Fic: Desert Island Jazz Band, Tremors

Aug 24, 2009 19:12

Title: Desert Island Jazz Band
Author: Claire
Fandom: Tremors
Pairing: Tyler/El Blanco
Rating: NC-17
Summary: In which the truck breaks down and El Blanco takes advantage...
Notes: Written for kink_bingo, for the Double penetration (one hole) square. This contains graphic sex between a human and a giant man-eating invertebrate. Yes, I slash the worm. No, that's not a euphemism. Yes, there's sex involved. No, I don't have any shame.

"Ah, damn it," Tyler swore softly as the truck sputtered to a halt, smoke rising ominously from the hood. This was just what he needed. Desert Jack's had been going through a dry patch and he'd been hoping the clunking he'd been hearing every time the truck turned over would hold out until the tourist season got underway.

"Seriously, you couldn't have waited?" he muttered as he walked around to the front of the truck and popped the hood, coughing when a cloud of black smoke escaped and revealed exactly what Tyler didn't want to see. He just didn't have the money to buy new parts for the truck right now, let alone get them shipped into Perfection, especially not with the extortionate rates Jodi charged to hold parcels at the store until they could be collected.

Dejectedly poking at the engine and trying not to get his fingers burned, Tyler cursed under his breath. There was no way he'd be able to fix this with the parts he had back at his place, which meant his only option was hoping Burt had at least one spare engine he'd be willing to let Tyler cannibalise, and that whatever he could cobble together would hold through the summer. Of course, the first thing he had to do was get the truck back to town.

Pointedly commenting about shitty-ass trucks that had the nerve to break down so far from town, Tyler grabbed his backpack off the passenger seat. He'd never make it back to Perfection before sundown, and although El Blanco wasn't so much of a worry for him these days, God and mad scientists alone knew what other Mixmaster enhanced nasties were waiting for unsuspecting people at night. So, Rosalita's it was, then. He could make it to the farm in a couple of hours, throw himself on Rosalita's mercy, crash in her spare room for the night and hitch a lift into town with her in the morning.

Tyler had been walking for about an hour, with the sun dropping slightly in the sky, when his wrist seismo beeped, signalling the telltale dust cloud that was coming closer with each second.

"Took you long enough," he murmured with a grin, carrying on walking as the ground beneath him rumbled gently and the large pile of earth stopped several feet in front of him, disgorging El Blanco.

"Y'know, a guy could think you were ignoring him, since I was out here a whole hour before you turned up," Tyler teased.

Blanco whuffled softly.

"Truck broke down," Tyler explained. "I'm going to crash at Rosalita's and grab a lift in the morning."

Tyler grinned as the whuffling increased. Even though Blanco had stopped eating Rosalita's livestock, he always seemed to get a little more excited whenever the farm was mentioned. Tyler was pretty sure he still had fond memories of munching his way through the entire herd that one time when Rosalita and Harlowe had both been in Bixby. He even found it kind of cute, the way Blanco quivered and chittered with glee, not that he was ever planning on mentioning that fact to either Blanco or Rosalita.

"You walking with me?" Tyler asked, looking forward to the company.

Blanco just snorted as he wrapped a tongue around Tyler's wrist and tugged gently, stopping Tyler from walking more than a couple of steps.

Now, as much as Tyler was up for a little playtime, he really wanted to get to the farm before sundown came. "Blanco, quit it, I need to get to 'Lita's before dark."

The only answer Tyler got was Blanco's tongue tightening around his wrist slightly, the tugging becoming more insistent as the other two tongues started to run over Tyler's body, grinding against Tyler's jean-clad ass.

Tyler bit his lower lip. It wasn't as though he didn't have some time. Rosalita's was only another hour away, and there was at least three hours of daylight left. And it had been a while. Between the tours and the Government and Melvin trying to get everyone out of the valley by attempting to poison Blanco again, they'd just gone from crisis to crisis and before Tyler knew it the regular, fantastic and downright athletic sex they'd been having had dwindled to Blanco diving into town for five minutes and a quick tonguejob behind the garage. Which just hadn't been doing anything for either of them.

Even Burt had noticed it, commenting that Blanco had eaten far too many tourists recently and making sneaky comments about boyfriends who shouldn't be so willing to see their partners frustrated and maybe what they could do with was some spicing up. Tyler had just snapped that his and Blanco's sex life was just fine, thank you very much, and left before Jodi could whip out the catalogue she'd picked up at that new shop that had opened in Bixby again. (She'd sworn that she hadn't realised what kind of shop it was, but Tyler still hadn't worked up the courage to ask her exactly what she thought they'd be selling in a shop called The Pleasure Palace.)

Blanco whuffled again, one of his tongue snaking under Tyler's shirt and running across his belly.

"Okay, okay!" Tyler laughed, squirming at the soft tickling of Blanco's tongue. "I guess I don't have to be at Rosalita's straight away."

The amused undertone of Blanco's reply was obvious as he started nibbling at Tyler's belt.

"I lose more belts this way--" Tyler murmured, gently knocking Blanco's tongue away and quickly undoing his belt and jeans before Blanco could shred them in his quest to get to Tyler's skin.

