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Goku didn’t know what Vegeta was up to until it was too late. He couldn’t fight him once it happened. He succumbed to that gaze, weakened by that voice when at the end of their spar in the middle of nowhere, Vegeta hissed into his ear, “Come with me.”
And Goku followed. He wandered away from their sparring location to a grassy field located inside a thicket of trees, a place he knew Vegeta enjoyed immensely. He walked right to it and let Vegeta manhandle him in that moment. Let him unravel his gi belt, let him jerk his pants down, let him push him down to the ground and let him shove his gi top and blue short sleeve shirt all the way up to his armpits. Because it always felt good. Vegeta always made this feel so damn good.
He kissed Vegeta back when those lips descended over his, sucked in his tongue and wrapped his naked legs around his waist, grinding their hard cocks together. He moaned at the same time Vegeta moaned, sucking on the man’s tongue as their hips thrusted together in the tall patches of grass. The smell of Vegeta mixed with the earthy smell of the woods and it turned Goku on more than before, when they were fighting and the thrill and the rush of the spar went right to his dick.
Hands that could kill a normal man gripped his hips, bruising the skin, and Goku broke away from their kiss to cry out on top of his lungs, digging his fingernails into Vegeta’s warm, muscled back. Teeth sunk into his neck soon after, teeth that marked and sucked and bit and licked the way Goku loved—the way Goku knew Vegeta loved doing to him—and he panted for air, gasped for it, needing more friction, needing Vegeta to do something.
But those hands forced his hips into place. They kept him still, action speaking for silent words, and Goku whimpered, one hand clawing down Vegeta’s back, leaving long, red welts in its wake.
A hiss against his ear, against his neck. Vegeta’s deep growls.
Teeth bit harder into the juncture of his neck and shoulder.
Goku gasped, squeezing his eyes even tighter. “V-Vegeta!”
“Quiet,” Vegeta snarled, and Goku felt the world spin when those hips twisted him around until he landed on his chest, face first.
He grunted in pain, lifting up to his forearms, but a strong gloved hand left his hip to push down onto his upper back, planting his chest and the side of his cheek onto the grass and the dirt. Another action speaking for words, and Goku allowed that to happen. He let Vegeta hold him down with one hand, while the other lifted his hips up with ease, knees landing onto the grass, digging into wet dirt—and he blushed hard when he felt Vegeta yanking his thighs wide open, cool air hitting his exposed ass and hanging balls.
The hand on his upper back left him for his right ass cheek. He licked his lips, waiting for Vegeta’s fingers to dive in and—
SLAP
Goku shouted, “FUCK!”
His right ass cheek pulsed hard—
SLAP
He yelped when that gloved hand hit the same spot.
SLAP-SLAP
Then the other cheek.
Goku buried his face into the dirt and the grass.
SLAP
The grass muffled his next shout.
SLAP
And the next.
SLAP
And his whimper after that.
He panted for air, his fingers framing the sides of his head, clawing into the dirt. His ass cheeks burned and pulsed, his cock leaked precum onto the ground—and he gasped hard when two cool, gloved hands rested on each ass cheek and squeezed hard.
Then those hands spread his cheeks wide open. Painfully open.
Hot breath landed right over the hole.
Goku whimpered.
A teasing, wet, hot tongue. Right there. Just licking. Teasing and tasting him. Not delving inside though. No, that wasn’t Vegeta’s style. He knew that now, and Goku liked it. He enjoyed it. How Vegeta would torture him like he was now, the tip of that talented tongue working over the rim, down to his taint, licking the perineum in small, small circles. The gentle pressure there drove him crazy every time, and Vegeta exploited it as only Vegeta could do: the tongue pressing ever so gently with each lick, each circle, right where his prostate was inside. Teasing him with what Goku needed badly, intensifying the pressure of his tongue little by little, slowly, until Goku couldn’t stop the whines and gasps and weak, pitiful murmurs that bled out of him. And he didn’t care. He couldn’t, not with the way Vegeta was playing with him, using him, taking him to places only Vegeta could take him to. Places Goku never knew existed, until Vegeta opened up his world.
