Baby Don't Cry
by ThatKanraGirl     More by this Writer
Mirai is the heir to the Saiyan throne. Gohan is his personal bodyguard and fodder for treason now that he's marked the prince for himself. Whether he regrets it or not, however, is an entirely different tale.

Sleep plagued Gohan that night. He tossed and turned in the black of his quarters, the light of the full moon blocked by reinforced shutters having been shut for the duration of its stay about the palace. In the past it wouldn’t have bothered him one bit, though he would admit that sometimes it was eerie when it was so quiet but that night was different.

Leaning over he flicked on the light of the lamp at his bedside and flopped back to the bed, irritable. Gohan rolled for a time he had lost count of, his eyes catching the mark on the inside of wrist. He stared for a long moment, thinking of the prince on the other side of the wall. A slight smile formed on his lips, remembering the possessive growl Mirai let out before sinking his teeth into him, claiming him for himself. Gohan thought it was something of a shame that
Mirai couldn’t ever see the mark he had left on the back of his neck, as there was something sort of gratifying about knowing he belonged to somebody.

In letting his mind wander he had briefly forgotten the issue of lack of sleep. When he was allowed it to think that Mirai was just on the other side of that door, more than likely naked from the need of having his mate beside him burning him up and writhing to get comfortable in his large bed, however, his smile fell. A soft groan of desperation to touch him molded his lips. His first full moon as the prince’s mate left him wanting, but he wouldn’t give in to the temptation to touch him. That was the catch to falling for royalty – they had to put their people first and themselves last.

Both Gohan’s and Mirai’s choices had been certain – they had known what it meant for them when the full moon came around. The only regret they held now was that it was the agony they had left each other in once a month.

It had been Mirai’s decision to not separate for the time, begging Gohan to stay with him, even if he couldn’t see him. He had only wanted him close, and Gohan had reluctantly agreed, finding it impossible to say no to the desperation in his prince’s features.

Hours had gone by since then, the majority of the time spent in solitude without so much as a whisper for one another, and the way Gohan’s body burned he guessed the night was at its highest peak. Sweat rolled down the back of his neck and it caused him to shiver, unable to help the small sound that fell from his lips. Clamping his eyes shut he tried to calm his body down, but the help it provided was barely marginal to the heat he was radiating. He heaved a shuddering breath as his mind fought to stay in control, and for a split second his mind became completely calm.

A sound of a sob resonated in his head, echoing in the emptiness like a clear bell. In an instant Gohan’s eyes had snapped open and he was running the short distance to the door, barely able to stop himself short of turning the knob. It was there again and Gohan sighed as slowly as he could manage between panting, resting his forehead on the wooden surface in front of him, his hands following suit.

‘Needless pain.’ That’s what he had called it when he apologized to Mirai for trying to leave, and the prince him it was a price he had willingly paid to be with him. Gohan hadn’t known what to say, and the guilt sat in his stomach. Neither of them had liked Trunks’s accusation of prematurely mating, but there wasn’t any use in denying he was right. Not when Mirai was in as much agony as he was and there was nothing Gohan could do for him. Forcing his voice not to shake he called out.

“Mirai…” There was a soft sniff that Gohan wouldn’t have heard if he had first heard the small hiccup that preceded it. The sheets rustled and footsteps treaded cautiously to the other side of the door. As Mirai drew closer he had felt the temperature rise and his chest tightened, able to actually feel the outline of the smaller body pulsating opposite his own. His hands gravitated to the source of the heat and came to a rest over what he knew were Mirai’s, wishing they could wipe the tears from his gorgeous face.

“Please don’t cry,” he managed, hoping the words sounded tender. Silence hung for a brief moment before Gohan felt the quiet thud of Mirai’s forehead touch the door over his chest.

“Gohan.” His voice was heavy, raspy to Gohan’s ears and he frowned. How easy would it have been just open the door and hold him? To press kisses to his neck and take that ache away?
And hold him down into the mattress with his hips and stroke the base of his tail as he snapped into him.

Forcing his hands to keep still he groaned loudly, digging blunt nails into the wood’s surface. Rigid lines appeared in their wake and neither of them said anything. They didn’t have to.

A long moment passed before Gohan heard the sound of a muffled sigh. Mirai’s sobbing had ceased and he pressed himself closer to the door. Even with the desolate desires rolling through their bodies there had been something gratifying of just being near the other. Steadying his breathing a little Gohan spoke.

“I’m so sor-“

“Don’t.” Mirai’s voice still trembled as he cut him off and he swallowed thickly, panting hard between his words. “Don’t apologize. If you apologize, then it meant nothing.” The absolute made Gohan return the sigh and frown. He couldn’t argue with him. There had to be something he could do for him, and sleep could come to him if he knew he had done something to alleviate the burn on sheer arousal his prince was in.

