#Goku probably wouldn’t care though if anything he might appreciate a little more evidence that his species isn’t like. born evil

[blueper-saiyan]

I have a firm heartfelt belief that neither Goku nor Vegeta is at all normal for a Saiyan but some of the ways that they’re weird overlap perfectly, so they’re both convinced that they’re normal and that’s just what Saiyans are like

[mz-hide]

Trick of Might - Chapter 8

Aka: a Dragon Ball Z slash fic.

Chapter 8

Turles' infamous fuck-cave is revealed & the smutfest begins!

Summary: An ancient enemy makes a sudden comeback into Goku’s life. Long-suppressed memories surface again and it’s no longer possible for the young saiyan to ignore them. Warnings: Dubious Consent, (because of drug use) Ships & Pairings: Bulma/Vegeta, Goku/Vegeta, Goku/Turles, Goku/Turles/Vegeta, Turles/Vegeta, Raditz/Turles, Nappa/Turles, Nappa/Raditz/Turles Contains: Threesome - M/M/M, Group Sex, Polyamory, Aphrodisiacs, Secret Crush, Confessions, Enemies to Lovers, Love Triangles, Oral Sex, Blow Jobs, Anal Sex, Gay Sex, Biting, Scratching, Boners All Around, Feral Behavior, (just a tiny bit), Resolved Sexual Tension, Sexual Content

You can find the rest on my AO3 page (username: originalmonkeyhydes)

The renegade’s eyes were on him all the way to the tree. The Prince couldn’t tell if it was in watchful circumspection or in indiscreet appreciation. Turles hadn’t bothered putting clothes back on, so he hadn’t either. Vegeta wasn’t about to appear intimidated or sheepish in front of the man who’d allowed him to take advantage of his mouth just a few minutes before. The renegade evidently didn’t feel the least bit subdued by what had just happened either. If anything, he appeared even more smug than before, if possible. “My Ambrosia has a good smell on you, Vegeta”, he observed, bending slightly to get a whiff, appreciatively. “I’ve been wondering how you’d smell like, if I’d covered you in it…”  “Save your dirty thoughts for yourself”, the Prince rebuked with the slightest hint of amusement. “I bet you’d fuck just about anything as long as your precious drug is involved.” “You give my Ambrosia too much credit. It’s not nearly strong enough to make a saiyan loose his mind completely. It numbs inhibition, sure, but it frees the will.” “Right. It would be foolish of me to imply you wouldn’t fuck anything of your own volition.” “You wound me, Prince”, the renegade retorted, evidently picking the sardonic tone back up. “And here I thought we were going to come together…” Vegeta scoffed, choosing to ignore the joke. “Less talking, more walking.” “Impatient to see him, aren’t you?” “Careful, Turles. Now that you don’t have your lips around my cock I don’t have any reason to refrain myself from blasting you into space.” “I will have to offer you my mouth again, then. For my wellbeing.” “Whatever problem you have in the head, it’s beyond help.” “If you think I could use a helping hand, by all means…” The Prince glared at him. Not that he hadn’t thought about reaching out for the warrior’s sex before, as he was servicing him, sadly. However, he muted that urge and kept the thought for himself. It was probably the Ambrosia talking. There was nothing the dark saiyan could say that was going to change his mind on the matter. They walked around the massive tree trunk and then flew up for the most part of its height, landing among the colossal branches. The bark was riddled with cavities. Turles led him to the biggest one, a cavernous hole mostly hidden by lush foliage. The renegade seemed significantly less blithe now. So this is where he’s been hiding Kakarot. A current blew through the entrance, carrying the pungent scent of Ambrosia with it. The intoxicating fragrance had gotten even stronger, somehow. Vegeta’s nostrils twitched but he took a breath of it anyway. There was no use resisting it now that the substance was already in his system. Turles shot him one last glance before stepping across and leading him in inside the cavern. As soon as he stepped in, Vegeta realized the cavity was larger then he’d originally expected. The trunk was hollow all the way to the top, where the tree’s foliage concealed the opening from above. Inside, the space was large, almost airy. It was somehow warmer, as if the pulsing energy of the planet the plant was feeding upon coursed through the trunk, heating up the space within. The air was heavy, saturated with a familiar, intoxicating, saccharine scent. Ambrosia dripped down the wooden walls to gather into the uneven ground. Thick, blossom-covered vines cascaded into the hollow trunk from above. The dim glow of the large, plump flowers illuminated the space eerily