Gentle

A strange sensation roused him. It took him a few moments to realise what it was.
       Someone was kissing his shoulder.
       Warm, gentle kisses from firm lips. He sighed as a hand brushed aside his hair, lips tracing a path up his neck to his ear, the beard and moustache almost ticklish against his sensitive skin. He shivered delightedly, his murmur deep and full of passion.
       "Vejiita..."
       Sharp teeth nipped lightly at his earlobe. Arms went around his chest, stroking softly downwards, tracing taut muscle, fingertips skimming over prominent hipbones: one hand cupped his balls while the other wrapped firmly around his erection. Zaabon moaned, his hips automatically thrusting upwards into the welcoming grasp.
       "... Vejiita..."
       Quivering, he turned to take the king into his arms - to find himself eye to eye with Furiizaa. In his grotesque third form.
       Zaabon froze in panic, unable to breathe. The Ice Lord smiled without humour, cold black claws ripping into his slave's smooth skin.
       "Have you been cheating on me, my dear?"

His heart pounding, he shot bolt upright, gasping for breath. Beside him Vejiita started awake and grabbed his wrist.
       "What is it?"
       Zaabon shoved a trembling hand through his hair.
       "... nightmare... sorry..."
       The king frowned, watching him for a moment, then gripped his shoulder, pulling him back down onto the bed and wrapping strong arms around the shivering blue body, nuzzling his neck.
       "I'm here. I won't let anything hurt you."
       The words didn't sound right, somehow, but Zaabon, still shaking from the effects of the dream, was content to rest against the hard strong body at his back, unquestioning as the rare pleasure of simply being held calmed him. The strong arms around him tightened as Vejiita kissed the back of his neck.
       "I'm the only person who will be permitted to hurt you..."
       The voice was suddenly harsh, ugly, and Zaabon stilled, his eyes widening. Before he could stop them, strong hands gripped the rings through his nipples, twisting them, reopening the gouges: he screamed as the king shoved his thighs apart and slammed into him, brutally, tearing him open again...

His eyes flashed open to see Vejiita leaning over him, frowning, one hand over his mouth to stifle his cries. He struggled upright, pushing the hand away, gasping hoarsely, his eyes wild.
       The king scowled.
       "I don't know what you were dreaming, but I'm glad I wasn't there."
       Zaabon bit back a hysterical laugh, then gripped Vejiita's shoulder with a trembling hand.
       "Are you real?"
       The ebony eyes widened.
       "Of course I'm real. What's the matter with you?"
       The alien sank his head into his hands.
       "... oh gods..."
       After a moment Vejiita slid an arm across the bowed, shaking shoulders under the curtain of silky hair.
       "Are you all right?"
       Zaabon sighed.
       "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

It was his second night in Vejiita's bed. After that first night in his own, when the king had seen to his comfort and cradled him while he slept, he'd expected things to return to normal, for Vejiita to treat him with veiled contempt and have as little to do with him as possible. But instead he'd found himself welcome in the royal suite...
       More than welcome, in fact: Vejiita had insisted. And although Zaabon didn't think the king would betray him, he couldn't be entirely sure: Saiyans were notoriously erratic, rash in deed and volatile of temperament. Uncertain as to whether it would be safe for him to refuse - and in any case wanting (although he didn't dare admit it, even to himself) to spend more time with the king, even though he was apprehensive about what would be asked of him - when Vejiita had come to him, after dark, he'd allowed the king to escort him to the royal bed.
       To sleep in each other's arms. It was, Vejiita had said, all he wanted. And it worried Zaabon. Really worried him. Regardless of the fact he was still too raw to accommodate Vejiita without a great deal of pain (and the king didn't seem to want to cause him pain), he had expected some demands on his body, even if only to pleasure the Saiyan with hands or mouth. But all the king wanted was to hold him, and be held in return.
       It was making Zaabon very nervous. It was probably the reason his nightmares had returned...

