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Gideon was drinking about the mine again. Or at least, he was drinking about its management. Shit was dangerous and no one seemed to be taking him seriously. It pissed him off something awful, but for now, he soothed himself with a whiskey, tapping his foot to the lively ragtime piano played by a pair of fungril who took turns dancing and doing tricks. Mid evening had set in and the hazy glass windows showed a world falling into darkness. There came a creaking rattle as a tall drakona stepped in, the two wood slat doors complaining on their hinges behind him as he did so. The rest of the patrons hardly noticed, only one or two of them giving curious glances to see if anyone they recognized had come around.
Glancing at him, Gideon felt his third eye go wide. There was an aura of dread and doom about the poor bastard, but also a bone-deep familiarity, like he’d met the man before, though he certainly had not. He felt his cheeks get hot as he took in the lithe green lizard-like fella. Mercy, what he wouldn’t do to have someone small and willing in his hands who looked like that, who felt right like this man somehow did. He found himself unreasonably hot and bothered, a blush creeping up his collar as his eyes, all three of them, roved over the scaled man’s thin waist and petite hips.
The drakona was dressed like someone who enjoyed finery but couldn’t afford it, his cheap twill vest purple at a glance but as he stepped closer Gideon could see it was a weave of red and blue thread to give the appearance of the more expensive pigment. The man’s long legs were covered in pants that seemed just too big for him, and his crumpled white shirt beneath his vest was dust-laden from travel. Its collar was worn at the edges, but an aged silk bow tie at the throat somewhat redeemed the ensemble.
On the man’s head beneath a crown of small, forest green horns was a gambler’s hat of purple leather. In one hand he held a battered suitcase and in the other a wilted cigarette, which he raised to his mouth and settled between his teeth, taking a drag before flicking the butt over his shoulder. The drakona surveyed the bar, nodding once or twice to those who made eye contact with him before his golden gaze settled on Gideon.
“Whattado, friend? That seat there taken?” He indicated the stool next to him.
“Yes sir, it is, by yerself,” Gideon said with a friendly smile.
The drakona gave an awkward laugh but hopped onto the stool, his slender tail steadying him as he did so. His viridian scales shone in the light of the iron fixture above them, small and tightly packed together. Gideon wondered what they would feel like under his fingers. Above his mouth, the man had drawn a delicate black mustache with makeup. Gideon found it intensely cute and self-consciously curled the end of his own ginger mustache between thumb and forefinger.
“What’re you drinkin’, mister?” asked the bartender as the man set his suitcase down, looping his tail through the handle protectively.
“Whatever’s cheap,” he intoned, “I’m flat broke.”
Gideon’s pointed ears perked up.
“I got him, Ennis,” he said.
That caught the drakona’s attention, which was precisely why Gideon had offered.
“Why, thank ya very kindly,” he purred before addressing Ennis. “I’ll take rum if you have it, gin if you don’t. Neat.” The man turned to Gideon with a toothy smile and thrust out a delicate hand. Gideon’s grizzled paw engulfed it entirely, his palm, made up more of callous than skin, like a sin against the smoothness of the drakona’s silky scales. “Name’s Kremy, Kremy Lecroux.”
“Gideon, Gideon Coal. Real nice to meet ya, mister,” he said, meaning it with every fiber of his substantial being.
“Well, Mr. Coal, it’s mighty fine to meet you as well. Gods, you’re a big fella, ain’tcha?” he commented, golden eyes roving over Gideon’s nearly eight foot tall body, his broad shoulders and his handsome but weathered face.
“Well,” Gideon laughed, feeling a little self-conscious, “Reckon I am. And yer a slim fella,” he said, a hint of flirtation in his tone as he went on. “Yer like ninety-percent leg, at least. You got legs for days, man!”
Kremy seemed pleased with the compliment regarding his long, slim legs and folded one over the other, the toe of his scuffed dress shoes covered with mud-stained canvas spatterdashes just touching Gideon’s jeans at the knee.
They stared at one another for a long moment, but were distracted when a glass of gin was deposited next to Kremy’s thin elbow where it rested on the bar. Kremy hummed and picked it up, taking a sip and hissing.
Gideon gulped at his own whiskey, feeling flustered when he watched Kremy’s throat bob as he swallowed.
“So, uh,” he fished about for a topic of conversation that would keep the man from leaving once he finished his drink, “what brings you to Eden?”
“Oh, you know, this and that,” Kremy evaded, watching the gin as he swirled his glass. “I’m a travelin’ salesman, see,” and here he indicated his suitcase.
“Sales, huh? What kinda sales?”
Kremy’s eyes glinted with interest, his delicate snout tipping up.
“Well, these here tinctures will cure just about any ailment,” he said beginning to reach for the case.
Oh boy. Snake oil salesman. Rett had often griped about just such types, complaining that they did nothing but scam folks. This one was charming, at least, but Gideon stopped his pitch with a hand.
“Oh, uh, I ain’t in the market, I was just, uh, wonderin’.” Fuck. The guy would probably excuse himself now, off to sell to someone else.
“Well, alright,” Kremy said, tone going a little snippy. He huffed a sigh a moment later. “Thank ya for the drink. Genuinely. I needed it.”
