Author:              Kiarene

Pairings:           Radditz/Vegeta

Warnings:         AU, more angst, guard abuse, non-consensual situations

Disclaimer:        Don’t own DBZ

Published:         26th October 2003

Archive?            Please ask first

 

And finally, the last chapter. This story could never have been possible without Lully! Thanks for reading over and picking up my mistakes, and then further improving on what’s already there. And thanks also for the inspiring conversations that eventually allowed me to work my way through the muddle of this story! *hugs*

 

‘…thoughts…’

 

~          a passing of time

~ ~ ~   a longer passing of time

 

 

Love Potion 6

 

 

Remove from heat, stirring all the while until the mixture becomes clear. Decant and bottle.

 

 

In the harsh, bright light of day, or at least the bright lamps of the classroom, the situation seemed clear and straightforward to Vegeta: Radditz had wronged him badly and abused his trust. He could easily order Radditz’ execution for his crime; he certainly had the jurisdiction to do so. And yet, thinking about such a punishment made him uneasy for reasons he dared not delve too deeply into. Surely it was only because he appreciated Radditz’ years of excellent service.

 

He kept remembering how he had felt when he found out about Radditz’ duplicity; he had felt absolutely furious, betrayed, but most of all, he felt hurt. To be tricked, to be used

 

To think he had thought – had naďvely, stupidly hoped – that it was something more… 

 

Was it only just yesterday?

 

And yet, he also kept recalling the good times. The pain was raw and fresh, yes, but Radditz was also the person he was closest to; someone he cared for, someone he respected and confided in. Someone he realized he still respected. Someone he still cared for, someone he hadn’t realized he cared so deeply for.  

 

And so he had kept quiet, knowing that the truth, if it leaked out, would definitely ruin the guard’s chances at future employment. Officially, his bodyguard had been feeling restless after being planet-bound for years and had wanted a change, and they were parting on perfectly amicable terms. So he claimed.

 

No. If he were to be brutally frank, it was more than just that. He had been furious, yes, but he couldn’t really bear to …hurt Radditz.

 

Maybe he had judged Radditz too harshly. Radditz was rough and roguish, but he knew the guard was honest and had been sincere about his remorse….

 

No! Vegeta snarled mentally in a flash of hot anger, his emotions snapping back to the other extreme. It was a serious breach of trust; it was practically rape! It was not a drunken night of debauchery or carelessness. And that trust was now irrevocably gone. As he had told Radditz, he could not afford to have a bodyguard he could not trust. 

 

Yet…

 

Yet he felt terrible. Torn and hurt and so very confused. Why was it all so very difficult? This was just an isolated incident, a mere blip on their long relationship, and more often than not, he found himself thinking of the better times. After all, one incident does not define a person.

 

Vegeta hunched over his computer screen as he tuned out the droning of the lecturer, sinking his forehead into opened hands as his mind wandered back to Radditz again. While some of his year-mates around him were diligently taking notes and paying attention, most were ignoring the elderly Saiyajin in front and doing their own thing. His eyes flickered to the screen of the boy sitting beside him in wry amusement; Buroli was writing some torrid, smutty story again, fingers flying over the keyboard and pink tongue darting out occasionally to lick at the corner of his lips.

 

On his part, the lecturer couldn’t and wouldn’t be bothered. They were the children of Elites: nobles and military brass and other important – and so very, very busy – parents whom he knew better than to offend. Most of them were brilliant: good genes, strong breeding, only spoiled and coddled.

 

“Want to read?” A low hiss from his side.

 

Vegeta shook his head wearily. “Not today.”

 

“Your loss. It’s really steamy.”

 

“What is it about again? A threesome sandwich between twins?” Vegeta sneered. “Oh, that’s so new.”

 

Buroli purred, dark eyes glazing with lust.

 

“Most of your stories are the same!” Vegeta snorted. “Everyone knows of your fetish for twins.”

 

“Not all,” Buroli defended himself. “I wrote about a triplet orgy once…”

 

“I don’t particularly care,” Vegeta cut in snidely and opened up his astrophysics homework on his computer in a blatant attempt to ignore the other boy.