That tongue drifted away from his perineum, up again to work his hole, the warm wetness teasing him further. His own precum hit his nostrils, and Goku dug his fingers into the dirt, because he knew not to touch himself. But every circle to his hole, every teasing lick, every single dip of that tongue pushing inside himself caused Goku to ache everywhere, from the top of his head all the way to his toes. Until Vegeta gripped his hips even harder, he had no idea his body was thrusting back onto that tongue, and he didn’t care. Goku couldn’t care about anything but this, only this. Only Vegeta.
Then that tongue slowly licked a wet path up the cleft of his ass, right to his sacrum, licking and sucking skin and giving tiny bites here and there. More licks, more tiny sucks, slowly trailing upwards. All the way to the tip of his tail scar. He grit his teeth, preparing for the worst—and his eyes blew wide open, a high-pitched shriek scratching his throat, his hips jutting up and out and his body shaking everywhere because the pleasure, the fire, the all-encompassing white-hot burn that came right from that area, an area he thought only brought pain and nothing else.
And Vegeta wasn’t stopping. He didn’t even seem to react to Goku’s cry, solely focused on the task before him: to show Goku the pleasure he yet again didn’t know existed.
Something warm hit his wrists and ankles. He turned his head, dirt skidding across his cheek, blinking away sudden tears, and he found the tell-tale sign of a ki cuff on his left wrist, thrumming and pulsing in yellow-blue, locking him down to the ground.
A slow, slow lick, on the underside of the scar.
Goku whimpered, “Oh…”
Then another slow, slow lick.
“Oh!”
Each lick, each circle to the nub, from Vegeta’s experienced, wet mouth, and Goku reacted to each one. Soft whimpers. Sharp, pained, little “oh”’s and “ah”’s and “uhn”’s. His cock ached to be touched, his mind screamed at him to beg, to plead with Vegeta, but he didn’t want to give in just yet. Because Vegeta wasn’t stopping. His hands released Goku’s hips, but that talented tongue didn’t stop. That slow, deliberate, wet heat circled the nub clockwise, counter-clockwise, up and down, side to side, each movement causing Goku to hump the air as best he could, but the ki rings held him firm. Hands stroked his back, gentle strokes that spoke of sweetness, but Vegeta’s mouth and Vegeta’s dark chuckle said otherwise. Because Vegeta must’ve known what this would feel like, and like usual, he wanted to blow his Goku's mind when Goku least expected it. Like right now.
The hot sting of arousal and fire and burning pulsed out from that spot as Vegeta kept licking, kept circling, kept stroking his sweaty back with gloved fingertips. Goku shut his eyes tight as the pleasure built and built, his voice raw from all the noises he was making, but he couldn’t stop. All he could think about was Vegeta. All he could smell was Vegeta. His very cock bobbed and leaked and twitched, the tip of it hitting his stomach—and he nearly screamed when that familiar warmth wrapped around his cock and his balls at the same time, binding them in place, removing any possibility that he would come sooner rather than later.
Goku rubbed his cheek against the dirt, soil and grass tickling one of his nostrils, tears and snot and drool leaking all over his flushed face, and the pain burned, the pleasure burned, and Vegeta was just taking his goddamn time—
“P-Please,” he whimpered. The corner of his mouth moved against the dirt as he groaned, “Please make me come.”
That damned sinister chuckle, right against the nub.
Goku trembled all over at the vibrations. Sweat stung the sides of his tightly shut eyelids.
One last lick to his tail scar, and he felt Vegeta move away. No more hands on his back. No more body heat.
A rustling sound. Footsteps crunching on crisp grass.
Vegeta’s ki circled around him, matching the steps his boots made, one after another.
His body shivered from everything he sensed around him: the warm ki binding his cock and balls together, the thrumming ki around his ankles and wrists, the cool dirt particles that floated into his mouth on every inhale, the desperate heated gasps he released on every exhale, and those eyes, measuring him, surveying him like a piece of meat to plunder and enjoy, if he wanted to. Whenever Vegeta wanted to. Because Vegeta was in control. Because Vegeta knew Goku’s wants and needs, his desires and fantasies. Because Vegeta made Goku finally beg, and he knew what that meant to Vegeta, what that meant for himself.
The crunch-crunch of boots coming closer.
Gold tips appeared in his purview.
One of those tips touched underneath Goku’s chin, forcing his head to tilt up.