“Sure you don’t want another?” Gideon asked, heart squeezing. He couldn’t explain it, but he liked this guy. He didn’t want him to leave. A thought occurred that maybe Rett might need an assistant. He just had to keep the man from leaving town before he could ask.
Kremy stood, knocking back the last of his gin in one go and wiping his mouth delicately with a handkerchief plucked from his vest. He pulled out a tarnished pocket watch and checked the time.
“Suppose I can do one more. Ain’t like it matters none, anyway, I ain’t got the gold to pay for a room. Have to pitch a tent.” This last was mumbled with clear irritation.
The tips of Gideon’s index fingers pressed together and he avoided looking at Kremy when he said, “I got a spare room.”
His third eye flicked cautiously to look at him while his other two stayed locked on his hands where they cupped his glass. The drakona’s dark green brow ridges had risen with surprise.
“Ennis, another for this fella, if you would,” Gideon said, to cover his nerves and to entice Kremy to stay.
Kremy settled back onto the stool, seeming to reappraise Gideon, slitted pupils sliding down to take in the ginger-red chest hair spilling out of the top of his shirt, gaze roving over his broad belly, stocky legs and big booted feet.
“That’s mighty kind of you to offer. You, uh, you make that sorta offer to every man that comes around these parts?”
Gideon’s cheeks blazed. He heard the unasked question beneath the wry tone. He hadn’t meant it quite like that. He looked at Kremy and then down at the bar top, feeling sweat gathering at the small of his back.
“No, sir. Just happened to take a likin’ to ya, I guess.”
Kremy didn’t look when he reached for the new glass of gin Ennis set down next to him. Suave, he brought it to his mouth and sipped, his pink bifurcated tongue sliding against the ridge of soft scales at the edge of his mouth that served as lips. Gideon wanted to touch them. Wanted to kiss them. He wanted to court him first, though, get to know him. Make him dinner and maybe go for a walk, Kremy’s dainty arm hooked into his own. He cleared his throat and adjusted on his stool, taking a swig of whiskey for the courage.
Kremy’s thin fingertip slid around the lip of his glass as he held Gideon’s gaze, his blunted claw tapping the glass lightly.
“Might could be I’d take a likin’ to you if you’d buy me dinner,” he commented. “Haven’t eaten a good meal in a few days.”
Gideon didn’t care if it was a lie. Tugging at his collar once, he waved Ennis over again.
“Hey man, the kitchen still open?”
“Closed an hour ago, Gideon, you know that.”
Well, shit.
“I got a perfectly good kitchen if you don’t mind home cookin’,” Gideon tried and a knowing smile overtook Kremy’s sleek features.
“That so?”
“I make a mean BLT, partner,” Gideon drawled.
“How far’s your place?”
“Ain’t but a ways down the road. Mile or so.”
Kremy let out a little hiss and seemed to consider, sipping his gin before he nodded.
“Alright, Mr. Coal. You got anything to drink at home or should we get good and liquored up here?”
“Well, the drinks at home are already paid for,” Gideon said in a wry tone, turning in his seat to face him, their knees bumping.
“Lead the way,” Kremy said.
They finished their drinks and stepped out into the cool night, Kremy shivering. Inanely, Gideon felt an almost instinctive urge to pull him close to warm him. Of course, he didn’t, that would be entirely too familiar for someone he’d met not ten minutes before. Kremy loosened his bow tie with a finger before he pulled out a crumpled loaf of rolling papers, dusting tobacco into one before his tongue flicked out to lick the edge, clever fingers rolling it up. Damn, Gideon wanted those fingers to touch him, maybe to run through his hair… He cleared his throat.
“Oh, uh, you want one?” Kremy asked.
“N-No, no, I’m more of a cigar fella myself,” Gideon said, though he was sorely tempted to put something Kremy’s tongue had pressed against between his lips. He pulled a cigar out of his breast pocket instead so they could smoke together.
Kremy fiddled with a lighter that fizzled sparks but didn’t light, apparently out of fuel.
“Fuck,” he mumbled.
Gideon lit a match along the side of his jeans and offered its flame without comment, holding it steady so Kremy could light up.
“There ya go,” he said around the cigar tucked in the corner of his mouth. He breathed in the fragrant smoke and they stood for a moment on the boardwalk in front of the Widow’s Garnet, Kremy with his suitcase full of snake oil and Gideon with a chest full of longing for someone he barely knew.
Something drew him to this man like a moth to flame, like shadow to darkness.
“Here,” Gideon’s fingers pressed against Kremy’s as he reached down to take the suitcase, mostly because he wanted an excuse to touch him. His scales were cool and his hand opened, allowing Gideon to bear his burden as though such a duty was habitual. “My place is that-a-way,” he said, tipping his chin toward it.
They started walking together, dust curling beneath their feet as they trudged along, Gideon’s big work boots dwarfing Kremy’s small dress shoes.
“So tell me about yourself, Mr. Coal,” Kremy said, taking a thoughtful drag on his cigarette as they caught a rhythm that accommodated their differences in size.
“Nothin’ much to tell. I work the mines. Don’t rightly want to talk about that much, if I’m bein’ honest. It’s… well, it’s kinda a shit show right now,” he admitted, blowing out smoke, his teeth crushing the end of his cigar as anger flared up in his chest again. Rich fucks from out of town making decisions that put his men in danger.
