A Twink & a Trucker Survive the Was

A Twink & a Trucker Survive The Wasteland - Chapter 1

*****

'Alright, here we are. Crow's Nest,' Trucker pulled into the small township, slowing the truck he was driving into a lower gear. He was a large hairy beast of a man, towering over six feet six in height, thick beard, both burly and muscular, late 30s. He intimidated most with his furrowed expression and various scars that ran across his body from previous encounters and brawls.

The village was set on the edge of a tall cliff overlooking The Wasteland, hence its name as it gave a full view of the barren, endless desert that lay waste below, covering the vast land as far as the eye could see.

'Last bastion of civilisation before The Wasteland. Last chance to turn back. Only those insane enough traverse its wicked, barren environment,' Mech chattered behind in the truck, staring out the window excitedly, both fear and wonder coming across his voice.

'Pipe down, Mech,' Trucker called back to the excitable mechanic. 'You're creeping me the fuck out. This ain't my first rodeo, and it ain't yours, so calm it, please.'

'Sorry, boss,' Mech looked away from the window and returned to his work on the table, pulling some goggles over his eyes as he soldered some metal. He always had some type of gizmo or gadget he was working on. He was a short, stout man in his fifties, with large eyes not helped by his goggles. He had calloused hands from working metal and other materials for years, but he was also a brilliant mind - the smartest guy Trucker had ever met. He had a way with science, technology and could repair almost anything. It's what made him the perfect member of the crew.

Trucker loved Mech dearly, they'd both been on missions together for years, but he had to admit, sometimes Mech's excitable personality grated on him, and he had to give the lay of the land.

The juggernaut of a vehicle passed small shops selling their wears to those who dared set out on a journey across The Wasteland - food, weapons, junk, medicines, anything they could. There were inns for people to lay their head before setting off, or providing rest to those who had managed to make it across the barren desert that lay below and to the safe arms of Crow's Nest.

The truck groaned past tall towers that were dotted around the perimeter fence of Crow's Nest. Trucker reached his hand out the window and saluted as they went by. People carrying binoculars and guns on the lookout in the towers stared at them, some nodding, others looking suspiciously, most more interested in the valley below, making sure any travellers headed towards them were scrutinised miles before to see whether they were friend or foe.

Trucker brought the great honking truck to a stop at a gas station. He got up from his seat and lumbered through the inside of the truck, walking down the long length of the interior. The inside had a place to sit, compartments with beds to rest, Mech had his own section for doing his mechanical work and repairs, there was a kitchen, a weapons room, restroom, storage for food, petrol, materials and other equipment, as well as the huge trailer it pulled which stored their delivery - the reason why they were setting out across The Wasteland in the first place.

'We gotta fill her up with petrol and get extra for the trip, it's gonna take a while. Why don't you stretch your legs, get something to eat and rest your head. We leave at dawn.'

'Right-o boss,' Mech looked up from his hammering and gave Trucker the thumbs up.

Both men disembarked from the truck, setting themselves on the gritty solid ground of the station. The juggernaut of a truck stood towering over them, strong, protective metal cladding wrapped around its frame, huge tires made sure it could withstand the wasteland, and there were spikes to prevent attacks and grates to get through any tough environments.

Two bikers clad in protective black leather from head-to-toe revved as they pulled the bikes they were riding in beside them - the Moon brothers, the two other members of the crew. The men were equipped with all types of guns, knives and weapons across their body, that they could grab in an instant if needed.

They parked their large impressive bikes in the station. The bikes had spikes on them, large wheels that were tough and could withstand the desertous land below and had protective guards that shielded the mechanical workings of the engines underneath.

The two bikers took off their bone helmets, revealing a pair of brothers, one with crimson hair, the other with navy. They made a striking visual contrast. Otherwise, both men were similar in build - silm, muscular, handsome, just under 6 feet tall, nimble, in their late 20s.

'Fancy seeing you here,' Red said.

'It's been ages,' Blue added.

The brothers were known for their humour, always bouncing off one another.

Sometimes they got on Trucker's nerves, but he had to admit, their lightheartedness and humour was a welcome, especially out there in the lonely wasteland.

