Home * Library * Gallery * Submissions * Links
Home *
Library *
Gallery *
Submissions *
Links
Just another one-shot. Someone requested that I move this story to the top of
my working list, so I have. Please enjoy.
Inspired by BogusRed's picture, Distant Vegeta.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Warnings: Yaoi, lemon
He sat upon a rock on the dying planet, his hair gleaming red in the sunset, scratched in places, bleeding, his pants shredded, shirt entirely ripped off. The Prince tried to look as if he was calm and didn't think he would die since his ship left them. He had been taking care of the last of the native species when he heard the engines drone to life a few hours before. Running as hard as he could, they were through the thin atmosphere by the time Vegeta had gotten to the spot they landed. There were a lot of people on the ship, but he was one of only three Saiyans left! How could they forget him?
Vegeta swallowed hard, his throat sandy and dry. He knew no one would come to sell the planet for at least three days, and by then, he would be dead. Just living through the approaching night would be a miracle. They had poisoned all the water on the tiny planet, so the Prince had nothing to drink, and less importantly, nothing to eat.
The twilight grew darker as the sun disappeared behind the mountains, and Vegeta put his gloved hand to his throat, his Adam's apple bobbing against his will, wanting to scream for rain, yet the Prince maintained his composure, for who he did not know, being totally alone.
Maybe they had left him on purpose. Radditsu and Nappa would surely make a ruckus, but they could be silenced easily by Frieza's numerous men. Perhaps the lizard himself had ordered it, but why? Vegeta was a faithful servant, even if he did have plots to become the strongest and kiss the bastards . . . all of them . . . but that was nothing more than a child's foolish dream. Why was he left to die of thirst?
Suddenly, a loud buzzing broke the unnerving calm of the night. Vegeta's parched mind soon identified it as a small ship landing outside the mountains, built for one or two people. What was someone doing here?
His mind raced. Frieza could've sent someone here to finish the job, it could be the dreaded space pirates, known to fuck and kill anything that walked (and sometimes things that didn't), or some other form of vicious space creatures that the lone, injured Saiyan would be unable to defeat.
Or it could be some innocent person who had wondered onto the planet, and would save him!
Vegeta shook his tired head. What was he thinking?!? It was twenty million times more likely that it would be some vile thing that would rape and murder him than anything that could possibly help.
Darkness fell completely, the engines cutting off after landing. The stranded Prince had the sudden urge to run for the traveler, but quickly restrained himself. Exposing his position would only call forth death, as would running for no reason, dehydrating him faster.
Leaning back, Vegeta closed his eyes, appearing to be asleep, but was in fact quite aware, more so than usual. His heightened senses kept alert as the cold night winds swirled about his partially nude figure. Against his will to appear tough, the Prince curled in on himself, struggling to conserve body heat.
That fat fucking lizard . . . when he got off this planet, he was going to murder the bastard who had done this to him. Vegeta's hands clenched as he thought about that thick purple blood running through his fingers, the heat of the death, the way it would smell and taste . . . It would be so satisfying to rip that pale throat out with his teeth . . . Slowly, not noticing himself, the exhausted man drifted off.
The dawn was cold and crisp, the sun rising slowly in a haze of red, like that of spilled blood. A tall, lone man crossed the desert landscape, his lacy cravat blowing in the freezing wind as he pulled his thin, long sleeved white shirt tighter about himself, his black pants offering even less warmth as the wind cut right through them. The only part of his body still temperate were his feet, encased in heavy black boots with gold buckles.
A few hundred meters away were harsh looking mountains, black and steep. The man decided to try to find a cave or shelter of some sort. Striding along, he reached the mountains quickly, easily finding a trail through, well worn from the locals he had seen no sign of. He was surprised by his good fortune.
Vegeta smelt it. A man, tall, dark . . . He shuddered awake, scurrying back like a startled animal from the boots before his face. He stared up, praying for his life to deities he had long since given up.
The man stared down at the frightened creature. "Why hello there, little one. What is your name?" He leaned his hand down to touch Vegeta, getting it snapped at before he quickly withdrew it. "Not friendly, huh? Well, I'm Kakarott . . ."
