps Uk'tians were not the curious type. He carefully adjusted his armor, as it had a tendency to get skewed during the long journeys spent sleeping. Satisfied, he walked briskly through the foliage to a graceful fence made of some native metal, glinting in the reddish sunlight. One blow of his fist knocked the barrier aside. As soon as he stepped past it, he staggered sideways.

"The smell!" He retched convulsively with the overwhelming stench, his eyes watering and burning with it. He had been in charnel houses before, had in fact created a few in his time, but never had he withstood something this awful in odor. Rotting, putrid flesh. Enough...enough for a whole city. There must have been some sort of barrier on the fence, that he had not smelled this immediately upon arrival.

As he wiped the back of his mouth with his hand, he looked down the green-paved street. Here were vehicles, of both land and air types, lying higgledy-piggledy on top and around each other. Some had occupants...dead occupants by their stillness, though no flies buzzed around to taste of the softening flesh. Many more seemed to have been abandoned. More bodies lay sprawled in the street, their normally grayish skin darkening in this planet's summer sun, turning a brackish green-brown. Vegeta rose into the air, telling himself he needed to get a clearer picture of what was going on. But he corrected himself internally...he just wanted to get some distance from that impossibly awful smell. For while he was comfortable with death in all its guises, he hated what happened afterwards. The way the body broke down, leaving behind something both vulnerable and terrifying.

He spiraled quickly up into the air, swallowing in huge gulps of air as he hit a streaming breeze at higher altitudes. Still, he was not above the level of the buildings, and he concentrated on their amazing forms and geometry. The Uk'tians had defied logic and physics at every turn, designing amazing, fairy-castle type buildings for even the most mundane of purposes. Vegeta was impressed, and could see why the client wanted this place cleared.

His momentary distraction from the morgue of the street was destroyed as he swooped in closer to look at a lead glass window. Inside, what appeared to be an office. In one corner, a dead body curled up against a table of some sort, face stretched into an obscene expression with putrification. In the next window, another body, this one pressed against the glass, stuck there by her own body fluids. The prince pulled himself higher, higher, until finally he was above the entire city, and could examine it all without seeing messy details.

It looked like the whole city had been taken. Disease? He wasn't sure, but he felt the urge to return to his pod screaming at him. Purifiers...yes, there were purifiers in his pod. Whatever had killed these people was obviously contagious, and the prince wanted to be sure he never became such a wretched example of his people. But he could not shirk his duty....he touch his fingers lightly to his scouter, scanning the surrounding area.. Nothing, he saw nothing. The city was truly dead.

With the pod door closed safely behind him, he finally contacted Raditz and Nappa, using his scouter. Quickly relaying a meeting place far beyond the reach of the cities, he allowed the internal systems to go to work, decontaminating him. Vegeta had never really understood the technology of the pods, but then he supposed he didn't have to. That they worked was good enough.

The second moon was on the rise as all three arrived at the small grouping of trees on the windswept grasslands. The prince exited his pod first, letting his dark eyes scan the horizon in a well-ingrained habit. Seeing, sensing nothing, he turned to watch blankly as Nappa crawled from his pod. He restrained the wince that attempted to hijack his face whenever he saw the other Saiyan, and wondered for the thousandth time, if there were only three of his people left in the universe, why did one of them have to be this crude sketch of a man?

As if to taunt him by sheer contrast, to show the prince what a real giant should look like, Raditz pulled himself out of the spherical pod. Wide fingers gripped the outer hull, attached to a bare, muscular arm. The leg of a Titan, also bare, followed, these limbs allowing the exit of the man himself. Vegeta found himself wishing that Raditz did not habitually wear a scouter on these missions, as its bulky curves ruined the grace of the man’s face, interrupted the flow of his magnificent hair. He had been ready for these thoughts, however, had weeks to prepare for them, and this time he managed to keep his face as blank as though he were looking at Nappa.

“So what do the two of you have to report?” He made his voice cold, uninterested.

“Uh…my lord?” asked Nappa, his brutish face contorting in confusion. “I thought you found the same thing we did…that’s why we’re here, isn’t it?”

“Is it, Nappa? Why don’t you answer your prince’s question before you begin making assumptions!”

“Oh, uh, sorry. Well, the place I was at…it was, well, everyone was dead there. Lots of bodies, all rotting, seemed like they’d been dead awhile. Scouter didn’t pick up any power levels.” Nappa glanced over at Raditz, for confirmation, but the darker man merely stared coldly back. “And, uh, that was it.”

“And you, Raditz?”