 

There was a short pause, and then Buroli said softly, “What’s really up with you today, Vegeta?”

 

“Nothing.” Vegeta thought about it and changed his mind. It would be public knowledge soon anyway. “Actually, Radditz is leaving so I’m just preoccupied about hiring a new bodyguard. That’s all. And don’t ask me for more details.”

 

“Ah.”

 

Vegeta started on a routine calculation, tedious but rather straightforward. But when he realized his answer came out wrong for the fourth time in a row because the numbers in the column were starting to run into one another and he kept missing some, he closed the program with a snarl.

 

“Hey…” Buroli whispered again. “Have you thought about who you’re going to hire?”

 

Vegeta bit back a scathing retort. The other boy knew he was clearly agitated and was only trying to help. When Vegeta remained silent, Buroli went on tentatively, “I heard the twins came out tops in the Guards’ ranking this quarter.”

 

“Twins?”

 

The slim, pale-skinned boy nodded animatedly. “Yeah. Radditz’ younger brothers, Kakarrot and Turles. They’re going to graduate from Guards training soon. You really should consider them. They make a great team, and think about it, two bodyguards are much better than one. Plus, I know they work really, really well as a team.”

 

Vegeta remained skeptical. “And the fact that they are …twins …had nothing to do with your recommendation?”

 

“Well… I’ll have to admit that fact caught my attention. But they are very good looking…” Buroli grinned shamelessly. He had probably spent hours staking out the Guards’ locker rooms. “Very fu~ck~able.”

 

“Why haven’t you hired them then?” Vegeta asked curiously.

 

“Me? I’m just a scientist’s son. Nobody important. I don’t rate a bodyguard.” Buroli pouted, heavy lashes fluttering deprecatingly. That much was true. Buroli’s father was brilliant and respected, but hardly a target. However, the deceptively slender and pretty young man didn’t really need to hire bodyguards; he attracted protective, burly males like flies to honey.

 

“But if you don’t snap them up soon, they’ll get shipped off-planet to some godforsaken way station on the other side of the galaxy, and that would be such a waste indeed.”

 

“Indeed,” Vegeta said dryly. “Do I really want you hanging about my quarters and drooling on my floor and generally making a pest of yourself after I hire them?”

 

“I wouldn’t.” Buroli looked affronted. “I am just giving you a suggestion. There’s no need to be so insulting.”

 

“I’ll think about it.” Vegeta snorted again, feeling slightly better after the banter.

 

~

 

However, his thoughts for the remainder of the day were not of Radditz’ replacement, but rather of the longhaired guard.

 

He had never thought about Radditz in a sexual manner before this whole mess started. He had normal urges; he had noticed a couple of his year-mates in passing, but nothing like this. Nothing so …vivid, so lucid, so explicit…

 

He remembered the dream. And then remembered that it wasn’t a dream.

 

So very …real.

 

Vegeta swallowed, unconsciously pressing his inner thighs together, and then cursed when he realized what he was doing. Cursing again, he looked down at the book he was supposed to be studying in dismay and slammed the book closed.

 

It was well past midnight but he was too keyed up to sleep.

 

And now, he couldn’t stop thinking about Radditz in that light. It was entirely the sneaky bastard’s fault, defiling his body and corrupting his thoughts. He felt …raped. Not so much physically, but mentally. For the choice to decide who he lusted for, the choice of who he – dare he admit it? – cared for, had been supplanted.

 

And yet, it had felt wonderful. It hadn’t really felt like rape because it just felt so good. It wasn’t rape… was it? Rape was about pain and force and being made to do something he didn’t want…

 

Or did he want it, subconsciously? He recalled his midnight excursion into Radditz’ room to return the vial unhappily.

