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The promise rings true to both of them this match. ‘Next time no freebies.’
Even if Alex didn’t know that’s what the Trapper had in mind, he could feel it tingling up his spine as soon as his eyes fluttered open to the new location that was most certainly not the survivor’s cabin. No warmth of a fire, no friends sitting close by.
Upon first glance around, he can see the top of someone’s head over the side of one of the compact car piles. Another survivor meant he knows he’s been chosen again for another chase. Another stupid trial that would prove fruitless in their efforts to escape.
Yet, the air feels...feels familiar. Proven just that when his eyes land on a nearby bear trap, not yet opened.
Wonderful.
The surroundings were a familiar place- the Junkyard, as they all called it. Open with a gas station that no longer ran, despite its flashing neon light up in the sky. The food inside the convenience store was all expired or plastic, just another ploy set by the Entity to lure them closer with the familiarity of home. Same with the allure of a protected room featuring a generator and only one exit and entrance.
The entire location was open, easy to see except through the thick fog near the ground. The tree brush was the safest location, but Alex knew better than to linger there. Thick grass made bear traps easy to hide.
Made for easy prey.
A thrill runs down his spine, memories of a thick man splitting him open and snarling in his ear. Much better than the hook, he’s sure. However, he couldn’t be so sure that the killer known as ‘The Trapper’ was going to be such an easy lay again and let him off with a warning. Who’s to say he wasn’t pissed for Alex running off last time?
A smirk threatens his lips. Cocky and full of confidence.
He knows he’s a good lay. The Trapper would want him back and he’d get away Scott free again with a pleasant burn between his thighs. A simple, quick, private romp and all four survivors would be back and could rest up after a successful match.
Except, that’s not...exactly how it happens.
The Trapper does find Alex, oh yes. Finds him sneaking by towards the gas station and out the back window, hoping to divert the killer’s attention to him. It works, just, not like how Alex plans.
He plays the flirt card when he sees the glowing pair of orange eyes from his mask come closer. “What? Couldn’t stay away?” His tease is playful, lighthearted even.
The brisk pace from the killer is not.
In fact, he sees the Trapper’s grip tighten on the handle of his most beloved weapon and he stiffens up.
Not happy to see him it seems.
Quick as ever on his toes, he skirts around the edges of danger before taking off just as he hears the swipe of a blade through the air. A grunt of annoyance rings behind him followed by a feral growl and every hair stands on end for him.
Shit.
This would NOT be the time for his first time to be hooked. Alex couldn’t let something as simple as hope for a good fuck again make him forget why he was here! To survive.
To win.
It’s a good run, he’ll give the Trapper that much. He dodges him seamlessly- at least, that’s what Alex thinks.
The hard thump of boots behind him shows that he’s catching up, but he’s not swinging again. There’s no sound of a blade behind him, there’s no sound of much of anything besides the loud heartbeat in his ears.
Of course, he’s being led like a sheep to slaughter and he doesn’t even know it.
Alex laughs, goes to taunt as he rears around the corner of crushed cars. Taking one fatal step.
The loud clank of the trap is the first thing he hears before the piercing pain stabs into his ankle and makes his eyes widen. He screams, much like any normal person would with the jaws made for a bear sinking into you.
Pain is the first feeling, then fear when he instinctively drops to his knee to try and yank the trap free. Then even more fear once Alex realizes what that soft noise is behind him once his heartbeat becomes a dull noise in the background.
Heavy breathing.
Of a killer.
Right behind him.
--
That’s how he ends up here. In present time, spread out on a killer’s cock and trying so hard not to cry out.
The Trapper had wound up taking him from that trap, slamming a hand over his mouth as he carried Alex towards the more open part of the map near the gas station. Sitting upon a smaller box of crushed cars and dragging Alex into his lap with a grunt and a growl to keep him still.
