Finally, I’m working on this again. This part is a bit nicer, but if you get confused by any characters actions, it will be explained later.

Disclaimer: Akira Toriyama, people. Not me.

Warnings: yaoi, lemon, self-injury, language

Thoughts: ‘blah’

Where Kakarott is King Pt3

Vegeta’s POV

I lay curled in on myself on my satin sheet covered bed, unsure of how I had gotten there and how much time had passed, though the sun was a blinding light outside my window.

Surprised, I found myself trembling, tears lining my sob-swollen cheeks. My nail clung desperately to the soft skin of my calves, opening unintentional wounds.

‘How have I let myself get like this? I allowed what happened. It’s all my fault. Poking into the Prince’s private business . . . I deserved it. All suffering is my own benefit.’

Suddenly, my heavy, polished oak door swung open, slamming into the wall behind it, revealing an enraged Kakarott, fuming.

"You are to report to my chambers promptly at seven," he ordered, angrily indicating the digital clock on my bedside table. With that, the door found its way loudly back into its slot, and I went back to my demented thought loop.

Kakarott’s POV

I took a long sip of the herbal tea I had ordered up to my room, finally relaxing. I had no idea what had made me yell at Vegeta as I did, but I was going to make it up.

Draining the delicate china cup, I sat it on my bedside table, depressing a button that linked directly to the servants in the basement.

"Laith," I called my most faithful servant, one sure to keep my secrets safe from my father.

"Yes, Ouji?" he answered, his tenor voice slightly distorted by the speaker box.

"I need some things. Only you are to bring them, no other."

"Yes, Sire. What do you require?"

"Well," I started.

King Kakarott’s POV

I sat silently through the boring meeting on my planet’s moon, reinstating our alliance with the native race of this planet. I doodled, not quite listening until my name was spoken.

"Kakarott?"

"Yes?" I searched for the source of the voice, finding it originating from the gentle queen of Quaid.

"Why is your son not here? Is it not near time for him to choose a mate from our planet? To seal our alliance, making sure the pact will not be broken?"

"Uh . . ." I stalled, trying to come up with a suitable excuse. "He’s . . . ill. I left him at home so as not to contaminate your beautiful people."

She nodded, the real reason unknown to her. My son was stronger than me.

Kakarott’s POV

"That should be it, Laith," I nodded to myself. "Please hurry with it. I must get it all in place before seven this evening."

"Of course, Sire." With that, I let my hand fall to my side, the speaker now shut off.

Vegeta’s POV

Time was nothing to me until my bleary eyes noted the numbers set at 6:55.

‘Gods . . . might as well go. It is sure to be much worse if he has to come and get me,’ I sighed to myself, forcing my weak and sore body from the cushion of my bed, not bothering to straighten my rumpled hair and bed shorts.

I wobbled out of my door, rapping weakly on the one directly across from it.

Gently, the knob turned, revealing a room anew. No conventional light was on, the chambers flickering in the soft light from hundreds of blood-red and black candles. The bed was modified also, the sheets black with scarlet trimming and pillows, a heavy crimson cloth hanging from the four posters, pulled back on one side.

I gasped audibly, halfway expecting chains and whips. Suddenly, Kakarott’s large, gentle hand grasped my wrist, startling me our of my reverie.

He pulled me into the room as if I were fine china, shutting the door quietly, softly directing me to sit upon the smooth surface of the bed. The Prince perched beside me, releasing my hand, his inquisitive, sparkling midnight eyes focused on my face. My eyes traveled elsewhere, knowing pain was twisted somewhere in this pretty plot of his.

"Vegeta," his sleek voice attempted to recapture my eyes. I just directed them over his head, making it appear that I was looking at him. "I . . . I’m sorry."

I very nearly chuckled in my misery. Him . . . Sorry?

"Please, really I am." Must’ve been able to read the disbelief straight from my face. "I only did . . . that . . . to you because, it was the only way I could have you. I need you and I knew you would only push me away. It was the only way I could see." All uttered in a voice that dripped with sincerity, too much to be believed.

The orbs perched in my face again went on a trip, landing on the bedside table, startled to see two cherry wood bowls, one filled with ice and the other with oil, the tools of the suductor.

"Vegeta," Kakarott’s voice was more demanding this time, and his hand gripped my chin, turning my head to look in his eyes. Many feelings were there, the most readable ones love, fear, and lust. My heart clenched at the thought of another night like the last.

His full lips dipped for mine, finding their target easily. I kissed back weakly, trying to push him away with my mind.

The Prince pulled back. "Gods, Vegeta," Kakarott sounded near tears. "I didn’t know I did this to you. I never meant to. I just . . . go a little out of control. Please forgive me."

Crystalline blood flew from my eyes. I was just so tired. Tired of being hurt and tired of trying to prevent it.

Again Kakarott dove for my mouth, and I responded heavily, pouring all of my feelings, all my turmoil and anger, into the kiss. Our mouths melded together, hot tongues battling as if for life. Some of my tears fell into the mix, least of my notice.

