Chapter Text
Kremy Lecroux was a man well versed in all forms of crime and lowlife activity. Fraud, murder, manslaughter, theft, perjury, you name it. He never once felt a shred of guilt or regret over his actions, they were for his benefit, and often Gideon’s. But this hit different. A cold snake of pure, unadulterated shame coiled itself deep in his gut and tightened itself around his stomach with every passing second. Kremy, having stumbled back from one of the few freehouses that would serve his crew earlier than the rest, had made the poor decision to enter a caravan other than his own. Not by mistake, and not for the first time. See, Kremy was stood in Gideon Coal’s caravan. It was small and minimally furnished, same as the others, with barely any standing room besides the bed, storage and wash basin. Kremy had positioned himself at the foot of the bed, back pressed to the shelves that held Gideon’s precious few personal items, simply waiting.
The minutes ticked by, until all he could hear was his own breathing in the silent midnight air, once he remembered not to keep it held in. Once he finally heard those slow, heavy footsteps come toward him, he closed his eyes, and summoned the shadows that had been gifted to him to envelop him completely, shielding him from the world, and his own creeping guilt. It was the routine. This was far from the first time he had attempted such a sly thing, and it had become a secret pleasure of his. He was no pervert, let it be known. But there was something about simply standing there while his greatest friend in the world slept, the only time he was able to gaze upon his face and admire it. That was what he wanted, and he knew it was quite pathetic. He was a miserable creature in some ways, but he was also a realist. He knew full well that he was not Gideon’s type. He could not be. His dear friend had eyes only for the women that eagerly threw themselves at him in droves, and he would never even think to try to change that. Gideon liked pretty, flat faces, soft, smooth skin and full breasts squeezed into stays. He liked the tittering giggles and swooning, he liked the ruffled skirts and what lay beneath them. He knew he was none of that, and so he would simply take what he could have, and leave the rest to pretty human women, and then help his friend disappear into the night once his appreciation for them landed him in trouble.
He could not stand and think idle things any longer though, as the keys rattled in the door of that tiny caravan. He was surprised Gideon had not yet torn the flimsy door off in his drunken efforts to open it. He waited and watched as Gideon kicked off his boots, swaying a little, and sat down far too suddenly on his bed, making the little box rock on its jammed wheels. This was the routine. Kremy watched as the embers in Gideon’s hair lit the scene just enough for him to see everything he wanted; Those shoulders as he peeled off his grimy, soot-smeared work shirt and stretched, those hips and the curve of his well-defined ass as he slid his much too tight trousers from his body and onto the floor. Hm. He should get him new socks. Those were far too holey. Gideon always fell asleep quickly, especially when he'd had liquor. He would just lie back, half drag the sheets over himself, and fall asleep, letting Kremy engage in his pitiful behaviour.
But he was wrong.
Kremy Lecroux watched in a sickly mixture of horror and deep, deep fascination as Gideon completely undressed, his underwear shucked and discarded on the floor. Of course, Kremy had seen him naked before. That was far from new. While urinating, while bathing, while sunbathing, just because he could, because he had lost or had his clothes stolen, when he had to escape much too quickly from some sexual escapade and needed Kremy to help. But this was different. He held his breath once more as Gideon laid back in his bed, unknowingly facing his friend, cock laid thick against his thigh as that huge man leant over the side of his bed and fished from under it a half empty bottle of oil.
Kremy was no fool, nor was he some boyish young thing who knew little of anything like this. His own guilty pleasure had lined up with one of Gideon’s own, and now he was trapped. His invisibility did not permit him to pass through walls, he had to wait until Gideon was asleep to leave. Two options presented themselves. Either, he stop this before it could go too far, reveal himself, his actions, see the shock and disgust on Gideon’s face, risk utterly destroying their relationship that he relied so heavily upon- Or the other. To stay where he was, silent and undetected. Gideon may never find out. Yes, it was still morally fucked, but the concequences he could at least be rid of. He's already here. Was it so bad? Gideon was an extremely attractive man, and Kremy only mortal. Perhaps this was a repayment for helping him escape his own consequences time and time again? Slowly, he opened his eyes, a shiver running through him at the quiet, slow noises of a man enjoying his time alone. And that was a mistake.
