Chapter Text
It started with a bump of a warm body against his, something that Krauser ignored entirely. He'd figured it was just some rowdy drunk losing his balance. Nothing unusual.
He’d come to this bar at the outskirts of Arklay for only two reasons: to drink and to be left alone. Solitude - social, if not physical - was guaranteed there, as was decent booze and decent prices. Krauser sat, drank, and was able to forget the long, twisted, brutal course of his life. Buzzed, Krauser could briefly live in the moment. No past injuries, mistakes, losses. Just Krauser and a pint of beer. As much as he enjoyed the company of friends, most of the time, he needed solitude.
That’s how most of his nights there went, but this night was different. The person behind him slid a hand across his wide back, but Krauser just figured the person had him mistaken for someone else. Plenty of hookups happened here and it didn’t bother him at all, but it didn’t interest him either.
Then, a man sat down next to him. Also not unusual, although it usually only happened on crowded nights. That night the bar wasn’t even half-full.
Krauser cast a disinterested glance in his direction, surprised when he found the man staring right at him. He was dark-haired with patches of stubble across his chin and jaw, seemingly younger than Krauser, but not by much. He was smaller too, but not slight beneath his worn jacket; leanly muscled by Krauser's estimate.
“What, you’re not gonna buy me a drink?” the man said, quirking his brow.
“Think you’ve got the wrong barstool,” Krauser told him, turning back to his drink. It wouldn’t have been the first time some broad had hit on him, and it definitely wouldn’t have been his first time rejecting one of those broads.
“No, I think I’m right where I wanna be, big guy.”
Krauser glanced back up at him, finding the man all but leering at this point.
“Well, then can I buy you a drink?” the man offered, his eyes telling Krauser everything he needed to know. Whoever he was, he was buzzed and horny and apparently not at all picky.
“Do I look like a charity case?” Krauser asked, shaking his head.
“God, no, big guy. Actually, I’d say you look like the full package,” he continued, smiling a wry, underdeveloped smile. “Tall, blonde, and busty.”
Krauser very nearly choked on his beer. What the hell had this man just said to him?
“I really think you’re looking for someone else,” Krauser insisted, doing all he could to maintain composure.
“Well, I don’t know,” the man said, before he dropped his voice to a low, husky octave. “I’d say of everyone in this room, you’d probably fuck me the hardest.”
It was then that Krauser could feel the room heating up around him. He took another sip of beer and forced it down, ignoring the man’s words. He’d met the type before. One too many drinks and they wanted to start a fight with the biggest man in the room. Unfortunately for Krauser, that usually meant him.
“You’re not turning me down,” he continued, even more devious and deliberate. “Take a good look.” He stretched out, showing Krauser a sliver of skin where his shirt hiked up, his thighs spread out and inviting. “Yeah, that’s it.”
“What,” Krauser finally managed to croak out.
“You like what you’re seeing.”
Krauser stared towards the man, a mix of horror and disgust on his face. Or, that’s what he hoped it looked like.
The man laughed and when the barkeeper gave him his drink, he took a long sip of it, before refocusing on Krauser. “I bet you’re thinking of all the ways you might fuck me.”
Krauser winced, still reeling from how brazen the man was being. Who did this guy think he was?
“Really?” Krauser said flatly and leaned back, having half a mind to just leave. This guy was clearly not gonna leave of his own accord. Something about the conversation, though, absurd as it might have been, gave him pause.
“Your shirt is straining for each breath you take.” The man purred as he pushed closer. “And it’s not all because of those big tits of yours.”
Krauser tensed up, and under any normal circumstance, he should have knocked this joker’s lights out. He had knocked around some chuckleheads who thought they could mess with him before. What this guy was doing, though, it was different. He was different.
“So, how about it?” the man said. “You wanna go somewhere more private and fuck me?”
“You’re out of your mind,” Krauser mumbled, knocking back the rest of his beer.
“Maybe, but most people just call me Leon,” the man said, snickering at his own joke. “And you-” he touched the collar of Krauser’s shirt. “- still haven’t turned me down.”
