parallaxparilis | The Ongoing Adventures of Blonsky/Chris: Part 5

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The Ongoing Adventures of Blonsky/Chris: Part 5

life is like a mean machine, it made a mess out of me it left me caught between like an angry dream I was stranded-- I was stranded

For all their limited resources and the setbacks inherent to having to utilize such an indiscreet vehicle, they had managed to reach the middle of bumfuck nowhere before the Humvee called it quits; it rattled and sputtered and overheated before finally succumbing to whatever poor luck or lack of maintenance had driven it to the edge of its capabilities, coming to a stop along the side of a secluded road surrounded in all directions by nothing of note nor landmark, all trees and fields and undeveloped land. Of all the places for a breakdown, at least it offered the rogue soldier and his companion some amount of privacy before the ever-present threat of being caught up to once again.

Chris tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, glancing expectantly over to the older man. There hadn't been much in the way of talking after they'd set out, this time; he didn't chance to break the silence here, either. Instead: a cautious dart of tongue to wet his lips, awaiting Blonsky's instructions (while already he began to dig through a mental catalog of automotive parts and problems, attempting to evaluate the probability that any of it might apply to the unfamiliar Humvee).

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Blonsky stepped out of their now downtrodden mode of transport and indicated with a nod Chris should follow. He was already thinking ahead. Best case scenario, it was a problem they could fix right off, or at least patch up until they got out of this seemingly neverending stretch of road. Worst case scenario, they were now without wheels, and that meant attempting something he hadn't in a week. Becoming that form wasn't the problem; it was maintaining control.

There was a hiss and a flood of steam when he lifted the hood. Still comfortably clad only in jeans, he began to assess what damage there might be hidden beneath the smoky cloud. No reaction to the pain as he held onto the overheated metal, and the burn marks went away the second he let go.

"Well. Doesn't seem too bad. So far at least." He shrugged. "Give it a few moments and see what you can do." He leaned against the furthest edge to give Chris the space he'd need.

It took several seconds for the metal hood of the vehicle to cool enough to touch; Chris grabbed it as he leaned in to have a look and was forced to quickly pull his hand away, jamming scalded fingertips beneath his opposite arm for a moment before renewing his investigation more carefully.

He reached in among the numerous hoses and wires, moving to stand atop the front bumper in order to fold himself deeper into the inner workings of the vehicle. He didn't speak as he worked, focus completely and utterly consumed by the task at hand. After a moment he pushed off with a barely-restrained energy that spoke to the problem solver at work-- he grabbed a multitool out of his bag of collected junk and clambered under the vehicle to continue his inspection. It was several minutes before Chris emerged again, face and arms streaked with sweat and grease.

"Try the ignition," he instructed, leaning over to glance under the hood expectantly. He frowned when the Humvee sputtered and chugged and ultimately sounded as though it was attempting to shake itself apart, raking a hand through sweat-dampened hair before burying himself up to the elbows in the vehicle's innards once more.

Blonsky watched him get to work, a broad grin showing the second Chris burned himself. He had told him to wait. Once he actually got down to the gears, though, the soldier simply enjoyed the view it presented. Tactical visuals of the several ways he could simply take what he wanted right now raced in his mind. How the few and feeble protests would quickly turn to begging, then whimpers with whispered Russian in his ear...

He moved instantly to do as Chris asked, his body entirely on auto-pilot and mind thoroughly elsewhere. The Humvee's sounds were a distraction, forcing him to think on their current problem. The solution was obvious to him. He said nothing of it, and allowed Chris to continue on for a few moments longer.

The metal hood creaked and whined as it was forced to bend in ways it wasn't built for. Soon it was curved over the front window after minimal effort from him. Blonsky didn't give Chris much reaction time before he was behind him, one hand on his hip, the other winding in the youth's hair, forcing him back.