Plus, and more importantly, the pair were two of the best shots in the wastelands, with eagle-eye sight from miles away, razor sharp accuracy with their shots, and nimble driving skills on their bikes, they could do things as they drove that were unimaginable to any else. They were invaluable assets to the crew.

'Alright lads,' Trucker clapped both of them on their backs. 'You know the drill, fuel up, have a rest, eat, we're gone by sunrise.'

'Sound as a whistle boss,' Blue nodded.

'Why is a whistle the epitome of sound?' Red wondered.

'It makes a sound.'

'That doesn't answer my question.'

'Well the technical theory is...' Mech chimed in.

Trucker shook his head as he left the crew to their debate, walking over to the station attendant.

'Hey Trucker, sight for sore eyes,' Oil smiled a wrinkled face. He was an old man who'd worked in refinery his whole life. 'How goes it?'

'Good to see you my old friend,' Trucker gave the old man a hug, stooping low to hold the man in a warm embrace.

'What you delivering this time?' Oil nodded to the truck.

'Medical supplies to Eden City in the east,' Trucker replied. 'There's a factory in Gaia that produces medicine from rare plants only found in the Western Jungles, will save tens of thousands of lives in the east, maybe more, there's a sickness spreading and this is the only way to help.'

'True saviour you are, Trucker,' Oil padded him on the arm.

Trucker guffed. 'I'm just the messenger, and I still need to get there. I'll let you call me that if I make it back.'

'When you do,' Oil corrected him.

'Anyway, we'll need to fill her up,' Trucker nodded to the truck as he pulled away. 'Plus the bikes, and extra barrels of fuel as well, please, Oil,' Trucker handed a stack of money to Oil. 'Plus a little extra for yourself,' he winked.

'Ah, I couldn't Trucker,' Oil tried to return the tip, but Trucker refused. 'You're too good to me,' Oil shook his head, pocketing the money.

'You know I owe you more than money, gold, or guns can count,' Trucker smiled a knowing grin.

'Ah, it ain't how it used to be in the old days. Now it's so hard to just get by,' Oil took in his gas station, his business, and then looked off in the distance, a certain sadness to his demeanor. 'I appreciate it Trucker, I'd have retired long ago if I could, but you gotta find some way to put food on the table.'

Trucker just stared at the old man, looking at the eyes that held so much wisdom, that had seen so many people come and go over the decades, the brawls he'd seen, the people he'd had to defend himself against from robbery. It wasn't easy out here on the edge of civilisation. Trucker was only too well aware of it. There was an unspoken understanding between anyone who passed by Crow's Nest.

'Anyway, ignore me going on. I'll get those filled up for you,' Oil whistled and two young men ran out of the gas station and started filling up the vehicles and barrels. 'I should have those ready for you by the time you're ready to leave.'

*

Trucker left the attendants to their working tending to the vehicles, and took a walk through the village, chatting to locals to do some recon. The rest of the crew gathered supplies: weapons and ammo in the armory, food, water and essentials from the supply and food stores, and various other sundries from around the town.

Trucker gathered intel that would come in useful for the mission. He chatted to a watch-tower lookout about recent movements from bandits or warring gangs across the Wasteland and any activity. 'Nothing too strange though, no need to worry, Trucker,' the lookout surmised with a wrinkled smile.

A weather analyst in the weather station gave Trucker a breakdown on forecasts predicted over the next few days. 'I'm seeing the convergence of a cold and warm front ... there's a possibility of some stormy weather. Best be careful out there,' she said darkly over her glasses, looking up from her screen of complex maps and numbers.

'I'll bring my jacket,' Trucker joked and tipped his cap and thanked the woman.

Trucker finished gathering information with a warm, hearty meal and a beer in the inn.

'I don't know how you still do it after all these years, Trucker, out there in the ravages of the wasteland,' the barkeep shook his head with a smirk as he cleared up some glasses. The bar was quiet, with just a few local men sipping pints down the bar.

'I'm a restless soul,' Trucker replied. 'You know me well enough by now, man, I'd rather be taken out in action and buried under the hill than be over it and not be able to get back out there,' he nodded to the window and the desert beyond. 'It's the adrenaline that keeps me going,' he took a slug of beer.

'Few people would agree with you, Trucker. At least ... few sane people.'

'Hey, now, you're giving me too much credit there. I never said I was sane,' Trucker winked and both men howled with laughter.