Krauser grunted, glancing from his empty pint to Leon and back again. This was a terrible idea, even thinking about going off with some stranger who he’d only met under five minutes ago. One who was at best tipsy and very obviously not thinking straight. But then, Krauser must not have been far behind in that department, seeing as being blatantly hit on by some slut in a bar hadn’t sent him into a fury. It was an all around unpleasant decision that Krauser had already made up his mind about, but speaking his mind seemed to be the sticking point here.
He knew better than to give in to this guy. Knew that telling him to piss off just like all the rest was his best option here. It would have been easy to do, and yet...
Krauser was gonna regret everything in the morning, he just knew it.
*****
At the very least, Leon stayed quiet once both of them had exited the bar to head for a motel just down the road. Krauser left it to Leon to get the keys, seeing as he’d made the proposition. The efficiency of the whole process made the old soldier in Krauser smile. It was only half an hour between leaving the bar and getting into the room.
The two of them stepped into the room, first Leon, then Krauser, who closed the door behind them and glanced around. The room was plain, small, just one queen-sized bed across from a TV cabinet, a closet, and a bathroom at the back. Just like the many motels Krauser had spent the night in at one point or another. The only thing remarkable was simply why Krauser was there to begin with.
With the door shut now, it occurred to Krauser that if Leon was planning on chloroforming him and stealing a kidney or two, this would be the right time.
Yet Leon seemed less-than-interested in such an endeavor. Instead, he just got his jacket off, hung it up on the coat rack, and then turned to Krauser.
“So, how do you want me?” Leon cocked and stared at him, but his tone was flat like he was reciting a script.
Krauser scoffed at that. “You invited me, so you tell me.”
Leon’s expression fell, before it returned to a cheeky smile. “Wanna see that dick.” His gaze flickered down to Krauser’s chest. “Those tits too.”
“You’re a real charmer, aren’t you?” Krauser said, refusing to move immediately.
“Oh, yeah. The old Kennedy charm. Works about one time out of ten.”
“Guess that makes me a statistic.”
Casually, as though he was undressing in the locker room, Krauser reached up and tugged his shirt upward. He made quick work of it, peeling it away and chucking it onto the cheap wooden chair by the desk. Nothing he hadn’t done a thousand times before.
Kennedy, though, seemed very impressed by the simple feat.
“Damn,” Kennedy hissed. He took a step towards Krauser, making eyes at his chest. “You’ve got a nice rack. Anyone ever told you that?”
“No,” Krauser said, throat tight and tense, just like the rest of him.
“Damn,” Kennedy repeated, his awe seeming genuine. “Really hit the jackpot tonight.”
“Heh,” Krauser chuckled under his breath. “Sure did.”
Any lightheartedness Krauser felt was cut short as Kennedy reached out and placed both his hands on either of Krauser’s pectorals. It was as though all the air in Krauser’s lungs was sucked out at once, a feeling that he hadn’t felt since being shot at or shelled by enemy forces.
“Oh, fuck, yeah,” Kennedy breathed. “Look at you, stud.”
Kennedy squeezed handfuls of Krauser’s pecs, and that might have even been worse. Krauser growled out his discomfort, but even as such, he didn’t pull away.
“You gonna breed me, big guy?”
“What-” Krauser suddenly felt more than just out of his element. “I don’t-”
“You do,” Kennedy broke in. “Your body’s built for fucking.”
What was Krauser supposed to say to that? He’d been trained for boots-on-the-ground combat, not dealing with- this.
Thank God, Leon’s grip let up, and he waved Krauser towards the bed. “Come on, big guy, get those pants off.”
Krauser huffed and didn’t move. Unlike what Leon had said about him earlier, he wasn’t that easy.
“Alright,” Leon said, reaching up to work his own shirt off. “We’ll make it a show me yours, show you mine.”
Not exactly what Krauser had been angling for, but he could think of worse things than not having to be the only naked one in the room.
It only took a couple seconds before Kennedy’s shirt was in the same pile as Krauser’s, his upper half on full display. Immediately, one thing jumped out at Krauser: Kennedy had scars all around his torso and over his arms. They weren’t as severe or as widespread as Krauser’s own, but this guy had seen a good amount of action of some kind in his day.
“There,” Kennedy said, shrugging his shoulders. “Now we’re even. Might as well take our pants off together so we keep it that way.”