“The same, my prince. A city that had been decimated by plague, I think. Some sort of disease, it seemed. Some buildings were empty, but most had several bodies in them. Some had many, these places looked like hospitals, maybe some were churches, or places of government. I cannot read the language here, my lord.” Raditz met Vegeta’s cold black eyes with his own fiery ones. But Vegeta was not about to be outdone by even a first class warrior. He stared back unblinking, not allowing how impressed he was by Raditz’ thoroughness to show, even in his eyes.

“Anything else?” he snapped out.

“There is much more I could tell you, lord. Do you want to hear it now?” Raditz utterly ignored Nappa, his sinuous tail flicking back and forth intently. Nappa stared between his prince and Raditz in open confusion.

“Nappa, you will take the Northern hemisphere. I want you to check every population center, every mid-sized town, every tiny village, every dwelling. Raditz, you will do the same for the Southern hemisphere. I want to know if there is any sentient life out there, any at all, any power levels. And don’t rely on your scouters! They are useful tools, but cannot replace your natural senses.” Vegeta ordered the two effortlessly, already thinking ahead to what he would be doing, not even looking at the two Saiyans, instead focusing sightlessly on the horizon.

As though echoing his thoughts, Raditz asked quietly, “And what will you do, lord?”

“I will take the equator. According to the computer, the major medical center for this world is there, in the Eastern reaches, and I will attempt to find out what happened here.”

“As you say, lord.” The warrior bowed his head in respect, and turned to return to his pod.

“Come find me when you are done,” added Vegeta, murmuring words meant only for Raditz to hear. He did not know why he amended his orders, but he did not feel like examining his confused, ridiculous emotions regarding the long-haired Saiyan at this time. They were a weakness, and he had no room for any weakness. No matter how good the tight pulling in his stomach felt as he watched the man turn his head, surprised. No matter how much he wanted to run his hands over those bare thighs, feel the muscles clench beneath golden-brown skin. He watched, outwardly impassive as Raditz studied his face, then quirked a small smile before returning to his pod.

“As my prince wills it.”

* * * * *

Vegeta sat in the long grass, watching the sun begin its slow dip below the horizon. The reddish light tinted the dark flame of his hair, making it seem alive with crimson sparks. He had stripped himself of his armor long ago, knowing there was nothing here that could possibly pose a threat. The dark blue body suit stretched tightly across his shoulders as he leaned forward, resting his forearms on his bent knees. There was a true, wild beauty to this world that Vegeta mourned quietly. Soon its new masters would arrive, and they might choose to eradicate these lonely steppes, bordered by aloof mountains. Possibly they would appreciate what they saw here, and leave it as it was. But the Saiyan doubted it. They never did.

Alone, he allowed the peculiar melancholy to take him. He took great pride in his ability to divest a planet of the parasites that siphoned life from it, as sentient species invariably did. But the planet itself…each had its own rare beauty, its own unique qualities that made up the soul of the land. Even when Vegeta was the one to destroy that soul, to blast a planet from existence, he mourned that loss. The feeling of power gained from annihilating such irreplaceability was beyond any high he ever had. He welcomed the deep sorrow then, that burned his core for his actions. It was one of the only times he allowed himself to feel so deeply.

Vegeta’s tail wove slowly behind him, echoing his mood in its low sweeps and slow passes through the grass. Raditz and Nappa should not be done for days, yet, and now Vegeta admitted to himself why he had sent them off on what was basically busy work. He wanted to be alone, here on this dead, open planet. He was tired of the faces he had to wear, to put on constantly while in the company of others. Here, for a brief moment in time, he could be who he was, not a prince, not a soldier, not a broken toy. Just Vegeta.

The melancholy swam through his mind and body, coloring everything with a bright haze; he felt as though he were swimming through a thick cloud. Standing slowly, he closed his eyes, letting the breeze whisper through his hair, play softly across his face. He removed his gloves dreamily, then leaned down to pull off his pristine white boots. Finally, he pulled his shirt off, leaving only the pants of the body suit. A smile floated across his lips as he reveled in the feel of the wind on his skin. The steppes sang to him as he spun slowly, arms held out to his sides, fingertips skimming the top of the grass, at waist level.

“My prince,” came a quiet murmur from behind him, choked with some unknown emotion, “You are beautiful.”

Vegeta allowed his eyes to drift open once more, but kept his back turned to Raditz. He knew there was nothing to fear from the older warrior. Nothing that he feared in this strange mood, at least. Maybe later he would be upset at the way the other Saiyan so easily tugged at his hidden emotions, but for now, he was dreaming this planet, and dreaming this encounter, so what was there to fear? When the dream ended, then he would face what these feelings meant.