The Prince was scared, worse than he had ever been in his life. The attractive man before him, Kakarott, took himself down to his knees, reaching his hand out again as if to calm a frightened animal.
"Do you speak?"
"Y-yes . . ."
Vegeta replied with a rough voice, guessing that he was already caught. Might as well find out if the man was friend or foe.
"Do you have a name?" Kakarott placed his hand on the other man's shoulder, but it was shrugged away quickly.
"Vegeta . . ." He sat up, beginning to feel faint from lack of water. Saiyans were only known to be able to go two days without, if that. His last drink had been ages ago.
Kakarott noticed the unsteadiness of the creature. "Are you ok?"
"I . . . water, please . . ." The words passed softly from the Prince before he fainted.
Kakarott picked up the light, beaten body easily, cradling the man like an infant, intent on taking him back to his ship.
Vegeta drifted in and out of consciousness, aware of only the cold wind and a hot body.
Carefully, Kakarott lay the prone figure on his bed, sitting beside him, stroking the tousled mane of reddish-black. Pouring a glass of water from the pitcher he kept on his bedside table, Kakarott roused the man.
Awake, Vegeta lunged for the glass, but the larger man held him at bay with a single hand. "If I give you this, you owe me . . ." he warned.
"Ok, whatever . . ." The Prince hurriedly grabbed the cup when allowed, gulping ravenously.
"Slow down! You'll throw up!" Kakarott cautioned, but Vegeta found himself unable, draining the glass and barely holding it down, asking for more.
Kakarott allowed the Prince to have three more glasses, then set the water away. "You must be starving, am I correct?"
Now that his thirst was quenched, Vegeta realized that he was also severely hungry. "Yes." His voice sounded so much better, much less harsh.
"Sit tight." Kakarott got up and left the room.
Vegeta surveyed the tiny place. A single bed, a chest of drawers, and a bedside table were the only furnishings, the walls a plain white, as were the bed clothes. Propping himself up, the Prince watched Kakarott as he returned with a platter of sandwiches. The man was tall, yet pale, unscarred. His clothes weren't tight or revealing, but he was still extraordinarily attractive.
Given the platter, Vegeta ate every sandwich upon it, which probably numbered over two dozen. Kakarott just watched him, amazed that the starved man could still eat with some sort of manners. He noted that Vegeta was startlingly thin, but seemed somewhat strong, though he was injured and scabbed.
"Would you like a shower?"
The Prince surveyed himself, seeing how dirty and sandy he was, still bleeding a bit. "Sure."
"Follow me."
Vegeta found his feet solid as he trailed the larger man out of the bedroom, into an adjacent room, a tiny bathroom with space enough for only toilet, sink, and shower stall. Kakarott gave him a towel and left him be.
The Prince gave a job to the toilet first, then stripped himself of his torn pants and turned on the shower. As he climbed in, Vegeta was startled. On Frieza's ships, there was only freezing cold water, and he had grown accustomed to it. But this . . . it was hot and steamy, something he hadn't experienced in so many years . . . He let himself relax under the beautiful spray, the water pounding the knots out of his sore muscles. He took ages in the shower, just before the point of running out of hot water.
When at last he got out, Vegeta had no choice but to replace his grimy pants, wrapping the towel around his sagging hair before walking out of the steamy room and back into the bedroom, where Kakarott was lain out on the bed, waiting on him.
"Have a nice shower?" Vegeta nodded, aware of the eyes wondering his body. "Are your wounds in need of the attention?"
"N-no, I'm fine, thank you."
"Well, come sit, if you will." Kakarott sat up and gave Vegeta room to do so.
The Prince was uncomfortable sitting next to the man, aware of a strange scent. The smell of immanent arousal.
"I . . . would like to be repaid for my kindness, if you please." His eyes roamed a slim figure.
"Oh-ok." Vegeta hung his head, pulling at his pants.
"No, no, no." Kakarott grasped his wrists, and Vegeta looked up into the pale face, unsure.
"Relax. Enjoy yourself." Vegeta knew now. The large man wanted to watch him. Slipping his hand into his pants, he tried to bring himself to hardness and pretend he was having fun, his face still hanging low.
"What are you doing?" Kakarott demanded, sounding startled.