The two men bantered as someone entered the bar. A young man in his early twenties, medium height, slim but athletically built, strolled over towards the counter. He wore a leather jacket, boots and carried a rucksack, seemingly all he had with him.

'What can I do you for, son?' the barkeep asked.

Trucker turned to the man, whose eyes darted wildly, as if he were anxious, but he couldn't help but feel something stir in him as the young man was undeniably handsome. Trucker moved on his chair, readjusting himself.

'Uhhh,' the young man replied, unsure of what to order.

'I think you're in need of a beer,' the barkeep decided for him. 'Settle your nerves.'

'Cheers,' the young man nodded, taking off his rucksack and sitting on a stool a few down from Trucker.

'You're not from around here are you, son?' the barkeep asked, plonking a beer down on the counter before the young man.

'No, just ... passing through,' the young man kept things vague.

'Well this is the last stop before the wasteland so not much else to pass through to,' Trucker laughed and the barkeep joined in.

The young man turned to Trucker for the first time, the expression on his face open and sincere. He gazed at Trucker in wonder and then a smile crept into the side of his mouth.

Trucker had to admit, his stomach fluttered a little at the man's handsome looks and how he openly looked at Trucker with very little hesitancy, as if he were truly seeing him. Trucker's eyes rested on the young man's eyes, and they exchanged what felt like a knowing look. As if their eyes relayed a message that was unspoken.

'I guess,' the young man said finally, taking a slurp of the beer. 'You have me there,' he was loosening up a little, gaining some confidence and comfort with the other men.

'I'm Trucker,' he reached a hand out to the young man. 'Nice to meet you, what's your name?'

'Trucker? That's an interesting name. I'm-'

'Ah,' Trucker cut him off. 'That was a test. We're far from civilisation here. Rule one of the Wasteland is never give your real name. You can't trust anyone out here, it's a lawless land. People want to get a quick buck anyway they can. You cross someone out here and people hear your name, they use it against you, find out where you're from, find your family, and let's just say, revenge is the first thing they go for.'

The young man darkened at Trucker's words.

'Ah, you're scaring the young man,' the barkeep said.

'He'll be alright. Just trying to keep you alive,' Trucker patted him on the shoulder. 'You got a nickname?'

'Mmmm no,' the young man replied.

'We'll call you twink. Don't get much twinks out these parts. Suits you,' Trucker decided.

'We know how much you like twinks, Trucker,' barkeep shook his head with a grin.

'Man! Don't go telling all my secrets,' Trucker laughed.

At this the young man blushed and took a sip of his drink, feeling like he'd made an in with these random men.

'Don't mind him, he's full of bullshit,' Trucker turned to Twink.

'It's ok, maybe I like truckers,' Twink winked, taking the risk at flirting back.

Trucker took in the young man's words and smiled, the two men exchanging a warm glance as the barkeep blathered on about some random topic, but both weren't listening. Instead, they were focused on one another.

*

'Uhh, fuck yeah,' Trucker growled as he kissed Twink. He had taken him back to his room in the inn when they couldn't bear the erotic heat of their glances and exchanges in the bar. He'd have taken him back to the truck, but screwing someone in the cabins of the place where the crew would be sleeping for the length of their journey across the wasteland would be a dick move.

So, a few coins thrown the barkeep's way for a room for the night would do them just fine.

Now, both men had undressed and were heavily making out.

Twink reached up with his slender arms to the giant that was Trucker, caressing his hands over the larger man's massive body: his broad shoulders, pecs like boulders, tree-trunk arms. The skin was rough from countless battles; scars and old wounds scattered his body, but it was all muscle underneath. He couldn't get enough of the lumbering man that sat in bed with him. The thick beard tickled his smoothly shaven face as their tongues flicked inside each others' mouths. Twink's boner was raging, his hard cock standing to attention.

Likewise, Trucker's massive dick was raging - every bit as sizable as the rest of his body. He held the young man in his large embrace, holding him sweetly, all the while ravaging him with kisses and caresses across his soft, smooth body. All the flirty and joking early had led to a catharsis of passion in the room now. Their moans and sounds of fumbling in the bed echoed throughout the space.