"Do you have any idea just how much I want to fuck you right now?" He said in a low, rough whisper with the ever-present growl. Pressed to him as Blonsky was, the younger genius was certain to have a good idea if he hadn't already.

The adroit portion of Chris's mind stuttered and abruptly went silent on him. For the scantest second he could only blink stupidly, the figurative rug pulled out from under him in having to switch gears so suddenly. Then it all caught up at once, sending a shiver down his spine.

"I think I'm beginning to get the picture," he replied, voice strained despite his best efforts. He let his head loll back in Blonsky's grasp, against his shoulder, though the rest of him was spring-loaded with a nervous tension that practically hummed.

The hand on Chris's hip moved down, forced its way inside. Blonsky curled his fingers around him beneath the layers. He stroked him, teasing him against the restrictions.

"It'd be so easy too. No one around to hear us. You want it almost as much as I do..."

His own breathing had deepened, heartbeat practically pounding in his ears and a rush of adrenaline raced through him. He allowed it, even welcomed it.

"On your knees, Chris." The command was abrupt, the tug at sweat-soaked hair insistent. Blonsky suddenly stepped back, practically pulled Chris with him, as his hand abandoned Chris's obvious needs to undo his own jeans.

Chris stumbled on uneasy legs as he turned to follow, practically falling to his knees as that live wire of tension snapped and released its hold, leaving him feeling weak and lightheaded in its wake. He did want it, ached with wanting it, but some deeper part of him wanted it to hurt and it scared the living hell out of the rest of him.

He stared up at Blonsky with an intensity familiar to the look he'd given the Humvee while attempting to work through a problem to its logical end, silently waiting to see how much he could push before the soldier pushed back.

That look begged him for bruises and blood. Blonsky's own eyes flaired a brighter, unnatural green and that would be the Chris's only warning before he thrust forward into his mouth, pushing past those youthful lips that needed to be stretched around his cock. The second they were, both of his hands were in Chris's hair, pinning him in place and offering very little choice in the matter.

A shallow thrust at first, to allow him to get used to it, adjust, and he eased out slowly before repeating, pointedly harder this time.

Fuck him, claim him, own him. The thought screamed in his mind. He didn't know where he ended and Abomination began. As he moved and demanded more from Chris, he decided it no longer mattered.

There was a brief moment where Chris had tried to turn or back away from that abrupt advance, but strong, heavy hands held him steady while his breathing found a rhythm to allow for the alternative use of his mouth. He closed his eyes, trying to concentrate on what Blonsky's own technique had been not so long ago, but pinned as he was there wasn't much he could do but take whatever he was given.

He tried to swallow, but it only caused him to choke before he could force himself to relax once more. Hands reaching for Blonsky's hips in an attempt to slow their relentless assault, his mouth remained slack and open, to be taken and used at the other's discretion. When he chanced to swallow again it drove the soldier's cock deeper still, against the back of his throat, pulling a sound from the younger man that was equal parts reluctant and wanton while one hand clumsily sought to relieve his own neglected arousal.

"Just like that, Chris..." Blonsky-Abomination moaned, voice rough and cracked, and worse when he repeated the soft words in Russian. He moved in deep, as far as he could go then further still, just to hear that sound again, that emotion from Chris that defied words.

He watched the younger man beneath him with bright multi-colored eyes, expression blank and wondering. One hand moved down, pressed on his nose while one thumb tenderly stroked the other man's cheek, caressing away any stray tears. The skin beneath his touch was reddening from the lack of oxygen.

"So... trusting..." he said, still with a voice that barely resembled anything human, before his hand moved back and he permitted Chris to breathe again. There was a few seconds allowed for recovery before Blonsky continued at his previous unforgiving pace. His skintone had paled, now a very light tint of green. The pulsating veins, throbbing with each rapid heartbeat, stood out even more against it. The change was so close now...

