Happy Accidents

Title: Happy Accidents
Fandom: Wrong Turn, The Hills Have Eyes (2006)
Genre: General
Rating: R - NC-17 for language and graphic sexual situations
Warnings: slash, mpreg

There's the warning. And the general outlook. Hope this is enjoyed. Or not, whatever. Reviews would be nice.

***

Three Finger had to admit he preferred his beloved forests over his new home. While the desert had it advantages, such as a lack of insects and competitive animals, it was often too warm for his tastes, made worse by the drastic chill of the night. He also missed the trees and the vast array of rock formations could never replace rich green canopies or fiery autumn wonderlands. At least the desert was drier. But drier meant fewer trees.
But he could not do much about the situation, if at all. Three Finger had no say in his current position. Should he try to return home, he would be taken away by authorities. Taken from freedom, from what little he had left. He would never be able to visit his family’s resting place again and if that security meant giving up his forests, it was a necessary sacrifice.
Besides, if he were gone, who would look after Lizard?
Lizard would never admit that he needed help, Three Finger mused cheerfully to himself as he trotted down the craggy hill towards the barren test village he now called home. Dragging a pair of limp jackrabbits with him, he thought back on a moment only two weeks ago when he helped Lizard descend the slope of this very hill. Normally, the sun-dried man who was equal to Three Finger in agility would have no trouble, but as he found out in slowly passing moons, his body had betrayed him. Though he accepted the fellow hunter’s assistance, Lizard was understandably irate with needing help in the first place.
His shrinking physical prowess left the desert dweller with no choice but to remain indoors. Nothing pleased him more than joining in a good hunt (except perhaps engaging in a good poke), but like Three Finger, he had no choice but to accept the situation as best he could. So while his forest loving mate ventured out to survey the territory and retrieve food, Lizard kept to himself like a hermit and only got up most of the time to relieve himself.
Most of the time Three Finger had no doubts about his mate’s ability to take care of himself. However, his health was not the best it could be. Thought doing well for someone in his position, it was still a taxing ordeal for him.
Three Finger knew he was partly to blame for that.
Letting the rickety screen door bang against the wall as it swung effortlessly open, the rake-thin hunter practically pranced into the kitchen, dropped the rabbit carcasses onto a greasy countertop, and proceeded into the living room. To his bewilderment, Lizard was not there. His puzzlement was brief, as he surmised his mate was taking a piss or a dump. Thus, he continued on down the hall, towards the bathroom.
“Three Finger, that you?” the familiar voice, filled with gravel, sounded from behind a closed door. The voice’s owner was rewarded with a very welcome melodious giggle. The voice proceeded to sigh. It was a funny, reassured sort of sound.
“Good, now git yer bony ass in her an’ help me up!”
The giggling increased as the gangly hunter opened the door. Three Finger poked his head through the opening, chortling in childish glee as he ducked away the moment he saw the glowering chapped face. For a second time he peeked in and squeaked, hiding once again. Lizard, however, was far from pleased.
“Wouldjoo quit fuckin’ around already an’ help me??” he barked.
Lizard’s mood did not affect the other man. Throwing the door open, the skinny hunter bounded across the long narrow room and threw his spindly arms around his mate’s neck, kissing and licking the sunburnt face. Lizard finally gave in after less than a minute of the ridiculously affectionate display and leant his head against that of Three Finger, finally surrendering to a lop-sided cleft smile.
“Yeah, how yuh doin’?” he muttered as the other hunter continued to laugh and kiss.
“You git some supper?” his growling voice asked tiredly.
Three Finger’s newly learnt grasp of the English language was still limited, but his response sounded very close to “uh huh”. Lizard smirked, his far more abundant teeth gleaming in the window light.
“Okay then, hup we go.”
Hooking a taut, skinny arm behind Lizard’s back, Three Finger grunted as he lifted the cumbersome figure off the toilet. Lizard was heavy now and unsteady on his feet, but the limbs wrapped around his waist kept a grip of iron, even as they awkwardly lifted and fastened his pants. Resting a grateful arm over the more able man, the desert dweller hobbled along towards the door. Normally neither man cared about leaving the bathroom door open or closed, but recently Lizard felt slightly more at ease with that one bit of separation. Perhaps he had finally reached a point where he felt insecure, or perhaps his nature as a loner was renewed. Either way, Lizard kept the bathroom door closed. Three Finger saw no point, really; there was nothing he had not seen before…
There was just more of it.