“And you are quiet, Raditz,” he called over his shoulder, letting himself waft forward gently. He could hear the rustle of living silk, Raditz’ hair stroking through the grass as the man took a few steps closer to him. Vegeta could hear the uncertainty in his step, the yearning in the way his body moved. The prince spun, as though through molasses, to face the taller man.

“You found me,” he said simply, exulting in the look of naked desire on Raditz’ face. Wordlessly, Raditz nodded, his self possession gone at the sight of his nearly naked prince, standing like some ancient god of the wilderness. “Come here,” the prince beckoned, letting sooty lashes fall closed on obsidian eyes in a slow blink. As his eyes opened, he saw Raditz was a few feet closer, approaching Vegeta intently, as though stalking some prize game. Vegeta let a smile drift across his lips…it was not the older warrior who was in control here.

Vegeta closed the distance between the two of them, reaching out to snag a thick wrist. Raditz pulled his arm back automatically, but his prince was stronger than he, and he ceased his struggle immediately. With one powerful pull, Vegeta brought the larger man to his knees, so that the prince was looking down into deep pools of blackness. He thought, as he arched down over the other man’s body, that here was the king of dreams, this throwback warrior with the beautiful hair and intriguing eyes.

“But I will be master of my dreams,” he whispered as Raditz’ eyes fluttered closed. He let his lips hover over the other Saiyan’s, breath mingling between the two of them, warming slowly like a small pond on a summer day. It took years, decades, for Vegeta to cross that miniscule distance, to capture Raditz’ lips with his own, their mouth forming a closed circuit between two burning bodies. Nowhere else did they touch, only at the lips, and it was with infinite concentration that Vegeta trailed his tongue into his subject’s mouth, beginning the steps of an intricate dance.

Raditz’ lips thrummed with his low moan, his hands clenched unconsciously at his sides. With a sudden lunge, he brought the front of his body crushing against Vegeta, one arm snaking around his prince’s waist, the other stroking a long line up his back to tangle in his hair. Vegeta twisted his arms around the larger man’s bull neck, lazily enjoying the feel of such a powerful body pressed against his, noting idly that the man must have taken his armor off at some point before his appearance. But most of his attention stayed fixed on the never-ending kiss that threatened to sweep him away permanently. Flicking tongues wove and slid past each other, trading heat and lust in equal amounts. Vegeta could not hold back his low cry of gratification at the intimate contact, amazed at the sheer pleasure such a simple touch could bring.

Letting his hands drop down Raditz’ back, Vegeta smiled into the kiss, his eyes opening to watch the other man’s face as he dug his nails into his back, raking a neat set of lines into Saiyan flesh. The larger warrior’s response was immediate; he gasped into his prince’s mouth, his muscles tightened convulsively, and his arms threatened to snap Vegeta’s ribs. His grip pulled the smaller man off his feet, and the older man used the advantage to press his prince into the ground, riding him down hard into the expanse of soft grass.

Instinctively, Vegeta wrapped his legs around Raditz’ waist, letting his head fall back, finally breaking the impossible kiss. His tail snuck from underneath his body, moving to caress his partner’s hip gently. Raditz moved his head down to nuzzle at his prince’s neck, tongue tracing a line of wet velvet across salty skin. His muscled thigh pressed delightfully against Vegeta’s growing erection, and the prince sighed blissfully. He pondered what an amazing dream this was as Raditz set his teeth carefully to his neck, marking down his throat, but not breaking the skin yet. His black eyes watched clouds stream slowly by, blown by the same winds that played with the long strands of Raditz’ hair, threatening to engulf him. He pulled in a long breath, tasting the tang of grass and earth mixed pleasantly with the richer musk of Raditz, combining to make a delicious spice that would forever be the marker in his memory for this moment of freedom.

His hair, oh his glorious hair, Vegeta tangled his hands in it, rubbed his face in it as Raditz moved to lap at the base of his throat, tongue tracing spiraling circles down his bare chest. Raditz growled against his skin, moving his tongue to weave delicious patterns of warmth and moisture over Vegeta’s nipples, hardened in the cool breeze. Vegeta let his mouth fall open this time as he groaned, his own tongue tasting his upper lip, completely absorbed by the sensations of lips playing on his flesh. The wind carried his animal noises of pleasure away, to dance through the grass.