 

Just thinking about it aroused him, and Vegeta slid his chair back reluctantly. Leaning back, he freed his erection and started to stroke slowly. Blood rushed downward and suddenly, he did not want to think about ethical or psychological issues; all he wanted was …

 

The feel of smooth, heated skin on his. The caress of soft lips. The press of hard muscle. On him, enveloping him, searing him…  

 

He hadn’t known that sex could be like that: the warm intimacy, the indescribable pleasure, the connection…. Even the orgasms were different. Fuller. Rippling through him and engulfing him in an immense wave.

 

Vegeta tilted his head back, eyes closed in a grimace as his right hand moved faster. He felt the familiar pounding rush that seemed to pool all the blood down there, his balls already pulling up in delicious tension, but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t the same…

 

It wasn’t enough!

 

Sitting up with a wide-eyed gasp, he pulled out a drawer in his desk and rummaged frantically for a small bag. He tipped the contents out on the table, small black discs clattering on top of his papers. Sifting through them, he found a mild sedative. It worked in the same manner as alcohol, relaxing inhibitions and confounding the senses – it would do.

 

He was insane, he knew he was.

 

Maybe it was just a momentary, overwhelming lust-attraction for Radditz because he was inexperienced.

 

Maybe he just needed to satisfy his …curiosity. Collect some empirical data.

 

Vegeta sneered at that excuse and swept up a disc. He was walking out of the door before he realized it, and then it was almost too late to think.

 

He had a momentary pang of doubt when the door to Radditz’ bedroom opened to his touch, the hiss sounding loud in the quiet stillness of the night, and then he looked in and saw the curled form on the floor. And then he found he didn’t care. Any hesitation disappeared when he stepped into the room, the blanketing darkness seeming to muffle and hide his covert actions, and he suddenly understood why dark deeds were commonly done at night. There was a certain nerve-singing rush, where one feels invisible and invincible, and the temptation to indulge in that hidden curiosity becomes irresistible.

 

He could have excused himself on a handful of logical, glib reasons, but he didn’t. He couldn’t. It was as if his body was moving of its own volition, and nothing existed but him and Radditz.

 

He found himself moving across the room and then crouching over the guard; he heard the sibilant puff as he administered the sedative. Carefully, he lifted the heavy male onto the rumpled bed and stripped him. As he pulled his own clothes off, he wondered briefly at his momentary lapse of sanity. Perhaps it was the dark, or perhaps it was his anger that made him so bold.

 

And perhaps it all didn’t matter. Arousal and reckless abandon percolated through his nerves; he ceased to think, analyze, regret. He only wanted to feel and relish and savor.

 

What mattered was now. Him. Them.

 

The warmth of another body. The heavy tail that puffed as if startled when he slid into bed and then wrapped around his waist as he flowed into the guard’s embrace. It felt welcoming and it felt right and he closed his eyes with a purr and he lost himself. 

 

Soft muffled sounds and hungry movements. His touch. His presence.

 

Nothing else.

 

Him.

 

~

 

Vegeta awoke slowly, stretching languidly from an endorphin-soused sleep. For a few moments, the world looked sleep-blurred. He blinked, turning over, legs and tail twisting lazily to follow his upper half and absently draped an arm over a warm body as he wriggled in closer.

 

Then he remembered where he was. What he had done.

 

Saw the warm body he was curled against. Saw who lay beside him.

 

His eyes widened and cleared, and he writhed away in panic from the tangle of limbs, scrambling off the bed in clumsy haste. Radditz was a heavy sleeper and did not awaken at the sudden movements; he simply turned over. Pausing only to gather his clothes, Vegeta ran out of the room, heart hammering.

 

How… Why…

 

He had even shocked himself speechless.

 

Quickly, he stepped into his shower, wanting to bathe and get dressed; to be out of the apartments before the guard awoke. The water was hot, almost scalding, but he didn’t care; he wanted to purge the scent of the older male from his pores. To drive out the memories.

 

Vegeta closed his eyes as bergamot-fragrant steam furled around him, the heavy pounding spray strangely calming. It worked; the scents of sex and sweat and Radditz no longer clung to him, and he started to calm down slightly after his panic-driven flight from the guard’s bedroom. But it didn’t – couldn’t – erase the events of the previous night.