“You ever thought of doin’ anything else?” Kremy asked, tone a little wistful. Gideon looked down at him, marveling again at how proud and put-together he seemed despite being down on his luck.
“Maybe once or twice. Why?”
“Mmm. No reason. Just… I don’t know. Caught up the way I am, sellin’ potions and whatnot for…” He waved his hand dismissively. “It doesn’t matter.”
Gideon frowned.
“And what if I say ‘it does’?”
Kremy gave a tired laugh.
“Then I’d tell you that you are entirely too kind to folks you only just met, Mr. Coal.” He sighed. “I work for a man that… well. Let’s just say I’ll be workin’ for him for the foreseeable future. Rest of my sorry life, maybe.” He seemed sheepish. “Made a few bad deals, signed a contract. You know how it is.”
Gideon didn’t, but he nodded sagely, just glad that this pretty fella was talking to him, walking alongside him.
“Well… what would ya do if you didn’t work for that guy?”
Kremy was quiet for a long moment, the only sound that of their footsteps and the distant singing of a pack of coyotes carried on the wind. Off to their right an owl hooted. He took another contemplative drag off his cigarette before he answered.
“I’d start a carnival, I think. Somethin’ fun, with entertainers and funnel cakes and shit.”
“I like cake,” Gideon commented, feeling stupid for saying so a moment later, but Kremy laughed softly and Gideon thought maybe he’d never heard a sweeter sound in all his life.
“Me too. Used to dream about it, you know? As a kid. ‘Carnivale Lecroux.’” Kremy held a hand palm out as though painting a picture before them. “Striped tents all decked out in lights, a carousel with unicorns and dragons.” Kremy glanced at Gideon. “Maybe a strong man or two to throw weights around.”
Gideon broke into a smile and scuffed at the back of his neck.
Hells if that didn’t sound like fun.
“And it’d make a good piece of money,” Kremy went on, brow furrowing. “Wouldn’t want for anything.”
Gideon frowned.
“Well, what’s stoppin’ ya?”
The laugh that poured from Kremy’s mouth was nearly as sharp as his teeth.
“Plenty, friend. Plenty. No, that’s just a dream, nothin’ real. Gotta keep my head out of the clouds.”
“Don’t see any reason you couldn’t work toward it,” Gideon frowned. “Get you some tents, a pettin’ zoo to start, maybe. I think one of the fellas in town’s got a mule he’s lookin’ to sell.”
Kremy looked up at him with a warm, surprised expression.
“Have to have a few employees. Some acrobats,” he said.
“Yeah,” Gideon agreed, with a small smile, enjoying planning something with this man. Wait? With him? For him? What was this? “No clowns, though,” he said after a moment, frowning.
“And why not?” Kremy asked.
Gideon was about to say ‘because I don’t like them’ when he realized that his opinion mattered not at all to this man.
“Dunno,” he said instead. “Seems like you could do better’n a bunch’a idiots in paint ‘n’ big shoes ‘n’ that kinda nonsense.”
Kremy hummed a small sound and flicked his cigarette butt away, blowing out a stream of blue smoke. Gideon’s third eye glanced at him while he kept the other two straight ahead. Golden eyes were on him, filled with a soul-deep sadness Gideon wished he could kiss away.
“Reckon maybe I could have, in another life. Anyway. Enough about me. Tell me more about yourself, Mr. Coal.”
“Call me ‘Gideon’,” he said.
“Alright. Gideon. Tell me more.” Kremy’s voice sounded sincere and his hand slid into the crook of Gideon’s elbow. His touch was cool against his skin. Heart pounding like a spooked horse, Gideon began to tell Kremy more about himself, just as he’d asked.
He started shy, but he saw Kremy looking at him wistfully and it soothed his nerves. He gave details of his life, telling him about his adoptive brother Shepherd and their adoptive father Rett. The remains of the sun slid lazily beyond the horizon, a blanket of stars unfurling above them.
When they arrived at Gideon’s humble home, he set about cooking up bacon, slathering thick slabs of bread with butter.
“Now hang on, you can’t just have butter on a BLT. Got any eggs?” Kremy asked. “Lemons? Lemon juice?”
Gideon crinkled his nose in confusion.
“What’s the diff’rence?”
Kremy stared at him like he was actually stupid.
“One comes from the other,” he said, laughing.
“Well, I know that, man, okay, but you asked about both,” Gideon guffawed, nudging Kremy with an elbow, too familiar. It was too easy to fall into step with this man, too easy to make jokes with him.
He watched with gentle amusement as Kremy made himself at home, whisking up some sort of creamy, tangy sauce while Gideon sliced tomatoes.
He pulled out a bottle of rye whiskey once the sandwiches were made.
“All I got, sorry. Don’t have many rum drinkers around these parts, usually.” He pulled out glasses and poured several fingers for each of them. They chatted, eating their sandwiches, finding common ground in their mutual dislike of mincing bureaucrats and the upper class, though it seemed more like Kremy was jealous of this last group. Gideon lit another cigar, allowing himself the indulgence this quiet equivalent-of-a-Friday.
Long, comfortable silence stretched between them, occasionally peppered with a question, an answer and then a return to quiet, the two of them relaxed in one another’s presence. Gideon had begun to imagine a life working for a carnival, wondering what it would be like when Kremy spoke again.