"What? I thought you wanted this . . ."
"No, not this. I meant . . . I wanted . . ." Kakarott gave up with words and leaned in, taking Vegeta's lips in his own.
The Prince started as the soft flesh brushed against his own, but soon slackened into the soft touch, enjoying the feeling of friction that he was so unused to. He wasn't a virgin, but no one kissed anymore. It denoted affection, not just lust.
A large hand gently touched Vegeta's neck, then slowly pressed against it, breaking their kiss. "This is what I want. Your passion . . ."
The Prince was startled as he stared into soft black eyes. Passion? Why would he want that? He could just get a quick fuck and be on his way. Vegeta mentally shrugged. Kakarott decided the terms of payment.
Unsure of how to express this 'passion', Vegeta waited for Kakarott to make the first move. The hand on his neck reached up and brushed his cheek, soft, gentle touches. The Prince only stared.
"You may touch me . . . do as you please . . ."
Vegeta's hands shook as he reached them to Kakarott's face, resting against the soft, baby smooth skin, both of them frozen. Deciding that he must initiate this act, Kakarott again pressed their lips together, massaging his against the unresponsive ones of Vegeta. Realizing that he was expected to participate, Vegeta tried, not really sure of what to do. Kakarott again pulled back.
"Have you ever done this before?"
Vegeta answered readily. "Sex? Yes."
"No, kiss. Have you ever kissed before?"
Vegeta's lack of response gave away the truth. "Just mimic me."
Leaning back in, Kakarott felt Vegeta's lips rub back, so after a few moments, he opened his mouth, the slighter man doing the same. Smoothly, the traveler slid his tongue into the awaiting cavern, the deserted man's organ pressing back.
Vegeta marveled at how beautiful such a simple act could feel . . . he longed for more. Grasping Kakarott's face and neck, he unleashed himself, kissing passionately as he got the hang of it.
Kakarott smirked into the kiss at Vegeta's sudden reaction, holding onto a slim waist as he returned the brutal, beautiful kiss, pulling the skinny man closer.
Vegeta became more and more comfortable by the second, letting his hands wander confidently over a broad chest, sliding inside the thin fabric, massaging bare, unmarred skin. Kakarott's careful hands circled over his scabbed, bruised flesh, but didn't hurt him, just sending little shivers of pleasure where they were needed.
Pulling back with a series of chaste kisses, Kakarott gently held Vegeta's chin and stared into black, hardened eyes. "Are you ok?"
"I am fine. I do not need to be guided through each step; I am not a virgin." The stranded man grew an attitude as he realized he was more than slightly aroused for a man he barely knew. He felt like a pride less whore.
"Vegeta, I am sorry." Kakarott released the other man's face. "I am not trying to treat you as a whore."
"Well, that's what I am, am I not?" Vegeta yelled. "I am paying you back for food and drink, a shower as well."
"No, Vegeta, that was just a guise. I have in fact wanted you for a very long time."
"And how is that? We had only met this day." The torn man crossed his thin arms and turned his face away.
"I am a business partner of Frieza. I have been on and off his ship for several years now and have been gathering information on you, studying you."
"So you stalked me for a fuck? You got him to leave he here so you can have your way and return me?" His anger grew by the second.
Kakarott's voice turned to a low whisper as he leaned closer to Vegeta. "No. I convinced him to desert you so I can kidnap you from under his rule, make you a free man." He watched brilliant eyes widen. "I just got carried away with the kiss. We can stop and leave now, if you like."
Vegeta thought. This man . . . He was risking his life, judging that his words were true by his scent. How generous . . . and both were already aroused . . .
"We can continue, since it has already begun." Vegeta's voice was a breadth above inaudible as he hung his head, obviously ashamed of his body's want of the other man.
Kakarott gently cradled Vegeta's face and neck, his lips tracing the other side, reddening the soft skin, Vegeta's unconscious purr vibrating through the pair before he suppressed it, embarrassed.
"Vegeta . . . don't hold back. Let yourself go . . ."
The slender man shivered as his earlobe was gently nibbled, his hands holding broad shoulders beneath their covering. Kakarott slipped out of the airy shirt, revealing a broad and beautiful expanse of muscle and lightly scarred skin. Vegeta's soft hands traced the long healed over skin, amazed at the rougher texture.
