Welcome to DBZ Love Garden

~Reach a hand to the crescent moon

Grab hold of the hollow~

The piercing breath of night trickles down the back of my neck, insinuating itself into the space between cloth and skin. I allow myself to shiver, but keep my face turned to the sky. I don’t know if these midnight walks are penitence or exorcism, but I find myself coming out here compulsively, retreading the past in an orgy of self-recrimination and regret. The brush of fragrant pine and damp maple are ignored as I keep my eyes fixed on the inky expanse of sky, darting from mote to tiny mote of light.

Finally I reach the small meadow that marks the five-mile point from my modest cabin here in the woods. Deliberately I strip myself of my jacket, leaving it lying in the wet grass, basking in the chill of the darkness on my bare arms. A few paces more to the southern side of the clearing, to a large rock that seems to have grown here, or maybe was planted long ago by something other than humans. I find my habitual seat easily, the deeper cold of stone eating through the thin cloth of my jeans, permeating the flesh underneath. Maybe if I sit here long enough, I’ll freeze. Just a carving of me, staring up at the sky, for the rest of eternity. It’s a comforting thought, but I throw it away. I’m not here to lie to myself tonight, nor to take refuge in false reassurances.

~If she sits in the palm of the left

That moon will be fuller tomorrow~

In my mind, the gentle curve and soft radiance of the moon entrance me, like they do every night I imagine them out here. I raise my hand to the sky, watch my fingers embrace that slender, imaginary crescent, stroke her silvery contours. My people have always loved the moon, have embraced her fickle tides, have revered her solemn mysteries. She is our Queen, in whatever form she comes, and the source of our strength. It’s not so surprising that the greatest of our kind came to fruition here, on this planet. She once shone royally here, baptized our champion in blood. A flash of heat runs through me at the thought, and alone, I allow myself to think longingly of him.

“I wish I could have seen you, Kakarot...” I whisper to the careless breeze. Would I have known what he was then? I certainly didn’t when we first met. But greater minds than mine fell under the spell of that simple face and those unclouded eyes. I ceased berating myself for my stupidity in not recognizing his beauty a few years after he died. It allows me to dwell softly on the strong jawline of that agonizingly beautiful face, the way his onyx eyes embraced everything chance set in front of him, good or ill. Was he as lovely as a youth? Did his righteous anger burn so fiercely, so brilliantly? A melancholy sigh fills my lungs before being released to the night. It feels good to let go, good to not think about other people, good to not let poison jealousy fill my heart.

~If she sits in the palm of the right

That moon is on the wane~

I become dimly aware of a familiar choking at the back of my throat, like a ball of razors waiting to tear into me, stopping my breath, cracking my heart in two. His loss....his loss is too overwhelming, too shattering. I give in gladly to the grief that aches inside me, that tears me asunder. I can admit it easily now; it’s one of the reasons I come here. To fall into the embrace of this sweet agony. There’s something impossibly lovely about letting go, let it fill me until I’m sure I’ll die, my body can’t possible contain my sorrow.

My mouth opens to free the soundless sobs that brutalize my throat, my shoulders shaking. Against every other foe I struggle to my last breath, but not against this. There is no fight left in me against him; it is here I can admit he claimed my heart when I first set eyes on him, when I first heard him speak the syllables of my name with such passion, his purifying wrath.

“Kakarot,” I squeeze his name past my choked cries, and finally the tears come, scalding heat that cools to an icy shadow as they trail down my face, hanging precariously at my jaw and chin. I wallow in self-loathing, glory in bitter memory of his haphazard perfection. Gone, forever, maybe. At least gone from me.

~And the love of the one who shares your bed

Will be doing just the same~

Does he think of me, where he is now? Is he watching me from somewhere? Of course not. Perhaps he spares a little pity for me...I groan at the thought. Pity, for his prince. It took his death for me to realize the depths of my feeling for him; but not even his death could move his heart to love me. At least, no more than the way he loved everyone. The fool. He reserved his great passion for his boy, and his cause. Is it so terrible for me to wish that the flame that lit his very being was turned my way, could warm someone as cold as me? I run my hands lightly over my arms, gooseflesh tingling. The heart of winter, and here I sit in the middle of a meadow, thinking about my dead....what? What is he to me? I can’t call him my lover, he was that only once. My friend? More than that to me. My failure. Yes, that’s it. My grief, my pain, the hole in my heart.