“Have you…tried to take care of it yourself?” His cheeks, stained with a needy flush, grew hotter as the words left his lips. Imagining Mirai had laid in his bed and had given himself some sort of sexual pleasure only made Gohan’s cock twitch with delight and he barely resisted reaching down to stroke it. His nails dug harder into the door, more jagged lines engraving the struggle.

A pause, then, “…I haven’t.” Amusement sparked for only a second through the fog of lust swirling through him and a smirk curled on the guard’s lips.

“Perhaps you should.” Gohan’s voice dropped, almost growling as he began losing control of himself and he felt Mirai’s own body temperature rise from the other side. Hesitation hung in the air, leading Gohan to believe that he had crossed a line that had been better off left alone until he heard a low hiss.

Shaky fingers wrapped themselves around Mirai’s cock stroking in long, hard snaps of his wrist. The heat wave that radiated from his body sent Gohan reeling and his hips lurched on instinct, grinding hard into the door between them. Images of the half-saiyan prince lewdly calling his name into the night as he fucked him flooded his sense and the feral beast of need captured him. With a swift hand he pulled at the waistband of his sleep pants, groaning loudly at the newfound freedom.

Normally, Gohan would be in control of himself. Any other night he would open the door and simply kiss the desperation away, or take him to bed and quietly run his fingers through his hair as they fell asleep. Now, completely consumed, he wanted to claw at the curve of Mirai’s hips and drag him back onto his cock. He wanted to fist a hand into the long, lavender strands and lavish the permanent mark on the back of his neck with his tongue.

Sweat that had rolled down his naked torso had made massaging his nearly painful erection only marginally less rough. Knowing Mirai was just beyond the door mirroring him and hearing the ragged, harsh pants as delicate fingers glided over the tip…

“I bet you look good right now,” he said hoarsely. “Sweating, gasping for air, cheeks burning as you imagine my hands on your body.” And Mirai certainly did. His lips parted in a hot moan and a loud scrape of nails scoring into the door resounded in Gohan’s ears.

“Tell me more.” Mirai pleaded with him and the older saiyan swallowed dryly, lips trembling with a low chuckle as his palm dragged the first drops of precum down his length.

“I don’t know if you could handle it,” he teased. “I might break you, Little Prince.”

The noise that Mirai made could only have been described as feral and his nails bore down harder against the door. Uncharacteristically he swore, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

“Fuck. Please…” Such filthy words for a prince, but they only seemed to fuel him into further egging the other on. Gohan groaned loudly as the tip of his cock rubbed along the surface of the door, his hips having rolled hard involuntarily.

“You’d have to beg for it,” he forced out between breaths and he would have sworn that he had heard a hint of a laugh roll out with the lewd moan that followed.

“Please, Gohan. I want to cum.” Pressing his forehead closer he nodded, his voice cracking.

“Do it.”

A breathless, raw moan rang loudly off the walls and for just half a second Gohan was thankful for the soundproof chambers. Mirai’s knees had given, the door shaking as they hit it to keep from collapsing entirely.

Within the first of what was a deep exhale from the other side Gohan had caught the scent of his mate’s release. The aroma of something exotic swirled in tandem with the longing racing through his veins and came hard with a loud, guttural moan, his whole body writhing. Barely able to hold himself up he sank to his knees, accidentally running his palm through the mess that coated the door, though Gohan hardly gave thought to it.

Several moments passed in silence as both of them caught their breath. His body was still warmer than normal, he noted, but this was a comfortable burn, something much more bearable, even with Mirai’s own temperature beginning to settle. Eventually they both sat on the floor, their backs to the other but heads resting gently near the others. Finally, Mirai laughed softly, and he couldn’t help smiling.

“Something amusing to you, my prince?”

“Perhaps.” His voice had been the most even it had been since they parted ways earlier that evening, and Gohan took that as a good sign. “Do you still have doubts?”

“Perhaps,” he mimicked with a content sigh, “but I am reassured that we made the right choice.”

…quiet. Then, “Really?” The smile on Gohan’s lips brightened just a little and he turned his head as if he could see him through the now horribly marred door. Oh, how easy it had been for him to forget that Mirai was still so young.

“Really,” he muttered softly and stifled a yawn in the back of his hand. “We should try to sleep. Dawn should be breaking soon.” There was some hesitation in Mirai’s response.

“Stay. I don’t want to go back to bed alone. …Stay here with me.” Gohan laughed lightly, always finding something new about the prince that was cute and endearing. Shutting his eyes and leaning back he put a hand to the door.

“Of course.” A loving warmth pulsated against his palm and he kept it pressed there, wishing he could actually hold the hand adjacent to his. Sometime after Mirai had drifted off to sleep but before him, Gohan remembered wanting to whisper to him, but he wasn’t sure they ever left his tongue.

“Sweet dreams, Mirai.”

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