Chapter Text
He doesn’t remember how it started. Kakarot probably doesn’t either. This little affair they waste away in. White lies turned dark. The hole they’ve dug has become far too deep. They aren’t able climb back out without acknowledging that they’re in there to begin with. Vegeta refuses to see it as an issue. Not when digging the damn thing deeper has become part of his routine.
The prince has become too accustomed to the excitement. Overly depending on the rush, craving it even. It was hard enough to come to terms with the fact that he would forever be in a losing game. Chasing after his rival only for him to step ahead as soon as he gets close. This at least gave him something else to compete in. Something he can win more often than not.
Fortunately, Vegeta didn’t mind losing at this. Succumbing to the sensations and giving in for a little while. A break he can’t find a way to back out of. A cool down lap before returning to the tension he ties himself in. He’d rather it this way. Be it wrong or taboo. He’s a die hard through and through.
That’s why he doesn’t seem surprised that sleep seems so out of reach tonight. It’s unusual for him to chase it for long, but the answer isn’t hidden. The moon light pouring in beckons him. Some buried instincts whom’s call is unavoidable. A saiyan trait that cannot be rewired.
Vegeta’s wondering thoughts break at the sound of his phone’s gentle vibration. Only three people can bypass the sleep mode suppression. His wife, sound asleep next to him. His son, who he can tell is also out cold just from the low rum of his ki.
And Kakarot.
He doesn’t have to check to know what it says. He doesn’t need an invitation, nor a good reason. The night is more than enough cover. The moon sitting full with the promise of something more.
Vegeta pushes himself up without a second thought. Grabbing his earlier discarded sweatpants and walking out to the balcony. His phone opens with a swiftness that only muscle memory can achieve.
Kakarot: U up?
For a moment Vegeta closes his eyes. Feeling for that familiar warm embrace of the other’s engulfing ki. It takes nothing to find it. Pulsing strong in a near by direction. He shoots off that way. The breeze waking him up just a bit more. Enough to feel the warmth building within him. The anticipation he gets just before battle. The foretaste of feeding the addiction.
The prince finds Kakarot near the top of a mountain not far off from the one he calls home. Holding open his phone. Waiting for an answer as if he can’t feel Vegeta landing behind him. The younger doesn’t look up. Not until the other’s aura demands attention.
They don’t have to speak to know what one another are thinking. Been doing this song and dance for so long that changing the rhythm is nothing more than a shift in stance. Kakarot’s eyes moved to Vegeta from where he sat in the cold grass.
“You wanna try this out?” The phone screen is then shoved up for Vegeta to look. He bends down a bit to get a better view. It’s some toy on a suspicious website. As much as he wants to gripe at the other about the absurdity, he can’t deny the fact that it has his interest.
He scrolls at the site, reading more about it. He can feel his ears heat up, imagining the possibilities. Before he can hide it with disappointed words, Kakarot pulls it away.
“I’ll get it for next time.” Vegeta can only grumble. Thankful that words aren’t necessary. That’s never been his strong suit with these things. Pre and post event messes with his head. Too many thoughts in the way. He craves the in between. When he can’t overthink.
That’s just what he gets when the other forgets the electronic and backs up. Kakarot takes his fighting stance, a devious smirk playing at his lips. At last, what he came for.
Not a moment later and they clash. Vegeta on the offensive while Kakarot blocks effortlessly. Hits connecting, but not doing damage. They fly past trees as blows exchange.
Adrenaline is pumping, hearts racing. Then Vegeta sees it. The way the other suddenly switches into fluidity. A grace Vegeta could fall to every time. A taste of ultra instinct.
Blocks turn to misses, hits to parries. No where near the full form, but enough to give an edge. Enough to rile up Vegeta in a way no other can.
For a split second he backs from the collision. Calling forth of his strength. Pulling ki from his deep reserves. Returning to the brawl just as quickly as he left.