Still, Raditz moved ever lower, now brushing his teeth across his prince’s ribs, stopping briefly to nip at the firm flesh of Vegeta’s stomach, pleased at the lack of give. Vegeta continued to stare at the sky through his captured curtain of hair, until a sudden bolt of sensation rippled up his spine. His tail…something soft, but firm was stroking along the pelt of his tail. He pushed himself from the ground, bracing himself with his palms in the warm earth. Here were Raditz’ hands, holding firm at his hips, and his subject’s eyes, staring up at him with a ferocious grin in their inky depths, and…again, the jolt of sheer pleasure derailed his thoughts, this time causing him to cry aloud. He panted through his moan, eyes finally falling to his tail, where it lay twitching against Raditz’ lower back. And twined around it, Raditz’ tail, stroking along the length teasingly.

Vegeta pulled his gaze back to his lover’s, and this time when the intense sensation hit, he only narrowed his own eyes, watching Raditz’ face. A smirk of satisfaction lit his features as he watched the larger man’s face contort with the same bliss he was feeling, eyes closed at the overwhelming sensation. So this was a dance for two, he thought, as he wrapped his tail around the base of Raditz’, delighting at making his partner shudder and moan into his stomach.

He arched his body in an unconsciously graceful curve as he leaned over, setting his lips at his lover’s ear. “Raditzu,” he murmured, “I didn’t tell you to stop.”

The older Saiyan’s eyes flew open, and he stared up fearlessly into his prince’s passionate gaze. “I’m sorry, my lord,” he answered in an equally low tone, and when Vegeta’s tail moved over his again, the warrior only half-closed his eyes, instead hooking his fingers into the waistband of Vegeta’s body suit, pulling the pants over slender hips and exposing the prince’s erection to the laughing wind. Vegeta shuddered at the contrast of sensations, Raditz’ warm body heavy as it pinned his legs to the ground and the pleasant sting of the wind as it also worshipped his body. He wondered if Raditz felt it, too, the way the earth, in this dream, cried out for the two lovers to continue, to take their joy in each other.

All thought was wiped from his mind the second Raditz’ tongue flickered across the head of his sex. The wind became a sudden sharp ache against the now moist flesh, and Vegeta could not stop his hips from bucking upward, moaning as Raditz laughingly engulfed the head in his burning mouth, swirling his tongue enticingly. Vegeta grabbed great handfuls of hair as he fell backwards, covering himself in its silken embrace as Raditz slowly slid down the length of him. Every single thing about this moment was sharply defined: the gloriously new sensation of Raditz’ mouth working on his erection greedily, the tickle of grass beneath his shoulder blades and ass, the intermittent glitter of sensation from his tail as it entwined contentedly with his lover’s, the sharply welcome pain of his teeth biting his lower lip as he whispered his pleasure to the wind.

The contrail from the third Saiyan space pod failed to arouse much of a reaction from the prince, he was too caught in the moment to care. But the insistently growing hum it made caused Raditz to briefly look upward and scowl ferociously. “My lord,” he began, disappointment writ large across his feral features.

“I know,” Vegeta replied, sighing. As much as he wished to continue, and the gods be damned what Nappa thought about their little tryst, he didn’t trust the third man. Not that Nappa would go running to Frieza, he was undoubtedly loyal, but the oaf had a habit of running his mouth where he shouldn’t. And Frieza had a way of hearing things…Vegeta had no desire to see his lover ripped away by a newly re-interested Frieza. Or worse, taken for Frieza’s own.

Raditz rested his cheek briefly against Vegeta’s sex, giving it a tender kiss before lifting his weight and moving up his prince’s body. His lips held the frustration of unfinished acts and the passion of a man who has just discovered that his heart’s desire might indeed be obtainable. Vegeta returned the kiss with promises of his own, cradling Raditz’ face in his cupped palms as he whispered to his subject, “We are not finished here.”

Raditz nodded as he gained his feet gracefully, pulling the smaller man along with him. Vegeta pulled his pants over his hips and stood staring off into the distance, waiting for the unwelcome visitor to arrive with his customary scowl, not even bothering to replace the rest of his discarded clothing.

* * * * *

The prince of all Saiyans paced his quarters fitfully, his face contorting in a variety of expressions, anger paramount. After exposing himself and his remaining subjects to a deadly plague for the profit of others, after forcing himself to venture into the dead halls of the Uk’tian hospitals, picking through the remains of a people only newly rotted, here was his reward for faithful service. Quarantine. Vegeta knew the call was bullshit, the purifiers in the space pods were quite capable of handling even the worst contamination. Indeed, upon arriving back at base, the usual checkpoints were passed through with ease.

It was from on high the orders came, to keep him and his men in the quarantine wing of the base. Cramped quarters, little company, and worse, no training facilities! He didn’t know what little game Frieza was playing, but he wasn’t pleased at being the game piece of choice. Possibly the tyrant was angry because Vegeta’s report lost him the rich fee that was promised for Uk’t. Or, more likely, he simply enjoyed irritating the prince. It was ridiculous, but the lizard seemed almost resentful that he didn’t have the Saiyan to torture any longer, though it was his own decision to throw away the prince. So he chose these petty torments instead, stationing Vegeta at the farthest outposts, sending him to the weakest planets, and now this farce.