“You’ve been pourin’ me drinks, cooked me food and offered me a place to stay. What’s your angle, Mr. Coal? Mr. Gideon. Gid,” Kremy settled on, clearly a little buzzed as he waved a skeptical hand.
Gideon didn’t usually like the shortening of his name, but from this man’s tongue, it felt like comfort, felt like friendship, felt like maybe something more down the road. He took a puff on his cigar, shaking his head with amusement.
“Ain’t got any angles, Kremy,” he said with a laugh. “’Less you count bein’ built like a brick shithouse, but I don’t think I’m that rectang’ler.” He surveyed his own shoulders, drawing a chuckle from the other man. “You needed a place to stay.”
Kremy’s eyes narrowed.
“Uh huh. So what’s the catch?”
Gideon spluttered, a little insulted.
“Ain’t no catch neither, man, you said you needed someplace to stay, I’ve got someplace. I don’t know what kinda place yer from but I was raised not to let a fella sleep without a bed under him and a roof over him. That’s all.”
“Raised right, then,” Kremy murmured.
“Yes sir,” Gideon affirmed.
“Well, I don’t know that I was raised right, but,” Kremy set his glass down with a thud on the table after he drained it, “I don’t want to be indebted to anyone else. So I suppose I owe you a favor.” He watched Gideon with hooded golden eyes, tongue darting out briefly to lick his lip. “So what kind of favor would you like, Gid?”
Gideon took a shaky breath at the hungry, almost predatory way Kremy was surveying him now.
“What’d you have in mind?”
“Why don’t you take me to your bedroom and I can show ya?” Kremy suggested.
For a moment Gideon was frozen in place. Kremy was offering. He was offering, but it sounded a lot less like an offer and a lot more like payment in exchange for his hospitality. Rett raised him better than to accept that.
“I don’t want you thinkin’ you have to do anythin’ with me to get a good night’s rest and some grub, Kremy. I bought ya drinks cuz I thought you were perdy, but that don’t mean I’m gonna take advantage.”
Kremy laughed incredulously.
“I don’t know what to make of you,” he admitted, looking almost angry about it. “Let me tell ya this, Gid – I wouldn’t have come home with ya if I wasn’t interested. You ain’t backin’ me into any corners I didn’t walk into knowingly.”
They sat at an impasse, Kremy casually rolling another cigarette. He laid it on his lower lip and stood, approaching Gideon, leaning forward and pressing the tip of his cigarette against the thick glowing end of Gideon’s cigar, inhaling as he held eye contact, or tried to, though it took him a moment to figure out that he had to ignore the third one.
Gideon wasn’t stupid, he knew what Kremy was implying but it was a bad idea. He’d never… done that with anyone.
“I, uh, I ain’t ever, uh,” he looked away, embarrassed. He knew a man his age ought to have a family, ought to know how to please something or somebody other than his own fist. “Ain’t a good idea,” he settled on, nodding to convince himself.
Kremy softened and sat on one of Gideon’s thighs, a smile pulling at the edge of his mouth.
“My, my, Mr. Coal. You ain’t ever had the company of someone else in your bed, now, have you?”
“Ain’t cuz of that,” Gideon started, beginning to feel humiliated now. He knew what went where, he was raised in the country for fuck’s sake, but he didn’t want to hurt anyone. He was so big and everyone else was so, he glanced at Kremy’s tiny waist, small. Delicate.
Kremy reached out a hand and tipped Gideon’s chin up, fingers laced in his beard.
“You want to touch me?” he asked.
“Yes,” fell out of Gideon’s brain and toppled from his tongue before he could stop it.
“You ain’t gonna break me, cher,” Kremy said, and then he smiled with a sly expression. “And I promise I’ll be gentle with ya.”
Gideon stood abruptly, catching Kremy so he didn’t fall. If he didn’t move fast, he’d lose his nerve. Gods, he was so gorgeous. His waist was so thin and his tail was so long and lithe. Kremy made a small sound of protest that blurred to a purr of pleasure as Gideon carried him to his bed. Once deposited there, Kremy moved frantically, like he was in a hurry, pressing his snout against Gideon’s lips in a crushing kiss, tugging at his shirt and yanking it upwards. Gideon squirmed, lifting his arms so Kremy could pull it off him.
A soft sound poured out of Kremy.
“Gods,” he breathed, squeezing one of Gideon’s enormous pecs.
“Fuck!” Gideon blurted as Kremy’s hands molded themselves to his chest, thumbs rolling his nipples eagerly. Gentle, Gideon pressed his lips to Kremy’s neck. Kremy twitched, a small gasp rising. It was a sound he wanted to memorize, no, better, he wanted to make Kremy make it again. His lips suctioned on the thin scales at his neck, sucking until he drew a mark, Kremy gasping and writhing beneath his touch.
He wanted to memorize every part of him. Kremy was gorgeous and utterly, utterly doomed by some machinations beyond that which Gideon could see but somehow he knew with certainty the man beneath his touch was damned. His breath hitched and his fingers gentled along Kremy’s sides, stroking him. Comforting him. Kremy shook.
“The hells are you doin’?”
Gideon frowned.
“Makin’ love to ya, what’s it look like I’m doin’?”
Kremy rolled his eyes.
“Country boy, I don’t want ya to make love to me, I want to fuck.”