Kremy looked down at his friend, staring at his face, slack and more flush than usual, his eyes heavy lidded and dark, his chest rising and falling in a hypnotic pattern as a slick hand worked over his dick. The shiny red head popped out of his tight fist over and over, only able to wrap around it due to how mammoth Gideon's hands were. He recalled comparing them against his own, and his mouth went dry. He could feel his trousers tightening as he watched, transfixed, but could not move a single muscle to even readjust himself for fear of being discovered.
Sweat beaded on Gideon's forehead, the muscles in his arm bunching and flexing with each pump over his cock as it began to weep a thin precum, knees up and open just enough that Kremy gets an eyeful of his balls, bouncing a little each time. It's hypnotic and he's too warm and the air feels thick and he's dizzy and isn't even sure what's real anymore. He's fairly sure he cannot sweat, but gods he hopes that's true right now. This is all much too similar to countless fantasies that have run through his head late at night, taunting him, ridiculing him for what he cannot have even now.
He has no concept of how much time has passed, completely transfixed, only hearing the sound of his own thumping heartbeat and the low grunts and groans coming from his best friend. Things he should not hear, echoing inside his mind and the hollow caravan, only amplifying his torment. He fights off his own imagination as best he can, squeezing his eyes shut again in some feeble attempt to block the images out. Who did this to him, who had riled him up yet did not leave with him? That hardly ever happened. Perhaps the barmaid, she wasn't his type but she had an impressive bust, he had spotted Gideon eyeing her. Was he thinking of her? Dress mostly still on, beasts bouncing as she rode him, squealing like a stuck pig and yowling like he undoubtedly loved. That was the sort of thing he liked, and it made Kremy feel dirty just thinking about it. He couldn't be that. Have that. Did he want that? His thoughts completely absorbed the conman, dragging him deeper into his own mind, his own insecurities, his own shortcomings.
''Haaa...fffuuuck, Kremy~"
Those breathy words hit Kremy like a wild horse to the ribs, eyes snapping open and refocusing as he gipped onto the wash basin beside him, his only kind of support and reassurance that this was real, that that was real. Was it? His mind wouldn't play such a cruel trick on him, would it? He stood, frozen, helpless to do anything but watch, eyes fixed on the man spread out in front of him, listening to him make sounds Kremy had never even dreamed of being able to hear. But it came again, a desperate keen of his name that made his knees go weak, threatening to buckle under him as he struggled to comprehend anything at all.
He was beautiful, more beautiful now than ever before, the moonlight that peaked through the shutters dancing over his chest, a sheen of sweat over it through the thick hair, the warm glow from his hair illuminating his chiselled face, now one of pure, unfettered pleasure. And he had said his name. Clear as day, he'd heard that, he was sure of it, but Kremy was dragged from his own thoughts yet again as Gideon twisted his body. His hips jutted upwards, stuttering, his fingers tight at the base of his cock. He was trying to make this last. Why? Why! He was powerless to do anything at all, mouth slightly agape to match his friend's as Gideon's chest rose and fell, eyes closed now, his body trembling as he came back from the edge of bliss
He could see the milky beads of pre leaking over Gideon's thick fingers as they began to thicken, marvelling at the sheer quantity. Was that unusual? Why did he care? Try as he might, Kremy knew he own pantsuit trousers were remarkably tight by now, begging for attention he couldn't give. He didn't dare move his head to look down, but he knew what he'd see. Trembling just a little, Kremy Lecroux abandoned all cohesive thought in favour of obeying the writhing, screaming, and oh so often ignored lust in the back of his mind. He felt as though he was watching his own body from afar instead of being in control one bit as he slowly got to his knees, mouth dry and eyes wide as he tentatively began to move forward over the hardwood floors, unsure of what he might actually do or what he wanted. Something. Anything.
