Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Yamcha & Vegeta ❯ Chapter 4 ( Chapter 4 )

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ.

By: SSLetta

Pairings: Yamcha X Vegeta

Notes: This is my first yaoi (I always just read it before), so there shouldn't be anything too graphic. `Denotes thought.'

Rating: R, for the friendly men situation, if you catch my drift. A certain friend of mine wouldn't *couchLordesscough*

Yamcha & Vegeta

It wasn't until late at night when Yamcha finally shut down his gravity machine, thoroughly exhausted. Again, he tried to beat the thought of that blood sucking saiyan prince out of his mind. He was fairly certain that pheromones played a large part in his situation, and that was all the reasoning he needed. All he had to do was stay away from Vegeta when he came out for breaks, and he wouldn't have a problem anymore, but that in itself, was the problem. Every time he left his gravity room, it seemed the prince decided to show his face. `Does he do that on purpose? Just coming out when I do to see if he can get a little pleasure? I'm not going to give into him!' No sooner than he thought the words, he realized that he was finding that harder and harder to do, even now, as the prince ran through his mind, he felt himself grow a little red in the face. `That's not pheromones. Is this, `kicking in?' Am I going to wonder what that is every time he comes near me?' He absently wondered to himself, praying he was wrong, and that since he was human, he would not be affected by whatever `kicking in' was. If he was lucky, than this was all the further it would go, a little blushing and a slight pounding in his chest. That was more like having a crush, and people definitely didn't sleep with everyone they had a crush on.

He sighed as he walked away from the main console to the door. He paused to open the door onto a star-blanketed night. A cool breeze brushed against his face as he stepped into the night. He took a deep breath and jumped off the ramp, allowing it to rise up and back into a section of the wall. A motion detector caught his movements, sending a flood of light in a small circle outside the door of his gravity machine. He couldn't sense the Briefs family yet, telling him that they probably went to a business conference that had run late and wouldn't be back until the morning. Mrs. Briefs usually went with when both Bulma and her father went, but she would otherwise stay at home. He wasn't sure if he was glad of that now, or not.

"Quitting already?" a deep voice asked from behind him, sending chills up his spine. Yamcha spun around, knowing whom it was. He saw Vegeta leaning against a tree, arms crossed, hidden before by its shadows, which still concealed his face.

"Do you just focus on my power level all day long?!"

"I train as well."

"I thought I told you earlier to stay away from me!"

"You did."

"So why didn't you?" Yamcha growled. Vegeta didn't answer, instead he just stepped forward, out from under the ceiling of green leaves. His face somehow looked a little more relaxed, although Yamcha couldn't put his finger on what exactly was the reason for this.

"Why do you keep preying on me?!"

"You are my mate. Whether you like it or not, you marked me like I marked you."

"What?" Vegeta stepped into the yellow circle of light, and tilted his neck. Yamcha leaned in for a better look, and felt sickened when he saw two scabbing wounds at the base of the prince's neck.

"We marked each other, we chose each other."

"That means nothing to a human," Yamcha said, turning around to walk away. Had he looked back, he would've seen the saiyan pale slightly at those words. He knew he had to do something or he might never have his mate at all. Vegeta was not one to be easily deterred, and at that last rebuttal, he made up his mind to do something that would put his pride and sanity on the line: beg.

"Wait…" he started out softly, the hint of pleading and command in his voice enough to make Yamcha listen, although, spin around angrily.

"Why should I?"

"I… please…" Vegeta said, stepping forward, his face oddly full of emotion, it was not much to a human, but to the saiyan prince, it held more weight than gold. Yamcha could easily pick out want, worry, desperation, and there were a few others he couldn't quite place. He was sure the prince had never said anything like this before to anyone, and for a moment, he softened, but he was too angry for it to last. He snorted and started walking out of the pool of light. The man was a stalker. The saiyan felt his heart drop in his chest; he knew he was fighting a losing battle, but he had one last card to play. It was only a matter of getting closer to the man. He had wanted his mate to come to him, to accept him, but if he had to dangle by a string for a little while, he could eventually climb up it. The man had to accept him someday, he refused to be a rejected saiyan, and he refused to live without him.