Vegeta smirked down at him, still fully clothed all over, except for his crotch. His cock and balls were exposed, up and over the tight blue spandex he wore. One ungloved hand stroked himself from base to tip, while the other perched on the curve of his own hip.
“My, my.” Another dark, sinister chuckle. “What a pretty sight you make.”
Goku moaned in response.
The corners of his vision narrowed down, blurring out. Only Vegeta was clear and sharp before him. Only him, his cock, his smirk, his body, his smell, his touch. The pain of the boot’s tip, the awkward angle his neck was in, the burn and the need and the desperation to come, to be fucked, to be used by Vegeta—none of it mattered compared to obeying Vegeta. Giving Vegeta whatever he wanted. Because he was the one in control now. He was the one with the power and the strength and the decisions to make, not himself. Just like Vegeta knew he wanted.
His lips formed Vegeta’s name. No sound accompanied it but a pithy cry.
Vegeta tilted his head to the side. “What was that? Speak up if you want me to pay attention.”
He tried again, his teeth chattering, his body aching everywhere, and a drunk slur of words tumbled out of him: “Vegetahplease.”
“Oh, you must want to come really bad.”
The hand on Vegeta’s hip lifted, and Goku gasped in surprise as he found himself being lifted as well. The ki cuffs no longer wrapped around his wrists and ankles, but everywhere. Every piece of his body—every curvature of his shoulders, elbows, hips and knees—was hugged, enveloped, almost consumed by the ever growing, consistently pulsing ki. It slithered across his torso, his belly, each of his legs, his biceps, his neck, the inside of his thighs, the meaty part of his calves, his entire back, and another gasp ripped out of him as that ki yanked his arms behind his back, one forearm over the other. It kept going, criss-crossing, creating tiny knots and large knots, small holes and big holes, as if knitting an intricate web all over his body, a net he couldn’t escape from, and his breathing picked up, his eyes widened, his chest heaved with effort as he was forced to his feet, standing—floating really, in front of Vegeta, like this. Restrained by this ki rope. Exposed in front of him like this.
His body flushed all over. His face burned. Everything burned. Shame washed over him like a cold wave, embarrassment tickling his heated skin, and he drifted his attention down and away from Vegeta’s look, from his all-encompassing stare.
An ungloved hand snatched his chin and yanked it back up.
Vegeta was right there. Right in front of him. Right against him.
That snarl. “Look at me, Kakarot.”
The fingers around his chin dug in, pushing against bone, and Goku winced at the sharp pain, exhaling out a weak, breathy “sorry.”
“Tch.” Relief at the sensation of Vegeta’s hand releasing his chin—
SLAP
His right cheek burned.
SLAP
Then the left.
Goku cried out in pain, a cry that was silenced easily when Vegeta’s mouth crushed against his, Vegeta’s tongue immediately slipping inside.
His senses dulled to the immediate only, his brain on overdrive like his body. Vegeta’s mouth on his own. Vegeta’s tongue sucking on his. Vegeta’s hands gliding over his skin, over the ki ropes that entangled him, fingertips skipping over his sensitive nipples, and Goku bucked into that gentle touch, moaning loud when that gentle touched turned rough, fingertips now pinching and pulling at his nipples.
The ki ropes pulsed all over. Vegeta’s mouth silenced every whimper, every cry, every moan Goku made. The air moved around him, his toes brushed against the tips of grass, Vegeta let go of his mouth to bite and suckle and lick his earlobe, another erogenous zone Goku had no idea was so sensitive, and then the bark of a nearby tree scratched his bare back and still reddened, sensitive ass from Vegeta’s spanking before.
He floated above the ground, out of his own body, his own mind too. The sensation of Vegeta’s tongue, his hands, his body heat—the smooth, cold armor rubbing against hot torso, the rough bark scratching up his whole back and red ass—and Goku cried out on top of his lungs, a wordless cry, out to the sky above, a cry mixed with a sob of pleasure, as he finally succumbed to his darkest desires, finally releasing all the tension in his body.
Vegeta’s chuckle sounded like a deep, rumbling purr. So did his long, drawn out, “Yessss.”
Teeth sunk into the side of his neck—right over the mate mark— and Goku became slack in the ki ropes, in Vegeta’s grasp, in Vegeta’s control.
