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Midnight Madness By chibi_vegeta PWP, Lemon, A/U Vg/Gk Disclaimer: oh please... The sounds grew louder as they made their way to the crumbling alehouse that huddled among other businesses of questionable repute. The clank of armor and steel was covered by both music and the sound of coarse laughter. There was a thumping of drums and heavy sticks accompanied by oddly muted horns that wound their way between the steady rhythms. The illumination spilling from the half-opened doorway seemed equally muted. Where the sounds slinked and coiled around rhythmic pillars, the light seemed choked somehow, stagnant. Perhaps weighed down with the dubious odors of unwashed bodies and greasy food, all wafted along on tendrils of smoke. Vegeta no Ouji's nose crinkled as he pushed his way past the heavy forms lounging around the doorway, his men kicking them away and taking up station there themselves. He smirked to himself as he was recognized too late, the place falling silent as he strode to the canted bar and flipped the tail of his cape over one shoulder. The keeper eventually made his way near to fidget nervously as he waited for the prince to speak. "Nocturne…" Sharp black eyes seemed to pin the keeper in place, though it couldn't keep the commoner's own eyes from sliding away in avoidance. "I…I…Your Highness…" The keeper's sweat freshened across his skin as he babbled. "It…it's contraband…I have n-none!" "None?" The single word was whispered, yet carried an edge of threat that grew sharper as Vegeta-sei's crown prince continued. "From what I understand, you just obtained a fresh shipment." Sardonic lips twisted into a smirk. "Or are you going to call me a liar?" "Uh, no! N-no Highness…" The dirty spikes of hair that were tied back at the nape of the saiya-jin's neck bristled as he waved his hands in desperate denial. "It…It's just that what came in is reserved…" He blanched as the ouji leaned across the bar. "Are you telling me, then, that you have a more important patron than myself?" The keeper's jaw worked for a moment as his brain chased itself in a few circles, then snapped shut as he realized he was fucked either way. The person the spice was destined for would have his head, but then, so would Prince Vegeta, so he might as well put off impending death as long as possible. Without another word he stepped behind the leather curtain in the corner and returned a moment later with a small box. Placing a heavy glass on the bar, he settled a metal grid across the top, and opened the worn wooden box. With small tongs, he picked through the chunks of outlawed 'spice', finally choosing one he thought would prove satisfactory. As he turned the tongs in the low light of the bar, the stony-looking lump gleamed with each flicker of flame. Settling the spice on the grid, the keeper's eyes darted nervously at the expectant prince. Taking up a flask, he made to tip it over the glass, and then paused. "It's been strong this season…" He trailed off, slightly surprised when the response was a nod of recognition rather than the superior sneer the prince was known for. "Just pour." Vegeta's eyes locked onto the glass in anticipation. Now was the moment of truth; the value of the spice could be judged by a keen and experience eye. The keeper's hand shook as he tipped the flask and poured a black liqueur over the spice and into the glass. There was a soft hiss as the illegal substance liquefied and began to glow a pure, deep blue within the glass. Vegeta took a moment to appreciate the display of chemistry and nature, removing the grid and turning the glass in his hand to watch the firelight compete with the magical glow. Tilting the glass back, he downed it , letting the spiced liqueur slide down his throat in a warm radiance that coiled deep in his belly. As if the movement had tripped some wire, the alehouse once again became a center of raucous humor and braggadocio; its patrons relaxing as the ouji himself indulged. The prince turned and lounged against the bar, listening to the internal hum and buzz of the spice as it hit his bloodstream. The light within the bar seemed to catch and dazzle behind his eyes, and his limbs felt lazy and warm. He knew he was taking a chance. But he didn't care. He was the strongest warrior on Vegeta-sei. There was rumor that he was even stronger than the King himself. He'd see if the bait would be taken. Vegeta's lips quirked as he watched his men. Slouched in corners and at tables, groping the serving women and tipping back huge flagons of ale and grog, they gave every appearance of being drunk. But he knew his personal guard could handle a hell of a lot more than this. Growing impatient as time passed, the prince ordered another round from the keeper, growling a warning at him as he hesitated. A low voice cut through the room as Vegeta swallowed the shimmering concoction. "Giving away my personal stash, Grollo?" The keeper paled as a spiky-haired shadow detached itself from the gloom and made its way to the bar. Vegeta's eyes slid sideways and assessed the newcomer. "Your personal stash? You do know that Nocturne is outlawed on Vegeta-sei, don't you?" There was a flash of teeth and the flex of a powerful tail. "Oh I know what is and isn't legal, Highness." Vegeta's gaze narrowed as the long, lithe form leaned back against the bar, his eyes slanting in appreciation of the powerful chest and thighs clad in fighting gear. He smirked. "Then I suppose it is my duty as prince to arrest you and throw you into the dungeon for trafficking in such a substance." A lazy nod shifted the thick shock of hair, revealing warm dark eyes and a hint of amusement before shading them again. "You could try, Highness, but you may find it more difficult than expected." Without warning, the prince launched himself at the younger saiya-jin, and all hell broke loose as both patrons and guardsmen flew at one another with drunken shouts of both pain and joy. Tables were overturned, chairs broken over thick skulls, tails yanked and kegs broken open as bodies slammed