~`Won't you come with me', he said,

‘There's plenty of room in my iron bed~

Vegeta stared towards the heavens, restless, melancholy. He shifted on his feet, wondering if he should keep walking, or stop here, stop in this mundane clearing, watch the sky, dream about his lost home. He cursed his erratic insomnia that stole another night of dreams from him. Sighing, he threw himself on the cool grass, flopping back and staring up at the sky. The stars were confusing to him here, in all the wrong shapes, not the ones he memorized in childhood. He wondered where the hole that Vegeta-sei belonged in was, and he scanned the sky. The stars were amazingly bright out here, filling the sky with pinprick radiance, but there was still more blackness than light. //Like me,// he thought, not as pleased at the idea as he thought he should be. //Are you beginning to regret what you are?// he asked himself, but pushed the voice aside. He was tired of this questioning of himself. When had it started? He didn’t know, he just knew there was a restiveness inside him now, coupled with a strange unhappiness. The two often came on together, rousing him from his bed, sending him roaming.

Black eyes studied the equally dark depths of the sky, searching desperately for answers that only lay within. So the moody prince didn’t notice when another figure joined him in the clearing. When Goku cleared his throat, though, Vegeta snapped his frozen mask back down over his face. He turned his head to contemplate the taller man. “What are you doing here?” he asked coldly.

~You're looking cold and tired

And more than a little human~

Goku just smiled guilelessly at him, his hand behind his head in that timeless gesture that Vegeta was starting to realize meant: Don't look at me too closely, don't see what's really here. "Well, I couldn't sleep," Goku began, "And I felt your ki out here, so I thought I'd come say hello." But something else was dancing in his dark eyes, just out of reach of the curious prince. Vegeta climbed to his feet, answering harshly.

"Hello. Now what else do you want, Kakarot?" He would swear there was something else going on here, and a little thread of excitement wormed its way into his consciousness. Goku had always been something of a mystery to him, though bit by agonizingly small bit he was starting to figure out some things. Just little things so far...but maybe tonight he would get a larger piece of the puzzle.

"Will you walk with me a bit, Vegeta?" Goku asked, that same innocent smile hiding his intentions effectively. Vegeta nodded briskly, and stalked over to the taller man.

"Where are we going?" the smaller Saiyan asked, low voice unusually mild. Goku looked down at him, smiling, and Vegeta cursed himself. He was letting on that he knew something was up. But Goku didn't answer, instead asking something else.

"Vegeta? Will you tell me something? Some thing about your...our...homeworld? About Vegeta-sei?"

The prince was shocked. It was too close to what he had been thinking earlier, echoed his homesickness too nearly. Goku had never shown much interest in their shared heritage, even when Vegeta had been dying, and imparted his last subject with the task he could not complete: Kill the destroyer of their people. "What do you want to know?" he asked softly.

"Tell me a story," Goku answered, equally softly. So the Prince of all Saiyans responded to the pleadings of his vassal, and as they walked through the darkling woods, wove a tale of blood and sacrifice, heroic and wicked deeds known long to his people, and passed down through generations. He spoke in the old formal language as he began his tale.

"In the dark of long ago, when the bones of your grandfather's grandfather were fresh and bloody and newly fallen, there lived a man who would no longer be crushed by the will of another..."

~I know I'm not part of the life you had planned,

But I think once your body feels my hand~

As the last words of the tale whispered through the shadowed trees, the two came across a small house, set under the union of two great maples. Goku sighed quietly, and looked at Vegeta. The prince himself was in the full grip of his terrible yearning for a home that no longer existed, his face reflecting his grief. He damned the larger man for drowning him in this weakness, but at the same time felt grateful that the memories of the place in which he spent the least part of his childhood were not so dimmed by time that they could not rouse him any longer.

"We're here," Goku interrupted his train of thought gently. Vegeta looked up into fathomless black eyes and frowned.

"Where's here?" he asked sharply. Again, Goku did not answer directly, just walked over to the door.

"There's something I want to show you inside. I found this place a few months ago, looked like it had been abandoned, so I fixed it up a little." He opened the door, and disappeared into the darkness of the interior. Vegeta followed, curiosity warring with the lingering pangs of sorrow, tainted with a little irritation at his companion. As his eyes adjusted to the dimness of the little cabin, a flare of light caught and reflected in his dark eyes. Goku used the match to light a small oil lantern sitting on a blackened woodstove. The cabin appeared to be only one room, that room doing duty as a kitchen, living room, and bedroom. A rocking chair sat up near one of the tiny windows, and a great iron bed lurked in one corner, age encrusting the cold metal. Fresh linen, though, Vegeta noted.