Kennedy didn’t even stop to check if Krauser was following along before he started working his pants down. At the very least, he was a man of his word, so Krauser relented and did the same. Leon had left his shoes at the door, but Krauser had kept his boots on just in case things went sideways. They were promptly placed against a wall before Krauser moved to tend to his pants as well. Even still, his eyes were fixed on Kennedy.
A few more scars were visible on Kennedy’s hips and legs, but not as many. Relative to his upper half, Leon’s legs were smooth and appealing. It was obvious that he kept himself fit, probably for the sake of picking up strange men, although Krauser couldn’t help but notice that his frame seemed wilted, like he’d rapidly lost weight not too long ago.
“Come on. Let’s enjoy each other,” Kennedy said, tossing a travel sized bottle of lube and a couple of condoms onto the bed. “Or, enjoy me, maybe?” He cast a sly glance over his shoulder.
Krauser was almost impressed by his preparedness. Maybe he’d been a boy scout once upon a time. Then again, it only drove his earlier comment about being a statistic further into reality.
“If you say so,” Krauser said. Figuring that he was liable to crush Kennedy if he didn’t, Krauser climbed onto the bed first, reclining into a comfortable position where he had a good view.
Kennedy eyed him with interest, that strange surprise crossing his face once again. Before Krauser knew it, though, it turned to hunger, and Kennedy was climbing over top of him. Looking for his fix, no doubt.
Again, Krauser hissed in a breath as Kennedy’s hands cupped his pecs. If that action was going to be a theme with Kennedy, Krauser wasn’t sure how long he’d last.
Fortunately for him, those hands soon shifted as Kennedy reached down and pressed his palm against Krauser’s groin, only a pair of worn briefs between him and Krauser’s dick. Krauser couldn’t help but be a little self conscious about his utilitarian view of clothing. He absolutely hadn’t meant to end up like this when the night started, but Leon didn’t seem to either notice or care.
“God, I was right. You really are the full package,” he said, trying to wrap his fingers around Krauser’s girth. “Maybe even a little extra too.”
He took his time, feeling out the shape of Krauser, getting an idea of the weight of his cock. Krauser let it happen with little complaint; it was at least better than having his chest groped.
“You’re just big all over, aren’t you?” Leon carried on, grabbing onto Krauser’s hips.
What was Krauser supposed to say to that? He just grumbled and let it happen, even as his body tensed up.
“Jeez, you’d think no one had ever touched you before,” Kennedy said, giving Krauser a long stroke through the fabric. “You and your big cock and tits.”
Krauser could have counted every sexual encounter in his life on one hand, and no one had ever taken the kind of interest Kennedy had in his chest. Not like Krauser minded his own inexperience in that department.
Fortunately for him, Kennedy seemed ready to just get down to business. Without much fanfare, he pulled Krauser’s cock free from his underwear, and tore off the top part of the condom wrapper with his teeth. Krauser had to admit some surprise when Kennedy moved to push it over his cock.
“Hold on,” Krauser said, grabbing on to Leon’s wrists.
Kennedy looked up at him, something strange crossing his features at the touch. He looked torn between confusion and apprehension, as if the touch led him to think Krauser might try to hurt him. The way he tensed under Krauser touch made Krauser realize that he’d no doubt put up one hell of a fight if he did.
“We don’t-” Krauser paused, feeling unsure himself. “You don’t have go straight to that, you know. Not now.”
“What?” he said, quirking his brow. “You want me to suck your dick?”
“Something like that.” Krauser sat up, before moving his hands from Leon’s wrists to his hips.
“What are you-” That was as far as Kennedy got before, on a strange impulse, Krauser was lifting him up off the bed. He had to strain to do so by Kennedy’s hips alone and with poor leverage, but he managed. Kennedy gave a yelp and struggled for purchase, but not for long as Krauser flipped the two of them around, landing Kennedy underneath him on the bed with Krauser’s head coming to level with Leon’s groin.
The wind was clearly knocked out of Kennedy then, and he gasped in a breath. Whatever he’d been expecting, it hadn’t been that.
“Wow,” he breathed.
Not exactly the reaction Krauser had expected. For that matter, he hadn’t expected himself to initiate that maneuver, let alone pull it off. It was just surprise after surprise.
