“I haven’t anything else to blame Kakarot,” Vegeta said solemnly, letting out a ghastly amount of smoke. I watched it soar and twist into shapes and rolls, beautiful one moment and ugly the next. Like Vegeta in so many ways. Amazing that the most gorgeous creature I’d ever laid eyes on to this very day could make me so nauseas, so utterly and completely sickened by his mere words.
“If you never love something, how can it make you sad?” Jurion looked at me. “How can you feel emotional pain if there was nothing there to bring it about? And certainly, where would the feeling of loss come from if there was never anything to fill the void in the first place? Love is an invitation for all three. And yet humans invite it so readily, as if they can thrive on it alone. “All you need is love”,” he sneered, making a face. “What a crock of shit! All you need is yourself and a good head on your shoulders. Not love that binds and blinds until it takes away all dignity and pride that might have been there. Face it Goku, you’re a puppy for a feeling that weakens you by the moment. You depend on a fickle emotion that will eventually break you.”
“But if love weakens you,” I said, feeling sick with the combination of smoke and alcohol. “Than what makes you strong? Surely not hatred!”
“No,” Jurion nodded, lacing his hands together. “Freedom and control make you strong.”
“Indeed,” Vegeta smiled. “But don’t underestimate the power that hatred has, Jurion. Hatred solves disputes. Hatred brings ABOUT freedom and control. Where love is idolized, hatred is penalized.”
I thought long and hard about what he’d said, the both of them beginning to reveal a very pessimistic and yet (though whether this makes sense at all I’m inconclusive), a very optimistic view point at the same time. I had always believed that a life without love was like never living at all. Life began with love. A child is conceived through love, is he not? If hatred were the only creation, wouldn’t that be the end of humanity? Wouldn’t all reproduction become a wicked cycle of rape? Wouldn’t that eventually consequent extinction for mankind?
Love could make you stronger. Love had no bounds or limits or degrees. Love meant sacrifice and loss, sometimes, yes. But when I thought about my life, my sad and my happy times, I knew that although I’d never speak it, every mistake, every failure, every everything that had occurred, I knew that it had all been worth it because I felt that love. In agreeing with their brutal ideals, it would be like regretting or wishing away the love I had experienced with Gohan and Chi Chi.
I shook my head, staring at Vegeta and Jurion proudly, for once not trying to hide beneath my impossibly short hair and instead, regarding them as pupils rather than teachers.
“Blasphemous.” I stated coldly, every single set of eyes in the room glued upon me. “You say that love means to lose, Jurion, but what about all that you lose by avoiding it? You say the word freedom as if love binds you when instead, only love can set you apart and free you of loneliness and sadness, the two things you condemn love for apparently causing. And you, Vegeta,” I said in the iciest voice I could muster, staring at him harshly.
“You speak about the power of hatred and control, but what you don’t seem to understand is that you cant control with hatred because hatred controls you! Hatred rots you to the core until you are its mindless puppet, following it blindly through selfish acts of revenge. You both have shown me the flaws of love and yet, I see through every word that you’ve never even experienced such a thing. Only a person so ignorant about it could ever insult it. If love is so weak than how is it that every battle I’ve ever won was a result of my love for others?”
Each set of eyes was like a weight all their own, tumbling down over my shoulders, so heavy that even in my firm conviction, I bent my head down to avoid such attention, fearful that any proud or arrogant posture might be an invitation for Vegeta’s infamous temper. But the Prince himself looked stunned into silence, his beautiful eyes wide and his brows (usually tucked so tightly together) were well spaced apart and nearly touching his hairline.
“Do you see Jurion?” he breathed, elbowing the surly angel next to him. “Ask me again why I’m so infatuated with him.”
But Jurion seemed to be more then just aware or educated. He seemed almost angry, laying back in the shadow of Vegeta and mulling over ideas and possible debates he could return. And yet, unspoken though it was, I had won this little trial of theirs, staring in victory as Jurion’s heavenly features smoothed away from anger, to determination, and finally, admitted defeat.