Guiding his mate down the hallway, he lead him in to the living room, where the sun baked looking man finally eased his heavy, currently rounder form into a decrepit sofa. Three Finger was clearly in the mood for intimacy and knelt beside his mate, nuzzling the chapped red throat, but Lizard held the fellow hunter at arm’s length, lifting an eyebrow.
“Little shit’s askin’ fer supper,” he rasped, “better git to it b’fore he kicks a hole in me.”
Grinning like a mad jackal, Three Finger gave Lizard’s globelike belly a quick pat before he sprinted off to the kitchen. Seconds later, a loud whack sounded an then the predictable ka-thunk of a jackrabbit’s lopped off head landing in a garbage bin. The same fate followed for the next rabbit.
The smell of fresh blood lit the air around Lizard with a spicy tinge that fired his senses like a powder keg. Nearly as good as the hot, musky stink of a female’s junk. Inhaling the delicious air caused any thoughts of agitation to slip away from Lizard’s mind and he went limp on the ratty cushions of the sofa. Someone else seemed to enjoy the smell equally and wriggled about inside the massive swell that was the man’s stomach.
Three Finger did not take long with preparing supper. Lately occasion had called for rare meat and the scrawny man did not mind, as he enjoyed his food practically still flinching. Lizard’s stomach growled monstrously, almost as though the little one inside was proving their shared hunger.
“About time,” Lizard remarked playfully when he saw the steaming bloody platter. “He’s ‘bout to chew his way out!”
His mate’s malformed smile widened even further over dried lips and thick pink gums. Gleefully, Three Finger laid the plate on a tray, blackened and splintered, and carefully placed the meal on the reclining man’s expectant bulge. Lizard only rolled his eyes and proceeded to consume the dripping red treat, while the other man sat on the floor, legs crossed, gnawing happily on a small skinned leg as though it were a chicken drumstick.
Sucking on his reddened fingers, Lizard ended up, as expected, making quite a mess of himself. The dripping meal now decorated his bony chest and hands, and the slathered red tongue could barely clean off his misshapen lips, and the equally crimson oily teeth which jutted impressively from his cleft palate. Trying to clean himself only spread the blood and grease around further.
No problem. His mate was still parched.
A pink, wet tongue fell out of the hungry jaws and drifted slowly over Lizard’s now deeper red skin, savouring the sweet mix of rabbit’s blood and his mate’s sweat. The sensation of Three Finger’s tongue kick started the perspiration once more. A grunt escaped Lizard’s split lips as he tilted his head back, giving the eager mouth more access to his heavenly taste. He still continued to lick and suck on his bony fingers as his bloodied torso was explored.
Giving an amused chortle, Three Finer watched a thin scarlet hand run over the otherwise unmarked round belly. A long wide streak was left behind, as though a garnet coloured snail had travelled across the circular, unwieldy curve. Immediately the forest dweller’s mouth opened and followed the trail of blood, tongue sweeping back and forth like a paintbrush. He felt a push against his lips and he giggled. Clearly the pup liked it too.
Lizard, however, was displeased. He frowned in discomfort at the prominent kick to his insides and struggled to sit up. With a strong, familiar, wiry arm against his back, he managed to pull his body forward and the plate fell to the floor, currently ignored.
“Git behind me,” the man ordered quietly.
Three Finger followed the command without hesitation, easing his skinny frame into a sitting position behind his mate. They had done this several times in the past and were quite familiar with the routine. With his legs resting at Lizard’s sides, he gently pulled the man against him as he sat back, letting the full weight of the currently heavier hunter rest against him. Eager misshapen hands rested on the bulge which had been thriving for about eight moons now. As he stroked and rubbed the bundle of unborn life, he heard Lizard sigh again and snuggle into him. Three Finger, despite his lean form, made an excellent pillow.
Their stomachs full of rabbit meat, the pair of hunters eventually made their way upstairs, proven to be a slower process due to Lizard’s physical capability. They had discussed moving a bed down to the ground level floor, but Lizard would hear none of it. Always refusing to accept his weakness… Three Finger could remember early on in the time his mate was with child, back when his condition was barely visible. Even after days on end of retching up his meals, he still insisted on joining in the hunts. He was found one sweltering afternoon unconscious and dehydrated. A lesson had been severely learnt, but Lizard still refused accepting his weakness on certain occasions, such as now.