Embarrassment washed over Gideon at the comment, but he didn’t let it faze him. He watched as Kremy removed his clothing faster than he thought possible, finding himself accosted and stripped the rest of the way as well by urgent fingers and claws that nicked his skin here and there.
“Didn’t think m’first time’d be jus’ fuckin’,” he mumbled, a little disappointed.
“What was that?” Kremy asked.
“Nothin’,” Gideon said, too distracted now by the vision before him.
Kremy lay on the bed, naked, beautiful. His belly and the insides of his thighs were lighter in color than the rest of him, a metallic gold sheen on them. Gideon rested a hand on his stomach, relishing the view. His hand easily stretched across Kremy’s waist. His eyes flicked to meet Kremy’s. Then he bent, pushing Kremy’s legs apart. What he found glistening enticingly between Kremy’s shapely legs was a slit with lips shiny with slick ooze. Small, smooth scales covered the outer parts that surrounded a delicate pink hole that Gideon desperately wanted to plunge himself inside of.
He made a low noise in his throat. Kremy said nothing as he stared, transfixed by the beautiful hole that opened gently with a wet sound as Kremy spread his legs wider, inviting Gideon, reaching slim fingers down, exposing lips that swelled with arousal.
“You can use your mouth, if you want,” Kremy suggested, demure.
That was all the permission Gideon needed. He kissed them. Gently at first and then he sucked at the tender flesh, his tongue licking curiously out to taste Kremy. Gideon felt arousal course through him, almost going lightheaded as his dick stood stiff between his legs, long and thick and far too large to fit inside of Kremy, surely.
He mouthed at Kremy’s entrance, moaning quietly at the taste and smell of him. Fuck, he was going to embarrass himself if he didn’t settle down. He rubbed around the top of Kremy’s opening with a finger, unsure. Kremy gave a little moan and reached down, as willing to teach as Gideon was to learn. Kremy pressed Gideon’s finger inside himself and Gideon felt the tight hole clenching around him beautifully. To his surprise, he felt a long, stiff length pushing against him, sliding out of Kremy a moment later and expelling his finger forcibly.
Kremy’s mouth hung open as he breathed, high-pitched, desperate little sounds punched out of him as Gideon slid his finger back inside him.
Gideon had found a dirty magazine as a teenager, dropped behind the schoolhouse. Inside it was a drawing of a woman putting a man’s penis in her mouth. He’d thought frequently about it ever since, had spilled himself beneath his bed sheets and into his fist a fair number of times to the thought of someone doing that to him… or the other way around.
He saw his opportunity and took it, sucking the head of Kremy’s cock into his mouth. It wasn’t shaped like Gideon’s; it was slick with a prehensile bifurcated end. The dual tips grasped at Gideon’s tongue and then slid forward eagerly into his mouth, the whole thing lengthening to go deeper. He coughed when the tip flicked across his uvula.
Fingers landed in his hair, blunted claws sliding against his scalp.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Kremy moaned, his hips thrusting until Gideon put a big hand on him, pinning him down and then hollowing his cheeks, slurping eagerly at him. He was rewarded with beautiful sounds pouring from Kremy, hitching breath and little twitches of his thin hips, clenching hard around his finger and then relaxing slightly. Gideon pressed a second finger within him, stretching him, taking his mouth off his cock momentarily to lap at the pretty slit that opened invitingly now, sticky with slick.
Gideon hadn’t done this before, sure, but he reckoned he knew exactly where he wanted to stick his dick now that Kremy was opened and dripping.
“Come ‘ere,” he growled, rolling onto his back and pulling Kremy on top of him, settling him over his hips.
Then he stopped, letting Kremy adjust, slick oozing onto his skin, wetting the ginger thatch of hair nestled above his straining dick. His dick rested in the cleft of Kremy’s cheeks and he resisted the urge to thrust, to force himself inside. He didn’t want to hurt him. Kremy’s tail flicked, dragging along the length of his dick with a tantalizing motion and he groaned and then whimpered and then–
Then it was over, cum spurted all over Kremy’s right ass cheek and the underside of his tail.
Fuck.
“You didn’t?” Kremy asked, seeming like he was trying to keep his expression under control.
“M’sorry,” Gideon muttered.
Kremy glanced down, wrapping a hand around Gideon’s softening dick and squeezing.
“Ought to make fittin’ ya in a little easier,” Kremy said, not unkindly.
The embarrassment Gideon had been feeling fled, replaced instead by gratitude as Kremy bore down, stuffing the head inside his drenched slit.
“Gods have mercy,” Gideon choked out, absently wondering if Rett would be disappointed in him for losing his virginity to someone he’d met in a bar and then immediately brought home.
All thought of what anyone else would think of this act fled as Kremy bore down, the soft, wet press of his lips dragging down his dick more than enough to stiffen it back to interest.
“Oh gods,” Kremy echoed. His palm landed on Gideon’s belly, the size difference between them impossible, almost comical. Kremy’s legs were spread wide to accommodate his sheer width, but now, with his dick hardening inside him, Gideon thought he might actually split him in two.
Gideon panted, trying not to lose control of himself. He wanted to grab Kremy’s hips and gently but irresistibly drive him down onto his dick, but he resisted, just barely, teeth clenched against the animal drive to hump until he was ground to dust.
