Rock My World

By Cokey the Cat

Disclaimer: Not mine. I also don’t own the lyrics to Pink Floyd’s "Wish You Were Here" or Nirvana’s "Rape Me", though I do own the parody of Sublime’s "Wrong Way".

Warnings: Yaoi, lemon, underage drinking, tiny bit of violence

Summary: Vegeta is a rock star on Vegeta-sei and Kakarott is a groupie.

Short, yet powerful legs flexed under the tightest black leather pants, the torso above them swathed in blood-red silk, the sleeves belling out at the wrists. The figure of Vegeta towered over the pulsing crowd of the overstuffed nightclub. As colored lights flashed, his omnipotent lyrics rang out in a deep, feral but beautiful, husky voice:

"So, so you think you can tell heaven from hell, blue skies from pain. Can you tell a green field from a cold steel rail? A smile from a veil, do you think you can tell?"

Kakarott, promiscuous teen that he was, had only an hour earlier sucked someone off for the backstage pass now secured around his neck, and he was giddy at the chance to meet the band, though he was close enough already to touch Vegeta’s snakeskin boots.

Kakarott had also flashed someone for the band’s T-shirt, loose on his thin frame, emblazoned in big, bold letters with their name, Sex Sells. Below that was a controversial illustration of a bulky Saiya-jin man in full bondage gear. It had quickly become the wild-haired teen’s favourite shirt, though someone had spilled beer all over him.

Radditsu, his older and very sexy brother, handed him another red plastic cup of beer, which the younger quickly drained, his fourth drink in just a few hours. Inexperienced drinker that he was, he could hold his own.

Suddenly, the tone of the music became harsher, less controlled. "Rape me, rape me, my friend. Rape me, rape me again . . ."

Kakarott smirked, singing along to the nearly seductive lyrics, the way the lead singer expressed them.

Looking down, Vegeta spotted the unruly-haired teen, who flashed a nice show of fangs. Vegeta grinned his right back at the pale boy. Flirting with the crowd ensured plenty of groupies.

Ending the song to deafening applause, Vegeta growled into the microphone, "I need to go take a piss," then disappearing off stage, his band doing likewise.

Horny as fuck, Kakarott turned and leaned back against the stage, spreading his legs slightly and waving his tail to advertise his goods. Several men stared, snapping their tails and showing fang in response, but the teen nodded at only one, allowing the tall, spiky-maned man between his thighs.

Their mouths fought hard, Kakarot’s hand tightening in short ebony locks as the stranger ground their aching groins together, the teen’s moans freed when the man pulled back to tease his neck. Everyone in close proximity watched the erotic show, nearly drooling. Several paired off also.

Suddenly, Kakarott yanked the man’s head back. "Ouch! That hurt, motherfucker!"

"Shut up and take it, slut!" The stranger surged froward, ripping the teen’s thick, pouty bottom lip wide with pointed fangs.

Radditsu grasped the man’s waist and spun him around, away from his little brother, punching the stupid loser in the face. The man responded with a kick to Radditsu’s stomach, leaving the protective older brother gasping. Several men jumped on the would-be-rapist, effectively beating him to a pulp before allowing him to scamper off and lick his wounds.

Recovered, Radditsu coiled his tail tightly about Kakarot’s bicep, leaning down so the younger could hear him over the buzz of the crowd. "Why are you being so stupid?!? You could’ve gotten raped!"

"I just wanted to have a little fun," the teen pouted, slightly drunk, sucking blood off his torn lip.

"I’m seriously thinking of just taking you home. You could really get yourself hurt."

"Please Radditsu," Kakarott displayed his never-failing puppy eyes. "Just let me stay. I’ll be good! Please don’t tell Dad!"

"Ok, but you’re staying right here with me." He grasped his tail tighter over the teen’s slim arm.

Sex Sells waltzed back on stage to the tempo of clapping hands and screaming fans. Vegeta took back to the microphone, his husky voice low and beautiful.

"Who wants to come up on stage with me?"

Kakarot’s hand shot into the air, despite Radditsu’s struggles to restrain it.

"Ok, young one," Vegeta smirked, pulling the thin teen up onto the stage beside him. Radditsu glowered.

Whispering in the teen’s ear, Vegeta received a nod, then indicated for the band to start up. Their voices rang out in harmony.

"Andy’ twelve years old, in two he’ll be a whore. Nobody ever told him it’s the wrong way. Don’t be afraid with the quickness you get laid for your family get paid. It’s the wrong way . . ."