"What did you want to show me?" he asked Goku, running one hand through the flames of his dark hair. Goku turned from the lantern, and smiled. But this time there was something in that smile, something very similar to what shone through in the midst of battle, a sort of lust for living coupled with a hole into hidden depths. Vegeta frowned as the larger man approached him, stood so close that he could have touched his nose to his chest with only a slight inclination of his head. He hated it when the man was this close, he had to crane his head to look into his eyes...but he was also fiercely curious as to what he would find there. The prince had the feeling he was about to delve deeper into the mystery that was Goku.

~Your mind will change

And your heart will lose its pain'~

A large hand reached down to grasp Vegeta's chin, and Goku stooped until his face hovered just over the prince's. "This," he murmured simply before leaning down to brush his lips over the smaller man's. Vegeta's spine stiffened at the feel of those warm lips on his, and a voice in his head cried out his confusion. As his mind tried to sort out what was happening, his body responded gladly, pressing him into the younger Saiyan, opening his lips and darting his tongue out to taste Goku eagerly. The other man smiled into his mouth, pressing his tongue into the heat of the prince, exploring him leisurely as Vegeta's mind sidetracked for a moment to delight in the sweet taste that filled him.

It was as his hands rose to run along Goku's hips that he finally caught up with his body, and he pulled back abruptly, taking several rushing steps back and slamming into the closed door. "What are you doing?" he demanded, voice harsh and breathless, anger beginning to kindle. Who was this man to touch him without permission? Nothing but a third class warrior! But the voice at the back of his head corrected him, almost gently. This was also the man who had claimed the title of Super Saiyan, and done it before his prince. This was the pinnacle of their species. But all these thoughts seemed unnecessarily complicated when Goku closed the distance between them, and planted his hands on either side of Vegeta's head, his muscled arms like two iron bars imprisoning the prince. His leg slipped between the smaller man's thighs, knee resting on the unpolished wood of the door.

"You know exactly what I'm doing," Goku responded, leaning down to claim another kiss, bringing Vegeta painfully back to the present.

~Out among the fields gently hipped

Beneath the corn~

I watch him almost every night now. Sometimes he just sleeps, and I study the harsh lines of his face rendered somehow young by his slumber. Other times, like tonight, he roams, and these are my favorite times. Watching that compact body move through the night like he owns it, whether he's walking, running, or flying. Mostly he walks, but sometimes he runs. That's the very best of all, seeing him push his body across the ground, through the trees, or out into the open grass. Seeing the muscles in his thighs bunch rhythmically, his back rippling, his breath being blown out those delicate lips in violent pants. He's running tonight, insinuating himself through the long rows of corn, lost in a sea of green. Beautiful.

I don't like to watch him during the day, the time I keep for my children. It seems too much like spying, seeing into his private life like that, with Bulma and all. And I see that angry sneer on his face too much then, that mask he uses to keep himself safe. The prince I know is angry, too, but not so uselessly. He has great passion and his fury makes him stronger, makes him burn brighter. He's so different from me, maybe that's why I've always been drawn to him. He's been through so much pain, but that dark flame keeps him going, even when he's losing. He always fights, against everything. I miss that, his wild spirit, his idominitable will. But at least I can watch him here. You don't need to sleep when you're dead, so Vegeta takes the place of my dreams.

Sometimes he goes out to the clearing near the cabin, and he cries. I don't always know what he's crying for...I never saw him do it when I was alive. Sometimes, though, I can hear him whisper my name. I feel sorry for whatever I did that caused him such pain...but I also thrill to hear my Saiyan name on his lips, lips so bare without a haughty smirk. But tonight he's not crying, tonight he's just running, his face contorted in fierce concentration, pushing his body.

~Assiniboine bones beneath the highway

He stood there and he thought of home~

He slows in the field, jogging out to the lonely road. I watch him stop, lean over, bracing his hands on his knees, breathing in the dust of the dead highway. No cars have passed for hours, no lights mark his path. He straightens up and looks up at the stars, like he does every night he comes out here. I move in closer to study the complex lines of his face, and I feel so inadequate next to him. He has so much life in him, he dares to do things I never would or could! He's a puzzle I have had a long time to unravel, but the more I watch him, the more complex he seems. I finally stopped trying to analyze him, and instead just drink him in every night, absorb who he is into me through my eyes and ears. I can't smell him anymore, though, and I miss that terribly. The sharp scent of him used to linger in my nostrils whenever we sparred, like wood smoke, biting.

The tip of his boot brushes the long dead bones of a bird, a few lone feathers fluttering in the quiet breeze. I can see small beads of sweat at his hairline, and I wish desperately, like I do every night, that I could feel him. I would give anything to hold him, and suddenly the loss seems too much. I torture myself watching him like this, but never being able to touch, never being able to bury my nose in that thick black hair, never having him acknowledge me with those fierce obsidian eyes. Even if it was only to laugh at me, to insult me, I would have welcomed it. But I waited too long, waited for him to make up his mind, decide what to do with my feelings. For surely he knew how I felt after that night. I worshipped him, adored him...I still do. Even dead, he is my world.