The natural amount of thoughtless mobility Kakarot wields soon becomes insufficient. Less swings find the unsatisfactory lack of connection. Flesh on flesh, bone on bone.
Vegeta advances. Taking the half of inch given and turning it to meters. A punch followed by a kick. A kick followed by a grapple. A grapple to a throw.
Kakarot hits a pine tree spine first. Falling to the ground with a thud. The prince moves to stand over him. Looking down at his damaged form. Only a few scrapes, but enough to make Vegeta’s heart burn with a sadistic fever.
“Pathetic.” A gloved hand grabs full of messy hair. Pulling the other to look up. Then a smack cracks across Kakarot’s face. The skin blushing up in a pinkish rose. He gasps in response. Reflexes bringing fingers to touch the hurt. Before they reach a white boot slams down on the wrist moving them.
“Nothing but low-class trash.” Vegeta’s eyes finally wander downwards. Taking in the way the younger breathes so heavy. The way his bottom half swells at the abuse. Sitting so oblivious and tempting. Body language screaming for attention.
“Disgusting slut.” Royal knees sit at the sides of dirty orange pants. The fist full of hair moves to the throat sitting pretty below it. Squeezing tight, almost to the point of suffocating. The other claws at a blue tank top. Staggering inhale betraying the bliss behind rolled back eyes.
Without warning clothed hips crash onto one another. Both rutting in perfect unison. Needing of the friction it creates. Kakarot struggles beneath the pressure. Unable to make the choice of breath over bucking upwards. His mind is starting to go foggy from the lack of oxygen. His wind pipe open, but nothing filters through.
Vegeta scoffs at the pitiful sight before him. The satisfaction of seeing his rival completely at his mercy is making him impatient. A lingering desperation growing with each passing moment. Unwilling to wait for what he came for any longer.
Ivory teeth bite at Vegeta’s glove. His free hand bare for not even a moment before three fingers are shoved into Kakarot’s mouth. He happily laps at them. Savoring the feeling of it choking him even farther. The blur over his mind deepens. The cry for air being drowned out by a haze. His vision is starting to go. Tears prickle at the corners of blown out eyes.
Just as the younger threatens to go dark, the digits blocking his airway pull back. He barely gets a breath in as the grasp around his neck tightens. Simultaneously the same hips grind into him double time.
Suddenly climax smashes into Kakarot. Shaking his core as a strained moan slips past his lips. The tears in his eyes break and fall heavy down his face. Hindered sobs follow. His nails grazing desperately at that same tank top.
“Pitiful.” Vegeta finally lets the other’s throat free. Biting off his second glove and almost ripping off Kakarot’s sash. Once loose enough, a hand goes down both of their pants. One at the his ass and the other’s cock.
“V-Vegeta, wait.. I just- hnn!” Post orgasm bliss quickly turns to overstimulation. Hot, sticky and too much. He attempts to wrangle himself against it. Struggling to keep still and take it. Knowing that’s exactly what the prince expects of him. To take any and all given with a smile.
“Vegeta! I-I can’t.. can’t ta- hahh! Ahahh!” Kakarot squirms under the hold. Unsurprisingly not able to hold his tongue. Another tear streams down his cheek as he’s forced to endure. Doing his best to avoid bucking Vegeta off.
The moment feels like it’s dragging on for eons. Forcing forth a resolve that is reserved for world ending threats. A will to prevail no matter the circumstances. The ability to persist, but used for such a merger and selfish purpose. Nonetheless, he refuses to break. Not now, not ever. Enduring being his only option.
Fried nerves threaten to snap when too much turns to not enough. Kakarot can help but feel himself getting closer to the edge he just slipped from. Impossibly closer with each moment. Like the euphoric high could bring him to another peak farther up.
“V-Vegeta, Vegeta please! Hic- pleaseee..!” He doesn’t know what he’s asking for. A break from the torment or a second release. The only thing Kakarot can focus on is the burning hot pit in his gut. The way it bubbles and pops. The fact that Vegeta is the one making him feel it. Every stroke, his iron grasp, all of it is from him.