Without a moment's hesitation, Vegeta appeared mere inches in front of Yamcha, gabbing him by the shoulders and staring into his eyes. Yamcha found himself frozen in place as he realized what the saiyan intended to do. It didn't take long for a gloved hand to position itself under his nose while another one reached around his waist, drawing him closer to the prince. At first, he tried holding his breath while pushing away, but muscles in use need oxygen, and he found himself gasping in air a second later. It was all it took before he found himself wrapping his arms around the saiyan's neck.

"You said I'd come to you."

"You will, soon enough."

"I think I like you begging."

"That can be arranged," the prince chuckled, having no problem with that type of begging at all. He drew Yamcha up into his arms, and kissed him deeply, allowing himself to explore the man's mouth, while the other did the same. He inhaled the human's scent, memorizing it like he had the first time, so he could always find his dear mate. The scent was as much of a drug to him as his was to Yamcha, but he had the disadvantage of a stronger sense of smell, and could pick it up from much farther away. He just knew that as long as the other man was around, he felt content.

Vegeta tightened his grip on Yamcha, and lifted into the air. He had somewhere in particular in mind, and headed off for a small, secluded island. It took only a few minutes to go a few hundred miles with the speed he was using. When he at last had it in sight, he returned his attention to Yamcha, and kissed him fully as they set down. Yamcha responded readily, and pulled them both down to the sandy ground, Vegeta allowing himself to being pulled down to meet the beach. Yamcha pushed Vegeta onto his back, and nipped at his ear, then his jaw line, and then his neck. He reached to the neckline of the fabric that clothed his prince, and tore it off, exposing the muscled chest. Yamcha ran his hands over the saiyan's skin sensually, feeling every inch of him, and picking off the gloves as he went.

Vegeta did his part, and tore his mate's shirt off, rendering it useless. Then, he reached lower, and soon took care of that restriction as well, leaving only a pair of white boxers left. The prince flipped Yamcha onto his back, and straddled him as he bent to touch his lips to his mate's chest. He allowed his tongue to slip out and run over the smooth, firm skin. He smirked as he felt a shudder of pleasure run through the man beneath him. `He'll soon be doing more than shuddering.' Vegeta moved his mouth lower to meet with the elastic of the boxers, finding it impossible to wait any longer. He slipped his fingers inside and pulled them off purposefully.

His mate's need was apparent, and he wasn't going to keep him waiting any longer. He dipped his head down, smiled evilly, and engulfed the swollen shaft. He was rewarded with soft moans from his lover's lips, and began to swirl his tongue around the sensitive flesh as he slowly brought his lips down to the base and back up to the tip. He pressed his teeth down, and let them scrape against his mate's erection as went back down, receiving a low growl of approval, as he made the man buck and writhe in ecstasy. The prince began to go faster with each stroke, allowing the man beneath him to call out in sheer pleasure. Calling out his name, which filled his soul and massaged his bottled up emotions that he hated to admit he had. He had called out his name.

Vegeta could feel his mate reaching the edge, arching his back, not wanting this to end, but wanting it to happen. He flicked his tongue along the hardened organ, urging on the explosion. He went to the base again, and relaxed his throat, allowing the man to erupt inside his mouth, the salty substance sliding down to his stomach as he engraved the memory of the taste. `Kami, he tastes good!' He brought his head back up, and bringing up a bare finger to flick a small droplet back into his mouth that had escaped. He smirked down at his panting mate, running his hands up his chest, and stopping just below his neck.

"My turn," Vegeta said, flipping Yamcha onto his hands and knees, as he found a grip on his hips. Yamcha let out a grunt of surprise as he suddenly found himself in a new position. The prince ran soothing hands across his back and kissed up his spine until he reached his ears.