with their soft, rose light. Vegeta’s eyes immediately went to the figure lying at the centre of the space, where the streams of ambrosia were slowly pooling. Goku was lying there, completely naked, on what seemed to be a large nest of flowers and vines. It looked like it had been arranged for the occasion with intent. The large lush petals were brimming with nectar, crimson juices flowing seeping though where the warrior’s weight rested, wetting his golden skin. The young saiyan seemed to be drenched in Ambrosia. He appeared completely intoxicated by it, his sculpted muscles glistening with tiny, pink droplets. His limbs laid heavy, abandoned at his sides, motionless. The only element in dissonance with the abandon of his body, was the still flushed stiffness of his sex. A constellation of pearl colored droplets decorated his formidable, heaving chest, irrefutable proof that the warrior had spilled on himself. A picture of ravishing, tantalizing decadence. “Perfect, isn’t he?” Vegeta’s heart sunk at the sight, nearly shaking with aversion at the purring sound of the renegade’s voice. “What have you done to him?”, the Prince inquired, his eyes looking his rival’s body over in search for injuries and -to his unspoken relief- finding none. “Nothing… yet.” The dark saiyan walked him closer until the two of them stood at the edge of the flower nest, towering over Goku. Obsidian eyes twinkled with appreciation, his hand momentarily lingering around his groin. Vegeta could tell by the soft hitch of his breath he was making use of all his restraint not to jump the Earth warrior right there and then. Though, the love bites around Goku’s neck and groin suggested something had already been done. The Prince shuddered with indignation. “That doesn’t look like nothing to me.” “He had a little too much Ambrosia, I’m afraid. I had to lend a hand to him too.” “You sick bastard…” “Don’t be jealous, my Prince. I’ve merely savored him so far. I can assure you he’s worth the wait, every minute of it… But we’re had quite enough of that now, haven’t we?” Turles had dipped his head down to husk his words right into his ear, his tail slyly coiling around his thigh, thick fur tickling him in the best of ways. His tongue brazenly traced his earlobe. Vegeta shivered, but it was not from indignation this time. “What are you going to do?”. The Prince’s hushed breath turned into a grunt once the renegade’s hand cupped his groin. “What do you want to do?” Vegeta’s eyes darted towards the sleeping saiyan laying before him just in time to see his eyes flutter open. He stiffened, watching those rich, brown irises roll around and finally focus onto him. “Had sweet dreams while I was gone, Kakarot?”, the renegade greeted the clearly disoriented saiyan, “I brought I little surprise.” The youth didn’t seem to understand what he was seeing. He blinked like he was expecting to see the naked Prince flicker and fade like a vision. But, of course, he didn’t. He was there, in the flesh. “Vegeta…?” “Kakarot…” He squirmed weakly in Turles’ arms, feeling strangely uneasy in his nakedness as he stood before his rival. It was a reflex he soon regretted not resisting. “What a moving reunion…“, the dark saiyan chuckled, amused by the sudden tension between his captives. “Aren’t you happy to see Kakarot, Vegeta?” Vegeta’s body stiffened and bronze hands gripped his elbows, leaving his nakedness completely exposed for the younger warrior to see. Rich, dark eyes widened ever so slightly. It wasn’t as if Goku hadn’t seen the image of rival like that before, but he couldn’t help but marvel at the fact that he looked just as he had appeared to him on Namek. For the longest time after that, he’d assumed it to be a trick played on him by his mind. Now that theory was harder to believe. The warrior that stood in front of him in that moment, sculpted muscles and pale scarred skin, was the same that had appeared to him under his eyelids. A sweet suspicion dawned within him as realization sunk in. “How’s this for a surprise, Kakarot? Like what you see?” “Is this what it is all about, Turles?”, the Prince sneered, “Trying to humiliate me?” “Humiliation’s got little to do with this. Though, yes, I quite enjoy seeing you embarrassed”, he renegade purred, hands soothingly caressing his arms, pulling Vegeta against him, “The young Prince, ever so stubborn, ever so prudish, so squeamish… How long has it been since you’ve had one of your own kind, Vegeta? I won’t believe for a single second you’ve never dreamt about this. I think it’s about time for a little catching up, what do you think?” With those words, the Prince was unceremoniously pushed forward. His legs failed him and