When Ivan Paskov regained consciousness, his first thought was for his crewmate, David Martin.

"David!" he screamed over the roar of burning hulk that was once a scoutship.

"Uhh!" came a groggy sound from his right.

It was enough. Ivan dived for the sound and pulled David from the wreckage of the control panel, carried him bodily from the ship as a roar told him the fuel tanks had begun to ignite. There was a built-in safety factor in that roar, thirty seconds only would the bulkheads hold in the conflagration. Time enough to dart to the lifeboat and eject, or time enough to carry a wounded comrade into the jungle and over a small rise, to drop behind it and its relative safety before a roar of fire filled the sky and earth.

The ship was gone now, and with it their supplies and hope of rescue. Ivan thought over the glimpse of the planet he'd seen. First job was to make it to a nearby mountain, find some way of painting on it a beacon that would be seen in an aerial reconnaissance. After that...

David groaned again and Ivan dropped to his side. First was to see to it his comrade's life was saved.

David's body bore no external wounds other than small scratches, slight burns and grime. Ivan dipped his kerchief in a nearby puddle, and wiped the dirt from David's face, was rewarded by opened eyes and a small smile.

"Are you hurt anywhere?" Ivan asked, concerned.

David moved himself around slightly. "I feel okay."

"Rest a while." he said gently. "We're safe for now."

"But the ship..."

"Hush now. Rest." The ship was gone.

David fell into a sleep that seemed normal and healthy, Ivan gave silent thanks, regarded his comrade.

David was from America, and bore the mixed race marks of his people. Blond hair was paired with dark brown eyes, a startling combination. His cheeks were gentle curves of pale skin, an elongated, oval face. His body was that of a scout's, muscles worked to maximum strength, making smooth ovals under David's skintight jumpsuit. Ivan let his eyes play down the lithe body as a pink wisp of gas floated under his eyes, admiring the clean lines, the well-formed chest, the arms with biceps like melons...

He shook his head. What was he thinking?!

Ivan turned from his sleeping companion to the puddle, to wash his own face with scoops of water, praying it was wholesome water, but unable to do anything about it. Alien bacteria rarely liked human flesh. Trouble was, alien food was just as indifferent. Starvation was their likely fate.

He watched the ripples in the water smooth out, saw his face in an unreal sense, as if he regarded that of a stranger.

Ivan's father was Russian, his mother Swahili. His body combined the best of the two, he thought to himself. His hair was jet black, but only lightly waved. His skin was golden brown, like a surfer washed with the sun of eternal summer. His face was square and cheeks taut, his nose was nearly pug, his chin cleft. His muscles were that of a weightlifter, and Ivan flexed them, hoped they would carry him to safety this time.

He heard a slight sound, turned. David was raised up on one elbow, framed in pink gas, looking at him, somehow hungrily, yearning.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

David nodded. "How's the ship?"

"Gone. We may find a few fragments we can turn into knives."

David grimaced, he knew their predicament as well as Ivan. But his eyes didn't change, drilling into Ivan's eyes like Ivan was the only important thing in the world right now.

The pink gas moved away, David blinked, shook his head.

"What do we do now, Captain?"

Ivan hated the title, ridiculous on a two-man ship. "We survive, Commander." he replied. "If we can lick that, we'll be rescued sooner or later. Can you walk?"

David rose to his feet, tested his stance. "I think so."

"Good." Ivan looked at the sun, at zenith. "We'd better start travelling. No telling what the rotational period is."

David fell in beside him as they walked through the jungle.

This jungle had never seen the sun of Earth. No plant or insect was familiar, and green was less popular than a pale blue. Flowers were usually orange, the insects buzzed by in red splendor. The trees closed off all but a trickle of the sunlight, beneath them was a nearly smooth floor covered by leaves and small branches. Here and there, pink masses of gas floated like lazy bubbles around the trees.

"Will-o-the-wisps." Ivan said, pointing at the gas, as they tramped.

