Fandom: DBZ/ Dragon Ball
Characters: Vegeta/Goku(Kakarot), King Vegeta, Bardock
Word Count: 996
Warnings: Pining, Possessive behavior
Summary: "Not everything is about control, Kid."
Kakavege week, Feb 1st: Stop staring 見つめていし
Notes: Remember when I said "unofficial lover"? I meant that in more ways than one.
"Are you ever going to let me out of your sight?" asks Kakarot, staring up at the vaulted ceiling from his place, splayed out decadently on Vegeta's rumpled bed. His voice is light, expression dozing, but Vegeta has learned not to take Kakarot's careless exterior at face value.
He tugs on his gloves, snapping the leather into place, "When you cease being an unredeemable idiot." Vegeta pulls on his cape with a flourish, snapping it into place brusquely.
Kakarot makes an amused sound, rolling to his side and propping up his head on his arm. His tail sways lazily in the air, his mouth curving into a sly smile. "So by your standards, never?"
Vegeta growls.
"Your father wants to see you." He says, instead. He's finished dressing, but he finds himself lingering. The sun has long since risen, and there's no reason for him to stay any longer, but Vegeta cannot will his legs to move away. He watches Kakarot shift amongst the sheets, rubbing his cheek against Vegeta's pillow, his skin smooth and marked with teeth and finger-shaped bruises. "He sounds impatient."
Kakarot laughs, "Well, I'm sure he is. You've been keeping me hostage for a week. I haven't even had the chance to be debriefed." He pauses, a wry grin crinkling the corners of his eyes. "Well, in a manner of speaking."
"Tsk. I expect you back before the day's end." Vegeta says, the words curdling in his mouth. The last thing he sees before he sweeps out of his chambers is Kakarot's sloppy, casual salute and a flash of naked thighs where the ruined sheets hike up.
He's distracted.
He's been distracted for the past decade, though he loathes to admit it. His father has no such problems.
The King sighs, the gold on his breast rings dully with the movement. "If I'd known you'd still be so preoccupied with the return of Bardock's spawn, I would have rathered he stay lost than deal with your renewed obsession."
Vegeta clenches his fists, unseen underneath the table, face stony. "You'd be fine with losing an exceptional soldier?"
The King waves his hand, frowning. "We lose soldiers all the time, that is the way of a warrior race. One soldier, no matter how strong, is no great loss. You'd do well to remember that, Vegeta."
Vegeta stays silent, staring coldly at the table top, his fists numb and cold in his lap.
"Why did you leave?" He asks, murmuring the question into Kakarot's warm shoulder. Kakarot's skin tastes like salt and something sweet, so Vegeta presses his mouth to the vulnerable curve of his throat and scrapes his teeth there.
Kakarot stirs sleepily, braiding their legs together and slipping his hand over Vegeta's where it rests possessively above his stomach. "I was curious."
Vegeta's hand twitches beneath Kakarot's, his arm tensing for a moment. He stares at the shapeless darkness in the room, Kakarot's scent heavy and warm and content in the confines of the bed. It's an unpleasant contrast with the ice building around his ribcage. His hands, bare and strange without his glove, tighten around Kakarot's waist, short nails digging into tender skin.
"Not everything is about control, kid," Bardock tells him. He doesn't have clearance to this part of the shipyard, but here he stands none the less, leaning carelessly on top of a console, smoking idly and watching the coming and going of shuttles. "But I suppose that's not something a Vegeta heir would understand very well."
Bardock breathes around a cloud of smoke and ash, his hands steady around his cigarette. Vegeta hates how alien his face is, how hard and angular, with its scars and unsmiling mouth. Vegeta shoots him a disgusted look. "I wouldn't presume to know anything about the Vegeta line if I were you. Otherwise, you might find yourself missing a tongue."
Bardock barks a mean laugh, "I'm going to presume that you'd never threaten Kakarot's tongue." He snubs out his cigarette on the console, burning a black mark into the screen.
"It would be faster to kill you than court marshal you, Commander," Vegeta says, voice dangerously low as he stalks closer along the gangway. "I won't tolerate disrespect, even from you."
More amused than cowed, Bardock shrugs, crossing his arms across his broad chest. "Is Kakarot the exception to that too?"
Vegeta finds Kakarot again underneath the atrophic oasis that once made up the Tuffle's birth cradle. The ancient, crystalized cadavers of giant, hollowed trees stood like great pillars, surrounding the deep, cool, aqueduct.
"A strange place to train." He says, feigning casualness. His heart beats hard under his armor, a drumbeat against the royal crest.
"This place is so blue," Kakarot whispers, awed and wistful. He dips his fingers into the cool waters, then begins to strip off his uniform. "I saw so much blue while I was away, I'd forgotten something like that could exist here."
Vegeta seethes. He wants to say: "How could you leave?"
He wants to say: "Why didn't you tell me you were going?"
He wants to say: "I won't let you go."
He fires a blast, energy boiling away at the water where it skims across the surface, shattering the fossilized trees.
Kakarot pauses, still in his pants and boots, casting a wary look at the smoldering groove marring such an ancient, untouched place. "That's not very nice, Vegeta." He says, giving Vegeta a flat, unimpressed look.
"I'm not a very nice saiyan." Vegeta sneers, prowling close until they stood nose to nose, stance wide and aggressive. His fur is bristling, tail whipping and lashing in the air. Pins burrow beneath Vegeta's fingertips, working underneath skin and muscle to the very marrow of him, the urge to fight and conquer and keep burns in his blood.
Kakarot blinks, his head tilting to the side and looks, truly looks at Vegeta. At length, he nods. A smirk carves his lush mouth into something sharp. "No, you're not."