“Hang on, just, hang on,” Kremy moaned, throwing his head back with a small hiss, tail whipping behind him. He took a deep breath and bore down, humming a soft sound that had Gideon grabbing at his waist to try to stop him.
“It’s alright,” Kremy soothed, and then he nodded. “Never had somebody quite as big as you, cher,” he murmured, eyes hooded with want.
Gideon snorted, feeling a dozen emotions, the strongest of which was jealousy. He didn’t want to think of other men fucking this beautiful body, he wanted Kremy to be his, only his.
He put his hands on Kremy’s waist, enveloping it easily, pressing him down onto his dick. What he lacked in experience, he fully intended to make up in enthusiasm. He’d make Kremy forget all the other men who’d ever dared to touch him. Kremy whimpered, the little muscles in his waist and hips twitching beneath Gideon’s hands as he gently forced him onto his dick, keeping eye contact as he did so, watching for pain or hesitation. Kremy’s legs twitched and he huffed a quick, desperate little grunt as he took more of Gideon’s length.
“Okay?” Gideon murmured, hands roaming Kremy’s sides and chest and ass to comfort him.
“More,” Kremy gasped.
Kremy sank down onto him, Gideon feeling himself pressing inside the tight, wet grip of soft flesh around him, pushing against something inside Kremy and then sliding past it with a gentle suction as they both gasped. He pushed in all the way to the hilt, balls deep inside Kremy and groaned in ecstasy, trying not to spill himself prematurely for the second time that evening. He was fully sheathed inside someone for the first time and he thought he might die of pleasure. What a way to go, though.
“Fuuuuck, you feel fuckin’ incredible,” he managed. “Can you take me this deep? Y’alright?”
“Y-Yeah,” Kremy said, squirming around him like a pinned insect.
Kremy’s body engulfed him, cool and tight and willing. It was overwhelming.
“Oh, that’s good, that’s real good, Gid, oh ffffuck.” Kremy’s eyes were pressed shut as he adjusted. Then, he seemed to regain his cool demeanor, leaning forward and grabbing one of Gideon’s hands to wrap it around his cock, showing him what he wanted.
Gideon’s palm covered it easily and he stroked him gently, moaning and whining like a dog as Kremy began a litany of praise.
“Oh that’s good, that’s so good, just like that, fuck, fuck, yes, just like that, Gid, oh fuck, you’re so big, fuck.”
Gideon’s heart thundered in his chest and he felt his dick twitch so strongly that it shifted Kremy where he was perched across his hips.
Small hands landed on his chest, catching himself as he panted, rolling his hips over Gideon’s.
Gideon heard himself mumbling pathetic, begging requests as Kremy moved up and down on his length. Unable to move for fear of hurting Kremy, he cupped the smaller man’s ass gently and reveled in the high sounds of pleasure that poured out of Kremy as he did so. He paused a moment, lost in the tight grasp of Kremy’s slit.
“Flip me over, fuck me, fuck me hard,” Kremy said, pupils blown into wide, dark circles amid a ring of gold.
His fingers pressed into Kremy’s scales as he flipped them obediently, driving the smaller man into the mattress from behind, holding his tail up carefully as he slid back inside of him.
“Pull it,” Kremy panted. “Pull my tail.”
Gideon recognized it for what it was – an order. He happily obliged, feeling Kremy tighten and twitch around him.
“Fuck me! Fuck me hard! Harder!”
Gideon held back only a little until he realized that Kremy had relaxed, the clench of muscles around his stiff dick voluntary now. He growled out a harsh moan, their hips slapping together as he sought to bring Kremy pleasure, reaching his free hand around Kremy’s hips to stroke him in time to his thrusts.
Kremy tugged his tail out of Gideon’s grasp and slid it between his legs, probing carefully.
Gideon’s hips stuttered in their efforts to hammer the nail that was Kremy Lecroux into the bed beneath him as he felt the slick tip of Kremy’s tail press just within him.
“That alright?” Kremy asked, looking over his shoulder at him.
“Please,” was all Gideon managed to blurt, fingers digging into Kremy’s side now. “Oh fuck,” he mumbled as his tail pressed yet deeper, sliding into him with a slow but inevitable push. The thin tip struck something within Gideon like it was mining aetherium – resolutely and with great repetition. Gideon whimpered, very nearly losing his grip on the second orgasm that tried to break free, but he kept his grip on it, just barely, unwilling to disappoint this beautiful drakona twice in one evening.
Kremy squirmed, rearranging them so he was in Gideon’s lap, both of them sitting up, pressing his tail under his hips and back inside him, his claws grabbing desperately at Gideon’s broad shoulders, his cock pressed between them.
Reaching down, Gideon grasped it, stroking him gently, grinding the head against his own belly.
“Gods, that’s good,” he rumbled, “that’s real good. Gods yer gorgeous.”
A coy smile spread across Kremy’s face, performative, hollow.
“Fuck yeah, that’s good, oh fuck, so good for me,” he panted, but it felt forced now.
Gideon’s free hand cupped Kremy’s cheek.
“Hey. Don’t pretend fer me, darlin’. Does that feel good?”
“Yeah,” Kremy admitted after a tense moment, hips shifting, sliding along Gideon’s thick length.