Kakarott was in a daze. Here he was, up on stage with a band with a huge cult following, on the brink of breaking into the mainstream. Hundreds of people stared up at him as he sang, leaning down slightly so he could get close enough to the microphone adjusted to Vegeta’s smaller stature. Guitars and drums screamed behind him, even louder than the mass of people.

When the song ended, Vegeta suddenly turned and grabbed Kakarot’s neck, pressing their lips together. The throng hooted and yelled as the teen relaxed into the kiss, giving of himself.

Though stunts such as these were usual at Saiya-jin rock shows and Sex Sells was notorious for them, Kakarott had been very startled, having never been on the receiving end of such a public and wild act, especially with someone as rich and famous as Vegeta.

Pulling back, the Prince of Rock sucked the teen’s lower lip between his own. Kakarott moaned extravagantly as his wound was tongue gently. When at last they broke apart, the crowd roared, the teen blinking his eyes slowly, still dazed.

"You’ve been a great fucking audience. Good night!"

As the crowd and stage began clearing, Kakarott was a statue, unsure of where to go. His brother was below him, calling his name, but Vegeta was so intense . . . so attractive . . . Quickly, his decision was made for him.

Vegeta stalked up behind the tall teen, gently clutching his slim waist and pulling him back. The boy stumbled before following Vegeta back stage.

Radditsu stood still in the nearly deserted night club, furious at his stupid younger brother. How was he going to get home and what was he to tell his father? The man was so strict and overprotective, they were likely to never be allowed out of their tiny apartment again. Radditsu took a seat at the bar, living it up while he could.

Back stage, Vegeta led Kakarott to a large room. The walls were a royal purple, as was the floor, three black leather couches arranged like the sides of a square, a table in the middle. The three other members of the band were on two couches, teen boys draped over and around them, even two teenage girls. Three kegs crowded the nearest corner, the stench of pot blatant.

Vegeta sat Kakarott and himself of the empty couch side-by-side, pointed at each person as he introduced them.

"That’s Donovan, the bass player," a large, muscular man nodded at them, his arm around the waist of the boy in his lap. "And that’s Rance, our drummer." He was currently too engaged in the boy squealing under him to respond. "There’s our master guitarist, Sullivan." Dark, powerful eyes twinkled with lust behind a bleached mop, so damaged that it hung in his face. One of the girls was desperately trying to get his attention, flashing her well-endowed chest. Kakarott turned his gaze back to Vegeta.

"I’m Kakarott."

"And I’m Vegeta, of course," he smirked, slightly arrogantly. "You want a drink, Kakarott?"

"Sure." The teen watched avidly the way Vegeta’s hips swung when he walked, how tight his ass was under the leather, the way that graceful, auburn tail teased him with little flips and twirls.

Kakarott was well aware that he was dangerously close to becoming just another nameless groupie, but he was glad to become part of the carnage of Vegeta’s lifestyle.

The Prince of Rock sat again, handing the teen a drink, sipping his own while he reclined, propping his booted feet up on the table.

"So Kakarott, how old are you?"

"Seventeen." Kakarott sat against the arm of the couch, facing Vegeta. "How old are you?"

"Ripe old age of twenty-three. You live around here?"

"On the other end of town. Tiny little apartment."

"Hmm. How’d you get in this club? You’re underage." Vegeta noted.

"My brother knows the owner. He got me in."

"Sneaky little one. You probably could’ve passed anyway. I thought you were twenty."

Kakarott scooted closer to Vegeta, their thighs nearly brushing. "Really?"

"Would I lie?" Vegeta plastered on a sarcastic grin, then suddenly changed tone, playing seductive. "You want me?"

"Who wouldn’t?" The teen skimmed his fingertips up a leather-clad thigh, staring into smoky eyes that make the heavy black eyeliner caking them look grey.

Vegeta pressed forward into a kiss, tasting the ambrosial boy for a second time. Responding eagerly, Kakarott marvelled at the sharpening of his nerves as his arousal expanded, aching to be caressed as his hand did Vegeta’s slim-built chest through the red silk shirt.

Grasping thin shoulders, Vegeta’s hands snaked down, gently tweaking pert nipples before trailing to the hem of the smelly shirt and pulling it over the boy’s head, breaking back from the kiss. Kakarott looked disappointed at the loss of contact.

"Don’t pout, young one. You’ll have all you want soon enough." Gracefully, Vegeta pressed the teen back into the leather sofa, wiggling himself between slim thighs. "You want me to tell them to go away?"

Turning his head, Kakarott noted that everyone in the room was watching their display avidly, Donovan looking ready to jump on them. "Yes, please."