~A finger traces the path of a satellite

You're drawn to a distant copse of trees~

I watch him raise his hand to the sky, spreading his fingers out and peering through them like some telescope of blood and bone. Slowly he curls his hand into a fist, and lowers it to his side. Shaking his head, his murmurs something I'm not close enough to make out. And begins walking down the road, his pace slow now, unhurried, lost in thought. I trail behind him, a pale ghost lost in my own grief.

I think maybe it's too much for me tonight. Too much to watch that magnificent form, get lost in those depthless eyes. I pull myself away, but I can't lose him entirely...I stray far enough that I can still see his silhouetted form on the road, but just barely. I close my eyes against the pain of him, and I feel the tears of a dead man spilling coldly down my face. How can I stand it, this agony? Why did I decide to stay dead; what kind of fool leaves a man like him behind?

"VEGETA!" I can't help it, the name is torn from my throat, holding all the regrets and frustration I have. If only he could hear me! If only I could tell him what I was feeling, know what he felt...if only he would just call me the fool, like he always did, in that mocking way that let me know that he cared.

~A voice as sweet as Mare's Tail

Clings to the prairie breeze~

I shake my head...it's useless. I look back to the object of my affections denied, and am startled to see him glancing around. Is he looking for something? I can't tell from here...but now he's moving towards the little shade of trees I lurk in, towards me. He didn't hear me, did he? Did he? My face lights with hope, as I call for him again. "Vegeta?" He doesn't respond, but he comes closer, until he stands next to me, looking around in the darkness. Of course, he can't see me.

"Vegeta!" I say again, louder, but he just frowns, shaking his head. I guess...maybe he didn't hear me? I reach out, wanting to touch his face, watching my fingers pass through that golden skin, and I clench them into a fist. Damn it!

"Kakarot?" he whispers in that gloriously scratchy voice of his, and I shout my answer to him.

"I'm here, I'm here, Vegeta! Please, can't you hear me? I watch you every night, my prince, please say you hear me!"

He collapses to his knees, and I scream in frustration. I almost miss his whispered words as he bows his head over the sparse earth.

"Damn you, Kakarot. Damn you."

~`Won't you come with me', he said,

`There's plenty of room in my iron bed~

Goku lost himself in the depth of the second kiss. It was almost too much, to be finally touching the haughty prince like this, to feel him respond. He didn't know what it was that made him show Vegeta this cabin, let alone be this bold with him, but there had been something different about the man tonight. Something distant and dreamy, and Goku was so tired of hiding his feelings, of watching the other man to see if any of them were returned. He was not naturally a secretive person, and the smaller Saiyan had impressed him from the first with his amazing force of will. It wasn't until recently that he began to feel the draw of that powerful body as well, but it had taken an enormous effort on his part to ignore those feelings. He knew that Vegeta might be find them abhorrent...after all, he constantly talked about how he wanted kill Goku, constantly belittled him. But Goku was starting to think that was just Vegeta's way, and the sharp taunts, which had always been fairly easy to ignore as Goku didn't believe them himself, had become almost welcome. After all, Vegeta spent nowhere near as much effort insulting anyone else.

The sharp pain of Vegeta's teeth biting into his lower lip brought him back to the present, and he drew his head back, looking down at the smaller man snarling up at him. "Stop...kissing...me, you idiot! What makes you think I want you to do that?!" Goku tasted the blood at his lower lip thoughtfully, but did not release his captive, only moving his arms lower to trap Vegeta's shoulders.

"I don't know, Vegeta, maybe it's because you don't seem too unhappy with it," he smiled down at the prince, adjusting his thigh slightly so it rubbed more firmly against the other man's growing arousal. Vegeta growled up at him like a wild animal, only exciting Goku even further as the small Saiyan shoved at the larger man's arms, trying to free himself. Goku laughed, for once happy that he outpaced the other man in sheer strength, and leaned in to stare into the furious prince's eyes.

~You're looking cold and tired

And more than a little human~

"Aren't you tired of being alone, Vegeta?" Goku whispered at his lips, his own dark eyes capturing Vegeta's madly wandering ones. He watched intently as the man's mouth went slack, as he stared up in consternation at his captor.

"What?" the prince's voice was low, shaky.