Kakarott pulled the smaller body closer to his own, his lust unmasked, having been kindled for too long. So many lonely nights, with only fantasies about the perfect creature before him to warm his spirits and his bed. Now, it would all pay off. Gently, he grasped the top of Vegeta's pants, and meeting no resistance, slowly pulled them down, the Prince of the few last remaining Saiyan lifting his hips wantonly to help. The tattered cloth fell to the floor, Vegeta's manhood twitching at being exposed.
The traveler studied the long, oozing shaft, finding it perfect . . . just beautiful. Gently, he grasped it, the planet less Prince bucking into his touch. He stroked slowly, watching the fleeting expressions of pleasure on Vegeta's slim face.
Vegeta thrust and groaned, not used to a touch besides his own there, accustomed to being uke. Kakarott stroked lower as the Prince lay back into the pillows, spreading his legs. A lone finger slid into a slickened entrance, relaxing the muscles guarding it. Mulling it over, Kakarott dipped his head between Vegeta's legs.
The Prince gasped and grasped Kakarott's hair, amazed at the feelings he was trembling from. The traveler's tongue laved roughly at his entrance, exciting all the nerve endings there.
Kakarott enjoyed his meal, delving between those tight muscles, preparing the Prince in the most exciting of ways. His lubrication was tangy and sweet, the perfect snack, the fingers unconsciously tugging his hair vaguely erotic.
Vegeta gently closed his thighs about the other's head. "Enough teasing . . . Just fuck me already . . ."
Smirking at the order, Kakarott gave one last long lick, then pulled back from Vegeta's lap to stare into dark, lusty eyes. "As you wish."
Sliding his body up the bed, the traveler thrust against the Prince's thighs, coating himself with some lube his tongue had missed. Then, as slowly as he could restrain his aching body to, Kakarott entered the practiced uke, earning himself a gasp as eyelids clenched and brows knitted.
Vegeta had felt nothing like this in all his sexually active days. This man was so large, and his own arousal so great, each nerve within him buzzed and tensed, his brain completely shut down. With the most torturous pace, Kakarott thrust into him, savoring each tiny brush of friction.
"Faster . . ." Vegeta begged, something he was not completely unaccustomed to, though rarely in a sexual situation. He usually just lay there and took it.
Kakarott smirked down at his uke. "But I wanna enjoy you . . ."
Unconsciously, the planet less prince's fingers snaked into his lover's hair and tugged. "Please . . ."
Dominant hormones singing, the space traveler quickened the pace minutely, just enough so the skin made a slight slapping sound.
"Damn you . . ." cursed Vegeta as he opened his eyes to a broad smirk. He decided to take matters into his own hands.
With skill built over years, the Prince slid his legs around his lover's back, lifting his hips and pressing into the seme madly, situating himself to hit just the right place. Kakarott halted all movement, surprised. Seeing that Vegeta wanted to as he pleased, the traveler grasped his hips and flipped onto his back.
Finding himself on top, Vegeta used the leverage of his legs to slow to a snail's pace, as had been done to him. "How do you like it, Kakarott?"
Kakarott couldn't say that it was unpleasant. His expression told it all. Vegeta glared and the seme giggled.
Forgoing his plan of punishing his lover, Vegeta focused instead on his own pleasure, something rarely provided to him. His back arched as he moved desperately, allowing his head to fall back, Kakarott letting him do all the work, studying him. Lean muscles bunched and rolled under glistening skin, slim body vermicular in its fury, eyelids closed in a taut face, clearly close . . . The uke leaned over, supporting his slight weight on Kakarott's chest, hips bucking further, taking him deeper, pelvis desperately rolling back and forth . . . Seed splattered over Kakarott's stomach, Vegeta's expression divinely beautiful, priceless just before he fell onto his lover, smearing the mess between them.
Holding the tired uke, Kakarott was painfully aware that he hadn't finished, but that could wait. His love was satisfied and that was all he could ever want. Of course, after a few more rounds, the traveler set the coordinates of his ship to a far planet that had never heard of the Icejin Empire. A nice little planet called Earth.
Return to Top