he fell forward. The other saiyan that tried to catch his fall as well has his reflexes allowed him. Vegeta found himself on top of his rival, his hands were buried in the flower bed, globs of ambrosia blooming between his fingers. He looked up, finding the youth’s expression to be as astonished as his own. “Vegeta… what are you doing here?” His words sounded sluggish,  as if he’d trouble uttering them. His breath smelled sweet, alarmingly so. “What are you doing here, Kakarot?”, he hissed, “Do you know what you’ve gotten yourself into?” “I- well…”, the younger warrior’s eyes drifted to the side, undoubtedly glancing at Turles. “The tournament is coming up in less than a month and you run around the galaxy trying to get yourself tricked into some cheap, cowardly trap like this?” Vegeta hated bringing up Cell. He was the one responsible for the mess they all had to deal with, after all. He’d tried to face him and failed miserably. He’d realized that for the first time in his life he was training because his life depended on it. And the burning awareness of how desperate his strife to increase his power enough to survive was did not help when the general panic was starting to get to him. Everyone around him was counting on Goku like he was their last beacon of hope. The Prince would never have admitted it, not even to himself, but he was too. Deep within his guts he could tell this fight might have beyond him and it made his insides churn with revulsion and self-loathing. But what infuriated him more than anything, was to bear those feelings inside his chest and then having to see Kakarot, the greatest insult his pride ever had to suffer, succumb at the hands of one such as Turles. “As much as I hate to say this, Kakarot, you’re much stronger than your birth ever gave you the right to be. Turles is just a joke. A joke I should have expected to find blown to bits by the time I got here. Now answer me just this one question, if you can muster enough cerebral prowess to do so: how come he isn’t a pile of cooling ashes scattered to the wind?” “I thought he was… I fought him before. I thought I’d killed him. I would have tried to defeat him again but… he doesn’t mean any harm this time, Vegeta”, the younger saiyan explained. Vegeta’s eyes flashed with rage. So you just let anyone run free? “I should have expected it from you”, he declared, harshly, “You’re clueless. You complete, utter fool.” The dark saiyan had enjoyed laying his dirty hands on everything that should have been his by right. That had gone on far too long. I will put an end to this. In a way or another. “That’s it!” The Prince struggled to find stability, his knees bucking and slipping into the pool of sap, as he gripped the younger warrior by the wrist. “I’m getting you out of here, Kakarot.” “I wouldn’t if I were you, Prince”, came the managing growl for behind him. The renegade was about to pounce on him, but all it took was a sharp glare from Vegeta to stop him in his tracks. “The fact that you still live and breathe is just a generous allowance on my part. And, frankly, the reason why I continue to let this be is beyond me”, Vegeta warned, eyes narrowing. “Your call, Turles. Not that you would live long enough to regret wearing my patience so thin.” He could tell the dark saiyan wasn’t happy about the turn the situation threatened to take, but prized his own life too much to dare and go against him. His pink tongue ran across his bottom lip, wetting it thoughtfully. To Vegeta’s disappointment, he looked a lot less discouraged than he would have liked. He was weighing his options. “How uncharacteristic for you to feel threatened by someone you insist to be no match for your power.”, the renegade uttered, slowly, a sly smirk treaded cautiously across his features, “What is it, Prince? Were you worried I wouldn’t have kept my word?” “While Kakarot would be foolish enough to ever believe you would keep your word, I know better than listen to traitorous scum like you.” “Are you saying… you’re looking out for me, Vegeta?” The Prince turned to Kakarot, startled, an outraged expression painted on his rapidly heating face. Despite the dazed expression, his eyes lidded somehow languorously, the slight grin pulling at the side of the younger saiyan’s mouth was looking somewhat smug. Too much so for the Prince’s liking. “What the hell are you smiling for, fool?!”, he snapped. The younger warrior wasn’t fazed in the least. If anything, his smile widened even more. “Answer me, Kakarot! Have you lost your damn mind?!” “I’ve always known you cared, Vegeta”, was the candid reply, delivered in such a terse, earnest tone it was impossible for the Prince to help the