"Everybody out. Find your own action." Slowly, the room emptied. "Better, Kakarott?"

"Yes. I don’t like to be ogled."

"Have you ever done this before? Sex, I mean. You just came into maturity, what, a year or two ago?"

"I’ve done it plenty of times." Kakarott crossed his thin arms.

"Ok, ok. Don’t get all defensive. I was just wondering. Now where were we?" Smirking, Vegeta pressed his lips back into Kakarot’s.

Quickly, the teen relaxed, wrapping his arms around the rock star’s back, gently clutching a sable limb. Moaning, Vegeta released the boy’s mouth, planting sloppy kisses along his neck.

"Eager, are we? You’ve never had a lover like me, boy."

Shifting, Vegeta sat over slender hips, unbuttoning his thin shirt, forcing Kakarott to relinquish his tail. Quickly, he was nude from the waist up, smirking anew.

"You want me to get you out of these nasty old pants?" Teasing, he undid the button, Kakarott nodding ferociously.

Slowly, Vegeta cupped the teen through his jeans, rubbing slow circles with his thumb. Biting his wounded bottom lip, Kakarott quickly freed it, groaning, closing his eyes and throwing his head back erotically.

"Take me . . . please, Vegeta . . ."

"Yesss . . ."

Pulling on the jeans, Vegeta removed them easily with Kakarot’s cooperation, taking the boy’s boxers with them, unveiling a mighty member, that thick vein straining the skin. Teasingly, the Prince of Rock traced it with a lazy fingernail. Kakarott whimpered and bucked with inexperience; the only things he had ever done had been hard and fast, nothing like this.

"You ready for more, boy?" Kakarott moaned in the affirmative.

Sitting back off the boy, Vegeta quickly denuded himself, then spread Kakarot’s long legs, one of them dangling over the edge of the couch, the other over the back of it. Smirking up at the teen, Vegeta slowly inserted a lone digit into that tight entrance, enjoying thoroughly the boy’s particular lube. Stroking upwards, Vegeta knew he had found the right spot, his lover’s feral noises and shivers making his own groin quake.

"What-what was that?!?" Kakarott strained his neck to peer at the Prince.

"Quite inadequate lovers you’ve had, young one." Again Vegeta rubbed just there, and Kakarot’s head dropped back, his spine arching, offering himself.

Sneaking another finger in, Vegeta stretched muscles gently, thrusting around a bit, getting a feel for the teen, deciding to finish the preparation in a much yummier way.

Kakarott gasped as something hot and wet rasped against his nerve-rich entrance, delving within. Was that . . . Vegeta’s tongue?!? Disgust filled his mind, thinking of what came out of there, blocking any possible pleasure.

Sensing the change in his lover, Vegeta pulled back, replacing his fingers. "Don’t be disgusted. You are quite delicious, young one." As he licked his lips, Vegeta was giving a strange look by Kakarott, until his pleasure centre was brushed again. "Ready?"

"Yes . . . please . . ."

His hands planted on the bottom of a thigh each, Vegeta inched froward, gliding smoothly into Kakarott, who tossed his head extravagantly, his swollen lips parted in beautiful sounds. When he was fully sheathed, Vegeta paused.

"Ok, Kakarott?" Gods, the boy was so tight! The likes of such the Prince had never before taken.

"Y-yes . . . move . . ." His hips urged back as his seme began thrusting, the slap of skin on skin deafening.

Vegeta angled upwards with experience, groaning heatedly as his uke tightened with each deliberate brush of his prostate. Forcefully slowing himself down, the Prince of Rock thoroughly enjoyed the willing body beneath his, the friction dragging him back deep, the heat nearly blinding him.

"Faster!" the boy begged, his leaking erection proof of his want for release. Tears streamed down his face, his vision white from pleasure that had just been awakened within him.

"Mmmahh . . ." Vegeta lasted little longer before he bent to the urges of his lover and his own body, thrashing as he leaned up and claimed Kakarot’s lips, muffling their heated noises.

Closer to the edge by the second, Kakarott squeezed Vegeta’s thigh with his tail, begging wordlessly to be touched. Vegeta relented, breaking the kiss, clenching the boy’s need in his fist and stroking as madly as his thrusts had grown, no longer aimed.

So close . . . his body arching as he screamed and sobbed, Kakarott splattered first, Vegeta’s yells mingling as he came deep in that unbelievably pleasurable cavern, falling atop his lover, their sweat drying as they drifted off.

"Got it," Donovan whispered to his band mates as he stopped the video camera he had poked through a crack in the door. "We’ll make a killing on Ebay."