“Good,” Gideon murmured, pulling him in closer, wrapping his arms around him. He felt it soul-deep, that this man had never been touched gently before. Kremy had not known kindness or kinship or love in this life.
Why did Gideon feel the urge to change that? What was it about this drakona?
Kremy slid against him, almost slithering as he adjusted himself in his lap, tail curled under Gideon’s thigh, claws holding onto him almost desperately. His small horns threaded into Gideon’s beard as Kremy bumped the top of his head against his chin.
For a moment, Gideon just held him, both of them breathing softly in the stillness of their embrace.
Then Kremy moved again, and as though a spell was broken, Gideon grabbed his hips, their motions fast, building, Kremy whining and huffing small noises, Gideon murmuring encouragement now, smiling, thrilled at how Kremy thrust against him.
He felt it build, the need to mark this man, to fill him up.
He should really have asked first, but he lost himself to the push, pull, press, suck of the whole situation, utterly lost in a reality filled entirely by Kremy. Kremy’s body tight and wet around him, Kremy’s tail slick and hard within him, Kremy small and delicate beneath him. Kremy meeting his eyes, something in those golden pools going soft and affectionate, just for a moment, his brows pulling up, his hand cupping Gideon’s cheek.
“Come for me, big man,” Kremy encouraged with a toothy grin and it was Gideon’s undoing.
He tensed, grunting, grasping under Kremy’s ass as he raised and lowered him with wet, slick sounds as Kremy wailed with pleasure, taking Gideon until he was spent and trembling, his release sticky on Gideon’s belly.
Slipping out of him, Gideon stood, legs a little shaky. He staggered to the bathroom and returned with a wet rag to clean them up.
“Well, aren’t you a gentleman,” Kremy commented, digging in his clothing for his tobacco and rolling papers.
They lay side-by-side, Kremy smoking a cigarette, Gideon his re-lit cigar, silence and significance between them.
Tapping his finger definitively against his cigarette to force ash from it, Kremy frowned.
“Well, Mr. Coal, I don’t think I’ve been fucked that thoroughly and that well in a good long while.” He smirked. “You did pretty well for a virgin. Much obliged.”
Gideon laughed a little self-consciously, putting out his cigar. He didn’t know quite what to feel about it, or if he should find this first experience significant or not. Certainly he’d never forget it.
“The, uh, the guest room’s made up if you’d rather sleep in there. O-Or you can stay here. You know, whichever.” Gideon tried not to look at Kremy, but his third eye betrayed him, flicking over to look.
Kremy was watching him with a wary but longing expression.
“No sense dirtyin’ clean sheets,” he said at last.
Gideon blew out the lamp, turning onto his side, one thick arm tucked under his head the way he always slept. Kremy settled in next to him, hesitant at first, distance between them, but as sleep pursued them, he snuggled in closer. Absentmindedly, half-asleep, Gideon pulled him in, tucking Kremy’s back against his front, warming him. A slender tail curled around his leg. They slept like that, tangled together as though they had done this a hundred times before.
Morning came, bright and filled with bird song.
Gideon awakened slowly, like somebody was resting a hand on his shoulder instead of shoving him outta bed. For a moment he couldn’t place the extra warmth pressed atop him, the weight of a tail curled round his thigh. Then memory limped back in—whiskey, BLTs, kisses, Kremy’s small hands on him—and his heart stuttered. Kremy was lying on top of him now, stretched over his belly and legs, snoozing comfortably like he was basking on a warm rock, Gideon’s arm slung over his waist. Gideon shifted, just slightly, and Kremy flinched, eyes sliding open, pupils going to tiny slits. He jerked away from Gideon’s embrace, legs tangling in the sheets in his haste to roll off Gideon.
“Oh, oh fuck, sorry, I, I meant to get gone, didn’t mean to sleep in, I–”
“You ain’t gotta leave,” Gideon assured him, slinging an arm over him to arrest his frantic movements to leave the bed.
Kremy stopped, as though realizing he wasn’t being threatened, that he was still welcome. He smoothed a hand over his head, smiling with the motion, that mask settling back into place.
“Last night, you took real good care of me. Showed me a real good time. You know, if I didn’t know better, I’d doubt I was your first,” Kremy said, narrowing his eyes just slightly before laughing. “Let me return the favor proper, huh?”
He traced a claw down Gideon’s chest, finger sliding through curly red hair there.
“Hey man, this wasn’t ever about favors or nothin’, we’re square.”
Kremy huffed.
“I’m tryin’ to say I’d be happy to roll around in the hay with ya again, ya dumb ox,” he snapped, sighing a moment later. “Sorry.”
Gideon lifted a brow.
“I could roll in the hay again.”
“Mmm. Good. How about this time I take the lead?”
“Oh, uh, sure, okay, you weren’t thinkin’ ta try and put it in yer mouth, though, right?” Gideon asked, hesitant, not much relishing the idea of putting his dick anywhere near those sharp teeth.
“I was thinking something a little more,” Kremy slid his hand over Gideon’s belly and down between his legs, “pleasurable for you.” Gideon raised all three brows, blinking each eye in succession, a little dumbfounded at the offer. Kremy’s tail splitting him where the sun didn’t shine did feel mighty nice last night… Turnabout was fair play, after all.
“Oh. Uh, okay. Sure. Whatever you want,” he said, meaning it.
