A King With Chaos
It got old. His dear sweet brother must have realized that it would get old after a while. Must have known that he would hate it. Had to have known because there was no way on earth the fucking King of Saiyans would have sent him out here to this hell hole without the knowledge of what it would be like for him. Like it was his fucking fault that his father had tried to kill his dear sweet brother and thusly he was raised with the (obviously very incorrect) belief that he was the one that should have been king.

It would have been the nice thing to do for Vegeta to kill him. That would have been polite and make him worthy of the energy it took an ascended King to kill him. But no, he was just gotten rid of, disposed out here with the third class because he was stripped of all titles. Allowed to keep the name his father had given him, but that was it. He was nobody just like everyone else, only he wasn't as strong as they were--not originally--and no third class moron was going to pass up the fucking chance to beat up a former Prince. That would be fucking unthinkable.

The first two years were hell. He was beaten bloody every day, but he kept his mouth shut about it, let them walk around with their fucking smirks of superiority and his blood on their fists. Bardock--the leader of this ragged cesspool of shit--would just look at him and shake his head but he didn't step in. Neither did his offspring (Radditz he thought his name was) but Radditz died by the fourth year and that was the end of his involvement. Of course, by the fourth year he figured that if he could blind the assholes or injure them they would leave him alone for longer periods of time. So he figured out really fast that if you stabbed them in that flesh right above the kneecap you could keep your assailants away from your ass for much longer. By the time fourteen years had passed he realized that he was going to make his fucking bastard brother pay for literally tossing him out here and forgetting about his existence. It was one thing to prove a point, it was another to drive it home by leaving him in this world that stank like sweat and sex and was filled to the brim with dirty leering (larger) Saiyans.

Why the fuck were the Royals smaller than the average Saiyan?
He felt like a damn midget, but most of the time his smaller size let him duck under the arms of his would-be attackers, and by now, they had learned to leave him alone.

Mocked him now, for the past eight years, called him "his highness Caradoc" but they stopped thinking they could use him as a punching bag. Kept their distance because a day didn't pass when he didn't have his trusty knives with him. Bardock told him not to cut off any more kneecaps, but he could do whatever else was necessary to protect himself.

Today they weren't doing anything. Today, it was raining and he was bored. Sitting outside his tent (that was only large enough for him and was the only truly clean one here) picking his teeth with his favorite knife. Soaked to the bone, watching the others as they took advantage of the rain to shower and ran around naked, tossing mud and jeers at one another. Eventually the females would be taken back to a tent by the men, but right now they were in that stage where they were just flirting and he rolled his eyes at it. Less than a quarter of the camp was female, and more than half of the men preferred the company of their own.

"Ass Monkey!" came a unfamiliar voice, heavy with an accent he didn't understand and when he looked at the mouth of the camp, he saw... No fucking way he was looking at a real set of twins. Twins, a Super Saiyan and something else that was taking in the sight of the camp like he had never seen anything quite as unreal. A priss, how unusual.
He got up and sheathed the knife back into the holster on his thigh. Walked over to them and the frolicking naked ones behind him didn't even stop their flirting banter as the twins turned and looked at him with all the arrogance of his dear sweet brother, and strangely enough he could have swore that they looked like the bastard too.

Tuari hoped around them and flashed him a smile. "This is my friend, Presta," pointed at the female Super Saiyan that was stinking like a 'come and fuck me' sign. Moving like someone had already done the job, but she hadn't taken to it. Looked at the twins again, and they looked at him, the grinning one gave him a nod, the other gave him a sniff of disapproval.

"Hello Caradoc," the grinning one said--apparently the one that shouted Ass Monkey.

"Goten," the not-grinning one said sharply, "Don't."

"Bardock!" Presta shouted and flew across the camp to the Commander (that's what they called him now) threw both her arms around him and he looked more than a little astounded as he patted her on the back and said something that he couldn't hear from all this way away.
Tuari was pouting. Glared at him when he gave the bean-pole thin son of the Commander a smirk.

"Shut up Princey," he said and then stalked off to his tent.

Which left him with the twins and the priss-boy who was running his hands through his hair and wagging his tail behind him in nervous swishes. He smelled odd. It was hard to tell, anymore, but the kid could have been a half-breed.

