Inferno
by Xero Sky     More by this Writer
A single unexpected event and a few moments of communion with another person unravel Goku's entire life.

Has his saiyajin heritage betrayed him? And how is it that the only person who might be able to help him is the only one he can never ask for it?

Told entirely from Goku's POV, this is not a PWP. If you think of Goku as basically stupid and naive, this may not be the fic for you.

Art Source :

https://www.pixiv.net/member.php?id=169805



Chapter 03 : Paradise
I was frozen with shock and betrayal as he drank from me. He could hardly have drawn much, but I felt weak from it. Where was the rage that would let me kill him? Let's be honest; Vejiita had always lived on my sufferance.

If, after everything, I had ever had any reason to kill him, surely this was it?

My arms crept up around him, but I only held on as he licked at the wound, each movement sending odd waves of sensation through my bones. Such a wonderful warm ache. It seemed to draw away all my pain. Despite everything, my eyes drifted shut and I leaned into him. It was so hard to think of anything else.

"Why?" I asked eventually, as his attentions dwindled to soft kisses that only occasionally spiked that warm rush through my frame.

"Because you are mine, Kakarot. You'll bear my brand for the rest of your life. And I will never leave you..." he said, his voice rumbling against my throat.

I moaned softly, not meaning to.

I could feel his ki envelop us. I could feel it the way I felt my own, like sunshine spreading over my bare skin. Once, with Chichi, I had felt something like it, but her ki was so tiny....it didn't even exist compared to this. His ki surrounded us, enclosing my own ragged ki, soothing some of the injuries but making others flare to new life. I clutched at him, wanting all of this to stop, wanting to be *safe*.

"Kneel," he whispered. I stared at him, then shook my head slowly. I was already weakened and confused. He'd drunk my blood. He'd marked me for life, if he wasn't lying. I couldn't go much farther.

He didn't repeat himself. He just clasped my shoulders with his warm hands and pushed me down. It wasn't much of a contest. In a minute I thudded to my knees before him. A little dazed, but still afraid, I looked up at him.

He was beautiful. It was impossible to look at him and not feel desire. I couldn't imagine how I hadn't swooned at his feet when I first met him. But, then, I guess I didn't have to imagine. I had no tail then, and couldn't feel, couldn't see what was right in front of me.

He ran an elegant hand slowly down his body, curving his strong fingers so that just the tips ran over each hard nipple. He traced the center line of his hard belly, ending just above the tousled down around his arousal. Smirking, he said nothing, but only watched me.

The path from his navel to his groin suddenly swelled with the first flow of black crimson. I watched, transfixed, as drops of blood slowly welled up and ran down his pale, perfect skin, pooling slightly here and there along the sculpted lines of muscle. The sweet tang of blood filled the air, blood and musk. I closed my eyes for a moment, savoring the scents. My head swam.

My lids slowly lifted to see slow drops gliding down brawny thighs, and I purred, unable to stop myself.

"Kakarot," he said huskily. "Drink."

By then, it seemed more like a favor granted than an order given.

I crouched forward and wrapped a hand around one leg. Then I reached out with my tongue and slowly licked my way up his thigh, catching the sweet drop and cleaning the trail from his skin. I lapped at him, tasting his blood and his flesh, adoring him with my tongue, working my way up and then going down to catch the next errant drop.

Kneeling before my prince, I licked and nuzzled his thighs, drinking in liquid nirvana, cleansing his flesh. I felt giddy and warm, running my tongue through his soft thatch of hair to begin on the wound itself, the soft head of his cock grazing my cheek. With soft, sloppy licks, I worked my way up the sanguinary path, my mouth seeming to seal the wound as it passed over it.

His ki, my ki, our ki. As I drank, as I submitted and embraced him, drinking the blood he had spilled for me, I could feel the ragged breaches in my ki heal. The howling emptiness in my heart was eased, filled, and banished. As simply and miraculously as that.

I was *safe*.

My neck wound throbbed with delicious heat. I looked up to see Vejiita's head tipped back with pleasure.

I needed no guidance, no coaxing. When the blood had ceased, I ran my adoring tongue over the head of his cock, delighting in texture and taste and scent, but most of all in the deep moan I heard from above me.

I tickled him, rubbing my tongue along the cleft, flicking the tip out to taste soft and heated flesh. I glided the slick softness of the inside of my lower lip over him. I sucked lightly and lapped at him.