His feet flew noiselessly across the carpeted floor as he paced. He supposed these quarters were serviceable; he didn’t require much in the way of amenities, and they had allowed him some of his own clothes. It was simply the fact that he was constrained that irked him. For another week, no less. He had never been able to stand inaction, and this forced confinement was impossible. Of course, he could have smashed his way out of the quarantine wing with little difficulty, but he knew that Frieza would simply think of something worse. From rape and mutilation to bureaucratic nonsense. Vegeta snorted disdainfully. The man was weak, if not physically, then mentally.

Of course, there were other things to consider as well. What had happened between himself and Raditz had been gnawing steadily at the edges of his mind. He had no idea how he should deal with it. Vegeta felt so young, at times. When it came to commanding subjects, or planning military actions, he was years beyond most of his peers. But as a child, he had no playmates, no other children, just adults surrounding him, drilling his responsibilities into him, training him. And then Frieza, hardly the best person to teach a young Vegeta the intricacies of interpersonal relationships.

He honestly had no idea how he felt about Raditz. Lust, certainly, but he wasn’t sure that wasn’t just some sort of late puberty thing. Raditz was clearly attractive, he’d seen the way other soldiers eyed the passing Saiyan. So maybe this was a purely physical thing. That would be shocking in and of itself, he was certain Frieza had burned that out of him long ago. But Vegeta had always been quick to assimilate new information, and from his encounters with Raditz, he was fairly certain that some urge definitely still existed in him. He was still pretty sure sex was pain, but maybe the pain could be a good thing. It was strange the way he partitioned that broken, screaming part of himself away from this new side. They were two separate entities. Maybe, in the future, he would be strong enough to be able to integrate the traumatized part of himself, but two years was not long enough by far to deal with the damage.

So the whole affair with Raditz was completely new territory to the young prince. His most prominent instinct was to turn all of his confusion into anger, and simply beat the older warrior senseless. It would certainly simplify things, at least in the short term. But he doubted even the satisfying thud of his fist in Raditz’ flesh could devastate the slow blossom of emotion that was taking root in his heart. Vegeta only had the faintest idea of what love was, and it was mixed up in his mind with the desperate desire he had to please his father. He did not feel that way about Raditz, and so he knew he could not be in love with the man. But certainly there was some sort of affection, and he had to admit to himself that there was more there than lust.

He stopped in mid step, listening intently at the door. Voices coming down the hall…then passing by. The quarantine wing held several other soldiers beside the Saiyans, and Vegeta had seen them in passing, or in the mess hall. Uninteresting in general, and at least three of the four did not speak his language. They jabbered to each other in some grating tongue, high pitched and irritating, nothing like the guttural speech of the ancient Saiyans. He snorted again, disgusted by his own anxiety. Raditz would be here soon enough. If he had not decided what to do by then, perhaps he would just kill the man.

He wandered over to one of the few windows in the wing, looking out at the rain striking the glass insistently. The lightning storms here were truly spectacular, but rare. This squall would not likely evolve into that magnificent display of furious energy. His reflection in the window looked back at him with his own onyx eyes, matching the flaming upsweep of his hair perfectly. He scrutinized his reflection, wondering if he looked good. The black pants he wore fit snugly, soft cloth smoothing the harsh lines of his muscular calves and thighs. The cowled neck of the dark blue shirt he wore was equally proficient in showing off the strong lines of his neck and shoulders, the sleeves just a little too long, covering his wrists, adding just the right touch of softness. But Vegeta was unaware of all this, only saw a confused boy staring back at him. He had no practice at dressing for others, and had never noticed that the stares often directed Raditz’ way lingered on him, as well.

He leaned his forehead against the cool glass, making a decision then and there. No more analysis, no more questioning. He was a prince of a dead people, gods damn it all, and he would do as he pleased. The knock at his door startled him from his reverie, and he pulled back from the glass and the small spot of fog he had left with his breath.

“Open,” he murmured, still with his back turned to the door. He heard the hiss of the pneumatics, then the soft footsteps of his subject.

“My lord?” Raditz asked, uncertainty mixed with a thread of anticipation in his whiskey voice.

“Yes, Raditz?”

“I am here as you have asked. What is it you wish of me?” Vegeta supposed Raditz was right to be uncertain…his liege had avoided him for the last two weeks, said no more than a few sentences to him in all that time. An arduous task considering the tightness of the living space.