Kennedy had gotten his briefs off with his pants, so Krauser had full access right away. It gave him plenty of space to take in the sight of it. It seemed that being manhandled had him turned on, his cock swelling and flushing to an appealing reddish pink. Krauser ran a thumb along the underside, testing the waters. Kennedy shuddered under his touch.
Krauser’s own dick was now stirring with increased interest. Something about having his hands on this man’s cock was more stimulating than just about anything else that had happened that night so far. Krauser had never thought of himself as being this into just touching another man, but something about this was different. Krauser couldn’t quite pinpoint why.
Right then, thinking wasn’t high on his list of priorities. Instead, Krauser brought the rest of his hand against Kennedy’s cock, giving a light stroke.
“Thought-” Kennedy stammered, twitching as he seemed to fight what he was feeling. “-thought you were gonna fuck me.”
“You told me to enjoy you,” Krauser said, his hand wandering down to feel the weight of Kennedy’s sack. “And I am.”
Kennedy seemed ready to argue before Krauser ran his middle finger along the junction between his balls. That sent a massive shudder up Kennedy’s spine, drawing a groan from him. With that clear sign of approval, Krauser took it upon himself to gently massage Kennedy’s balls, the way he knew would drive the guy up the wall.
Sure enough, Kennedy was writhing within seconds just from being worked by Krauser’s hand. The guy talked big about Krauser never being touched, but he sure seemed sensitive. Maybe his other hookups hadn't given him much reach around.
Feeling merciful, Krauser let up on Kennedy’s balls to stroke further up the shaft, feeling how it had filled out in such a short amount of time. He had the most uncanny instinct to test the girth of Kennedy with his mouth. His cock wasn’t huge, but it certainly wasn’t small, and Krauser doubted he’d have any issues with it. Was it appropriate to blow someone the first time? He supposed that if he already had a hand on it, going further wouldn’t hurt.
Krauser leaned in and took Kennedy’s dick into his mouth.
“What the hell-” he heard Kennedy gasp, like all the air had been pushed out his lungs at once.
Maybe Krauser should have pulled back, but he kept on going. He gave a suck at the head, an act that only drew more choked, over-pleasured sounds from Kennedy’s mouth. The prettiest sounds Krauser had heard from him all night. He bobbed his head and took Kennedy deeper.
“Fuck!” Kennedy cried out. “Fuck, you- crazy fuckin’ son of a-”
Krauser hoped that no one would hear the two of them, if only because it sounded like he was murdering Kennedy at that second. Maybe that wasn’t too unusual around here.
Still working Kennedy’s cock with his hand, Krauser moved back far enough to glance up at him.
“What,” he started. “You want me to stop?”
Kennedy was shielding the lower part of his face in an absurdly demure fashion, eyes half-lidded and shiny.
“Well?” Krauser asked again when Kennedy made no attempts to speak, jerking him off a little slower. “Should I just…?”
“No!” Kennedy moved his hand, and with it his expression had changed. “No, I - keep going.”
Krauser didn’t have to be asked twice, and he quickly engulfed Kennedy’s cock once more, drawing another moan from his lips in the process.
He was so receptive to everything Krauser did, his legs trembling as Krauser pushed them further apart, and when he took him all the way in, Kennedy’s hands were in his hair. For each dip of Krauser’s mouth, Kennedy’s fingers tightened, and Krauser grunted low at the near-pain of it. Perhaps Kennedy was better at taking cues than accepting a blowjob, because he did it harder. Krauser groaned again, his erection bordering on painful, and he moved his free hand down between his own legs.
“Fuck,” Kennedy breathed, and Krauser wasn’t entirely sure if that was a comment on Krauser’s oral skills, or the fact that he’d started jerking himself off.
There was just something about this guy that drove Krauser up the wall. The contradictory mixture of jaded and innocent, the way he’d almost pushed himself upright with how tense and trembling he was. And although Krauser appreciated the string of curses, it was the sounds of pleasure that really threatened to do him in.
Any reluctance that Kennedy had started the encounter with had since melted away. Krauser was sucking and licking his cock, and his fingers migrated from Krauser’s hair to his face, and he sat up further as he moved his hands down towards Krauser’s chest again.