I had never done this before. That hardly mattered. I knew how to please my prince. I kissed and licked and took him in my mouth, careful with my teeth, generous with my tongue. Back and forth, up and down the shaft, I worked whatever magic I could.

My hands roamed, cupping, squeezing, stroking. My tail wove around his thigh. I took him in deeply enough to rub the soft head against the back of my throat, and he rewarded me with a groan of pure pleasure. I shuddered with my own delight. I could feel this, somehow. He was open to me, and I knew every little spot to touch him in, every sensitive area to caress. I brought him to the brink and then backed him away, and then brought him there again.

Fingers laced into my hair as he sought to hold me to my task. I suckled him. I tasted him. And with a few cherishing movements of my mouth, I brought him to a roaring climax.

Smiling, I let him go, flicking my tongue over him to gather the last few drops. I could feel the tremors in his legs as he recovered himself. There was an astonishing amount of satisfaction in having brought him so much pleasure. It didn't matter so much at the moment that I was hard and leaking, my own body unsatisfied. There was time for that.

I felt the last portions of our ki meld. I could not read his thoughts, but I could feel their currents. I could read his ki as if it were my own, and to some large extent it was my own, woven inseparably with his. Emotions and sensations not my own whispered through the back of my mind. Possession. Dominance. Need. Want. Desire. Wonder. Affection. Joy.

He settled down in the grass beside me and took me in his arms. I trusted him. I needed him. I wanted him.

He laid soft kisses down my throat again, knowing already how much I loved that, then plunged deeply into my mouth, tasting himself there. I grinned and sucked on his tongue. If Vejiita was what I needed, then so be it. I had him. My harsh and unloving prince slid his tongue over mine, nipping, playing. I had never once seen Vejiita playful before, not in all the years I had known him. With a sudden rush of emotion, I realized that he only allowed it because he felt safe too, secure within my arms as I was within his. Probably for the first time in his life.

I pushed him over on his back and kissed the breath out of him, and then felt something hard slam my back. It turned out to be the ground. Vejiita might feel safe, he might feel complete, but he was damned well going to be on top. Something..... was that a laugh? Not mocking or defiant, but genuinely pleased with himself. With me.

He worked over me in the long grass, mouth and fingers and tail making me writhe and moan and beg. It didn't bother me to beg; it pleased him and cost me nothing but breath. It felt good to declare what I wanted and ask him for it, to show how much I needed his touch.

"Please, ouji-sama..."

He was licking at my body, at curves I had never known could be pleasured in such a way, and then he was between my legs, moving them to circle his waist. I wasn't naive....just massively inexperienced, and I didn't realize... I hissed as he moved into me.

"Shhh," he murmured against my throat, moving slowly. He had a tight grip on me, perhaps to keep me still, and he rocked his hips forward and back. It was an uncomfortable feeling at first, but terribly intimate, and that meant more than any discomfort.

Forward and back, slow movements, slow pants. He kissed me in time with his thrusts. My tail strapped and caressed his ass, then twined with his own.

Pleasure. There was something inside me, something only he could reach. Oh kami...! My back arched, dragging my head off the ground, and I shoved my hips upwards, wanting it again. I could see Vejiita's breathless smile above me as he hit me there again and my spine melted, liquid bliss running through my veins.

I moaned his name as the sensations grew, then shrieked as a coil of his soft and merciless tail looped over my cock. My Vejiita.... He was so adept and so relentless that he would have had me screaming his name even if I hadn't wanted him, even if I didn't welcome his touch with every part of my being.

The pace picked up, Vejiita driving in harder as I took as much of him as I could, straining to reach the pinnacle. Harder, faster, fur stroking me, hot mouth sucking on my mark, drinking me again....

I came screaming his name, all my need, all my wanting, all my joy forced into that one perfect word. A heartbeat later, and he was there with me, roaring his release. If it was my name he cried, I couldn't tell you, so overwhelmed was I, but it didn't matter. Vejiita was mine, my saiyajin mate, my saiyajin prince, and I...I was safe, I was whole, and I was his. Cradling him after he collapsed against me, feeling our hearts beat together, I told him all of these things, with words and without, and for the first time in longer than either of us could really remember, we were content.

*******************

Goten is grinning at me. "Lost again, Dad?"

