Disclaimer: Akira Toriyama, people. Not me.

Warnings: yaoi, abuse, self-injury, some fluffiness(to lighten it a bit before midnight comes), more rape.

Thoughts: ‘blah’

Where Kakarott is King Pt5

Kakarott’s POV

I awoke in my soft bed, slightly past noon, wondering why my head hurt so much and where Vegeta was. The night before came rushing back to me in drunken clarity. I panicked, rushing into clothes and out of the palace, sans cloak, not caring who saw me, just that I got to my lover.

I ran down each street, knocking people out of my urgent way. Each street corner had a dirty old bar, it seemed, so I was forced to rush down each back alley, searching for my broken Vegeta.

Finally, on one of the furthest alleys, I found what I was looking for. Vegeta was huddled in on himself, covered in blood, buried in the cloak, his hand set at an odd angle. He seemed to have passed out.

I crouched beside him, shaking him desperately, yelling, "Vegeta, please, wake up. Wake up!"

He obey my command, opening bruised eyes. My lover flinched away from the light touch on his arm, fear of me clearly readable in his cracked eyes.

"No, Vegeta. I’m not going to hurt you. Please, you need to come home with me," I begged him.

I grabbed his arms, pulling him to his feet. He wobbled, falling against me. I decided against forcing him to walk, scooping him into my arms like a small child.

I walked gently down the streets, used to people bowing out of my way. Soon, we got out of the market, nearing my palace.

"Vegeta, I swear, I’ll never do this to you again," I promised the shaking figure in my arms.

He looked up at me, not quite believing.

- - - - - -

As soon as I got Vegeta into the palace, I took him to the med ward, getting him hooked up to a fast-healing iv and a sleeping mixture after the nurses cleaned him. I sat next to his still figure, holding his hand and watching his chest move up and down slowly, making sure he was still breathing.

Vegeta’s POV

I awoke, severely groggy and weak. My eyes slowly focused, taking in a white room, white bed, and my white skin. A hospital. How long had I been here? Then I saw Kakarott, in a chair beside my bed, watching me attently.

"Hello, love," his voice was hoarse, deep, dark circles under his eyes. His skin was also paler than I remembered.

"How long have I been here?" My voice sounded dusty, unused.

"A month."

My eyes tripled in size. "A month? Why?" I couldn’t remember anything accept the market.

"I . . . got drunk and . . . hit you. Beat you really. Horribly. I’m so sorry." Kakarott’s head collapsed upon my chest, tears hitting my sheets.

I caressed his hair, which was dirty, as if he hadn’t left my bedside the whole time.

Soon, his cries dried to hiccups, and he pulled off me, taking one of my hands to his lips, kissing it gently, over and over.

- - - - -

I was released a few days later, and Kakarot insisted that I go directly to my room, and he would bring me some food.

My Prince arrived with a large platter of fruit, which he lay on my lap as I rested on my bed, my top half propped up. I pulled several juicy pieces to my mouth, devouring the sweet fruit quickly. M y throat felt as if it had not seen water in years, so the honeyed nectar soothed my ache.

Kakarot was just watching me, so I turned to him, offering some of the fruit.

"No," he shook his head. "You need it to get your strength up."

I shrugged and finished the platter very soon, placing it on the bedside table.

"Where is all the stuff I bought that day?" I still couldn’t believe that it had been a month. Maybe a week perhaps.

"I still have the capsule," the Prince replied. "Would you like me to go get it for you?"

I nodded and he left the room, returning quickly with that same small pill, throwing it on a bare spot on the floor. All my stuff sprang back to life size, the bags all pushing at each other.

"May I get up and go through them?" I requested permission.

My Prince nodded.

I carefully pulled myself from the hand-made feather quilt, kneeling beside my packages. I pulled out each item, separating the clothes from the decorations, the baskets from the fruit.

"How is this still fresh?" I was astonished. All of the different fruits I had bought forever ago were not even bruised.

"I dunno. Must be an added advantage of these capsules," came the only answer I would have been able to come up with.

I pulled off the white top branding me as a hospital patient and pulled on a red top, slightly feminine, clinging to my body, the long sleeves billowing out.