"I know I am," continued Goku. "We're the last of our people. We're the only ones I know of that have this much strength...the most powerful fighters in the universe we know. Is it so strange to feel lonely? The only match I'll ever have is my son...and you." He stated his case simply, laid out his feelings bare and plain. He was a man with many friends, but very few equals. The magnificent prince was his match, a perfect tangle of beauty and depth, a man Goku could spend his life unraveling delightfully.

~I know I'm not part of the life you had planned,

But I think once your body feels my hand~

"There's no way we could have planned for the things that happened in our lives. But isn't it time to forget what we thought we should be, and just be who we are?" Goku watched the prince for some reaction, saw a million emotions darting through now quiet eyes. Finally Vegeta looked up at him, and a smile danced at the corners of his lips.

"You talk too much, Kakarot," he murmured, and even as Goku thrilled to the feel of the prince's lips pushed demandingly against his own, he laughed inside. Always it had to be on his terms, always the smaller man had to have the last word, the advantage. Well, that was something he could live with...very easily, in fact, as the kiss deepened, turned into an all out battle for dominance played in two burning mouths. Vegeta's smaller hands fisted into the loose cotton of Goku's gi, and one quick tug ripped the material from the larger man's broad torso, baring his sculpted chest. Goku responded by easing his hands over the other's hips, under the tight material of his indigo shirt, sliding it up his compact frame to his armpits. Vegeta pulled away from the kiss impatiently, pulling his shirt over his head in one quick movement, and discarding it on the floor. The two embraced once more, Goku glorying in the warm feel of the other's flesh against his.

Vegeta set his lips against the other Saiyan's neck, licking languorously up the impressive length. The feeling was exquisite, and Goku let his head fall back, moaning into the semi-darkness. He could feel the edge of Vegeta's teeth, nibbling experimentally at the large vein in his throat, and he opened his eyes, looking down through the upsweep of the man's hair. The meager light of the lantern played across the prince's muscular back beautifully, leaving him a chiaroscuro painting, a perfect contrast of black and gold. A sudden rush of wet velvet at his nipple pulled another moan from his chest...he had never felt anything like this, this overwhelmingly erotic. The sheer attention to detail the man displayed as he teased Goku's nipple with teeth and tongue was impressive.

~Your mind will change

And your heart will lose its pain'~

Goku ran his fingers through the other Saiyan's hair as he moved lower, trailing wetness down his firm stomach. But the feel of Vegeta's cheek rubbing luxuriously against his clothed erection was too much. Growling, he pulled the prince to his feet, devouring his mouth as he ripped Vegeta's pants from him, revealing a enticingly scarred body to the waiting room. He pushed impatiently on his own pants, snarling in frustration as they caught on one foot. Finally, he kicked them aside, sending them flying into a harmless wall. It was as if he couldn't hold the prince close enough, couldn't have enough skin to skin contact with the other man.

Pulling back a bit, the prince smiled wickedly at his eagerness. He looped his hands behind Goku's neck, then swung himself up to lock his legs firmly around the larger Saiyan's waist, clinging to the man like a demented monkey. Goku clutched Vegeta desperately, at the same time loving the feel of him so close. His taut ass grazed teasingly over Goku's shaft repeatedly, and he could feel the smaller man's arousal pressed firmly between them. He buried his face in the other Saiyan's neck, drinking in his heady scent, lapping with his tongue at the salty flesh exposed there, wanting to take all of the prince into him, swallow him alive. The heaving panting, the warm breath at his ear only enflamed him further as he fed off his prince's desire.

He opened his mouth wide, intended to bite blissfully into that taunting flesh, when Vegeta pulled back from him. He stared into his prince's eyes, glazed with lust, knowing that his own reflected in their depths mirrored that same need. "Not yet," Vegeta whispered, touching a finger to Goku's lips. "Not yet."

~Do I reach for you

When I know you're on the wane?~

The uselessness of my actions doesn't deter me. The fact that my...let's face it, my love...is certainly not reciprocated doesn't stop me. I still come out here and think of you. I still dream of you most nights when I can sleep. I feel like I'm straining towards the impossible, grasping for things I can't have. But I've never been one to let the odds stop me. My mother used to tell me that when I was a baby I would bite at her breasts if she tried to pull away before I was through feeding. She seemed proud of that, but it didn't stop her from slapping me then. And it didn't stop me from biting again the next time. I've always been this way. Is there something in me that needs the pain? If you really came back, would I run to you, lesson learned? Or would I keep pretending that I didn't care, that you mean nothing more than a hurtle to be surpassed? I don't know anymore. I don't know if I can choose happiness over pain.

Except that I did once.

~Do I sense you when I know you're not around?