wave of heat that rose all the way up to his ears. The younger warrior always had a tendency for getting too fond and familiar with him -and far too fast at that. It was as if he instinctively knew just how to get underneath his skin. He always had. Vegeta found himself gritting his teeth. Pisses me off! “Traitorous bastard”, the Prince snarled at the dark saiyan behind him, overcome by a hot wash of embarrassment and wanting to steer the attention away from his momentary, telling, hesitation. “Was this your plan? He’s had so much he can’t think straight!” “I actually think he was quite sharp there”, Turles chuckled before catching Vegeta’s flaming eyes and adding, “But by all means, you can blame me and my cheap tricks, if it’s easier on your pride.” “You literally left him unconscious in a pool of Ambrosia!”, the Prince retorted, venomously, “I’d gladly hear what kind of excuse you can come up with for dipping him into your cheap trickery.” “He’s so oblivious of our nature and our traditions… I had to use it so that he’d understand what I’m truly here for. He is quite thick… In the head too.” He snickered. “That doesn’t mean he’s here against his will, though.” “I don’t think he’d still be here if he truly knew what was happening.” “Oh?” Despite the Prince’s clear intention of whisking his prey away, the dark saiyan appeared awfully amused, his tail wagging slightly behind him. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” There was a strange confidence about him, that the Prince wasn’t sure he liked. His was the poise of someone who knew he was about to get exactly what he wanted. Vegeta’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. He turned his head around, following Turles’ gaze, and saw Goku’s face right in front of his own. Their eyes met. And, suddenly, it was as if the sun and all the stars had stopped moving. It lasted only for an instant but it was more than enough to take all of it in. His brown, half lidded eyes, the unusual, yearning look in them, the plump, parted lips. A single breath, mingled between them, and then other’s mouth was on his own. For a long, interminable instant, he was unable to react. He’d been caught unprepared, like a deer in headlights, and could do nothing but succumb to the kiss. The younger saiyan’s lips disclosed against his own and he yielded. Then, the yielding turned to welcoming and he rejoiced the taste of his rival’s lips and the surging warmth that followed once his tongue had slipped into his mouth. He jerked away abruptly, but hesitated one instant too long before forsaking the other’s lips. “Kakarot-“ The younger saiyan had caught wind of the pulsing that stirred his core. One earnest, eager look and Goku’s mouth was on his once more. By the time his intoxicated mind had fully realized what was happening, he found himself responding to the kiss with fervor. His hold on the warrior’s wrist had loosened. Now his wrist was being held in return, large, demanding hands pulling him downwards until his chest was flush against the warrior’s, his weight resting nearly entirely on the other’s body. The pulse of the other’s heartbeat thundering over his own felt incredibly intimate. Their entwined forms fit together perfectly, he only knew just how much once his hips eased down. Then, he felt the burning length pressed against his lower stomach, where his own had stiffened once more, encased in the heat and moisture of their sweating bodies. The warrior’s sex twitched against his. That made him jolt again. He pulled away, breathless, a look of mortified bewilderment on his face. His body had betrayed him, a craving displayed. He knew he’d been seen through. Kakarot’s rich, brown eyes were on him, dreamy yet intense in a way that made him feel extremely heated. His wandering gaze scorched him and the Prince knew he could see what that was doing to him. A hot wash of embarrassment coursed through him and he turned his head away, eyes closed shut. “You two are tragic.” Turles sounded awfully amused. Vegeta turned his head just enough to glare at him. The renegade was crouching behind them, a lurid grin bending his lips. He’d been watching that whole time. He looked as if either the sight or the ambrosia had finally gotten to him. He sported a very obvious erection, framed by thick, muscular thighs. “Don’t worry, Prince,” the renegade carried on in a low voice, shooting his liege a knowing glance, “There is no moon here. Though I did see one when you bent down.” “Shut it, lowlife!”, he snarled at him through gritted teeth. The kiss had given him away and there was no turning back. He could only hope that the renegade would not run his mouth too much and