His hold firm but tender, Three Finger lowered his mate’s cumbersome form on a king sized bed which once belonged to Papa Jupiter. The assistance of these motions was accepted only because he awaited what came next with great anticipation.
Lizard preferred being on top no matter who his sexual partner was, but he was sadly unable to comply with his own wishes. Even approaching Three Finger from behind or having him ride his dick like a wild stallion could not be done without causing some sort of backache now, or the annoyance of his stomach getting in the way. However, Three Finger seemed to be forming an idea in his deeply scarred skull, and he guided his mate onto his back.
“What’re you up to?” the prostrate man inquired, heavy lidded eyes watching the other hunter warily.
Three Finger of course did not answer, but only snickered, licking his currently drool covered lips. His true response was the way his trademark left hand slid over the curve of Lizard’s bulging midsection until it met with an entirely different bulge. Peeling back what layers of clothing were left on the rounded form before him, he reached down and cupped the exposed genitals which were already throbbing.
Lizard gave a small gasp and his grinding voice became a whisper.
“Lower… oh fuck… lower…” he hissed.
So Three Finger’s hand indeed went lower until it found the one place which needed to be touched. The sharp moan coming from Lizard was proof enough that he had struck gold. Slowly the mass of bone and skin which never fully developed into a middle and ring finger was inserted into the soft pale flesh behind Lizard’s scrotum, where it was gratefully received. Deep within the folds of moist warmth a hole lay hidden, and already it was wet enough that Three Finger could withdraw his digits and lick the juice.
The split lip pulled back over Lizard’s crooked teeth even further and his fists collected the stained bed sheets as he writhed about.
“Do it again,” he practically begged.
Licking his lips again, Three Finger obeyed and was answered with another moan which cut through the air like one of the men’s knives.
Lizard’s dick twitched prominently into a full erection like nothing at all. Yes, now he was ready for a good hot fuck, and his mate knew it too. Three Finger was practically humming in satisfaction.
“Three Finger,” his mate growled with uncertainty, “we can’t do it like this.”
“Ch’s meh.”
Lizard was not sure, but he had a feeling the fellow hunter was trying to say “trust me”. Maybe Three Finger was just imitating certain words like a small child. Or maybe a parrot… although sometimes it seemed the forest native understood English far better than Lizard was anywhere close to understanding… whatever the hell his mate was usually saying.
What the hell was the man hovering above him up to anyway?? He could not ride his prostrate lover, nor penetrate him without a big belly getting in the way, and Lizard certainly was not going to get up when he was already comfortable. Three Finger licked a craggy red cheek as though in reassurance and began to remove his own clothes.
Once his dingy overalls had been shed from his skinny frame, Three Finger proceeded to turn around on his bony knees, his tight slender rump up in the air for perfect display. Well… they sure as hell never tried this position before. Spitting and slobbering all over his well formed, almost perfect right hand, the kneeling man reached down between his thighs, taking the hard, throbbing organ of his mate and greasing it down with saliva tainted with the remains of their food. He did this two more times before finally pulling his hand away and replacing it with the snug, hot depth of his hole. The position was almost like one they enjoyed in the past, except in previous attempts Lizard would have been kneeling over as Three Finger stood on hands and knees. The sensation was almost better this way, at the angle on which the scrawny man rested, the slight halves of his bottom touching the base of Lizard’s cock.
Both now grunting like animals, they found themselves in a steady rhythm. Lizard pumped as best he could due to the weight holding him down and Three Finger bucked his hips in time with the thrusts. The rhythm became so intense that Three Finger’s rump was practically slapping against Lizard’s curved stomach. The two men were howling like dogs when they came and Three Finger could feel the hot squirt of seed not only entering his hole, but also spilling between his fingers. Teasingly sucking the salty juice from his hand, his movements shaky and boneless, he pulled himself apart from the now limp member and crawled over to Lizard. He affectionately nuzzled the other man’s throat again and gave a gentle lick, but the sun-dried face turned away. Lizard had no intent in cuddling, as usual. He just wanted to sleep.
Three Finger was not very surprised. In fact, what surprised him more was that Lizard fucked him anymore at all. Their situation really was his fault, he considered. However, how could he have known that Lizard was built the way he was? Why did the desert dweller think the two of them fucking was a good idea in the first place?? An extra hole between one’s legs was not normally something which went unnoticed. Three Finger had been so horny that night that he assumed he was pumping into Lizard’s ass. Either way, he had remembered no complaints then. But then again, Lizard had been stinking drunk.