Do I search for you

When I know you can't be found?~

The worst is those times when I think I hear you. I'm sitting at home, reading something, and I hear you just down the hall, yelling for me. I get up and run to the door, but of course you're never there. I swear the woman must think I'm crazy, the times I've snapped up my head at dinner, speaking your name. My small son just stares at me with his mother's eyes, and I feel the shame burning in my face. The times, I've turned around, sure I caught a glimpse of that wild hair and laughing eyes behind me, to see nothing but a blank wall returning my desperate stare.

Once, I woke from a dream, sure you were in the house. Just hiding, waiting for me to find you, laughing to yourself at your game. So I went through every room, every closet, anyplace that was large enough to fit you. I managed to dismantle two floors before the woman found me frantically turning out one of the storage closets, nearly drowning in stacks of old clothing and photo albums. It took almost an hour before she talked me back to bed. I don't know why I do these things. Maybe I am crazy. Maybe I hallucinated you all along, or you were just a dream.

Are you laughing at me, in your twisted version of heaven? Do you mock me, the way you've taken my heart and mind prisoner? Is that why I hear you, see you everywhere I look some nights? It's always at night, never during the day, never when the light could chase my grief shadows from me. I don't know what's worse; sleeping to dream of you, or waking to know you're gone. I can't stand this any more. But I can do nothing to stop it, either.

~Do I dare to speak your name?~

Sometimes I think maybe if I started a conversation, and continued it long enough, you would answer me. All I have to do is start speaking, maybe telling you how your little son is, the one you never met. Telling you he's an idiot, just like you, and laughing. Telling you how my boy is stronger, smarter, better in every way than him. The reverse of us. But I would never say that...you would never come back if I told you how I really felt. You would never look me in the eye if you knew that the only thing holding me together is the thought that you might come back. How could you love such weakness? I would become one of the hordes you protect, not the equal you embraced those too long years ago. Weak, weak, weak! That's all I am. A small ember next to your blazing bonfire.

Am I happier now that you're gone? Is it easier to feel if the emotion is pain? Am I really as weak as you make me feel, or would I be strong enough to love you if you came back to me?

"Kakarot..."

~Raise your eyes to a moonless sky

And try to wish upon a rising star~

I wonder why no one ever wished the moon back? Were they afraid that Kakarot and Gohan would spontaneously regenerate and reclaim their birthright? Probably. I smile viciously at the empty sky, but my fierce surge of joy at the thought of the fool and his son rampaging through Satan City is short lived. I exhale slowly into the salty air, staring down at the violent ocean contesting against the rock face I perch on. The black of the water draws my eyes, ready to absorb any tears I may have, any noise that could be drawn from my throat. It mirrors the blackness of the sky, but the stars don't shine in those depths.

~Search all you want for her blessing

But you won't find her sparkling there~

I miss the moon, almost as much as I miss him. If he came back, I think the moon would, too. Then we could lie under the canopy of the stars, and whisper secrets to each other. I could tell some joke about one of his friends, and he would say, "Vegeta!" and pretend to be outraged, and then he would laugh. I would wrap that laughter around me like a cloak, letting it warm the chill of my heart, the icy grip of my pain easing away slowly under his ministrations. I would smell him over the gentle tang of the grass, feel him through the back of my hand as we lay side by side, just brushing against his arm. Maybe he would entwine his fingers with mine, point out for me these earth constellations and name them.

Or he would stare at the sky, and I would study him under lowered lashes, and pretend to be watching the moon whenever he looked over at me. But he would know what I was really looking at, and he would just smile at me, before turning back to that velvet arch of blackness littered with diamonds of white fire. I would think that nothing in all the sights I've seen in my life, not the crimson swirls of nebulae, not the roaring birth of a star, could match the sight next to me, breathing and warmly alive.

But there's no moon, and he's dead.

~Now cast your eyes to a part of the sky

Where nothing but darkness unfolds~

Instead the sky seems empty without that brilliance, and I force myself to study the absence of light, the darkness. Am I more comfortable with that? The light can be blinding, and the darkness is safe, but more subtle, too. Or is this all meaningless philosophy, two bit rationalizations about light and dark, me and Kakarot? Probably the latter. I grin ruefully to myself, but I'm drawn to the sky as always, and so I continue my study, this time letting myself stare into the darkness without thought, trying to clear my mind.

My black eyes dart from light to light, tracing the tracks of the stars more calmly now. I can't sustain the level of pain and sorrow I've been experiencing forever. I have to either burn out, or come to some...acceptance. It's more my style to burn out, but I can't bring myself to throw away that small shred of hope. So I let the night soothe me, let the darkness bathe my eyes, ease away tightness there, and the burning in my throat.