"Gohan," the more serious, less amused twin said, "This is Caradoc. I'm sure he'd be nice enough to show you around." Then the two twins moved forward, eerily identical in the way they moved, and their clothes. He watched them walk up to Bardock and shake his hand and all of them were invited back into the tent where the Super Saiyan girl glowed like a lightbulb and illuminated it from the inside out.
He looked at the half-breed he was left with and shook his head. "Come on. We can talk in my tent."

"Your tent?" it squeaked at him.

"Look, if I wanted your ass, I would tell you that I want your ass. For now, we'll just talk." Then he walked away from him, and left the kid to figure out if he wanted to follow or not. By the looks of him with his pretty smooth skin and swishy nervous tail, he hadn't been in a decent fight in his life. Immediate punching-bag pick for the camp.
~~~***

Ah, the King was annoyed. Bristling with annoyance. Hardly a surprise. There were more than a fair share of folk in the universe that wanted his mate's head on a golden platter, and the King had yet to produce an heir for his jittery species. They were endlessly after him to pick of the available wombs (that's what Kakarot called him because other than their ability to have babies, there was nothing attractive about them.) Thus far, Vegeta hadn't given in and made himself a fat-cheeked baby, but Kakarot had the sneaking suspicion that he would have to eventually.

Now, however, he didn't have to. He just stood in their rooms, bristling with annoyance so much that his tail was bushed out and Kakarot got up from his place on the pile of pillows to walk over to his mate. He was already stripped down to his skin. It was late, it was dark and he only trained the elites until the afternoon anyway. He couldn't stand them for any longer than that.

Vegeta looked at him. Growled in annoyance and grabbed the crown off his head, tossed it across the room so it clattered on the floor and rolled. Kakarot just smirked and set about disrobing his smaller mate. Vegeta let himself be stripped but didn't participate.

"I'm going to kill him," Vegeta informed him finally, "I'm going to take the royal fucking scepter and I'm going to shove it so far up that cocky Duke's ass that he's sucking on it. Then I'm going to rip his guts out, wrap them around his knees and hang him upside down until he chokes on his own blood."

"Vegeta," he said lowly as he dropped to his knees and ran his hands down his mate's chest, making him shiver and look down. Pressed a kiss to his stomach and gave him a 'naughty grin.' "Is there even a royal scepter?"

"I'll make one," Vegeta informed him. Shook harder when his tail was stroked and his knees started to give out, because he sank down next to Kakarot on the floor and gave him a rather petulant look as if it demand why they were on the cold floor when there was a large bed that they could be on right now.

Kakarot rolled his eyes and carried Vegeta over to the bed, dropped his kingly behind on it and climbed onto the bed on top of him, supported himself on his elbows and kissed Vegeta's throat, down to his chest again and heard the frustrated growls and muttered little: "Pound his bones to dust..." and "Rip his balls off and..."

Finally the King looked down at him, lifted his legs up and pressed his knees against Kakarot's ribs. "Foreplay is a waste of time, Kakarot, just fuck me already."

And it was completely impossible for him to deny a command from his mate, so with a much put-upon sigh he grabbed the container of salve they used for the lubrication and slicked his erection and Vegeta's entrance, one finger to spread it around and then Vegeta gave him a raised eyebrow as an unspoken: "Why are you taken so much time?" so he lifted up his mate's hips and sank down into him. Heard the stuttered gasp and hands curled tight around his upper arms, the smaller, hard body under him arched up and brushed against all his skin as he groaned and grit his teeth against the heat surrounding him.
Vegeta grabbed him by the hair and dragged him down so he could kiss him. Sloppy open mouth kisses and hard sucking kisses as his mate rocked back against him. Whimpered and open and he started to move. Sank into his mate slowly, tortured him and grinned into the kisses as the hips moved back against him harder.
 
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Alright, why the title? Why did I chose this title? I have no idea. One of the titles was 'Chaos Made Easy' but I'm saving that one. Then of course 'Kakarot among Kings.' Then I considered making one about Caradoc. But alas, I didn't want the title to imply the story was about any one thing. Instead it's more about the Chaos. About Vegeta (naturally) who is the King

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