“I’m impressed,” he said calmly, gazing up at me with dignity though I realized only too late what an amount I had cost him. He had obviously wanted to make an impression on Vegeta, as most men in the room seemed to be attempting. Every discussion he initiated, every view point, had no doubt come from the Prince. It was like they were his loyal servants, lounging around, awaiting his beck and call, only to answer with his beliefs and never even contemplate their own. Like his brainless, mindless, thoughtless minions.
I felt a sort of shame at my thinking, knowing that it was a sort of human weakness to pass off all contrary beliefs as blatant incompetence. Vegeta had found a band of friends with the same negative view of the world as his. He had discovered beautiful creatures with a contempt for life that rivaled the wickedness in his own heart and for my firm standing, I had been set apart from them. Isolated and yet exalted at the same time.
I didn’t know whether to curse myself in such a vane plight to peddle my beliefs or to be proud that I had voiced them at all. Vegeta answered for me.
“You ought to be proud of yourself Kakarot,” he cocked his head to the side, sliding his fingertips up my neck and onto my cheek. “In a room full of men who would die for their beliefs, you’ve been brave enough to offer something on the contrary. Wrong as you may be, at least you stood up with dignity. So what have you to say to that, Jurion?”
Jurion’s eyes glanced angrily at me, the small light in the room flickering off the round surface of his eyeballs. Vegeta smiled, bending his head down to take yet another hit of whatever it was in the smoking glass jar.
“I choose to rely on lust rather than love,” Jurion said quaintly, apparently forgiving me as he stared so obviously at my genital area. “It gets you where you want to be quicker than love and it leaves you with contentment rather than regret. If both partners are in it for the sex, then there can be no misunderstandings or hurt feelings. Love can tear you apart whereas lust only builds. Sex is life, not love.”
Vegeta passed the large glass container into my hands, the water in the round area splashing around and the tip of an attached metal pipe smoking with some sort of dried, crispy green leaves, all sticking together. I nearly tipped over the couch as it dawned on me that Vegeta was offering me marijuana, quickly trying to pawn it off to the large fellow on the opposite booth before my companion snatched it away and nearly jammed it in my mouth.
“Do it.” He said, like it wasn’t an option or a request. Like it was a command that was NOT to be questioned.
“No way, Vegeta,” I growled in disgust, making quite the scene as I physically pushed it away. “I would NEVER try that crap!”
The mischievous smirk that graced his face made me instantaneously horny, the dark gleam glittering in his eyes reminding me of that uncanny sex face that he made. It was like we were doing it now, as the room spun around me suddenly, everyone in existence ceasing to matter as I just stared into his eyes, infatuated, obsessed, in love and in disgust at the same time. I wanted him in the sickest, filthiest, most perverse way, but at the same time, I hated every moment that I experienced it.
“Kakarot,” he breathed, kissing me with his tongue, caring nothing for the men and women that sat around us. “There’s a lot of things you said you’d never do. Care for me to list them?”
I let him kiss me. No. That’s a lie. I’ve been so dishonest in my telling of this, and yet, you must have seen through it. I didn’t LET him kiss me. We kissed. And did I enjoy it immensely, embarrassing and public as it was? Every repulsive second of it. As his tongue rubbed against mine, reminding my entire body of the sexual thrusts he’d displayed so violently over and over again, it was a different sort of sex, wrong as any other kind I’d enacted with him, but painless and sensual, and completely lacking all of the other aspects that had normally been there with Vegeta. What I’m trying to imply, is that for once, it might have actually meant something. It wasn’t empty and cold, almost vengeful and degrading. It wasn’t demeaning, it was praising. It was an open display of our twisted and utterly fucked relationship. But it was SOMETHING.
“Or would you like me to show you?” he whispered against my mouth, his eyes closed as he pressed them together again.
“Not here,” I panted, wanting it feverishly. Of course, the drinking hadn’t been much support for my modesty and I fought savagely with the overwhelming desire to be fucked ridiculously hard right in the middle of it all. To be touched and tasted by each of these gorgeous men, Jurion and Vegeta most of all. To lay over these mysterious, silent women and feel what it was like to be with a woman again after so long trading places.