 

Why? Because he wanted to.

 

How? …All too easily, he admitted.

 

Finally turning off the shower, he reached for a towel. Vegeta shivered when he stepped out into the cooler bedroom, shivers that had nothing to do with the temperature. The small black discs on his table glinted dully in the morning light as if mocking him. Angrily, he swept them into the pouch and was about to throw it away when something held him back.

 

Weak!  He scolded himself scornfully. He should have resisted such impulses, both last night and now, should have resisted them easily –- but he did not.

 

He glared at the small pouch in his hand, but the same small, tempting thought that had crept in the previous night had apparently taken up permanent residence within him. Knowing he would regret it but unable to stop himself, he opened the lowest drawer in his desk and tossed the small bag into the far corner.

 

Just in case…. Just because.

 

He left his room furtively, further irritated by the fact that he was reduced to creeping around his own apartments.

 

It certainly wasn’t one of his better mornings.

 

If anything, his nocturnal indulgence – he tried to convince himself it was an experiment, a fact-finding foray – left him even more confused than before. He felt fuzzy. Slow. Distracted. Was it due to a lack of sleep? No, it wasn’t that. He had enjoyed a restful slumber, ironically.

 

And that was what really disturbed him: how good his sleep was, how right it felt to curl up against another warm body, how utterly perfect it felt to fall asleep next to the larger guard.

 

It was as if there was this huge itch, tingling under his skin and raising his hackles, but it wasn’t a bad kind of itch. It was a sense of heightened awareness, but only for Radditz. He could tell when the guard neared – there was this certain scent – and he could feel Radditz’ stare upon him. Whenever he turned around, his eyes zeroed in on the tall guard immediately, unerringly. Radditz was tall, his long hair unmistakable, but Vegeta hadn’t really noticed before just how much time Radditz spent with him. Ire replaced embarrassment. Was Radditz stalking him?

 

Then again, Radditz was supposed to be his bodyguard, an inner voice pointed out slyly. He had no reason to blame the guard in this instance; he knew logically he was projecting his irritation onto Radditz’ normal actions.

 

Cranky and as tensed as an over-wound spring, he snapped back whenever Radditz approached him to try to talk and explain. Rebuffing him, as if to make up for his lack of will the night before, as if pushing him away now would make up for his failure to do so the night before. And poor Radditz backed off but not away, to hover at a distance.

 

He knew what Radditz had been trying to tell him. Despite appearances, despite Radditz’ clumsy but heartfelt words, he had listened to what Radditz said.

 

But knowing and understanding didn’t make forgiveness any easier. He wanted to blame Radditz; he wanted his righteous anger; he didn’t want to have to be reasonable and see it from the other’s point of view.

 

He was hurt. Betrayed. Furious. He wanted it to be black and white, right or wrong, clear-cut, obvious.

 

Yet, he could not deny the frisson of pleasure, ruthlessly quashed as soon as it bubbled up, when he had heard the soft words “I do love you”, when he realized that Radditz did care for him greatly. And he could not deny that a small, tired part of him wanted to just give in, forgive, forget, sweep the whole shitty mess under the proverbial carpet and maybe then everything would go back to the way it was. 

 

That, of course, was stupid and utterly impossible.

 

Vegeta snarled angrily as he paced in agitation around his room. It was late, but he couldn’t seem to relax, much less sleep.

 

He had been reduced to hiding in his room. Oh, the irony! He, he was the wronged party here! Did Radditz think that some pretty words and groveling would smooth over that? His forgiveness, however slight, would imply his acceptance of what had been done to him. Which, he would not – could not – allow. He would not allow any of his peers, any Elite, to treat him so, much less a guard! He was the crown prince!

 

Vegeta slowed down, steps faltering. A proud, confused, unhappy crown prince.

 

As if manipulated by an outside source, he found himself opening that drawer and taking out the small pouch. The small black discs spilled onto the desk and though his hand hovered hesitantly above them, Vegeta’s mind was already made up.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Onto Chapter 6 (Part 2)





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