Against his neck, Vegeta growled. Small nips against the skin. Little bites. A wet tongue licking each bite in his wake. Delicious pain mixed well with delicious pleasure, and Goku didn’t buck at him, didn’t jerk away, because he wanted this, he truly needed this, and Vegeta knew he wanted and needed it too.
To be exposed. To be made weak.
To feel powerless.
Powerless against Vegeta. Absolutely powerless. Something he craved deep down. Something he didn’t know at all he harbored deep inside. Something Vegeta unearthed out of him. Something only Vegeta could give him. The pleasure he found when being controlled like this—when Vegeta treated him like this, made him feel this way, using him like a piece of flesh to fuck and forget—scared Goku at first. Downright terrified him, because it shouldn’t have been pleasurable. It shouldn’t have felt so good to feel that way. He wanted kisses and cuddles and soft whispers of love. Not… this.
But Vegeta showed him it was okay. Over and over again, Vegeta allowed him to indulge in the darkness of his own self, and know it was okay. According to Vegeta, it was more than okay, it was heavily, and enthusiastically, encouraged. Something that Goku was shocked by. But Vegeta reassured him. He didn’t make fun of him. Didn’t belittle him. Didn’t mock him or tell him he was dirty or depraved or anything like that. He nurtured his dark desires. Coaxed them out into the light. Helped Goku realize that he wasn’t going to judge him, not when Vegeta apparently liked those desires too, and most importantly, wanted to make those desires a reality.
So he listened. He trusted. Goku succumbed to his need to submit, to feel powerless, to be used and owned and fucked, and he loved it. He craved it. The only person who could give Goku this. The only person Goku would ever allow to do this to him.
His reddened, wet lips curled into a smile.
My mate. My Vegeta.
He rumbled aloud in an almost-purr: “Vegetaaaaahhhh…”
Against the hollow of his neck, he heard the returning call of a perfect Saiyan growl.
The ki around his arms unraveled for a moment, enough time for Vegeta to yank them up over Goku’s head. They returned a second later, twisting and winding and criss-crossing yet again, and Goku grinned despite the burn of a blush heating his cheeks, because he liked having them back around him, how he missed the warm, pulsing ki on his forearms and wrists and knuckles. It made him feel safe in a way, like there were hundreds of Vegeta’s arms holding him everywhere.
Lips shoved against his for a brief moment. They jerked away and Goku hissed in pain-pleasure when strong fingers dug into his hair, pulling it hard, yanking his head to the right. That tongue returned, licking the side of his jawline and the sweat gathered there, and the hand yanked his head to the left so Vegeta could lick the sweat there too.
That hand yanked his head back to normal—
SLAP
Goku hissed-moaned at the same time as his right cheek pulsed and burned.
SLAP
He full-on moaned as his left cheek burned.
SLAP
A cry of pleasure-pain ripped from him as the burn from Vegeta’s strong, firm hand, smacking across his chest.
SLAP
“AH!” Over his left nipple—the sharp sting—
SLAP
“AGH!” The right nipple—
SLAP-SLAP
And his still bound cock and balls.
Goku threw his head back and screamed.
In his blurry vision, he saw his ki bound arms and wrists attached to a tree branch, the blue sky above and its cloud peaking here and there through the thicket of the trees and its leaves.
Tears stung his eyes, blurring what he saw above, leaving him only with pain. Pulsing, throbbing, aching pain, everywhere. His face. His groin. His chest. Sharp, stinging, burning pain that never seemed to end.
Then, lips pressed against his neck. On the other side of his neck.
Gentle kisses. Sweet, gentle kisses.
Nose against skin. Vegeta’s nose nuzzled his skin.
Fingertips skirted over the top of his hips. Tickled down the V of his belly, and up again. Soothing strokes that matched the soothing kisses planted to his neck.
Against the base of his neck, Vegeta’s whisper was as loud as a shout.
“Beautiful,” he said.
Goku heard his own labored breathing tremble with each exhale.