Jurion’s hard gaze was on me like a flesh eating disease, taking in every gesture that I made, watching every movement of Vegeta’s tongue across my lips. With embarrassment, I realized he was noticing the growth in my pants and swiftly, I snatched the water bong (as I was to learn it was called) and covered my lap.
“So modest!” he laughed, not catching the murderous glare that Vegeta sent his way. “And yet, I see no basis for insecurities, gorgeous.”
His eyes went to Vegeta and I wondered if even the most attractive man in the room wouldn’t be mesmerized by Jurion’s incessant gaze, giving off the ploy of innocence when the words that flowed from his mouth were such a mockery of it.
“What do you say about sharing tonight Vegeta?” He cocked his eyebrow, glancing over towards me with poorly hidden desire and his, oh-so-idolized lust. “I’m taken with him, it’s obvious enough. And somehow, I doubt he’d refuse me as easily as you do.”
I was shocked to hear that Vegeta had refused anyone, especially the cherubic Jurion whose very smile could make a man’s penis sturdy enough to balance and spin on. But Vegeta merely grinned, waving the air in dismissal as if implying that it was really no such task at all. The handsome Prince strangely gazed at me, searching my eyes for something that I was certain would not be there, making me increasingly uncomfortable.
“What have you to say Kakarot?” He asked so quietly it took a moment for the words to register. His fingers held my cheeks and he pressed his full mouth against mine, tangling his fingers in the short hair of my head. “Should I share you tonight or will you forever choose to be monogamy’s bitch?”
Staring in disbelief, I couldn’t even begin to decipher what he was implying. Oh, I had my ideas, that’s certain enough. But was he REALLY asking me what I figured he was, or was presumptuousness on my part to blame for the awkward situation I’d found myself in? I glanced over to Jurion, trying to play it off as one big joke as I laughed, swatting the air to dismiss the topic. But I guess that smile was all Jurion needed as he made my decision for me.
I fell backwards against the soft cushions of the couch, Jurion crawling over me as he thrust his tongue into my mouth, no permission granted. I was in the ultimate horror, openly enacting the treacherous sin that I wanted so badly to be a secret. But Jurion apparently cared nothing for the audience that watched with little or no shame at what we were doing, some even creating their own groups amongst themselves.
Vegeta smiled at me, though it was clear enough pasted on like a cotton ball snowman in a third grade classroom. I gazed up in terror, my eyes the size of saucers, my arms flailing as Jurion basically attacked me, his hands already up my shirt and feverishly trying to undo my pants. There was no finesse to his movements, no clone of intimacy, no phony ideas of love. Just raw, nearly painful lust.
Coming to my rescue, Vegeta yanked Jurion back by his hair (none-too-gentle may I add) his delicate fingers entangled with the fine, golden curls, eyes blazing as he savagely pressed his mouth to the cherub’s, their heads moving this way and that way as they kissed. If “kissed” is indeed what you would call it. Vegeta’s hand laced itself into mine, his eyes shut tightly as he kissed Jurion, yet his body movements inclined towards me. It was if he were saying that while he was kissing this creature, he was with me.
I was inflamed with the disease, the desire drowning me like a flash flood, the horniness washing away all conscience and thought. I watched them as if I were watching soft core porn, everything about their movements utterly sexual. And of course, though it could go without saying, they were both so unimaginably beautiful, I fought hard with my own amount of lust.
And yet, as much as I try to describe the way Vegeta looked, you’ll never understand to what extent he was beautiful. A million words out of the dictionary, born from a thousand languages could never sum him up. He was ethereal. Unreal. More beautiful than any man in this room, Jurion the angel included. And as I watched his movements, the strange jealousy overwhelmed me as it had never done before.
I wanted him in the worst way, once again. This was torture, watching them do this in front of me, so oblivious to how badly I wanted to join. And yet, as all hope was lost to me, Vegeta pulled away, yanking me towards him as his hand still remained clutching my own, his saliva a mix of mine, his own, and Jurion’s. I swooned beneath the weight of such desire, held down by the accursed alcohol, a slave to this wretched lust that Jurion so exalted.