My focus was on the tongue in my mouth and the hand on my neck, spreading a fruity smelling oil generously across its left side.

Slowly, Kakarott broke the kiss, going full out for my neck, leaning me down steadily to rest upon the satin clothed pillows.

The Prince’s tongue gently laved at the oil, clearing it from my skin. I leaned my head to the side almost unwillingly, giving Kakarott more room.

"Gods, Vegeta," his voice breathed over my ear huskily. "I never meant to hurt you. Please let me make it up to you."

Kakarott’s POV

Vegeta just lay silent under me, his eyes half-lidded. I took his silence for conformation.

Gently, I let my hands slip over his chest, taking in the soft skin and lean muscles. My lips wandered around his jawline, behind his ear. Slight noises squeaked from Vegeta’s slightly parted lips as my thumb and forefinger found one of his nipples.

I tugged and twisted slightly, sure not to hurt my lover. Letting my mouth lave lower, over his collarbone, I teased the other nub decorating Vegeta’s chest. Louder this time were his cries, however slightly. The sounds went straight to my clothed crotch, jolting it awake.

Finally, after thoroughly exploring Vegeta’s upper chest, my swollen lips landed upon a hard nipple. I took the nub into my mouth, letting my tongue play with it before gently nipping the rosy skin. Yet another sinful noise departs from my sweet lover’s lips. I decide that I’ve had enough teasing him.

I ease back, wrapping Vegeta’s trim waist and pulling him onto my lap as I sit in the middle of the now slightly skewed sheets. His face is blushed pleasantly, more than a bit of an erection pressing against my stomach. I bypass his lips in favor of his ears.

"Vegeta, may I pleasure you?"

He nods, looking slightly dazed, as if he wanted to be lost.

I smoothly lay him back, his head propped up on the feather pillows as I descend, taking his thin cotton night shorts with me. I kneel face-to-face with his erection, letting my tongue out for a feather-light taste of his head.

Vegeta groans, his eyes focused intently upon me.

Vegeta’s POV

‘Oh, Gods . . . why, how did you get me in such a wonderful spot?’

Kakarott had finally taken me fully into his hot mouth, sucking hard with each pull back. I moaned lowly, my head tossed back, my hands fists in the sheets, forcing myself lost in the sensation. Anything to ignore the storm of my soul.

Suddenly, the Prince pulled back and I groaned loudly, desperate at losing contact so quickly. Then, he devoured me again, something desperately cold running smoothly over my length, circling around the head.

I screamed, my hips bucking wildly, half trying to escape and half begging for more. Kakarott’s large hands grasped my hips, pressing them firmly to the bed to quell all motion.

Again he began his slow sucking, heat and cold swirling blindly around me, sparks of white erupting from my clenched eyelids. I felt tears on my face, for the first time not from pain.

With one last desperate jerk, I released my creamy seed into Kakarott’s waiting mouth.

He released my limp member after allowing me to live out the throws of my orgasm, swallowing deeply.

My whole body exhausted, sated, I lay on my back, looking to my Ouji for further instruction.

"Here, Vegeta," he muttered calmly. "I’ll help you to your room. You need your rest."

In a few minutes’ time, I lay on my side, curled deeply in my bedcovers, already drifting off.

- - - - -

My eyes flew open, barely managing to bring the clock into focus. 2:11. Damn.

Suddenly I realized why my body felt so relaxed.

‘You . . . you dirty whore!’ I berated myself. ‘You let him use you again! You weak slut!’

I felt the dirt in me, burrowing deeper. I flopped out of bed, not bothering with any clothing, intending on making my body pay.

I felt my way to a small dining hall I had found in a wing just beside Kakarott’s. Digging through the cutlery drawers, I finally located a sharp knife with a deep ebony handle.

Treading back to my room lightly, I though of the place Kakarott would be least likely to notice my self injury. As I entered my room, flipping on the small bedside lamp, I decided on my ankle. If he ever saw it, I could tell him I ran into something.

Pulling the chosen limb into my lap, I put the knife’s edge to the pale skin, gently drawing it back. A small line formed, just barely any blood, no pain at all.

‘I need this pain. I deserve it,’ I repeated to myself as I carved deeper and deeper into the skin, making it ragged and bloody, delightful pain shooting from it in electronic waves.

Finally, I dropped the blood spattered weapon to the floor, licking my wound clean. Deep in the skin lay a lone word. WEAK.

- - - - -

I really enjoyed that one. Vegeta’s experience with self-injury is based on my own, and it felt good to get that out. This chapter turned out much better that the original one on my other comp.

I warn you, please never start injuring yourself. From personal experience, I know just how hard it is to quit. Damn near impossible. So don’t start in the first place. If you feel you need to hurt yourself and need someone to listen, please call the Youth Crisis Hotline: 800-488-4663. This is a national hotline for the USA. If you live in other countries, please go to http://suicidehotlines.com/international.html to find a number or center near you.