Kremy was gentle, more gentle than Gideon expected. His hands were careful, moving slowly, giving gentle praise as he pulled a little vial of oil from somewhere and slid his fingers inside him first until he relaxed, his chest rising and falling with big gusts of breath as Kremy had his way with him.
Gideon whined and huffed as Kremy’s free hand roamed over his broad chest, thumbing at first one nipple, then the other before tracing down over his navel to the bright golden-orange thatch of curly hair between his legs, massaging, stroking, making Gideon twitch and gasp.
When Kremy did, at last, line himself up between Gideon’s tree trunk legs, he was gentle then too, pressing forward, watching Gideon’s face, slowing when he tensed, murmuring encouragement as he kissed the back of Gideon’s knee before resting his heavy leg on his shoulder.
Gideon groaned softly as he felt the two tips of Kremy’s cock slip within him, Kremy’s hips pressing forward, driving it within him where it stiffened and thickened, filling him.
It was a little funny watching Kremy buckle under the weight of his legs, so he reached his arms up and held his own ankles instead, letting Kremy rut into him, groaning softly as Kremy thrust against that place inside him that narrowed his world to nothing but pleasure. If he’d thought the tail good the previous evening, Kremy’s cock nudging and kneading against it now was earth-shattering.
He didn’t last long, couldn’t with the way Kremy moved, praised, caressed, smiling down at him sweetly.
With a sharp cry, he spilled himself all over his own belly. Kremy started to pull out, but Gideon managed to get his legs around his waist, holding him there so he came with a ragged cry still buried inside of him.
“Fuck,” Gideon mumbled, panting. He realized he was thoroughly deflowered now and grinned at the thought of it, pleased now that he’d had Kremy as his first, and if he could have his way, only. His chest ached when he remembered that suitcase, the talk of Kremy’s bad contact. Maybe they could find someway to make it work. Maybe Kremy didn’t have to leave. Maybe he could just enjoy the moment and stop overthinking it so much. Well. A man could dream, anyway.
Kremy flopped onto the bed next to him.
“Any chance I can scam you out of breakfast?” Kremy asked.
“Man, if yer runnin’ a scan, yer doin’ a bad job of it. Way I see it,” Gideon dragged Kremy toward him on the bed, “you gave me yer good company yesterday evenin’, let me have my way with ya and then had yer way with me,” he blushed, feeling bashful suddnely. “That ain’t a scam, that’s just,” he searched about for a word…
“Business,” Kremy insisted with a small laugh.
Gideon forced a laugh, but he didn’t feel amusement. The joke burned in his chest like he’d swallowed a hot coal, cheapening what they had done together.
“Lemme make ya breakfast,” he said, stroking Kremy’s cheek and ignoring the way the other man leaned away from the affectionate touch like it was burning him.
Gideon cooked up a skillet full of scrambled eggs, plus porkchops and a fresh pot of coffee.
“So about that carnival,” he began with a fond smile, picking up their plates once they’d finished eating.
Kremy’s face fell.
“Oh Gid. That was just… that didn’t mean anything.”
Gideon took a sip of coffee to cover his disappointment.
“Well, be that as it may, ya ain’t gotta scram just yet. There’s good work to be done here, in Eden. You don’t gotta sell fuckin’ snake oil, Kremy. There’s better things you could do with yer life, man.”
Kremy tensed.
“You think I want this? Think I want to wander from town to town, begging, pleading dumb fools to buy what I’ve got so maybe, maybe I can get out from the thumb of the man I owe a lifetime’s worth of coin to? Well, I don’t. But I ain’t got a choice. You’re a grown ass man, Gideon. All the way grown now,” he snipped and Gideon flinched. That was low. Kremy didn’t stop though. “You oughta learn this lesson sooner than later – you don’t get to choose who you are.”
Gideon turned to look at him fully and his third eye blinked and then went wide. He could see it. A life with this man, one of fun, working on a carnival together, adventuring together, growing old together. He blinked and it was gone as though it had never been.
He took a shuddering breath, collecting himself and turning away to blink away tears that had gathered, unbidden. He nodded bitterly.
“Maybe so, Kremy, but you do get to choose what you do. You can’t change that yer Kremy Lecroux anymore’n I can change the fact that I’m Gideon Coal. It’s what you do with your circumstances that’s the measure of a man.”
“Well, if you’re done fuckin’ philosophizin’ at me,” Kremy hissed, buttoning his shirt the rest of the way up and grabbing his suitcase and hat, “I’ll bid ya ‘farewell,’ Mr. Coal.” He stormed toward the door, his claws clicking against the handle.
“Kremy, wait. Wait, man. Come on. You could stay. I could let ya have the other room. You could work fer Rett, maybe. Hells, we could start that carnival fer real. It could be real, you and me. Come on, man, I know you can feel it between us.”
Kremy turned and smiled sadly, shaking his head.
Gideon followed him, boxing him against the door. Kremy stared up at him as though trying to decide, his shoulders slumped like they bore the weight of the world. Gideon wrapped an arm around his waist, hoping he would stay. Kremy stretched up on his long legs and pressed a gentle kiss to Gideon’s lips, cupping his jaw for one sweet, tender moment.
Then he turned the door handle behind him, pulling it open and out of Gideon’s arms.
“Maybe in another life, cher.”