More sweet, little kisses, peppered across his collarbones now. Sweetness that blended well with the pain pulsing throughout his body. They trailed down his sternum and veered left for the nipple there, suckling on it instantly. Little circles, little licks, like he did earlier to his tail spot, and Vegeta repeated his ministrations on the other nipple, lavishing it with the same rapt attention as the other. He arched his chest into Vegeta’s mouth, his trapped cock twitching in its ki binds, his arms tightening up in the ki that throbbed around his biceps, his forearms, under his pits—a heat and a sensation that only heightened his senses, sending Goku further down into the abyss of dark pleasure.
That tongue, those fingers, Vegeta’s nose—he felt it all. That sharp-tipped nose skipped down, down his belly. Those fingertips traced his obliques, the rise of each hip, his belly button, the inside of his thighs. That tongue licked a wet trail all the way to his groin, right to his ki-bound cock, but that mouth bypassed his cock all together. He felt his legs lifted by strong hands, exposing his asshole and balls to Vegeta’s scrutinizing gaze, and he felt more ki slither and slide around his ankles, his feet, each of his toes even, and they entered in the purview of his vision, ankles attaching to his shoulders, bending his pliant body almost in half.
His breath picked up. His face—his whole body really—felt like an inferno. Fingers slid down, down—over the tail nub and Goku cried out—over his hole and Goku whimpered—and then those warm, strong palms rested over each globe of his ass and squeezed, bruising him. Pain shot up his spine, across his hips and Goku felt his lips curl upwards even as he shouted and whined, swinging a little from the strong, sturdy branch, until Vegeta redoubled his efforts and stilled his body completely.
Lips, down there. Mouthing his balls, one after the other. The underside of his bound cock. Goku’s head flopped back and to the side, drool seeping from the side of his mouth, as Vegeta licked, sucked, pressed, teased, tongued the area Vegeta knew full well Goku enjoyed the most: right under his balls, right against the perineum, right where the prostate would be inside. Pleasure shot up from his ass, along with the pain from Vegeta’s hands digging in hard. It built, and built, rising with every lick, every press to that area, every bruise that Vegeta’s fingers created, and his cock leaked copious amounts of cum onto his belly, twitched and leaked and hurt with every pulse, every squeeze.
He didn’t recognize his own voice when he moaned, “V-Vegetaaahhhh…”
One of those hands released their painful grip on his ass. He sighed a little in relief, then groaned out of sadness when the heat against his crotch left him.
Then, one finger, right there, against his hole. Pressing gently. Easing in a tip. Circling around and around the hole, dipping in here and there, and Goku realized it was a rhythm. A teasing, gentle rhythm of that fingertip.
Vegeta was finger fucking him while he hung from this tree branch, tied up in ki all over.
“Mm… you dried up pretty quick.” That chuckle from below, he heard it, felt it against his exposed nether regions. A sound of shifting clothes. A bottle clicking open. “Lucky for you, I came prepared.”
A warm, lubed finger easily entered him, all the way up to the last knuckle of Vegeta’s hand, and Goku moaned in happiness, in relief, at something finally pushing inside him.
That finger fucked him slow, very slow. Too slow for Goku’s liking, but he knew not to complain. He knew it would get better, that Vegeta would give Goku what he needed, so he stayed pliant, stayed relaxed and slumped in the ki rope that surrounded him, cocooned him, kept him warm and nice and good with its heat and its gentle pulsing.
Two fingers soon entered him with more warm lube. He moaned, panted, gasped when Vegeta touched his prostate inside, but he forced himself to stay still. To take what Vegeta was giving him. The fingers slowly fucked him, spread him open, scissored him and spread the warm lube around, just the way Goku liked it. The way Vegeta liked it. More lube came in, coating the insides of his hole, tips brushing against his prostate here and there, little teased that only served to weaken Goku’s resolve to stay pliant, but it got harder the longer Vegeta took his time finger fucking him. His cock burned. He could smell and feel his own precum pooling on his belly. Every rub to his prostate, either accidental or purposeful, pushed even more precum out of him, sent heat and pleasure and need up his spine, throughout his body, until Goku felt pain again, because he needed to come, he needed Vegeta, he needed Vegeta inside him now—
Goku bucked back against Vegeta’s fingers hard, making him push against his prostate. “Vegetaaaaahhh…” He swung in his ki ropes, fucking himself on those fingers. “N-Need... please…”
He gasped when Vegeta’s free hand left his ass to grip one of his hips again—and a soft sob choked out of him when those knowing fingers curved up and pushed against his prostate. Right against it.