that Kakarot would be dumb enough not to glean anything from his words. Turles doesn’t know any better. This bastard is just as oblivious to Earth’s culture as Kakarot is of ours… He doesn’t realize what he’s doing. Kakarot already has a mate -a wife- that black-haired harpy that’d make even a saiyan woman pale in comparison… He- His trail of thought was interrupted once he felt Kakarot’s hand on his shoulder. He looked down at him, meeting the same dreamy-eyed stare from before. Brown irises searched for his own, shining with wonder as if the warrior was seeing color for the first time. It was intoxicating, to be looked at in that way. It infuriated him. “Come on, Vegeta…” Suddenly, Turles’ voice was right behind him, closer than it had been before. “Tell him who you came for.” Vegeta felt himself flush even more. He didn’t know whether it was from arousal of anger anymore. “Vegeta… you are here for me, aren’t you?”, the young warrior underneath him murmured, his thumb squeezing his shoulder lightly. The Prince could not stand that fondness. Of course, it’s you, you insufferable fool. It’s always because of you. “I came to take you back home, Kakarot” “Vegeta…” The way his name sounded in his rival’s mouth had always bothered him, somehow. “Yes, I’m here because of you, you idiot” the Prince replied, not as harshly as he would have liked to. He couldn’t speak his anger properly with Goku’s sex standing stiff between his legs. It was hard not to focus on it. He was hard, too. “You should leave, Kakarot,” he uttered with some difficulty, his voice airy. Turles’ hand was gently pressing on his back, encouraging him to lower his hips. It was the lightest pressure but he gave in to it as if it had been as inevitable as gravity. He gasped and bit his lip. His hips had met with Goku’s once more, their sexes lined up. Holding back was grueling, his erection was getting painfully hard to ignore. “You don’t know what you’re doing…”, was the last thing he managed to articulate. He wasn’t sure to whom he was talking anymore. His head sunk down before he could elaborate any further. Kakarot’s body had surged underneath him, his powerful hips thrusting upwards against his own, lifting him like a wave. His shaft grazed alongside the Prince’s. His heart thundered in his chest, making his ears buzz. “Vegeta…” His name again. Not a plea, this time around. A demand. The Prince realized he’d closed his eyes once he found himself opening them. Goku’s hand was on the back of his neck now, pulling his head down. Their forehead touched, their noses grazed against each other, breathing each other’s breath. The young warrior’s eyes were still on him, half-lidded, intense, resolute as he’d never before seen them. Something dark had started creeping upon his countenance, something that made him look less like his usual self and more like what his nature had originally meant him to be. A warrior. A hot-blooded animal. A saiyan. “Do you want to leave?”, was the hushed inquiry, breathed softly a few inches from his mouth. A long pause of silence. Then, he finally let out, “No…”. “Then, please, trust me,” Goku whispered, cupping Vegeta’s face, “I do know some things too.” The Prince shivered. Gentle, hands ran down his neck, chest and then his sides, his warm palms sending thrills coursing across his skin, before settling on his hips. Any remark he might have had was muted by a strangled groan once the younger warrior moved underneath him once more. His sex twitched visibly against his rival’s equally straining erection. Vegeta could feel Turles’ presence behind him too. He felt the raw, carnal heat coming in waves from Kakarot’s bare body between his legs. And their hands, touching him in places one of his own hadn’t touched for years. Something chemical that had been lying dormant within every molecule of his being for far too long was sparked back to life. He felt cornered, trapped between two demanding, expectant bodies, lively shafts standing stiffly to attention, calling for his touch. He could feel his own heat spreading through his limbs like wildfire. He couldn’t take it anymore. “Don’t pretend to hate this, Vegeta”, Turles taunted, his voice like velvet. “I can feel you don’t. Me and Kakarot both.” But I do. I do hate it. I hate that he’s right, the Prince thought, unable to keep his expression from morphing into one of enjoyment, Damn him… Damn them both! “Damn it…”, he cursed under his breath, unable to keep his body from responding to the sensation anymore. “Damn it all to hell…” “Yes, Vegeta, yes,” the renegade behind him husked in his hear. “Give in to it. You know you want it. It’s yours, just take it, conquer it, own it.” The