At present time, the story was very different. Lizard had been nearly treated like a king at every turn, but despite the patience and courtesy shown, he still had reasons to be unhappy. Even so, the question was never spoken concerning the fate of their little one. Lizard knew the importance of family, and of survival. With both of their kin buried and burnt, they otherwise only had each other.
Secretly, Three Finger was glad of his mate’s sense of value.
Brushing his fingers through the unkempt, greying hair, he waited for some sort of response, even a “go the fuck away.” But Lizard said nothing, and only rolled back on his side. Three Finger took the hint and sombrely rose from the bed, picking up his clothes as he went. His mate asked for no help when he tried to move a cushion under his bloated abdomen, but help was given anyway. Lizard sniffed indignantly as though he had not noticed the gesture and lowered his head against the pillows. Bare footsteps faded down the hallway.
The sun would be going down in three hours, and thankfully the house faced East. Lizard listened closely from his place on the bed as Three Finger wandered about the house and finally retired to the adjacent bedroom. That bedroom was originally Lizard’s but Three Finger insisted the use of Jupiter’s room, where the bed was much more comfortable. The man with the cleft palate could still smell their leader on the cushions beneath his head.
All gone. They were all gone. Even Papa Jupe’s little gem, Ruby. But Lizard could blame no one but himself. She may have always been in the way, but she was a sweet little thing.
Now she was dead like the rest of them.
Like Three Finger’s family. And his own sweet little thing. Lizard remembered finding the fellow hunter dragging two large corpses through the hills almost a year ago. In his mismatched arms was a small bundle, barely making a sound. Lizard had a feeling she was getting more water than her father. Even so, she did not last long after they found shelter and sustenance. Never would the desert native forget the way his future companion and mate held the pup as she struggled with her last breath.
The two larger bodies, as well as the pup, were set afire that night and buried in the dry earth. Three Finger had urged they eat his family in order to fully honour their memory, but Lizard warily declines. He could eat his prey, but family was an entirely different matter. Sometimes he wondered if his new friend had ever truly healed from the loss.
He certainly was excited about their new arrival, that much was positive. Perhaps Lizard’s ability to conceive had filled his companion with hope. They could both rebuild a clan of their own, starting with their pup.
Suddenly Lizard’s thoughts of his dead family reminded him of that cold feeling he still had every now and then in the pit of his stomach. That dead, biting feeling that kept him thinking about how alone he was. No one but he was left. He might have put a bullet through his skull if he did not discover Three Finger wandering in the desert with his dwindling family and strangling thirst. In that sense, he was grateful. He needed Three Finger more than he would admit.
And he needed him now.
Giving a grunt of discomfort, he awkwardly righted himself onto his back and he broke into a sweat just from the mere effort in the heat of the afternoon. Panting, he lifted his voice so that it would carry down the hall.
“Three Finger,” he called out. His voice sounded more pleading than he meant it to be. Rustling of furniture and clothing arose and the skinny man ambled out of his room and through the door, chattering anxiously.
“Come ‘ere an’ lay down,” Lizard said, arm outstretched. “Come on.”
Once again Three Finger obeyed without a moment of consideration. He practically scampered onto the large bed like a puppy and sidled up next to his mate, nuzzling and giggling as usual.
“Shut up,” Lizard snarled. “Just stay here, okay?”
Three Finger noticed something different in the fellow hunter’s tone and expression when he was pulled by sunburnt arms into a concrete embrace. He almost looked sad, but not quite melancholy. Distracted perhaps, even upset. He was even snuggling into his thinner mate, which was indeed a very rare thing to witness.
“Rub my belly,” Lizard said in a tired, wanton voice.
A deformed left hand landed upon the heavy swell and Lizard gave a deep sigh, very faintly tainted with a satisfied moan. When Three Finger began to massage the globelike bulge, he felt a warm wet tongue against his throat and found himself smiling. Lizard’s deformity did not permit him the ability to kiss, and even if he could, he was not of the character to show affection. Thus his mate felt very privileged. After what they had been through – after what Lizard had gone through – there were no ill feelings between them.
“Baby?” Three Finger offered with surprising intelligibility. Lizard sighed at first, but gave a slow smile and put his hand over that stroking his belly. What felt like a small foot or hand pushed against their touch.
“Baby,” Lizard confirmed.

The End.