Pulling back, Vegeta’s lips glistened with spit, his eyes blazing in the way that I’ve only witnessed in the worst of situations. He pressed the bong against me, his eyes imploring as he insisted I try it, if only this once.
It was the most fiendish of peer pressure as Jurion (of bloody course) joined in, insisting that it wasn’t a “big deal” and (in his aristocratic version of a common hippy belief) professed that “society labels good as bad”…….. yada yada yada. I was beginning to very quickly bore of his “government conspiracy” speeches.
Vegeta ceased asking and simply pushed my head down over the top opening of the bong, igniting a lighter and holding it to the end of the metal pipe.
“Suck, then breathe in.” He instructed. And of course, I did, which goes without saying. And of course, it was horrible and disgusting and had it been up to me, I would have vomited out that wretched grass flavor all over the carpeted floor. But I held it in for as long as I could, coughing it out one great gasp at a time.
And while I could stretch this experience out, while I could elaborate on all that was said and how many times I indulged in this horrific act, I’m not going to. I’d rather not be the cause of drug addiction and experimentation.
So there I was, in the middle of what had basically become a sort of mass orgy, every man in the room either completely immersed in the act or well on his way. I was instantly reminded of my dreams, as you may have imagined, smelling that overpowering scent of sex, hearing the sounds that could drive you mad with memories, seeing the very movements themselves and fighting against what your body wanted.
I had imagined at first that after smoking marijuana it would be in affect immediately. Waiting for the reaction, I was pleasantly surprised that indeed, it was “no big deal”, my concept of reality completely in tact. True, the alcohol in my system managed to trip me up to an extent, that’s common enough, but well into an hour of smoking the dreadful contraption, I was amazingly sober.
And of course, as I pulled away from Vegeta, watching as he and Jurion had their turn, that’s about when the room jumped towards me and, not expecting it, I fell back against the cushions of the booth. I suddenly felt like the biggest idiot in the room, paranoid beyond comprehension that everyone was staring at me, that everyone was scrutinizing me, that everyone was laughing at me. Every word that came out of my mouth sounded put on and fake, childish and unintelligent. And when they didn’t answer, when they ignored me, I felt as though it were purposeful negligence on their part, as if they were shunning me.
Then came the “waves of insanity”, as I can find no other phrase that fits them as well. I would think for one instance that I was completely sober of the drug, I was good, I was fine, the moments before had simply gone away. And then I would feel the powerful substance come over me again, like a great wave that traps you beneath the surface, and then I would think that NOW I was sober of the drug, that the moment before that I had been deceived. And in this way, it would go on and on and on, over and over again. Waves of insanity.
Funny how people never really tell you what a drug is going to do. Oh, I’m sure they try. But it’s impossible. Really, all joking aside, it’s impossible to really describe in words what being on a drug is like. One minute, you feel the happiest you can remember, unable to wipe that ridiculous smirk off your face, trying SO hard not to laugh. And then the next minute, you’re on edge, miserable in your paranoia, convinced that everyone in the room thinks you’re a complete retard. You either love it, or you hate it.
My mouth felt dry and sticky, my eyelids glazed together every time I blinked them. Every emotion was running on high, every fear, every amount of vanity. If someone told a joke, it was the funniest joke I could remember hearing. If a sad thought came to my mind, I was on the verge of tears. The guilt was like a person inside me, like a little cricket in my ear insisting that he’s my conscience. For the most part, I felt miserable in those first few moments.
Everything I said came out so late that no one knew what topic I was on! How did they keep up?! Was everyone REALLY staring at me?
And before I even remember getting up, (not that I forgot much, I don’t think) I was tumbling up the stairs, Vegeta and Jurion basically hauling me up one flight at a time, sometimes stopping for a feverish kiss in the shadows where I waited like the patient idiot they thought I was. Time was a mystery all on its own, either flying past or catching me in dull moments. One second I was utterly and totally convinced that it was time for me to go home, as I must have been paranoid at the time that Chi Chi would catch me gone. The next second I would think that I’d only been here for an hour. And climbing up the stairs to Vegeta’s bedroom, well, that took what seemed to be a week.
But then, patience really never has been my virtue.