Prince ground down, coaxed by two sets of warm hands on his gently undulating hips. His back arched as he moved against his rival, feeling the other’s shaft throb against his own. The friction was made all too pleasurable by the slippery sap that had slickened the younger warrior’s skin. Vegeta was breathing harder now, his mouth agape as he moved, his hands digging in the flower bed below them. He could feel Ambrosia seeping into his system from beneath his fingernails. He paid it no mind. It was hard to care about that once his movements started eliciting gasps and whimpers from the younger warrior. He couldn’t complain, nor fight it. It felt too good to. I really hope you know what you’re doing, Kakarot. It sure feels like you do… and I don’t want this to stop. Goku was still looking at him - ever looking at him. The surprised disbelief from before was gone form his eyes. Now, there was only awe and longing… and an odd hint of lustful awareness that made Vegeta flush, though he would’ve sooner said it was from arousal than admit it was from embarrassment. He’d been seen through… or at least that’s what it felt like, to be looked at in that way. Those brown eyes spoke nothing but acceptance and a hint of something the Prince could only call relief. Vegeta couldn’t fully grasp it, just as he’d never been able to fully understand his rival. So he did what he’d learned to do when it came to him: he simply accepted him in return, wordlessly.   His attention was diverted from his trail of thoughts when Turles’ thumb trailed down his spine to rub across the pale stump that marked the place his tail used to be. He jolted slightly, feeling shivers ran up his spine as the warm pad tickled ancient, hidden nerves. The appendage might have been missing, but its collateral effect persisted. The muscles had been cut off, but the nerves were still there. “It saddens me to see you lost your tail too, my Prince. It’s quite unbecoming of you”, was the soft purr that came from behind him. Vegeta opened his mouth to speak but could only let out a soft groan when the dark saiyan’s mouth covered his scar. “But I see you’re still very sensitive here, even without it…” The renegade’s hand stroked his back, prompting the Prince to relax. So Vegeta did, unwittingly, bending down and resting his head on Goku’s ample chest, breathing in the warrior’s scent with every whimpering breath. He’d discovered he enjoyed when Bulma’s hands grazed that spot during sex but he’d never been touched in that way ever since he’d lost his tail. The tingly sensation was close to overwhelming. The renegade still hadn’t started to surprise him yet and still managed to catch him unprepared once he took his attentions further. Vegeta’s eyes shot open, feeling Turles’ tongue lick along the cleft of his rear, shamelessly prodding at his entrance. He tensed up again. Goku wrapped an arm around his shoulders, steading him. The warrior’s hand met with Turles’, still resting on the Prince’s back. Vegeta could feel their hands joining together, fingers entwining. One of his own arms wrapped around the younger warrior’s shoulder, holding him in turn as he stifled soft whimpers against his collarbone. Goku’s sturdy body anchored him as he raised his hips slightly. For the most part, he was glad the pirate’s mouth was too occupied to comment on the pleading arching of his back. Sparks flew across his vision once he felt the tongue prod deeper as Goku’s right hand slipped within their bodies, wrapping around both their erections and stroking slowly. That elicited a simultaneous, enraptured sigh from them both. The younger saiyan rested his head against his prince’s humming his appreciation softly. It was almost like the two third class had coordinated their efforts to drive him crazy. If such was their intention, they were certainly succeeding. Vegeta sucked in air through gritted teeth once the renegade’s tongue was replaced by a finger. A now sadly familiar warmth started spreading through him, he knew what suddenly sent liquid fire coursing through his nerves. “You’re opening up so nicely for me, Prince”, Turles’ velvety voice poured like honey next to his ears, “Having a change of heart about my cheap trickery now?” Vegeta turned his head, forcing himself to glare at the renegade for his insolence. From the smug grin on the dark saiyan’s face, however, it was clear his expression betrayed something other than displeasure. The treacherous sap was making it shamefully easy for the dark saiyan to stretch him out and the glide of rough fingers inside him all the more pleasurable. Every time his digits hit his prostate it sent a hot wash of pleasure through his sex