~And watch as all around you

She reveals the brilliance of secrets untold~

Slowly, a sort of peace settles over me. The screaming of loss in my mind, the commentary of self-loathing and doubt always running in the background quiet. I let the stillness fill me, draw it in through my nose, exhaling cold confusion through my mouth. The darkness is the impetus, and I concentrate only on it, emptying my mind, embracing the vastness of space. I stand swaying, letting the wind off the water move through me, whispering in my hair. I am just another part of the night, a small bit of darkness waiting here, for what I do not know.

"Vegeta."

His voice! I force myself to calm, relax my muscles that want to tighten, spin, find him. I quiet the cacophony of voices that want to seize control of me again. I instead stare rapt at the infinity of sky above me, allow myself to be swallowed.

"Vegeta. Please wait for me."

His voice is so mournful, like he doesn't expect me to be able to hear him. Maybe I never will again. But I grant myself a small smile.

"I will, Kakarot."

~'Won't you come with me,' he said,

'There's plenty of room in my iron bed~

Vegeta knew he wasn't ready for the mark that Goku wanted to give him. He didn't know if he would ever be, and a part of him said he was only here for the warm comfort of the other's arms, tonight. Tomorrow would be different, under the harsh light of the sun, but tonight he could abandon himself to the body of the last of his kind. Indeed, the younger Saiyan had already begun devouring his fingers, greedily suckling, his lust drowned eyes drinking in the face of his prince. Vegeta smiled, not a triumphant smirk, but an eager expression, completely open for once. He let the warrior wet his entire hand, before lowering himself slightly, and reaching down to run his now damp digits over the other's erection.

The gasp drawn from Goku was more than reward enough for the awkward position. Briefly, Vegeta cursed the loss of his tail and that of his partner's. But he was agile enough, and made a twisting motion with his hand as he slicked his palm around Goku's shaft, eliciting a full blown growl. He chuckled to himself as he leaned in to kiss the larger man again, this time making it a slow exploration of taste and feel, closing his eyes to the delicious sensation. With a little careful maneuvering he repositioned himself, allowing his ankles to cross just at the small of the other man's back, before subtly moving his heel...

The cry torn from Goku was enormously loud echoed into the cavern of Vegeta's mouth as his heel found the scar marking where Goku had lost his tail. The larger man staggered, his legs weak, as he struggled to hold Vegeta's weight against him. Vegeta again stroked the sensitive tail spot, delighting in the shuddering reaction of the man he clung to.

"Wha-" gasped Goku, speechless.

"Haven't you ever touched yourself there before?" Vegeta asked archly, his grin smugly superior.

"No, I....OH! Vegeta!"

"What, Kakarot?" asked the prince, secretly delirious at the sound of his name drawn with such passion from the other's lips.

"Do it again!"

~You're looking cold and tired

And more than a little human~

Vegeta moved to comply, but was suddenly wracked by a wave of electric sensation, just as his toes dragged across Goku's tail spot again. He let out a startled grunt before crushing himself to Goku as all his muscles tightened. His face buried in the larger man's thick neck, he could hear the laughter of satisfaction from his lover. Goku's hands, formerly supporting him under his thighs, had found the stub of his own tail, and were stroking experimentally. It was almost too much, the constant attention to flesh sending his body into earth rending spasms, and Vegeta growled into Goku's shoulder, finally pulling back to stare burningly into the warrior's eyes.

"Unless you want this to be over in about ten seconds, you may want to stop," he snarled, his ferocity somewhat dulled by the little gasps and moans that snuck in between his words.

"Oh, okay," Goku said, the innocence in his face given lie by the hot, moist flesh pressed firmly against Vegeta's ass. The younger man gave one last stroke, before placing his hands in a more safe location, massaging the well toned flesh of the prince's buttocks. "There is one other thing I'd like to do first," he continued, leaning in to lick a long, slow line down Vegeta's jaw, tasting the pleasure spawned sweat there.

"Hn, what's that, Kakarot?" Vegeta asked, an intimate knowledge lighting his obsidian orbs with a hungry fire. As he spoke, he rolled his hips, pressing taut flesh against Goku's erection and creating an agonizing friction. The other Saiyan groaned shamelessly, his open mouth a perfect invitation that Vegeta could not resist. He leaned in for another breathless kiss, finally pulling back to allow Goku to answer.

"You know exactly what I want." The voice of the younger man was very serious now, and he captured his lover's eyes, something being offered there that Vegeta was not sure he understood.