Chris's throat constricted uselessly as he was denied breath, eyes watering from the strain and abuse even as he stroked himself, giving over everything for Blonsky to have--to control--with complete abandon. He sobbed for breath when it was permitted to him, moaning softly but profoundly around the soldier's cock as though it was the sweetest air he'd ever tasted. Though he tried in earnest to keep up with Blonsky's renewed clip, there was still little he could do but attempt to take everything, through the ache in his jaw and the burning in his lungs, throat raw and used.

His fingers tightened around the base of his own erection, prolonging the dual agony of being so expertly strung along the razor's edge between pleasure and pain as his gaze, clouded with lust though it was, found Blonsky's acidic glowing eyes and some spark of recognition awoke within him. Chris gasped out some approximation of the other's name to the best of his ability, given his position; not in warning or alarm, but as a plea.

The last desperate sensation was all he needed. With one final gasp, he came deep within Chris's throat, uncaring for his lack of oxygen. He held on for as long as he could before he quickly shoved him away. He stumbled back on legs already starting to lengthen and finally slumped forward in a crouch.

The hand that lie still on the ground had grown twice as large. He punched it down and cracked the concrete. Joints snapped and pants ripped as his bones protruded against his skin. Thrown back as his rib cage distended, he then stretched out when his pelvis did the same.

He awkwardly moved to all fours, breathing hard and writhing in the throes of the transformation. Muscles expanded, his skin became rough armor. His hair flattened and disappeared beneath it. The last change was the spine. The ridges formed into lengthy spikes.

The creature finally stood up to his full height of eleven feet. He grinned, a predatory look of satisfaction, as he looked down at Chris, a puny human at his feet. Abomination roared to the skies, a long, loud bellow of power. He was on all fours before it finished echoing. One hand slammed down, fingers splayed and claws digging into the road purposefully. Chris was pinned beneath it, inescapably but not crushing him.

"Come for me, Chris," he demanded with a sneer. The harsh British accent was deeper and monstrous now, more commanding than before.

Chris stared up at the creature in awe, taken aback by the violence and the extremity of his transformation. He swallowed thickly, wiping his mouth with the back of one hand before biting his knuckles and obediently moving his other hand beneath his waistband once again. His pulse thudded in his ears, heart racing like a rabbit in a trap as he wrapped his fingers around himself, eyes falling closed with a whimper that was only partially muted by his opposite hand. It didn't take long for him to finish; a few long pulls and he was spilling over his fingers with a stuttering gasp, eyes snapping open to meet the Abomination's with an unfocused gaze.

"Blon--" His voice was raw through his heaving breaths, causing him to stop and swallow and try again. It hadn't much improved. "Blonsky. Wh... you. Might've-- left some things out when you told me about..."

He blinked, some small portion of clarity returning to him even as his voice died in his throat.

Abomination chuckled low in his throat at the response, just before he moved his hand away from covering Chris. Without any warning, he bent his head down to lick away the mess upon his younger companion. It was with the very tip of his tongue and impossibly gentle. The tiny taste was savored for several seconds.

"Did I?" He finally replied with mock innocence. "Whoops."

His eyes flashed mischievously before he finally moved away, giving some breathing room. The creature turned his attentions to the Humvee.

"Get your bag. We're leaving."

Scrambling to his feet as he refastened his jeans, if Chris had any feelings one way or the other about being licked clean by a creature nearly twice his size then they were obscured beneath the perceptible spinning up of numerous other, more important questions. That said, quick though he was in recovering mental faculties in spite of their activities, he had some difficulty holding on to any one of those questions long enough to voice any of them aloud just yet.

He picked up the tools he'd taken from the bag previously and returned them to it before dragging the duffel out from the back seat and shouldering it. Stepping back from the Humvee, now rendered useless, he glanced over at his monstrous companion. Impressive though the transformation was, it didn't immediately lend itself to any less conspicuous means of transportation that he could see. "How?"