too, throbbing and weeping in his rival’s grasp. His attention continued to drift back and forth between the wanton tugging at his throbbing shaft and the nimble stroke of expert digits against his prostate until there was no telling the difference between the sensations he was receiving from both ends. “You’re going to have to do a lot more to get me to change my mind about your cowardly mischief, traitor”, Vegeta breathed, forcing himself to exhale fitting disdain. “A lot more, huh?” Obsidian eyes wondered downwards, cherishing the tangle of honey and ivory shifting and stirring beneath him. A grin pulled at Turles’ lips. He spread his fingers within his Prince’s flesh and cherished the   promising tightening around them. He let the digits slip free from the other warrior’s flesh. He might have been able to sate appetites beyond his wildest hopes that night. “Maybe that’s just what I’m going to do. After all, since your presence here has changed things”, Turles husked, bending down over his Prince, “I should change my plans a little…” Vegeta caught his meaning all too well when he felt the hard length of the dark saiyan’s sex pressing against the cleft of his rear. As if the warm weight of his erection against his entrance hadn’t been eloquent enough, Turles reinforced his words by dragging his tongue along his neck. His arms had already started looping around his waist, pulling him backwards. And Vegeta felt so aching and empty that he was almost about to let the renegade steal him form his rival’s embrace. And he would have. If it hadn’t been for a second pair of strong hands gripping him at the elbows and pulling him back down. As he was forcefully yanked away from Turles’ grasp, Vegeta caught a glimpse of Goku’s eyes, a spark of that vicious light again, so uncharacteristic of him. He saw that flame, dark and hungry. Possessive. He could feel something warm coiling in the pit of his stomach. The younger warrior didn’t leave him enough time to dwell on that. Before he knew it, Vegeta’s world had turned upside down. His back hit the flowerbed, feeling the honeyed sting of Ambrosia cling to his naked skin. He looked up to see Goku’s face over his, he felt his arm around him, supporting his waist off the ground, and the heat of his erection brushing against his inner thigh. “Vegeta…”, he murmured, a quiver in his voice. His tone was apologetic. His eyes weren’t. The Prince felt a smile threatening to creep upon his face. “How cruel of you, Kakarot”, a purring voice intervened, a bronze arm locking around the warrior’s neck, pulling him backwards gently. “Stealing my prize away like this…” Turles was resting his head on Goku’s shoulder, glancing briefly downwards at Vegeta. A mauve, velvet tongue traced the younger warrior’s earlobe. “I thought I was your prize”, Goku retorted, unexpectedly sly. The renegade seemed as pleased as he was surprised. “Are you, now?”, he purred. The younger saiyan stirred, reaching backwards to bury his hand in the other’s dark mop, turned his head and kissed him. Turles let out a soft sound as he opened his mouth for him, almost meekly. His hold around the other’s neck loosened and his hand slid downwards, trailing along the elegant clavicle and further down across sculpted pecs. Vegeta watched as his rival claimed the dark saiyan’s mouth, roughly, catching glimpses of his fangs before flushed lips crashed against the other’s mouth. He couldn’t help but think there was something commanding in the way Goku held the renegade’s head still, fisting his hair. He felt something akin to pride when he heard Turles pant into the kiss, dark brows knitting briefly before he was finally let go of, eyes clouded and mouth agape. The younger warrior’s head turned to the Prince, who didn’t hesitate and wrapped his legs around the warrior’s waist, eagerly, once he felt the hand on his back pull his hips upwards, lifting them off the ground. Ambrosia tricked down his spine, dripping off his rear, but he paid it no mind. More than the intoxicating sweetness filling his lungs, what bothered him was that his rival was hesitating, still. “What now, Kakarot?”, he sneered, “Ran out of ideas? Do you have any inkling of what your doing?” “I know what I’m doing”, the warrior replied, huskily, and Vegeta had to believe him. There was hunger in his eyes, but there was forbearance too. “Then what are you waiting for?”, he growled. He squeezed his sides between his knees, meaningfully. Searching eyes delved into his in reply, dark and desirous. The Prince had never before felt so weak from just a look. He couldn’t stand to see that desperate longing. “Your word, Vegeta”, came the fervent whisper. “Just a word.”