Then suddenly it’s gone. In one swift moment Kakarot’s back is shoved from the tree to the cold ground. He opens his eyes, not realizing how tightly sown shut they were. Vegeta stood over him. His messed hands pulled down his pants before stepping out of them and his boots.
Kakarot marveled at his form. Muscles looked as if they were chiseled by the gods themselves. Holding up his gorgeous figure. Standing tall and proud. It was enough to put the pines around them to shame. Enough to make kakarot feel so small from his spot in the grass.
Vegeta kneeled down to straddle the body below him. Instinctively callused hands grab at his sides. Thumbs rubbing circles into the bone. It makes the older’s face soften ever so slightly. His signature scowl falling short. He hates how he loves feeling Kakarot’s hands on him. It makes his walls crumble faster than any torture.
Neither can wait any longer. Before inpatient urges can grow any stronger, Vegeta lifts himself. He spits in his hand then uses it to slick and guide the other to his entrance. With a careful practice shaky hips sink down. Hissing at the sting of rushed prep and insufficient lube. It’s doesn’t stop him though. A few moments and Kakarot is fully sheathed. Flush down to the hilt.
“Ohhh~ Vegeta…” Kakarot coos out incoherent praise. Bucking up uncontrollably. His grasp on Vegeta tightens as the two adjust. Savoring the moment they were brought back together.
“Oh, gods. Vegeta, I missed you.” The comment made Vegeta’s already flush face impossibly warmer. It has been a while since they’ve run off and did this. Their little song and dance. Connecting on such an intimate level.
“Sh-shut up.. fuck- shut up, you clown.” Just as the words leave his mouth his lower half starts moving. Rocking softly, making sure to feel and relish each and every second.
“Yer so hot. Drives me crazy.” A hand trails up Vegeta’s shirt. Grabbing at his peck. Squeezing and fondling carefully but firmly. The sensations make his insides flutter. Shamelessly arcing into the touch.
Gentle rutting turns harder. A faster pace that has them both panting. Both grinding into one another feverishly. Vegeta glances down at the other. Eating up the palatial whines falling from his lips.
His smooth features are scrunched together. Tightly knitted brows sit over half lidded eyes. They are glazed with a look only the prince can pull from him. One of utter bliss and unapologetic ecstasy. The kind of look that makes Vegeta forget his inhibitions.
“Hhn- off..” Kakarot tugs at the piece of clothing over his hand. Pouting as his halfhearted attempt only pushes it up the other’s chest. Vegeta is quick to comply. Too far gone for argument.
“So pretty.” Dull nails scrape down bare skin. It makes Vegeta’s core shiver. In return he claws at the younger’s messy hair. Tugging as his muscles tremble under the attention.
“An’ yer waist is real tiny.” Both Kakarot’s hands grab hard at the older’s sides. They hold him still while grounded hips suddenly thrust upwards. Plunging into Vegeta with a new vigor. One that has him reeling.
His legs are becoming weak, shaking with strain. His reply forfeit to the other’s mercy. Weight leaning into the hands that threaten to bruise his skin. To leave rosy divots in his flesh.
“I gotcha, ‘Geta.”Vegeta’s stomach stirs. All efforts of warning are for not. Everyone of his words fall short. Coming out as meaningless groans and murmurs, but Kakarot understands.
Kakarot picks up on all of the little hints that give away the prince. How his breath hitches. Thighs falter, face contorts, pupils dilate, insides constrict.
Hot white sprays across Kakarot’s chest. It’s followed by a strangled sob. He pushes to guide Vegeta through his orgasm, stride unwavering.
He’s not far behind. Watching Vegeta unravel above him and lose himself to satisfaction. It brings forth Kakarot’s own end. He rams up into the heat around him and paints the walls of the prince’s body. Burning ropes flood every crevice and stretched space left inside of him.