Vegeta turned unhurriedly, letting his eyes fall on the other Saiyan slowly, devouring the man visually. Obviously Raditz thought something might happen tonight, for he had dressed for the occasion. A long sleeved crimson shirt, of some thin, floating silk-like material caressed his broad chest and shoulders beautifully. The first few buttons were undone, baring his throat. The bright red set off his spill of black hair perfectly, and the shirt flowed loose over his hips. Black hide wrapped his legs, so tight his pants looked like they had been poured on. Short black boots completed the outfit, laced neatly. He stood there, staring back at Vegeta with a slight twist of his lips, a smile that said he knew exactly how good he looked.

Vegeta was impressed. That now familiar pull in the pit of his stomach clamped down full force, causing him to draw in a rushed breath. A breath that only made things worse, for now he had Raditz’ scent in his nostrils, that rich, earthy scent only somewhat faded by the surroundings. And his tail…it swayed slowly behind him, lazily beckoning as it cut through all that hair. Vegeta found his own tail responding as he stood hypnotized, slithering from around his waist to dance in time behind him.

“My prince?” Raditz asked again, some of the uncertainty gone now, replaced by his old arrogance. Vegeta tore his eyes from that seductive tail, and looked the other Saiyan in the face once more.

“Yes, Raditz. I summoned you here because…well, I suppose because I was bored.” Vegeta stalked across the room, throwing himself onto the sparse couch, one leg pulled up to his chest, the other left hanging over the side. Raditz watched his every movement intently.

“So you wished me to entertain you?” the larger Saiyan asked archly, remaining standing.

“I did not know Saiyans were pet monkeys, to dance and caper at anyone’s whim,” bit out Vegeta coldly.

“We’re not, my lord. But when the prince of all Saiyans commands me, I must at least consider the request.”

Vegeta stifled a laugh of delight at the man’s daring. “Consider my request?” he asked, allowing outrage to tint his voice.

“Of course, my lord. Though I am terribly busy, so perhaps you should make it quick.”

Vegeta leapt to his feet, hiding his gleeful smile as he charged the larger man, landing a heavy blow to his gut. Raditz flew back across the room, slamming against the wall with a resounding crash. Grinning, he leapt for his prince, arms out stretched. Vegeta side stepped easily, and used the man’s momentum to send him headfirst into the opposite wall. Now the smaller warrior was laughing as Raditz charged in low this time, taking him to the ground in a flying tackle.

“Now this seems terribly familiar,” Vegeta chuckled as Raditz began to crawl up his body. But this time he used his hips to flip Raditz over onto his back, and quickly pulled himself up so he perched lightly on the man’s chest, admiring the way his hair spilled like a corona of dark fire around his head.

“You seem to have me at a disadvantage,” Raditz grinned up at his prince.

“I always have you at a disadvantage, Raditz,” Vegeta commented dryly. He considered the man beneath him thoughtfully. Raditz was definitely weaker than his prince, would probably never become much stronger than he was now, but he was so persistent. His constant drive to succeed regardless of the odds was pure Saiyan, and Vegeta admired him for it. He leaned down to capture the older man’s lips, crushing them forcefully. Raditz responded willingly, his mouth opening eagerly for Vegeta’s tongue. Vegeta’s tail flicked back and forth intently as he speared his way into Raditz’ mouth, warring with the other Saiyan’s tongue hungrily.

As quickly as he began, Vegeta pulled back from Raditz, and was suddenly back on the couch, leaving the larger man gasping on the floor. “Now, Raditz, since you suggested it, you will entertain me.”

Raditz pushed himself up on one elbow, and rolled over onto his side. Scarlet and black, he painted a delectable picture with his body. His tail waved invitingly as he responded, purring, “As my prince wishes. And what shall I do to entertain?”

Vegeta considered the question seriously. Raditz was truly splendid in that leather and silk, but his body was too tempting a draw. “First, you will remove that shirt,” he commanded imperiously. Raditz complied willingly, but leisurely. His long fingers went to the buttons almost casually, undoing the top, then the next one down, and so on. It seemed to take forever, and Vegeta’s eyes were captured by the golden line of flesh being slowly revealed. Finally finished with the buttons, the large Saiyan slipped the silk over his shoulders and slowly down his arms, until the shirt hung like a shawl behind him, anchored at his elbows. Letting his arms drop, the shirt slid down to fall in a crimson pool behind him.