Barely a second after Chris had voiced his question, the Abomination had picked up the Humvee. Above his head it hovered until he ripped it in half. Each piece was then thrown in opposite directions; one crashed into a mountain and embedded itself there. The other flew off into the distance and where it ended up was anyone's guess.

"You'll ride me," the creature responded simply, accompanied by a suggestive leer. He got down on one knee, and if he was aware of the similarities to a man's marriage proposal stance, he gave no sign of it. "Shoulder. Spikes. Pick one."

Chris clapped his hands over his ears while the metal frame of the Humvee warped and splintered in the Abomination's powerful grasp, but despite the blatant show of power a hint of something like childish exhilaration filled the space where fear or wariness should have been. He watched as one half of the vehicle was thrown off into the horizon, unable to stop himself from likening it to following the seemingly interminable path of the laser he and Mitch had built what felt sometimes like eons ago.

That thought sobered him some.

He returned his attention to the Abomination immediately when it spoke, taken aback only momentarily. Then he was clambering up the massive body of the beast, using the spikes as leverage until he was settled comfortably aside its back. "Beats walking," he offered with an accompanying grin. "Giddyup?"

The creature chuckled at that before it began moving. He gradually goes from a slow walk to a full-on sprint after a brief time period to ensure Chris isn't about to fall off. Despite his earlier behavior pre-transformation, the last thing he wants, or needs, is Chris injured. It'd slow them down and they certainly didn't have the supplies to fix a broken leg.

After a time he stopped suddenly, head swiftly moving to one side as he listened. Satisfied with what he heard, he resumed, though not as speedy as before. Long stretch of road ahead of them, and with the sun beginning to set, they had all night in which to travel. Silence lasted a while as Abomination was even less of a talkative sort than Blonsky.

"Most would've run by now." He finally said some time after the first stars speckled the sky above them. "You didn't. Why do you stay?"

Although he'd remained uncharacteristically quiet for much of the trip, contemplating Blonsky's transformation and the sheer power behind its speed and strength, Chris didn't hesitate to direct his attention back to the present once spoken to.

"Self-realization," he replied, casting a nostalgic glance towards the stars. "I don't know," he went on, "Why not? I mean... aside from you being a fugitive, and a huge green monster, and all the other very convincing reasons why not."

He let that hang for a beat before giving a half shrug. "I tried traveling alone. Not much fun."

There was a grunt from the great beast that could mean any number of things. Acknowledgement, agreement, annoyance? Perhaps none or all.

"I remember you from Harlem. I threw a car at you. You seemed disappointed when it missed. You're not 'traveling', you're running away." It was a question within a statement that didn't allow for argument.

That shut Chris up for a few moments, looking from the creature to some indistinct point on the horizon.

"I meant you," he said at last, sidestepping the conversation. "Traveling alone. Seemed like you could use the company."

"No." Abomination shook his head. No sidestepping, no diverting. "We're talking about you. Not me."

"I was talking about you first," Chris retorted, automatically. The growl he received for the effort effectively reminded him that testing the patience of an eleven-foot monster that had on one occasion thrown a car at him and on another ripped one in half was probably not in his best interests. He ducked his head a little, folding in on himself even from where he was perched atop the Abomination's back.

When he spoke up again it was with a tone that was almost uncharacteristically pensive. "I needed space to think. I kept telling myself that maybe if I kept going, eventually I'd find enough. Instead I found you."

He tried to think back to that moment in Harlem, before he'd found Blonsky, before he'd even known the source of all the commotion. One solitary moment of-- not... not disappointment, surely. It had seemed like a freak occurrence at the time, a near-miss with which to instill the fear of God in him, but by the time he'd had his wits about him the fight had moved someplace else.

"... You threw a car at me?"

The creature chuckled. He could more readily recall that small moment in time. It was the clearest picture amidst the chaos that makes up his mind. The kid, only prey then, walking slowly, seemingly lost and without direction. Everyone else running, screaming, but not him.