“You can wait a bit longer,” Vegeta said from below. “Let me enjoy this ass of yours.”
All thoughts and words ceased in Goku’s mind when Vegeta emphasized his statement with another rub to his prostate—a long, deep, sensual rub that made Goku shake uncontrollably and his cock to leak even more precum.
And Vegeta didn’t stop. He kept rubbing. Kept pushing. Kept circling and pushing and rubbing and Goku suddenly felt like he was going to pee but he didn’t need to, he wasn’t going to—it didn’t feel like that, it was different, it was more—
His orgasm hit him out of nowhere.
His teeth chattered. His body convulsed. His eyes were open, but he saw nothing, registered nothing but the sensations he felt, coming from his ass, from Vegeta’s fingers.
So different than before. So new. A different, new, amazing kind of orgasm, right from his ass. The vibrations of that orgasm broke down every piece of his body, every sense of reality around Goku. Out of his cock came a dribble of cum, a dribble that kept coming, and coming, despite the ki binds around his cock and balls. Little, pained cries from the depths of himself leaked out like the tears from his eyes, but it wasn’t painful, nothing was painful, it was perfect, euphoric, freeing—
“Look at you—your cock is dripping, Kakarot.” Vegeta’s voice. “You like this. You need this.” It hypnotized him. “My fingers inside you, rubbing against a spot only I have touched.” Pulled him out of reality. “My fingers fucking an ass only I have fucked.” Into a realm of nothingness. “Because you are mine.” A realm of pure euphoria. “Your body, your orgasms, everything belongs to me and me alone.”
Fingers slipped out.
Vegeta appeared between his legs, looming down at him. Taking up his whole vision.
“And you know that.” That smirk. “Don’t you, Kakarot?” Fingertips brushed his cheek. “You know it, and you need it.”
Words blubbered out of him in a gigantic rush. “I do I do oh gods I do.” Desperate and slurred and nearly nonsensical. “I need it I want it I like it I do I like it.” Like looking from the outside in, but it all sounded right, it sounded exactly right. “Use me take me fuck me I’m yours Vegeta I’m yours— ”
Pressure against his asshole.
Goku gasped loud as Vegeta slid into him in one, solid thrust, never breaking eye contact.
Hands steadied his hips. Vegeta leaned in closer.
Their noses brushed as Vegeta whispered, “You are.” His smirk lightened into a smile Goku rarely saw—a sweet, small smile that Vegeta gave to him alone. “Just as I am yours too.”
And then Vegeta rutted.
The sound of pounding flesh. Balls slapping his. Nails in skin. Sweat. Tears. Aching hips. The ki rope cradling and hugging and cupping his legs, his torso, his arms, his waist, while Vegeta used him like he needed, like he wanted, holding his hips in a bruising grip that rooted Goku to some semblance of reality.
His own voice sounded muffled to himself. “Ahhh! Fuuuck!” Underwater almost, despite the powerful, guttural screams he released, scratching his throat raw. “Oh gods, oh fuck! OH FUCK! Vegetaaaaahhh!! Vegetaaaaaahhh!!”
The ki binds disappeared from his cock, fingers snatched up his cock and stroked once, twice, and Goku shuddered as another orgasm hit him, just as powerful as the last. Cum shot up his chest, heat spread up from his groin, down to his legs, and it was perfect, needed release.
But the hand didn’t stop moving.
Vegeta didn’t stop fucking him.
The orgasm was gone, his cock was spent, and only pain remained, the flesh too sensitive, too raw, and Goku blubbered out nonsensical words, unintelligible sounds that sounded pleading, negative, desperate—
Vegeta’s voice roared, “You keep coming, you hear me?” That hand kept milking his cock, thumbing the tip, twisting here and there. “You don’t stop. You come until I tell you to stop.”
He blinked a few times, until Vegeta’s face came into view. Goku winced at every stroke, every thrust into him, and he heard himself say, “W-Want. C-Can’t.”
“Yes you can. You know you can.”
Lips on his. Tongue against his. Cock thrusting in his ass.
Vegeta’s mouth pulling away. The hand on his hip released to tilt his ass up even more. Driving Vegeta even deeper.