around the room. The melee soon spilled out onto the street, where the more experienced fighters began to show their dominance. But the tide of victory washed back and forth, the cutthroats and grizzled veterans taking advantage of darkness and twisted streets. Eventually the fighting wore down into groups of two and three, and bellows of pain and shouts of challenge rang from the high rocky walls. "Oh god, Bejita…" The breathy moan of his formal name in that purring voice was nearly more than the prince could stand, and he pressed tighter to the saiya-jin he had pinned against the side of a building. He ran his tongue along the sweaty throat and purred roughly at the other's taste, arching as firm hands squeezed and kneaded his ass. "Kakarrrrrot…" Vegeta pulled impatiently at the armor between himself and the dusky skin he knew lay beneath. "I've waited long enough…" The younger saiya-jin moaned and arched his hips as he felt his armor fall away and warm, strong fingers tear through the remainder of his shirt. He gasped in appreciation as a hot and agile tongue traced the contours of his chest and stomach. A strangled gasp escaped as his pants were yanked down roughly and the torture trailed lower. He clutched desperately at upswept spikes of hair, whimpering as heat and slickness surrounded his aching cock. He knew Vegeta loved to drive him crazy with need before finally satisfying the fire that only he knew how to draw from the younger warrior, and Kakarrot's head tossed as the prince swallowed him whole, sending stars flashing across his vision. "Bejitahh…" He gasped and shuddered, feeling any semblance of control slipping away as Vegeta slurped and sucked at him, the tip of the prince's tongue dancing up and down the swollen shaft he drew back and forth between his lips. Just as he felt himself nearing the breaking point, Vegeta drew back with a satisfied lick to his lips. The clash of weapons and fists still sounded around them, but were somehow muffled by panting breaths and ragged moans. The prince drew his prize down, and tumbled him back against soft fabric. Kakarrot barely stifled a moan as his knees were pressed apart, his mind barely recognizing the softness beneath him as being Vegeta's cape. Soft spikes of the prince's hair tickled at his thighs, and Vegeta took his torture a little further, teasing the soft skin of the other saiya-jin's heavy sac with gentle nips and rough suckles. And, dipping his tongue lower, began to wet his lover's most sensitive flesh. "Gh-God! Bejiiiiita!" Kakarrot mewled and arched, pleasantly surprised at Vegeta's passion. It had been months since it had been safe enough for them to see one another, and Kakarrot's need matched that of his prince. With a soft growl he drew the smaller form up along his own, wrapping his legs around the prince's hips and grinding up against him insistently. A hot mouth covered his own, and he let forth the deep moan that had been building; consumed greedily by his imperial lover. He panted and gasped as the possessive kiss broke, his voice cracking as he whispered. "Madness… Bejita, this is insanity …" But still he clutched at the slender form, shivering at the low growl that sounded in his ear. "Yes, Kakarrot, I'm insane, mad for you…" Without warning, Vegeta plunged into the searing sheathe of his lover's body, thrusting his tongue into Kakarrot's mouth just in time to stifle the scream of pleasure. Other screams and shouts sounded all around them, but there would have been no mistaking this sound. The prince shuddered and drew back as far as he could before driving deeper into the welcoming heat. They writhed in abandon, hidden by darkness and the fight still clamoring around them. To Kakarrot it sounded like the most beautiful of music to accompany the pleasure given and taken between them. He couldn't stop the cry that tore from his throat as Vegeta's tail coiled around the length of his cock and began to ripple up and down. The prince's hands wrapped under and around his shoulders as he was held and taken. Soft cries and shuddering breaths came faster as they strained against one another, Kakarrot's fingers leaving welts on the royal back as his tail bristled and twined with Vegeta's. The frission of pleasure at the intimate contact was more than either could bear, and lips locked together to swallow mutual howls of delight. They lay tangled for long moments, purring and stroking as lovers do, before reluctantly parting. Kakarrot eyed the shredded remains of his shirt and slanted a look at his mate. Vegeta grinned lustfully at him, tail flicking as he assessed his lover's body through the tatters. "Looks good to me, Kakarrot." He slid a hand around the back of Kakarrot's neck and drew him down into a deep kiss, purring as his mate's mouth opened in welcome. A very unwelcome shout broke them apart, the owner of the voice coming closer as he sought out the prince. "Highness? Where are you, Prince Vegeta? Are you all right??" "Mmmm, time to go, koi…" The prince purred as fine muscle shifted under his hands. "When my father finally catches that smuggler father of yours, I'm going to make you my personal concubine." Kakarrot chuckled and groped his mate's tail. "You'd better make an honest saiya-jin of me, Bejitahh…" He nuzzled and drew in the scent of his Vegeta's hair. "Or you might find me more of a handful then than I am now." He grinned at the implied threat, and the snort of derision in response to it. He suddenly found himself thrust away, and, with the flat of the prince's sword slapping his ass, darted away into the darkness. "COWARD! Next time I will catch you!" Vegeta howled after him, smirking to himself at the thought of all the places he'd like to catch Kakarrot. Carefully schooling his expression into one of disgust, he then turned to rejoin his unsuspecting and battered guardsmen. He felt a brief stab of guilt at using them in such a manner, and then laughed at himself. It was good training all around. Whistling, he strode off down the narrow street, tail swinging with satisfaction. Back to Guest Fiction Main Page |