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by The Great Saiyan Romancer

A sacred one-shot of strength, surrender, and star-borne fusion.

The field stretched out in golden hues, the tall grass swaying lazily in the warm evening breeze. At the edge of the treeline, a shadow lingered—silent, unmoving, arms crossed tight. Vegeta’s gaze burned into the lone figure before him, his eyes tracking every movement with a predator’s precision.

Goku moved with effortless grace. Each shift of his body, every flex of muscle, spoke of years of instinctual mastery. Power hummed from him—not blinding, not showy, but pulsing through the air like an unfinished song.

Vegeta inhaled, slow and sharp. Damn you, Kakarot... even now, you move like something untouchable.

He told himself it was just a warrior’s respect. But deep down, he knew it was something else. Something raw. Something he refused to name.

For three days, he had watched. Three days of Goku training to the brink of collapse. Three days of silence and shadow. And now, he saw the moment coming again—Goku pushing too far.

The golden glow of Super Saiyan flickered… and shattered.

Goku dropped to one knee.

Vegeta stepped forward. Boots pressed into dry grass. He didn’t think—he just moved.

“Get up, Kakarot.”

Goku looked up at him, sweat clinging to his brow, a soft, tired grin on his lips. “Heh… have a heart, Vegeta. I’m trying.”

Vegeta’s mouth twitched. He reached down, grabbed a fistful of Goku’s hair, and yanked his head up.

“Are you so weak you can’t even stand?”

“Ow—Vegeta!” Goku laughed, not truly resisting. “That hurts…”

“Then stand up.”

Goku tried. His body trembled. His knees gave. “I can’t. I’m too weak.”

Something in Vegeta clenched. A jolt of hunger, satisfaction—and danger.

He knelt. Pressed two fingers under Goku’s chin.

“You are weak,” he whispered. And then, without warning, kissed him.

It was rough. Unpracticed. Full of fire.

Goku didn’t pull away.

His breath caught. His body shook. His eyes opened wide—not in resistance, but in awe.

“I…” he breathed. “Why did you do that?”

Vegeta rested his forehead against Goku’s. His voice softened. “Because you’ve haunted me long enough.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Goku whispered.

“Of course not. You never mean anything. You just… exist. And I’m left to unravel it.”

He didn’t push. Just held him there. In the quiet. In the pause between war and surrender.

Then Vegeta stood.

“Strip.”

Goku blinked. “What—”

“I said, strip. No lies. No hesitation.”

Goku hesitated—but not from fear. Something else stirred in him. A question. A want.

He stood, trembling. Loosened his sash. Let his gi fall from his shoulders.

Vegeta watched, eyes dark.

“You don’t understand what you do to me,” Vegeta said, fingers brushing Goku’s chest. “Every time you smile. Every time you say my name.”

“I’m starting to,” Goku whispered.

They kissed again. Slower. Deeper. Like a vow carved in silence.

“I want to understand,” Goku murmured. “What this is… between us.”

“You’ll know,” Vegeta said.

Then he dropped to his knees.

Vegeta’s fingers found Goku’s waistband. He looked up. Stop me, his eyes said.

Goku didn’t.

Instead, he nodded.

Vegeta slid the pants down, revealing flushed skin and the unmistakable ache of arousal. Goku’s breath trembled.

“You’re hard already,” Vegeta said, voice like rough velvet. “You’re holding back. Let go.”

“Then show me,” Goku whispered. “Teach me.”

“Gladly.”

Vegeta leaned in, tongue tracing a slow arc across Goku’s skin. Then he took him into his mouth—hot, wet, relentless. Goku moaned, hands trembling as they gripped Vegeta’s hair.

“Vegeta…”

The name lit something inside the prince. He moved faster. Deeper. Goku gasped—

“Wait—I’m—”

But Vegeta didn’t stop.

Goku came with a cry that cracked the stars.

Vegeta held him through it. Swallowed. Stared up at him like worship.

“You didn’t have to…”

“Of course I did. I’m not done with you yet.”

Then Goku surged forward—grabbed Vegeta’s shirt, yanked him down into a hungry, unfiltered kiss.

“Now it’s my turn.”

He pressed Vegeta back into the grass. Kissing down his jaw, his neck, every taut line of his body.

“I’ve been holding back,” Goku murmured. “Not just in battle. Until now.”

Vegeta’s shirt came off. Skin revealed, breath sharp.

They kissed again. Their hips aligned. Friction sparked.

“Don’t tease me,” Vegeta growled.

“I’m not. I want this. I want you.”

“Then take me,” Vegeta said.

Goku did.

Slow. Careful. Fingers first. Breath between each motion.

“You okay?”

“Don’t treat me like glass.”

“I’m not,” Goku whispered. “I’m treating you like something precious.”

And then—when it was time—

He entered him.

Vegeta arched. Growled. Bit his lip.

“Too much?”

“No. Just… don’t stop.”

And Goku didn’t.

They moved together. Slowly at first. Then faster. Harder. Every thrust a conversation. Every breath a confession.

This is what we are. This is what we’ve always been.

Vegeta came first—loud, unguarded, shaking.

Goku followed, shuddering deep inside him.

After, Goku leaned in. Kissed his cheek.

“You okay?”

“That was… acceptable.”

“You always have to sound like a prince, huh?”

“I am a prince.”

Goku grinned. “I know. And I’m yours.”

“One month,” Vegeta said. “We do this again. But I beat you into the dirt first.”

“Deal.”

They lay beneath the stars.

Still joined.
Still warm.
Still together.

And across the sky, two warriors dreamed.
Not of power.
But of each other.

Not of battles.
But of breath.

And somewhere, far across the planet,
beneath the same stars—
Goku smiled.