“You can’t hide from me.” Vegeta’s black, predator eyes captivated him. “I can feel you inside, how swollen that nub is every time I hit it—” Thrust after thrust, hitting that spot, shooting fire everywhere. “—how desperate your ass is. It’s milking my cock, trying to suck me in—” That smirk. “As if I’m crazy enough to leave your delicious, wet heat. But I’m not leaving.” Pain, pleasure, his cock hardening again. “I’m not stopping. I’m going to fuck you hard until you’re crying more than you already are. I’m going to fuck you and cum in you again and again because you won’t do shit about it.”
Pleasure building. Pleasure everywhere.
Every orifice. Every piece of himself.
“Because only I know what you desire,” Vegeta said. “Only I know what you need.”
All of his senses dulled to nothing. Barely registered anything but this.
Vegeta. Inside him, above him, around him, everywhere, swallowing everything around that existed, until Goku couldn’t feel, couldn't breathe, couldn't move, couldn’t look away—didn’t want to look away, didn’t want to try and hide when Vegeta spoke the truth aloud, right in front of him:
“You need to be under my body, kneeling at my feet, begging for my cock, pleading for a fuck, tied and used and destroyed from the inside out.”
One powerful thrust. One long, painful-pleasure stroke to his cock.
Vegeta sneered, “Just like the slut you wish you could be.”
Goku lost all his senses when he came again.
He didn’t ride the waves of his orgasm—he floated above it, like the current couldn’t touch him, because he was beyond that, so far beyond that. He floated in the blissful nothingness, surrounded in warmth like the ki ropes that cocooned him this whole time, like there was a Vegeta spooning him around every piece of his body.
The pain from his throat, from his crotch, from his ass—the tears and the snot and the drool—the burn and the fire and the pleasure—it was all meaningless. Nothing hurt him here. Nothing registered here. He saw nothing and that was okay. He heard nothing and that was okay. Because he could feel everything, the warmth, the comfort and safety, the sheer bliss that engulfed him completely, and he never wanted to leave. He never wanted to go.
This warmth, this pure euphoria, lasted for a long time. Vaguely, Goku registered movement, voices, touches, but it was so weak compared to where he was now. He floated on, carefree, at peace, letting the current do its thing and keep him together, keep him safe.
When he opened his eyes again, Goku found a blue wall in front of him and white flannel sheet under him. Warmth still surrounded him, but much softer and smoother than the ki rope, and he registered them as blankets and pillows.
He slowly blinked once, twice.
No more trees. No more binds.
Home. He was home.
The edges of the world Goku inhabited prior still lingered, a fuzzy, warm feeling on the edges of his mind. It didn’t bug or irritate him or scare him. It only added to the feelings of total comfort and safety he felt before.
Pressure around his torso. Hot, tempered breathing against his neck.
Naked, warm skin against his back. A sculpted leg wedged between both of his.
Vegeta’s scent hit his nostrils, and Goku smiled, his heavy eyelids shutting again.
Lips kissed his neck. Tiny, gentle pecks that almost tickled. Those lips created a trail of sweet kisses, up to his jawline, right to his ear.
“Thank you, my sweet Kakarot.” Vegeta’s arm hugged his torso, a hand resting over his left pec, right where his heart was. “Thank you for trusting me. Thank you for sharing your desires with me. Thank you for letting me love you this way.” That arm hugged him even closer. His voice dipped lower. “I love that you trust me to do these things to you. I love seeing what I do to you. I love how you looked in those ki ropes, I love how you looked when I made you come—fuck, Kakarot, you are beautiful.”
A soft, sweet kiss, right to his cheekbone.
The kiss lingered for a while and made a soft smack when Vegeta pulled away.
Goku felt his smile widen when Vegeta whispered, “You are beautiful, and perfect, and mine. My Kakarot. My mate.” Another kiss, right to the side of his neck—over the mate mark. Vegeta nuzzled it with his nose as he whispered, “And I am yours. Yours forever.”
He whispered Vegeta’s name in return, one he wasn’t sure Vegeta heard, until he felt Vegeta’s arm squeeze his torso tight and kiss his mate mark again. Goku sighed, succumbing to the darkness behind his lids, safe and warm and loved, in Vegeta’s arms.