"Just relax. This won't hurt like last time." Vegeta caressing the man's back as he took two fingers, and stuck them in his mouth. When they were thoroughly coated with saliva, he placed them in the man's tight opening, sliding them back and forth, then added a third finger, feeling Yamcha quiver and shake. Then, he extracted the fingers, and thrust in gently himself, and pulled back, leaving only the tip inside. He smiled to himself as the man gasped. The prince pressed in again, feeling the other man buck with him, enjoying the tight, warm feel.

Vegeta closed his eyes and he reared against his mate, loving the feel of him, loving the feel of having him. Vegeta pressed harder and faster, panting along with the other, as they were one. He was joined with this man before him, physically, emotionally, and spiritually; he did not wish to be separated. `Do you realize what I feel for you? How I need you? How I can't live without your touch or acceptance'? Vegeta thrust, ground, drove into him, groaning loudly as he felt himself getting nearer and nearer to bursting. He could feel his mate's blissful moans before they escaped his mouth. With one final buck, he spurted his seed into the man, throwing his head back, and proclaiming to the heavenly night stars the name of the one he loved.

They both collapsed onto the ground, breathing heavily, as they caught their breaths. After a few moments, Vegeta rose, pulling himself out of Yamcha, who turned onto his back to watch him. The prince smiled down at him, running a naked hand along his jaw line.

"Thank you, Yamcha." Yamcha's eyes widened in surprise, and even more so when the prince lay next to him, resting his royal head just beneath his mate's chin, throwing an arm across his chest. Yamcha smiled and closed his eyes, drifting off to sleep, and snuggling into his prince, liking the feel of saiyan skin more and more.

*****

Yamcha's eyes flew open and he rushed to his feet. Although he did not see the saiyan prince in sight, he did see torn clothing along a sandy beach, and could remember quite vividly what happened this time. He sank to his knees, letting his hands fall loosely at his sides as he felt a sinking feeling in his chest. Yamcha knew he had to be honest with himself. `I can't control myself whenever I smell his scent. I slept with him, but I've never been interested in another man before. I hate him because I think he raped me, but could he control himself anymore than I could? What about Bulma? Would she think that the reason we grew apart was because I was sleeping with Vegeta while we were together? That would hurt her; besides, I was taught that men should sleep with women, not men with men!' He slumped his shoulders in confusion, and exhaustion. He was certain he didn't want Vegeta, but he continually found himself at the prince's mercy. `It's just saiyan pheromones and hormones. I never felt anything other than contempt for him before. He said so himself,` it kicks in.'' Yamcha tried desperately to rationalize his way out of his internal conflict, finding himself more confused than ever.

It was when he saw the prince resurface above the water, a gigantic fish struggling to free itself from his grip that Yamcha felt his heart skip a beat, and realization dawned on him. `I can't be in love with Vegeta! There's no way! He's a murderer!' It was as the lovely, sinewy murderer made his way back to shore that Yamcha knew how much he wanted him. `That's not the point, whether or not I want him! I… I just can't…' He watched as the saiyan briefly eyed him worriedly, but said nothing as he went about cleaning the fish about ten yards away, where a fire was snapping.

Yamcha watched the other man until he smelled the cooked fish, and could see the prince remove it from the flames that he got up and walked over to the saiyan. The prince avoided eye contact, appearing very nervous, which made Yamcha want to break out laughing. `This, the man who stood up against Freiza, the best match you can find for Goku, is nervous around me, a weak human!' Yamcha frowned when he thought about why. `He's afraid that I'll blow up at him again. Maybe it's time I found out all I can about this saiyan mating stuff.'

Vegeta wordlessly offered the cooked fish to Yamcha, still avoiding his eyes, pretending to find the fire the most interesting thing in the world while really he was dying in the silence. `To act and behave so foolishly is an insult to my saiyan heritage!' Still, he couldn't help feeling… inadequate. `Say something! Anything! Just get it over with!' He realized that thinking it did no good, but he couldn't bring himself to speak the words. The words that might seal his fate, be his doom.

"Tell me about the saiyan mating cycle," Yamcha demanded, his face hard and emotionless, causing the prince to snap his head up and stare at him with furrowed eyebrows, his features failing to betray what he felt: dumbfounded.