I shrug and grin back. He knows me. I go back to helping him load cargo. My mind is still wandering a bit, though, thinking about the events that have brought us here. It has been a year since Vejiita marked me, a year of deep happiness, and yet it still amazes me. I love him, and though he considers love a pitiful concept compared to the forces binding saiyajin mates together, he humors me.

But you want to know how much I love him? I'm leaving Chikyuusei with him, and I don't know if I'll ever be back.

We are going because duty compels him. He is the Saiyajin no Ouji. Six months ago we went to the dragon and asked, though we knew it could not be done, for the resurrection of our race. It was beyond the Dragon's abilities, of course, but we had to ask. We secured the resurrection of my brother and Nappa, apparently because they were still in Hell, balancing their karma before rebirth. And we gained something else. The knowledge of where the rest of our race is. We go to find them.

So simple. A race as given to space travel as ours couldn't have completely vanished when Vegetasei was destroyed. There are others out there. According to Vejiita, there are many, a few thousand. Enough for our race to be reborn.

Why did we never ask before? Surely it must have occurred to Vejiita to wonder how many others survived before now. He frowns when asked and says not. If he had known, he would have had to leave, and we would never have bonded. Some part of him must have been waiting for me. Once he bound me, the universe was his again.

Bulma built the ship for us. She's not happy to have us go, but she wouldn't trust anyone else to build something that important for us. For me, her friend. For Vejiita, who she's always been fond of. And for the children, hers and mine, who won't be left behind.

Goten insisted that he go with us, and Trunks wouldn't be left out of any adventure Goten was on, even if Vejiita had been inclined to leave his heir behind. Bura....well, she showed up this morning with two pieces of luggage and a massive toolkit, and installed herself in one of the cabins. The fight she had with Vejiita over this was brief and vicious, and she's checking off the manifest right now. Her father's not talking to any of us at the moment.

Gohan is staying; his own family is here, and he will become the defender that I was. His mother has never spoken to me again. Gohan will naturally become even less the scholarly model of humanity that she wants him to be, and I think she'll probably hate me as the years roll on. I find that I don't care much.

I toss a metal box of...something heavy...to Nappa, who calmly stows it. He's a much changed man these days. I can see the man Vejiita's father entrusted his heir to: sober, meticulous, and devoted. Hell seems to have agreed with him.

My brother, on the other hand, is pretty much the same as he always was: a bitchy, contrary, pain in the ass. He lacks the nasty edge that years under Furiza's thumb had given him, though, and I find I'm fond of him. He is arguing with Bura over replacement parts at the moment. He doesn't seem to realize that this blue-haired slip of a demi-saiyajin, having just won a fight with our prince, isn't about to back down before the likes of him. Goten and I grin at each other.

My son's new tail is firmly wrapped around his waist. It regenerated last night and both Trunks and Bura have been casting covetous looks at it all morning. I think... I think that, before this trip is through, one or maybe both of the royal brats is going to be in some serious trouble because of my handsome son. I can scent him from here.

Maybe my brother, too, actually. Both he and Bura are staring at Goten now, who has noticed and is pretending that he hasn't. He unwraps his tail and waves it casually about, smirking. I roll my eyes.

I look up at the bright sun and breathe in the air of early summer. Beautiful. But not as beautiful as my prince, nor as compelling as the look of desire in his eyes. Not as much my home as he is.

Tomorrow we will be gone from here. I love this place. It is as much in my heart as Vegetasei is in my ouji's. I have lived here all my life, raised my family here. Died defending it. My blood has marked every ocean and every continent. I will miss it, but I leave without regret. Destiny can be seen sparkling in Vejiita's eyes now, and he stands at the brink of a great future. He will reclaim what Furiza denied him. I will see that it happens; my lover will not be denied, not while I still draw breath.

He says that when we have gathered our people together, when they are safe, I will rule by his side, that saiyajins will respect me as these 'baka ningens' have failed to. His pride encompasses me now, not only as the consort of the Saiyajin no Ouji, but as his mate, his Kakarot. He says he will see to it that I get the honor I deserve. When he talks that way, I have to kiss him to hide my smile.

For me, there is no honor that could top that of my prince's mouth on mine, his arms around me, his passionate gaze on me. I have my Vejiita now. I burn for him, and, really, nothing else matters.

End



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