"I suppose so. Too big for that." David opined. "Swamp gas is more likely, but why is it pink?"

"Is it deadly is more my concern." Ivan said.

"We'll soon find out." David said, pointing at a large mass of the gas, wafting their way. "No way to avoid that."

Ivan wanted to run, but knew it was futile. He had breathed a bit of the gas, and felt fine. Maybe it was harmless, the color a factor of....

The gas touched his body like tangible fingers, his body came alive wherever it touched any part of him. His cock suddenly seemed to notice its jockstrap, treating it like loving caress. Every stride moved his balls around in the pouch, exciting him. His breath quickened, his skin tingled, his eyes glazed.

Ivan turned and looked at David, saw him as the most desirable man in the world. Like there was something about David, who locked eyes with him, something eminently worthy and necessary.

Ivan felt his cock spring to attention, to pulse and jerk against his groin, and Ivan knew with embarrassment that, soon, so easily, he was approaching an orgasm.

"Excuse me." he gasped and ran around a huge plant, like a tree but at least ten feet in diameter, plenty of room to hide him, between it and the pink mist.

He unzipped his fly as he moved, to free his cock from the clutching material, pulled it from the jock and it pulsed hotly under his hand. Like his mere touch was jerking it, it seethed and writhed, ecstasy gripped him and he moved around the tree more, to be hidden from David.

And David was there, had come around the other side of the tree, with the same idea, to hide. David's cock was in his hand, eight inches of pinkish-brown manmeat, the head an angry red. Ivan looked at David's cock, to his own, just as red and angry, and started to, tried to, fought to, turn away.

Illustration for Planet of Desire 1 But orgasm was upon him and to his intense shame, helplessly, passionately, his cock sprayed David with his seed, white jets spraying the blue jumpsuit material that clung so revealingly.

David gasped when the first wad hit him, and grimaced, his load shot out to collide with Ivan's, to clutch at Ivan's body, returning the load with equal fervor. Ivan saw his come spraying in wide-spread shots, coating David's arm and hand flailing now at his cock, and David's seed reached out in a visible arc, to land on Ivan's cock, touch his manhood with the white jism.

And the pink gas moved on, and with it, all of their passion. Ivan found his desire moving away from him with the gas, leaving him, an embarrassed captain in front of his commander, staring in shame at his white seed soaking David's chest, feeling the slickness of David's seed on his cock.

"It's the mist." David said. "My God, did you feel that, too?"

"What happened to us?"

David laughed, wiped his hand free of Ivan's come on the front of his jumpsuit, and Ivan quickly milked his cock to push out the last lingering remnants of his come, and to push David's jism off of the top and sides where it clung, to fall with rich ripeness onto the jungle floor.

"Why are you laughing?" Ivan said, angry now, anger to replace his shame.

"I think you and I had better be nice to each other from now on." David said, still laughing hysterically. "You see, that pink gas is some kind of stimulus enhancer, God knows how it works. But every time a patch of that hits us, we're going to get horny as hell."

"So why be nice?" Ivan asked, knowing the answer but rejecting it at the same time, making David spell it out for him.

"Because each dose is going to hit us harder and harder, if our experience so far is any guide. How long are you and I going to keep our hands off each other?"

"You mean you and me?" Ivan said in dismay.

David smiled, laid a hand on Ivan's unprotesting cheek. "Yes, you and me. If we're going to survive here. It could be worse, my friend and captain. Couldn't it?"

A wisp of gas touched Ivan's nostrils and he felt the flare of desire rise again despite the release.

He smiled, and before the gas could go away, took the opportunity, and the excuse, to kiss David full on the lips, feeling his comrade's erection stab at his groin, to match with his own.

"Yes." Ivan agreed. "It could be much worse."

"Let's get tramping." David said, releasing him. "We got miles to go. And that gas won't leave us alone for long. We need to move all we can, as long as we can. Maybe the gas can't climb the mountain."