"Furiizaa?"
       Zaabon peered up at the king and nodded. Vejiita scowled.
       "But you're with me. Why are you dreaming of him?"
       The alien shifted slightly, twisting to gaze at the Saiyan.
       "I have to go back tomorrow."
       "You don't want to?"
       Zaabon laughed shortly, bitterly.
       "Back to a psychotic sadist whose greatest joy is giving me pain? How could I possibly not want to return?"
       Ignoring the sarcasm, Vejiita cupped the alien's face in one warm hand, thumb stroking across a high cheekbone.
       "Have you ever fucked him?"
       Zaabon blinked.
       "What?"
       "He fucks you, whether you want him to or not. Has he ever let you fuck him?"
       "Of course not!"
       Have you ever fucked anyone?"
       Zaabon stared, unspeaking, golden eyes wide. The king smirked.
       "I see..."
       Vejiita slid closer and leaned forwards, kissing Zaabon's shoulder. The alien flinched, the nightmare still too close: the king drew back, frowning.
       "What's the matter?"
       "I... it's nothing. I'm sorry..."
       Vejiita grabbed a handful of silky emerald hair and yanked Zaabon to him, mouth hot and hungry, one sharp canine nicking the inside of the alien's lip. The king pulled back a little to lick at the bead of dark blue blood, then sucked at the tiny wound, his arms pulling the alien even closer, supporting the strong blue back against one upraised knee, the other leg across Zaabon's thighs as he wrapped his tail around the alien's hips.
       Zaabon sighed into his mouth, one hand tangling in the upswept flame of hair, the other caressing the king's erection as Vejiita's movements became more purposeful. This was more familiar, the prelude to something known, if not exactly relished - almost a relief after the strange gentleness with which Vejiita had been treating him.
       The king's palm settled over the head of his erection, kneading firmly - and then the Saiyan somehow insinuated himself between Zaabon's thighs, slid down the taut blue body and took the rigid blue flesh into his mouth, supple tongue circling the shaft and flicking over the head.
       Zaabon gasped and buried his hands in the king's mane, his back arching as he whimpered disbelievingly.
       This... this is what it feels like? No wonder Furiizaa likes it so much...
       He could feel the pressure building, a hot ache filling his groin, balls tightening as his hips pumped upwards into that hot, wet mouth...
       Then Vejiita stopped. Pulled back, smirking into Zaabon's tortured face and brushing at the tears of disappointment on his lashes. With one last kiss he turned and backed onto the alien's groin, shifting his hips slightly until the head of the weeping shaft was properly centred then pausing, his tail wrapped around Zaabon's waist, waiting for him to enter. Bewildered but aroused at the thought of what the Saiyan was offering, Zaabon hesitantly laid strong hands against the muscular buttocks and eased forwards, halting at the king's involuntary gasp. Vejiita glared back over his shoulder.
       "Don't stop, idiot!"
       "But..."
       "Oh for fuck's sake..."
       Vejiita reached back, grabbed Zaabon's backside and yanked him forwards, simultaneously pushing his own body backwards. With a whimper Zaabon found himself buried in the hottest, tightest sheath of flesh he could ever have imagined, and collapsed forwards onto the king's back, gasping against the Saiyan's neck, wrapping his arms around the strong bronzed chest. Vejiita grunted and locked his elbows, supporting his own and Zaabon's weight on his hands and knees.
       It was a minute or two before Zaabon could breathe properly again - then he began to thrust, very gently at first, mind reeling from the unfamiliar but beguiling sensation of being encased in velvet heat, balls rubbing and gently jolting against the king's as he lunged into that wonderful dark warmth. Then Vejiita moved below him, shifting his hips more forcefully back and forth, the friction sending waves of pleasure through them both...
       Tears streamed down Zaabon's face, completely disregarded as he plunged into the king's body, his climax building with every stroke. Finally, without realising quite what he was doing, he pulled Vejiita up into his arms, bronzed back against blue chest, and dropped back to kneel upright, both hands pumping the king's erection as the Saiyan's tail wrapped tightly around his waist and his hands clenched in the emerald silk of his partner's hair.
       Zaabon sobbed as he came, pulsing deep within the king, his hands slippery with Vejiita's semen as the king reached his own climax. Panting, his body liquescent with satisfied lust, Vejiita pulled them both down to lie on the bed, one hand reaching back to stroke Zaabon's thigh until the alien had slackened enough to slip free. Grinning, he rolled over.
       Zaabon was staring at him, lips parted, wide golden eyes still filled with tears. Vejiita raised an eyebrow, smirking.
       "Not bad for a complete beginner..."
       Zaabon choked on a laugh and pulled the Saiyan close, covering the austere face with kisses.
       "... thank you..."
       "'s mutual." Vejiita growled, somewhat embarrassed by the alien's show of gratitude. He pulled Zaabon's head to his shoulder, one hand absently stroking a broad shoulder as he drowsed in the afterglow.
       A few minutes later he realised Zaabon was trembling, and cupped the alien's chin in one hand, tugging gently upwards - frowning at the expression on the beautiful face. Zaabon looked... hopeless. Miserable. Entirely dejected. Vejiita stroked his face.
       "What's wrong?"
       Zaabon turned his head away.
       "I want to stay here."
       Vejiita sighed.
       "You can't. Furiizaa will come for you and we'll all suffer."
       "I know. I have to go back. But I want to stay here."
       Vejiita forced the desolate face back to his own.
       "I want you to stay too. But while Furiizaa lives..."
       Zaabon pulled the Saiyan close, holding him as though he would never let go. Vejiita felt the wetness of tears on his chest, and wondered for the first time if he'd perhaps done the wrong thing. Might it have been kinder to the alien not to let him know what he was missing? He sighed.
       "When can you come back?"
       Zaabon drew a trembling breath and slackened his hold a little.
       "When Furiizaa says I can."
       Vejiita smirked coldly.
       "Then I'll have to see if I can give him good reasons for sending you here, won't I?"
       Zaabon's head came up slowly, golden eyes gazing into ebony.
       "You would do that?"
       In answer Vejiita kissed him, deeply, tenderly, still not quite believing how much he felt - or of what - for Zaabon (Furiizaa's whore said a little voice in his head, but it was a faint voice, and sounded as though it was making a last desperate plea for sanity: Vejiita ignored it) but determined to spend as much time in his arms as he possibly could...