~I know I'm not part of the life you had planned,

But I think once your body feels my hand~

Vegeta knew that this meant more than one night. Knew that what Goku was offering was not just a midnight tryst meant to ease their loneliness. To go any further now was to enmesh himself in something he could not fully comprehend, something that was beyond what he had previously experienced – both in his old life as a beaten dog and destroyer of worlds and in his new as an often unwelcome invader. But there was nothing in him that could stop himself now, and something in him that cried out for this completion. Vegeta was a man at constant war with himself and the world around him, but this was not something he could fight, whatever his younger lover was placing before him.

He let his body speak for him, reaching down once more to position Goku's moist arousal before easing himself down, engulfing the head of his lover's erection. Goku's eyes flew wide at the furious heat, and he bucked his hips impatiently. The tearing pain drew a throaty cry from the prince, and Goku stilled immediately, concern staining his open face.

"Slowly," Vegeta whispered, trying to calm the furious spasms and relax. Goku nodded, and carefully, almost delicately, began easing his way into his prince, stopping every few seconds and studying the smaller man's face intently. Vegeta took these opportunities to add more of his slick saliva to his partner's erection, easing the pain considerably. Finally Goku was buried fully in his prince, and he pulled the smaller man tight to his chest, nuzzling at his neck and hairline as though looking for comfort. Vegeta whispered softly into the other man's ear, the old language of the Saiyan people guttural and yet somehow soothing.

The prince began to move, twisting and arching his body to get just the right angle. As Goku's erection finally hit that perfect spot of bliss inside him, he cried out softly, his face and upper body flushing as a sensation of intense, overwhelming heat engulfed him. Goku leaned back, his lips pulling into a slow smile at the rictus of ecstasy on his prince's face. Vegeta slid down again, still clinging desperately to the larger man, and again hit that perfect spot. He felt like he would burn alive, from the inside out, the heat was consuming him. Goku began to move with him, the paler skin on his own face being erased in a crimson tide of blood and pleasure. Both men clutched at each other pulling their bodies tight together, trapping Vegeta's arousal in a prison of muscled flesh and scalding sweat.

Vegeta felt as though his body was losing it's definition, all parts becoming one, his entire self an expanse of quaking, wanting skin and nerve endings, melding with Goku's in twin desire and need. He began rubbing his heels once more against the larger man's lower back, swiping firmly against his tailspot. At the same time, Goku repositioned his hands, kneading frantically at Vegeta's scar. He pushed forward, slamming Vegeta's back into the unpolished wood of the door, drawing a muffled cry from amidst the succession of moans that were quickly rising to a crescendo of screams.

The simple door was no match for a pair of passion-frenzied Saiyans, and gave with a resounding crack, sending Goku stumbling a few paces forward. But Vegeta caught on to the door frame with his hands, holding on by digging his fingers in to the stone walls of the cabin, little puffs of dust rising from under the incredible pressure of those fingers. The doorframe itself was reduced to splinters, and Goku turned, using the slightly sturdier surface of the wall to brace Vegeta, grinding into him unmercifully.

The chill of the stone contrasted with the fantastic heat annihilating the rest of his body was too much. Every single nerve in his body, every single thing in him that could feel, see, taste, experience exploded with him, overloaded. He felt with every cell when Goku roared up into Super Saiyan, golden light suddenly blazing forth and baptizing the two with its holy fire. Even as he came, Vegeta's obsidian orbs met eyes the color of a raging sea as Goku drilled into him, into his heart, his mind, his being.

~Your mind will change

And your heart will lose its pain~

Panting, the two clung heavily to each other, the cool night breeze caressing their tired flesh sweetly. Without a word, Goku gathered Vegeta more closely in his arms, and carried him over to the ancient bed, setting him down on top of the down comforter. The prince settled back into the embracing softness, watching as Goku walked around to the other side, and climbed onto the bed with him. A smile of pure wonder graced his flushed face, and he pressed himself into Vegeta's side. With a start, the prince realized Goku was resting his head on his chest, snuggling up to him. Almost unconsciously he began stroking lightly down the other man's back, mind still reeling from what just happened.

"You're kinda messy, Vegeta," Goku said with a touch of humor, moving briefly to snag his discarded pants and use them to mop up the remains of passion smeared liberally over the prince's stomach. Vegeta found himself smiling as Goku once more settled himself into the crook of the smaller man's arm, sighing happily.

"Vegeta?" the larger man asked slowly, his breath tickling warmly at Vegeta's chest.

"Hmmm?"

"I think I'm going to go to sleep."

"Alright."

"Will you...will you stay awake until I do?" the last said in a rush, hesitant, unsure.

//Is this what it feels like to be trusted?// "Yes, Kakarot. I will."