Vegeta remained silent, his entire attention focused on the visual feast before him. Raditz’ torso was magnificently proportioned, broad and muscular, crisscrossed with glistening scars. He hardly thought to breathe as he devoured that perfect body with his eyes, finally glancing upward to the older man’s face. He saw his own lust mirrored there as Raditz stared back at him boldly, his cocky smile challenging his prince.

“The boots,” Vegeta managed to get out, his voice thick with desire. With that same unhurried pace, Raditz leaned over to undo his boots. His broad back was somehow even more impressive than his front, muscles sliding under tanned skin lusciously. The prince watched his thick arms unabashedly as the warrior removed first one boot, then the other, returning to a standing position once more.

“Shall I remove my pants, my lord?” Raditz asked, one expressive black brow arching over his obsidian eyes. Vegeta merely nodded, not trusting his voice any longer. Raditz slid his hands slowly down his torso, fingers moving smoothly over his perfectly defined abs before deftly undoing the buttons on his pants. He hooked his fingers into the waistband, very slowly skinning black leather over his powerful hips. Vegeta’s lips parted, his breath held in anticipation as his eyes followed the line of soft, dark hair that began low on Raditz’ stomach. The pants were peeled off, rolled down impressive thighs, then pushed to fall to the floor. As he stepped out of them, the older Saiyan met his prince’s eyes once again, daring him.

Vegeta rose from the couch as though in a trance. He could hardly believe that such a beautiful creature could exist, and existing, could be standing naked before him practically begging to be fucked. His steps were slow as he approached the larger man, drinking him in. The prince reached out one delicate hand, let his fingers slide lightly over Raditz’ shoulder as he circled him. He felt his fingers should blister at the heat as he let them trace along the collarbone, then around the neck, a thick weight of hair covering his wrist as he walked behind him. The man’s eager tail was swaying seductively behind him, caressing his backside and thighs lasciviously. Leaning in, the prince buried his face in Raditz’ hair, taking huge gulps of air through living silk. His smaller hands grabbed at the base of the larger man’s tail, and he thrilled at the startled moan he drew from Raditz as his fingers stroked along the flexible length of it.

Vegeta considered chiding the man for his lack of restraint as he felt Raditz spin and push forward, pinning his liege to the couch violently. But he found himself unable to do so as the older warrior pressed burning lips to his own, invading his mouth demandingly. Instead, he allowed his attention to be absorbed by the heat of wet velvet in his mouth, tangling around his own tongue, and the delicious feel of large hands pushing up his shirt, exploring his stomach, then chest. When callused fingers found the hard nubs of his nipples, Vegeta cried softly into his lover’s ravishing mouth. Soon those strong hands were rending his shirt from his body, thick material shredded with little effort. Vegeta dragged himself away from the kiss, eager to taste more of his new discovery.

The prince leaned in to lick curiously at Raditz’ neck, fascinated by the sweet-salty flavor combined with humming vibration as the other Saiyan moaned throatily. Almost as intriguing was the glorious friction of his chest pressed against his lover’s, the shiver of his skin as his nipples rubbed against heated, moist flesh. And the hard length of arousal weighing insistently against his inner thigh. He relished the way his breath mingled with the musky smell of Raditz’ skin, intoxicating him.

“Please...my lord...” Raditz growled, his arms pressed to either side of Vegeta’s waist. Vegeta was unsure what he was asking, so pulled back from his throat to look at him inquiringly. Raditz shook his head impatiently, rumbling his frustration deep in his chest, and seized Vegeta’s pants insistently. The prince’s mouth moved to form a negation, but he was too late, as the burly Saiyan rent his pants in the same way as his shirt. He collapsed back against the couch as Raditz leaned in to claim another kiss, an electric thrill rushing through him as the larger man’s erection rubbed against his delectably. Vegeta felt overwhelmed by sensation, the fire of mouths and flesh pressed together, every movement eliciting a moan from swollen lips and overheated throat.

He groaned in disappointment as Raditz pulled back, but as the other Saiyan began kissing down the long line of his neck, he smiled to the furious rain beating on the window. Lips laid a trail of passion lower, playing enticingly over his nipples before continuing down to taste his stomach, then the curved line of his hipbones. The sensation hovered painfully between ticklish and wonderful, and he squirmed beneath his captor, his tongue tasting the air importunately. Those tormenting lips moved to trace his inner thigh, and he felt himself shattering inside, unable to wait.

“Now, Raditz,” he whispered, unsure if his lover could even hear him. His thought was answered, as a marvelously warm moisture dropped over the head of his arousal, delicious pressure swirling maddeningly over him. He couldn’t restrain the almost screaming moan that escaped him as he felt himself washed away on a tide of amazing pleasure. But the journey was only just begun, as he discovered when Raditz’ mouth began moving on him, sliding over his length and down him, sucking him into to its dark depth. His back arched violently as that warmth was removed once more to the very tip, teasing with butterfly light flickers.