He was the mouse going right for the cat's mouth instead of away. Abomination had wanted to test his determination for death. There would've been more except the Hulk had chosen that moment to make a crash landing.

"I wanted to make sure you were awake."

It took an additional few seconds for the somber mood that had settled over Chris to lift enough for a half-smile to make itself at home upon his face, more at ease now than before. He cast out his first doubting thought, attributing it to his own cynicism, and slid gradually back into the more comfortable role of the recklessly cavalier.

"If I wasn't, that sure did the trick."

There were more questions Abomination felt the need to ask, ones Blonsky might normally shy away from, but a scent wafting on the breeze distracted him. His head turned in that direction.

"Hang on tight." That was Chris's only warning before he began a full-out sprint. The ground beneath him trembled and he felt the wind whipping past his face. A cheetah would have difficulty keeping up with him right now.

In less than twenty minutes they'd arrived at a deep cave. The smell was that of a freshly killed deer. It had died of natural causes, that of the food chain, but the beasts had run off before finishing their meal.

The cavern was spacious enough to fit them both. That was good enough. He kneeled so Chris could climb down without too much difficulty.

"Let's see you put those boy scout skills to use."

Chris clambered down on uneasy legs, stretching and reaching down to touch his toes before the smell caught his attention and he turned to notice the deer. He pulled a face at the grisly sight, but his bag contained only what they'd scavenged from Harlem and there was only so far that one, let alone two, could go on protein bars alone. He tossed his bag down against the cavern wall and began shuffling through it for supplies. The utility knife he set aside for later, glancing from the deer to Abomination.

"How long does it take you to change back?"

There was a shift of shoulders as the large creature only shrugged. "Best if I don't for a while."

He stood, surveyed the leftover provisions. Had he been Blonsky, he would've sent Chris on surveillance while he took care of the deer's remains. Abomination, on the other hand, just didn't care.

"See what you can do with that. Feed yourself, preserve the rest."

Chris offered the deer's carcass a crestfallen look, reclaiming the knife he'd set aside. "I've never been a boy scout," he informed no one in particular.

Still, a task was a task, and he seemed willing to try his hand at it one way or the other. It couldn't be that much more complicated than optical phase conjugation, anyway. He rummaged briefly through his bag in search of other useful supplies before producing one of numerous cheap plastic lighters and looking out into the dimming light outside their temporary shelter.

"We're gonna need kindling for some sort of campfire."

Abomination didn't waste time with a nod. He was simply gone from the cavern before Chris had finished speaking.

A couple miles back were several trees. Not for much longer, though. The giant heaved them up from the ground, roots and all, and tossed them toward the cavern. They would land just a the mouth of it. He had accurate aim when he wanted to. Three of them total, then six, before finally twelve. He broke them down, tore away branches and leaves, and brought several of the smaller logs back into their temporary rocky hotel with him.

He clustered them together into a neat pile for Chris.

By the time Abomination returned, Chris was covered in his efforts to butcher the deer, blood to match the grease and oil from before covering his hands and forearms. There was one streak along his cheek, as well, from where he'd absently drawn the back of one hand across his face (an involuntary response after being startled from his work by the first thundering of felled tree trunks).

Grateful for the excuse to abandon the ill-fated deer and work on starting a fire instead, Chris dropped his knife in favor of one of the lighters he'd pocketed earlier and knelt in front of the small pile of firewood. He picked out a few remaining twigs and splinters to use as kindling, lighting them absently as his attention shifted back to his companion.

Apropos of nothing, he spoke: "Was your DNA mixed with something? Do you know? Some kind of... horned lizard? Ooh, wait--! A crested lizard."

The giant creature took in the state of Chris with an unreadable expression. Something dangerous and predatory flashed in those multicolored eyes. If he were himself, the fate of their dinner and fire building would have been abandoned by now.