It didn’t take much to wind him up, and it didn’t take much until he was sinking down onto a thick, large cock and reaching behind himself to grab at the larger of the killers. His own cock erect and clothes torn from the waist down and thrown onto the dirt in front of him. Left in a shirt and jacket with the Trapper fully dressed save for his overalls unbuckled and shifted down to mid-thigh to leave room for his dick.
Quick and dirty, Alex thought.
Out in the open, the cool breeze filters across Alex’s skin. The noises of horror heard around them echoing followed by wind and the soft bumping and grinding of generators throughout the place.
And Alex? Well, Alex was sitting pretty in the lap of danger.
His hole is stretched out, burning around the ache and pain of having such a thick, fat dick inside of him. The crudely supplied lube and half assed stretching didn’t help much, but he’d admit, he kinda liked it better like this.
IF he wasn’t, you know, out in the open where any of his fellow survivors could see him.
A low groan bubbles in his throat as he reaches down to rest a hand over his abdomen. Feeling the shape of the Trapper inside of him through the taut flesh there just before his arms are snatched back in one hand. Held tight and back against his chest as harsh, heavy breaths fall into Alex’s ear.
A reminder to stay still.
The worst part is the Trapper doesn’t even move, not until a generator is set off with a pleasant noise through the air and the light goes on. Further in front of them past more crushed, compact cars. Alex can only pray they don’t turn the corner.
That’s when the fucker moves.
It’s small humps at first. One hand keeps Alex’s arms behind his back, the other rests on the curve of his side underneath his clothing. Using his body to push upwards then back down like nothing more than a toy. He fights back every groan bubbling from his throat, but he can’t help it.
A whine leaves his throat just as he feels his own cock give a jerk to the rough treatment he’s receiving. Untouched and willing.
As if praising the noise, the hand resting on his side comes up, cupping the side of his chest underneath his shirt and thumbing at his sensitive nipple.
The Trapper seems to growl in approval when Alex’s body lurches sharply, pulling up into the killer’s hand and then pushing back so he slides back down onto his cock. Causing them both to make respective noises.
Tears well up in his eyes, knowing if he said anything, did anything, it would only make the Trapper make this worse. Not to mention for his fellow survivors to come looking to see what said noises were being brought upon.
Otherwise he had quite the mouthful to say.
Normally bratty and full of too much bravery, he’s at a loss for words. Being rocked back and forth on the killer’s thick cock, feeling warmth spreading in his abdomen as his own cock bounces to each movement.
The worst part is knowing eyes are looking at him actively. He can feel the pin prick of it up his spine as he throws his head back with a theatrical whine, stiffening up and shaking on the Trapper’s lap as he cums with only a few more rocks resting right on his sweet spot.
He’s not even given the dignity of just cumming. The Trapper’s hand comes and cups over the head of his cock as he cums, letting the warmth of it splatter against his rough, calloused palm.
Only to lift it up to Alex’s face and growling in his ear as a warning until the man leans forward and starts licking up his own mess. Slow, deliberate sweeps of his tongue across the salty palm. Whimpering when his wrists are released only to have both hands rest on his hips. Lifting him up and dropping him like nothing more than a toy.
He probably deserved it, mouthy brat.
At some point there’s almost enough generators running and he’s cum twice. Delirious as he’s moved around to face the Trapper. Face buried into his chest and fingers clutching his overalls in desperation as the killer fucks up into his ass. Hips slapping wetly against his ass and his own cock rubbing up against the rough body of the Trapper. He’s sure he’ll be humiliated after this, but all he can think of selfishly is feeling cum inside of.
And he gets it- oh he gets it. Too much cum spilling into him. The snarls of the Trapper whose lap he rested upon. Feeling crescent shapes be pressed into his skin and bruises forming as he’s held still and filled with the stiff, jerking sensation emptying into his abdomen.
They all survive. Generators running and lights on.
How strange, Claudette had said, she hadn’t seen the killer all match!
Agreed, Laurie had said with concern in her eyes.
And poor, poor Dwight, who couldn’t make eye contact with Alex again.
At least, not until Alex could walk straight again.