“Gods!” he cried to quiet the raging thunder of his heart as the overwhelming sensations were repeated to the point of ecstasy. His hands fisted in his lover’s hair as his tail whipped behind him, furiously agitated. But suddenly that intense pressure was gone, and he opened his eyes to stare angrily into the desire drowned ebony orbs that were now above him. He growled threateningly at Raditz as the man moved to straddle his waist, pinning him down with the weight of his giant’s body. But his lover merely smiled at him, and leaned in to kiss him again. Instead, Vegeta ravaged the other Saiyan’s mouth, biting into his lower lip savagely. The instantaneous flow of blood was perfection incarnate.

Raditz moaned into him as he suckled at his lower lip, but he was distracted by the pressure suddenly moving over the head of his arousal. Slicked with his subject’s attentions, he slipped slowly into Raditz as the man lowered himself down on his prince. His back stiffened, mouth torn away from the kiss, his black eyes wide with shock as his erection was gradually enveloped into a cavern of tight, glorious heat. He watched incredulously as a flush bloomed in his lover’s cheeks, the man’s eyes closed in his ecstasy. The weight of the other Saiyan settled firmly on his thighs as his felt himself completely encased in flesh. Those beautiful obsidian eyes slowly fluttered open again, and fixed on him as the other man leaned forward, his hands pressed against the wall behind the coupling pair.

The larger Saiyan’s hair fell forward, covering Vegeta in a soft, scented embrace. His eyes were fixed on the other’s, his skin screaming with the touch of his lover, his mouth and nose filled with Raditz’ scent and taste, his mind overwhelmed with this beautifully carnal act. And then Raditz began to move, and the prince was swept away in a sort of glorious agony. A cry was ripped from his throat as he drowned in pleasure and desire, dying in delicious anguish. The other Saiyan leaned in to breath in his ear, “Please, my prince.”

This time there was no doubt in Vegeta’s mind to what his vassal’s intentions were. Fighting through a haze of brilliant sensation, he moved his hand slowly to his lips, wetting his palm and digits languidly. Then he used his fingers to delicately contact his lover’s sex, feeling carefully along the thick length. He smiled up at Raditz as the other Saiyan shuddered at his touch, his mouth falling open in a wonderful misery to match his prince’s. Vegeta took a firmer hold, lubricating the larger man’s length slickly, and sliding his hand over the velvety flesh unrelentingly, as he abandoned himself to passion.

Both men began to move faster as satisfaction approached, and cries and groans mingled harmoniously, encapsulated by a curtain of black hair. Movement became less rhythmic and controlled, as muscles tensed and quaked under the onslaught of ecstasy. Seconds before his prince, Raditz threw his head back and screamed his completion, his tail making a perfect curve outwards, then back in to touch his upper back. His thighs and buttocks clenched mightily, hurtling Vegeta over the edge. His mind went completely blank as he came, electrical impulses firing wildly in a sort of seizure of sheer pleasure as he ripped his throat raw with his cries.

Moments later, Raditz collapsed over his prince, breathing heavily, huskily in Vegeta’s ear, little groans still flavoring his panting. The smaller Saiyan buried his face in the other man’s neck, breathing in his scent dreamily, still tasting his lover’s blood on his lips. They sat that way for long minutes, before Raditz finally pulled back, his face aglow with something completely unfamiliar to Vegeta, though triumph was a part of it. The older warrior wetly pulled himself off his prince, maneuvering himself into half reclining position before pulling Vegeta to rest against his scarred chest. The prince wanted to object to this, but the gentle feel of thick fingers brushing softly through his hair quieted him. He allowed himself to relax into his lover’s arms, a contented purr rumbling through him. Raditz’ purr answered him, and the younger man felt his tail waving lazily behind him.

Vegeta had no paradigm, no ideas on how he should deal with what just happened. He only knew he felt warm and contented and perfectly at peace for the first time since he had been a very small child. So he did not mind when Raditz began singing to him softly, his voice surprisingly good, a mellow baritone. It was a song he had heard before, in the ancient tongue, and its rhythms both enflamed and disquieted him. It was a song all first class warriors were taught...of a low born soldier who pledged himself to the crown, and loved his king from afar. But unable to consummate that love, he instead strived to surpass all others in his perfect service. As so many Saiyan love songs ended, the soldier died, saving his king’s life. The last notes of the graceful dirge lingered in the air, and he heard Raditz sigh against the flaming upsweep of his hair.

“I will always love you, my prince.”

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