After some sudden remodeling of the rocky interior, he made a comfortable seating arrangement. It was, essentially, a throne made of rocks and boulders upon which he sat. He had yet to take his eyes off Chris. The impromptu question was enough to distract him. Momentarily.

"No. It wasn't." He growled just before reaching out and pulling Chris to him by his shirtfront. With one hand laid flat on that messy hair to keep him in place, Abomination licked that damnable streak off his cheek, savoring the taste. He then released Chris as though nothing had happened.

Upon being let go, Chris reached up in the start of a motion to smooth his hair, stopping just short when he realized the state his hands were in. He glanced between them and then back to Abomination, rubbing his cheek against his shoulder to avoid smearing blood across it a second time. "Um. Thanks."

He turned back to the fire, toeing a log over the burgeoning embers in hope it would catch quicker. "So it's just... that's bizarre. The spikes, I mean. The rest of your bone structure is still..." Chris looked at him, brows pinched in thought. "... and ears. Where does your hair go?"

He rolled his eyes, clearly not pleased with this sudden barrage of questions. "Hulk turns green. Grows, gains muscles. Why are spikes so different?" That wouldn't please the kid and he let out a sigh. It was times like this he really wished he knew the secret to transforming back. "I still have ears. They're just smaller."

No, he's not answering about his hair. It's gone and he never really thought about why, or how he gains it back when returning to himself. It was... simply what happened.

"Weren't you cutting up a deer for your dinner?"

There were more questions--an exhaustive number of questions--on the tip of his tongue, interrupted by mention of the deer. Chris grimaced as he looked at his unfinished handiwork before gathering his courage to retrieve the knife and try his hand at it again. As he worked, he suddenly began rattling off a list of animals without visible external ears, occasionally making note of this or that oddity specific to one species or another. It wasn't until he reached tympanal organs that he'd made any amount of progress in obtaining anything remotely resembling appetizing meat from the deer, and he dropped the knife unceremoniously next to the carcass with a flick of his blood-soaked hands.

"Have I mentioned I've never been camping?" Chris interrupted his own seemingly endless dialog with a huff of breath. "Look in there for something I can use as a pan or a skewer, or..." He looked from their bag of supplies to the Abomination and back down at his own hands. "Or just dump everything out so I can get at it without covering it all in Bambi over here. Whichever."

While Chris prattled on, the Abomination watched him lazily. Things were calm, his thoughts were losing their amped quality. Heartrate and breathing seemed to be slowing down as well. It was like coming off a caffeinated binge (with a healthy dose of several illegal substances) to a relatively normal state.

"Sure." An agreement to a statement he hadn't paid attention to. His vision was blurring, the iris switched colors from the bright gamma to his own darker hazel and back. The red blood on Chris's arms stood out, gave him something to focus on.

Already he'd begun to shrink, while his bones cracked, broke, and realigned themselves to proper positions. He moved off the throne of boulders, fell to all fours then onto his stomach. The process was, mercifully, without pain, despite what its numerous noises might indicate. It was still an exhausting one, and Blonsky remained still, breathing deeply, allowed it to run its course.

It was the first audible--painful, if only to hear--snap of breaking bone that arrested Chris's immediate attention to the complete disregard of all else, bringing him to his feet in the same instant that Blonsky hit the ground.

"Blonsky!" He was at the soldier's side in an instant, dropping to his knees for blood-soaked hands to hover at his shoulders in a moment of brief, blind panic before he rolled the older man onto his back. The lack of pain in Blonsky's expression (or his mastery over it, it was difficult to tell from an outside perspective) calmed him by a few degrees, but only some. Chris still leaned over him protectively, one hand at his collarbone, the other at his jaw, both inadvertently painting the soldier's skin red as the last vestiges of the transformation left him in their wake. "Blonsky. Hey, come on. A little warning? ...Are you okay?"

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The Ongoing Adventures of Blonsky/Chris: Part 5

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