Hearing his own name had changed everything. The booze and his own arousal had clouded his thoughts, but it was slowly becoming cemented in his mind what that meant. He might not know exactly how Gideon felt. He might not know if he would want the same things as Kremy, but nobody moaned another person's name while masturbating when they only thought of them as a friend, as nothing else. Ideally, he would take that information with him. Approach the subject in a few days, casually, perhaps over lunch. Test the waters. But this was not an ideal situation. This was a man he had craved for near nine years, and he did not have it in him to simply walk away. Instead, Kremy Lecroux knelt at the end of his friend's bed, thanking the Baron for his body being so much more slender and lighter than Gideon's as he knelt up and began to move forwards onto it. the mattress shifted under his arms, but not enough to be noticed, especially not by a man with much more pressing things to deal with.
His nose was mere centimetres away from Gideon's heavy cock, and he felt almost delirious being so close to it, the very thing that had ignited so many guilt-laden fantasies and dreams from a mere accidental glance every so often. He could feel the heat radiating off it, moreso than even the rest of Gideon's firey body. He had never before been so close to another man's body, not like this, never like this. He had only thought about it, imagined what it might be like. Truthfully, few men had ever interested Kremy, not like Gideon had. It was different. New. But in this moment, it felt like now or never. Kremy Lecroux opened that long, fanged mouth of his, extended his tongue, and pushed himself far enough forward so that the head of Gideon's fat cock might slide over it. Maybe it was the sheer taboo and scandal of the whole thing, maybe it was the pressure of the end of the bed pushing against his own desperate erection, maybe it was just the intense sensational overload that came with the buildup of nine years celibacy and yearning.
Whatever it was, Kremy almost felt like he might pass out when the taste of his friend's hot skin and fluids flooded his mouth, gripping the bed in tight fists to force himself to stay motionless. He was terrified of Gideon accidentally pushing up a little too hard, a little too fast, and nicking himself on a sharp tooth, but there was nothing he could do about that. The moment his wet tongue pressed against his tip, Gideon's hips snapped, his free hand gripping the side of his bed as he began to thrust upward, sweat running down his chest and neck which twisted this way and that as he near thrashed under the new intense sensation right at his peak. He had clearly been making an effort to keep quiet, to not alert anyone, but his attempts were useless now.
Throwing his head back, Gideon Coal began to utter the most obscene things Kremy had ever heard from him, crying out under him as he furiously pumped his fist over his cock, slick with copious amounts of precum that now pooled on Kremy's tongue before dripping onto the bed. Kremy could hardly even comprehend what he was saying, his addled brain picking out his own name over and over and over again, hardly even realising that he had begun to move against the bed, rutting against the hard wood edging through his trousers, muscles beginning to ache with how long he was holding himself up, unable to even move enough to swallow, lithe body trembling with both the effort of maintaining his stance and his own creeping orgasm. The soft head of Gideon's cock hit the roof of his mouth every so often, the backs of his fingers against Kremy's tongue as he simply allowed the man to use his mouth to get himself off. He might not be able to have him in any meaningful way, or perhaps he could in the future, but right now he would take what he could get, and if that meant allowing his body to be used for his pleasure, so be it. It felt like this experience stretched on hours, but it must only have been a few short minutes before Gideon reached the edge and tumbled over into blissful oblivion.
His entire body held itself up, back arched as high as it could go, shaking and twitching and tense, eyes rolled back to the ceiling as he came with a drawn out moan from deep in his chest. Kremy knew what to expect, but he'd never been on the other end of this, holding the same position as he felt hot, thick cum shoot over his tongue, again and again until the man was spent, collapsing down on his bed in a sweaty mess of limbs and hair and fluids.It did not taste good, but Kremy had once been a curious teenager, he knew the taste of semen. He wasn't expecting Gideon to be any different, but he didn't care. He drew back and swallowed, finally looking down at himself to see the damp stain at the front of his pants. A pity, but he couldn't find it in himself too care. He'd have to get the whole thing cleaned after this. But it was worth it. He would deal with the guilt and the shame of his...morally reprehensible act in the morning. He just had to sit here and wait for Gideon to finally fall asleep.
Hold on.
How was he seeing his own body? He shouldn't be able to, right? How long had it been?
Wrapped up in his own thoughts, Kremy hardly noticed one of Gideon's eyes cracking open, a smug little smile on his lips as he pushed himself up on his elbows, a low chuckle betraying his own little scheme.
"Ya know, you could'a just asked me, I would've offered if I knew you were this desperate. You ain't half as sneaky as you think you are."