Tyler had barely gotten the last button on his jeans open when Blanco's tongues were back, sliding inside and running over skin.

"Patience, babe!" Tyler laughed as he shimmied out of his jeans, hopping as he tugged his boots off and his legs were finally free. "We've got--" The words cut off as a tongue slid between Tyler's ass cheeks and brushed over his asshole, causing an "oh god--" to escape his lips.

Responding to the gasp, Blanco swept his tongue over Tyler's ass again and again.

Tyler arched, knuckles turning white as he gripped Blanco's leathery hide, squirming with each pass the tongue made across his hole. "Backpack--" The word barely audible above the heavy breaths. "Lube--" Because if there was anything Tyler had learned since coming to Perfection it was to never walk across the desert without lube handy. Not when Blanco had a habit of just turning up and there was nothing worse than needing to be filled right the fuck now and finding out that although Blanco's saliva was a lot slicker than a human's, there was still some interesting friction that happened without a shit-load of Astroglide. And while there were times when Tyler was all for the interesting friction at times, sometimes all he needed was for Blanco to slick on up and slide on in. Times like right now.

The tongue running over his back disappeared for a moment, and a thud next to him heralded the arrival of Tyler's backpack.

Dropping to his knees, Tyler cursed when the pocket the lube should have been in yielded nothing. "Damn it," he growled, his cock throbbing as he started to rifle through the backpack. "Come on, come on, come on--" he chanted, words changing into a moan as Blanco started to nibble on his buttocks, small, biting caresses getting closer to where he needed them.

"I-- oh god, jesus fuck--" One of Blanco's tongues was back against his asshole, nudging too gently to push inside, and where the fucking hell was the lube?

"Yes!" His fingers closed around the tube that had somehow made it to the bottom of his pack. Flicking the top open as he pulled it out of the pack, Tyler squirted some of the lube onto his fingers.

Tyler reached out for Blanco as he spread his knees, grateful for the steadying tongue Blanco wrapped around his wrist as he pressed his other hand against his ass, slick fingers sliding inside him. Biting his lip against the initial burn, Tyler pushed back against his fingers, cock twitching as he roughly stretched himself.

Blanco whined, his tongue tightening around Tyler's wrist as another pushed against the hand at his ass.

"Jesus--" Tyler arched as Blanco's tongue slid inside next to his fingers. "Jesus, fuck, Blanco--" Pulling his fingers out of his ass, Tyler fell forward, hands grasping for Blanco.

Slowly, Blanco's tongue moved in and out of Tyler's body, thick and filling.

"Oh god, Blanco, I--" But the words dried up, stuck in Tyler's throat. Because it had been too long and it was too much and it wasn't enough and oh god--

"More--" Because the word wouldn't stay inside Tyler any longer.

Blanco's tongue unwrapped itself from Tyler's wrist, moving across his back as he pulled Tyler closer, anchoring him fully against the solid body of the graboid. Anchoring him as Blanco's other tongue moved up Tyler's leg and over his ass, moved to press against the other already fucking in and out of Tyler's body.

There was part of him that wanted to stop this, wanted to say it was too much, that he couldn't take it, but it was drowned out by the rest of him, hot and wanting and needing El Blanco in him completely.

The second tongue pushed carefully against his ass, barely dipping inside and teeth nibbling at the rim of Tyler's asshole. Tyler's cock jumped with each movement, jumped with each tiny bite one tongue was giving him and with each brush against his prostate from the other.

"Please-" he begged, balls tight and heavy and nearly there. "Fuck, Blanco, please--"

The words had barely died in the air when Blanco pushed into him, second tongue sliding against the first and Tyler stretched around them both, full and complete. His fingers pressed into Blanco's skin as he gasped, hips moving and cock dragging over Blanco, leaving trails of pre-come in its wake.

Blanco huffed softly, breath ghosting over Tyler's sweat-slick skin. And Tyler could feel it coming, tongues fucking into him and earthy scent of Blanco's body all rushing towards him.

"I--"

Only he didn't need to ask, didn't need anything as one of the tongues pressed against his prostate and sucked, gently, carefully. The silence of the valley shattered as Tyler screamed, orgasm crashing into him and cock jerking wildly as he painted Blanco with white stripes, balls emptying and vision greying on the edges before black.

The ground was sort of soft beneath him as Tyler came around, sky darker than he could last recall it being and pretty sure that was a stone sticking in his asscheek. His ass felt sore and empty and well-fucked, and he doubted if he'd be sitting comfortably for a while.

Blanco was a softly snoring mass next to him and the sun was dipping rapidly.

Well, fuck.

He'd never make it to Rosalita's before dark now.

Which meant the only thing to do was to go with plan b and grab the thermal blanket out of his pack, use Blanco as a life-size pillow and get to the farm early the next morning. Well, there were worse ways to spend the night, Tyler thought, settling the blanket over them. And, pressing back against Blanco's body, he let the gentle purring running through the graboid lull him into sleep.

End

tremors: tyler/el blanco, tremors: fic, writing: kink bingo

Previous post Next post
Up