Twink now moved down Trucker's body, planting delicate kisses across the large man's chest, licking his nipples, pecking the large belly and then nuzzling his cock, taking it inside his mouth and swallowing the thick, long shaft.

Trucker whimpered as Twink's slick tongue licked along the sensitive dick, causing him pleasure.

Twink concentrated hard to take the dick down his throat, struggling with the size. He gagged a few times when he went past a certain point, but loving every second of having the large man inside him.

Trucker held his head, tossing his head in pleasure at being taken care of.

Eventually, he couldn't take it any longer and he moved above Twink, pacing his large frame on top of the younger man, whose slim frame was totally envoloped by him.

With tenderness, he used some spit to slick up his dick and Twink's hole and gently massaged it, helping it loosen up.

He then pushed inside, waiting for Twink's hole to respond and open up further, letting the large man's massive cock in.

Twink gasped, breathing deeply and urging his hole to relax.

When he'd taken some moments to ease in, he felt his hole respond and allow Trucker's cock inside him.

Trucker pushed further, moving back and forth so he was fucking the younger man. Their moans filled the air. It had been a long time since Trucker had fucked - the wasteland didn't lend itself too much for coitous affairs, so he was living for this moment.

The large man picked up the pace, fucking the slim man deeply, enjoying his tight hole that was caressed his own shaft.

Twink's eyes were rolling. He could feel the large man's dick moving inside him, sliding against the holes of his rectum and hitting his prostate. He loved the feeling of the giant man's frame pressing down on him, holding him so he was pushed into the bed. It was like he was being enveloped.

Both men were in bliss - forgetting about their worries, about the wasteland below, about the journey they were on, what lay ahead of them, what lay behind them. All that remained was the physical act of sex, the slapping of body against body as they fucked filling the air, dick entering hole, balls slapping against butt, arms all twisted up in one another as both men became one entity, shouts of pleasure exuded from them.

The pair increased their intensity until they both came, Twink shooting his load onto the bed while Trucker unloaded in Twink's hole, burying his cum deep inside the younger man.

Once they'd rode the high of their orgasms, they fell into each others' arms, holding one another and kissing each other, laughing and in pure ecstasy over the enjoyment of their intimate moment together.

After a while, Twink turned to Trucker with a serious face. 'I was wondering ...'

'Well, yes? What is it?' Trucker asked after Twink's sentence faded to nothing.

'I saw that ... you have that truck outside. You're heading out to the wasteland, can I hitch a ride?'

Trucker sat up straight in the bed, his face turning dark. 'How do you know that?'

'Well I just spotted you in the petrol station.'

'You followed me around town and then came in to the bar and then ...' Trucker was speechless, looking down at his naked body. Suddenly, it was like the pieces were starting to come together in his mind. 'So fucking stupid. You let your guard down, Trucker,' he was rambling, giving out to himself as he looked for his clothes. He'd always valued himself on how diligent he was, not trusting anyone, keeping his guard up, and now he'd been duped into sleeping with a guy who wanted something from him, because of his raging libido.

'What's wrong?' Twink looked confused.

'That's why you flirted with me and slept with me? To get a lift. Do you even like men?' Trucker turned to Twink angrily.

'Hey, no. Not at all. I'm actually really attracted to you. And I loved what we did. Truly. I was just also wondering if I could travel with you across the wasteland?'

'Me crew know each other inside out. It's all about trust. From what just happened, I have many doubts about you, and out there is no place for taking a risk on some random guy. You could get us killed, and there's more important things at play here. It ain't happening.'

'But I could help. I've got skills.'

'No. You double-crossed me to get me to give you a way across the wasteland. Ingenuitive I'll give you that, but no way. You could be a bandit for all know.'

'I'm not, please,' Twink begged.

'Why do you need to get across the wasteland anyway. The only people risking their lives to cross are trying to get away from something ... or someone,' Trucker furrowed his brow at the young man.

'I.. can't say,' Twink looked down at the bedsheets.

'Well you could be anyone, and I can't gamble my crew and our mission on someone I can't trust. Keep your secrets and your ass away from my truck,' Trucker said with a final swish as he zipped up his pants.

'But-'

'Out of my room. Now. I don't want to see you again,' Trucker said with finality, a stern look on his face.

And with that Twink silently gathered his things, quickly dressed and left, closing the door softly behind him.