Time feels as if it has stopped. The two sit there, together as the high slowly fades. Their battered forms finally softening after all the excitement. Vegeta feels like putty. All the tension he holds being forgotten, even if only for a second. The heat between them cooling from the night air. It was a peace that solely this exact moment of winding down could bring. The cold, but soothing wind aiding the recovery process. The sweat on their bodies dripping away without promise of more. This was what Vegeta was truly addicted to. The feelings of his lustfully need being satiated.
Though just as the content came, it left. Kakarot effortlessly pulled Vegeta up and off. Placing him to his side like they hadn’t just done it again. Like they haven’t been doing this for a few months now. Running off into the middle of the night nearly twice a week to ravage one another like savages. That Vegeta, Prince to a dying race, wasn’t so desperate for the touch of a Saiyan that he’d turned to the one he once sought to kill. That they’ve both conditioned themselves to see this encounter as normal. This is the part Vegeta hates the most. The aftermath. The regret.
“Wow.. that was amazing, ‘Geta. You never fail to impress me. You wanna go again?” That was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Kakarot had barely caught his breath before Vegeta was sitting up. He grabbed his clothes and put them on. The younger expected him to return, like usually does. They fall into the cycle again or rest in the grass for a short while. Vegeta can’t take it anymore. How could he indulge in Kakarot so easily? He has two kids and a wife.
“No.” He mumbled with that familiar frown he wore. Kakarot pouted, but ultimately got up as well. Fetching his sash and fixing it back into place.
“Tomorrow Gohan and Videl are coming for lunch. You wanna join? We could get a real spar in, ehehe! I’ve been meanin’ to ask more about that new form he got while we were gone on Lord Beerus’ planet-” Kakarot continues to yap. Going on about his son and whatever else came to mind. It was all ignored though. Vegeta’s blood was starting to boil. Whenever he felt anything it always ended with rage. A frustration he could never tame.
“Shut up- shut up, Kakarot! I’m done. I’m done entertaining you!” Vegeta snapped, the same frown on his face going sour.
“Geez! Sorry, we don’t have to spar with Gohan. If you just want it to be us you can say that.” If his face was warm earlier then it’s red hot now. Vegeta shoves Kakarot to the ground. Towering over him with an anger like no other.
“No, you damn idiot! I’m done with you! I’m done with this!!” His hands gesture to the two of them. “I’m done running off into the woods in the middle of the night and- and-“ There’s a moment of hesitation. Its silence suffocating.
“Did.. I do something wrong?” Kakarot’s voice eats at Vegeta, and he hates it. He hates that he cares about how the other feels. He hates that the next words that come out of his mouth will make him cry.
“The only thing wrong was that I thought you would ever be anything more than low class fodder.” The insult finally hurts and Vegeta can’t bear to watch. He knows there’s tears streaming down Kakarot’s face. He doesn’t have to look.
“This is over. I’m done.” The energy in him is suddenly gone. He goes to fly away, but his body refuses. Just knowing what he’s done nearly breaks him. For first time in his life he has no fight left. No will to persist.
The air around them is heavy, and it burns Vegeta’s lungs. Every staggered breath attempting to be his last.
“I’m sorry...” The words are like a flaming dagger to Vegeta’s heart. “I-If you don’t want to- to do it anymore I-I won’t…” Kakarot’s sentence cuts short.
It dawns on Vegeta that this is the first time he’s heard the other truly stutter. No physical strain, no injury to blame. The first time he’s ever been rendered speechless from emotion alone. Another check on the list of reasons why Vegeta should’ve ended this sooner. He’s getting soft. Caring about someone who he never thought would have a chance.
“I don’t.” His own voice threatens to crack. Fall from the pressure of anger and guilt that it cannot hold up.
Kakarot is poorly hiding sobs. His gaze feeling like hot iron in Vegeta’s back. He can’t do it anymore. The prince finally finds the will to force himself from the ground. He’s never flown away from the other so slow.