Kakarott’s POV

I watched as Vegeta changed out of the bland clothing he had been given into a scarlet, velvety shirt and tight black jeans. He looked heavenly.

I came up behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist and pulling him back against me, taking in the still spicy scent of his hair. He leaned his head, looking up at me. Bending down and grabbing his lips, I let my teeth out, gently nipping and tugging at the soft skin before entering his open cavern, letting my tongue play with his.

Vegeta turned in my arms, pressing his front to mine. His hands grabbed my neck, pulling me down further. I couldn’t believe he was responding to me like this. It seemed as if his hospital stay had changed him somehow.

I broke back gently, a beautiful idea coming to my head.

"How would you like to go dancing?" I whispered down in Vegeta’s ear.

He nodded, looking up at me excitedly.

I stepped back, grabbing my lover’s hand, and led him from the room.

Vegeta’s POV

Kakarott took me to a far wing of the palace, a large, shiny hardwood dance floor. Soft music tumbled from hidden speakers on all sides. The Prince grabbed my waist, his other hand twining with mine. My arm went up on his other, and we began to dance.

We whirled through the room, our bare feet slapping the floor. Kakarott released me except for one hand, letting me twirl before pulling me back up against him. I giggled, happy for an odd change.

Suddenly, the song changed, a slow one this time. We swapped positions, both of Kakarott’s hands on my waist, mine around his neck. I stared up into his flushed face, suddenly self-conscious. I blushed, letting my eyes wander around, unsure of why I was allowing this after he had hurt me so horribly. Maybe not remembering it helped.

Kakarott’s face dipped to mine just as I looked back, our lips meeting with an electric spark. A deep kiss ensued, our bodies still moving to the beat.

The kiss finally died, and our eyes locked. The Prince looked odd then, the orbs adorning his face so bright.

"Lets go back to my room, shall we?"

I nodded, though I knew what he had planned.

We returned to his room, and I could see Kakarott about to burst out of his pants. I felt oddly the opposite. I was happyish, but not aroused.

The Prince flopped on his bed on his back, looking up at me expectantly. I perched on the barest of the edge, not wanting to be too close. My wishes were ignored, however, when Kakarott pulled me back to lay atop him, slightly off center.

"You know I want you," he stated huskily in my ear, then licking around the shell. "Do you want me?"

The question took me by surprise. Did I? Not truly, but truth is trouble. I chose not to answer.

Kakarott cared not, continuing to tease behind my ear, and over my neck, none affecting me in the least.

I let him play with me, seeing no other option.

His hips moved, grinding his hardness into my cleft, begging for release from his tight pants. I allowed the man to remove my shirt, even pulling up to take off the cloth more easily. His hands played over my nipples, though my brain picked up on none of the feelings meant to be transmitted to it. As if my brain had died and left me to fend for myself.

Soon, Kakarott was bare of his shirt also, his hot skin singing mine as he let his tail play under my pants, trying to arouse me. Suddenly, he yelled directly in my ear.

"Don’t want me, little whore? Think I won’t take you? You slut." Suddenly, my pants and underwear were ripped away, and I felt fear wrack my body.

His clothes removed also, his erection pressing against my opening. I shivered, trying desperately to jerk away, only to be ripped open, pleading.

"Stop, Gods, stop! Ahhhhhhh!" my throat ripped as my lower body did, his thrusts slow and harsh.

Sobbing, I was turned over, forced onto my stomach for easier usage. Hot blood poured over my thighs, soiling the bed sheets as the Prince’s moans invaded my ear.

Ages this went on, the tears on my inner walls eventually going numb, as did my soul. Finally, Kakarott stiffened, releasing his disgusting seed into me, them collapsing beside me. The second he was asleep, I snuck, bleeding still, from the room.

Laying on my bed, I grabbed one of the knives I had bought a month ago, relishing in its smooth consistency of sharp.

Pulling my sock down and laying it away from the old-looking scars, slicing as deep as I could, reparations for allowing Kakarott what I did.

- - - - -

Hope you liked it. I don’t know if it’ll ever get nice again. Sorry.