“Such a big tittied stud,” he mumbled between moans, some confidence gained, before pinching Krauser’s nipples enough to elicit a strangled hiss from him. “Look at you.”
Krauser wasn’t entirely sure how he felt being called that, but he knew he enjoyed the way Kennedy sounded saying it. Enjoyed the way his cock felt in his mouth, and how Kennedy’s body felt under his hand. It was something he’d seldom imagined himself enjoying so much, and yet here he was.
And, more than that, he was enjoying that Kennedy was enjoying it. It was a strange thing to think about. Already Kennedy seemed on the brink of climax, precum dripping onto his tongue with ease.
“You like sucking off sluts?” Kennedy asked, his lips parted. Krauser could only hum against him.
At that Kennedy’s cock spasmed at the same time as the rest of him tensed up. He bucked his hips and let out a long groan, grabbing for Krauser’s hair. Krauser had to grab Kennedy’s hips to steady him as he kept swallowing on his cock the whole time.
Kennedy’s cum came thick and fast, and Krauser had little trouble swallowing it all in time. It was far from the worst thing Krauser had put in his mouth, better than some of the MREs he’d been allocated in his time. Waste not, want not and all that.
Within a few seconds, Kennedy’s cock had gone soft and his body limp in turn. As his muscles relaxed, his chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath. It was- an appealing look. Krauser pulled off his cock to take in the view quietly.
“What- what’s wrong with you?” Kennedy gasped after a moment.
“What?” Krauser chuffed, enjoying the little role reversal. “You’d think no one had ever blown you before, boy scout.”
“You fucking-” Kennedy sneered like he was going to bite back before his eyes wandered down to Krauser’s groin. “That- actually turned you on?”
Krauser chuckled at how Kennedy’s eyes went so wide, rubbing his hand over his dick once more. “You have to ask?”
In that moment, a flush came over Kennedy’s face, maybe just a post-orgasm effect, but his eyes remained fixed on Krauser’s cock.
“Want me to take care of that for you?” he offered. “Seeing as I finished before you.”
“I can handle myself,” Krauser said, giving Kennedy a wry half-smile. “Sounds like you just want to get your hands on me.”
Kennedy chuckled uncomfortably at that. “Maybe. Sure wouldn’t mind.”
Taking that as a positive response, Krauser pushed himself up to lay down on the bed next to Kennedy.
“God, you’re fucking big,” Kennedy said as he was inched towards the very edge of the bed.
“Bet that’s what you tell all the boys.”
“Yeah, sure, but there’s big and then there’s you.” Kennedy got the cheekiest grin on that comment. “Never seen a nicer rack than yours.”
He reached down to brush over Krauser’s dick experimentally. “And you’re pretty hung too.”
“Kind of a slut, aren’t you?” Krauser murmured, hardly thinking about it.
Despite his words, he allowed Kennedy to touch. He knew what he was doing, obviously, making light strokes up and down Krauser’s shaft. Krauser just rested his hand against his core and let Kennedy work. After the intensity of the blowjob, this was damn close to relaxing.
“You’re good at that,” Krauser rumbled, nodding his head lazily.
“So I’ve been told,” Kennedy said.
“Really makin’ yourself out to be a whore, huh?”
Krauser allowed his eyes to shut, leaving him with only the feeling of Kennedy ramping the handjob up. Each stroke grew more solid, more insistent, and with Krauser already worked up from oral, he knew it wouldn’t be long.
In the few times he’d had sex, getting to orgasm was usually an energetic affair, with Krauser doing most of the work. This was- nice. It was hard to find a better word for it other than just nice.
It was so nice that he hardly realized what was happening before he was hit by the tell-tale sparks of the end. He hissed as his cock twitched, but it wasn’t any kind of strain. If an orgasm could be described as smooth, like a good glass of scotch, then that was what this was.
He was vaguely aware of Kennedy chuckling.
“Play hard, come hard, huh, big guy?”
Krauser didn’t reply to that, and he kept his eyes shut.
“What, you already falling asleep, old man?” Kennedy kept prodding.
“You want round two, talk to me in the morning,” Krauser replied, keeping his eyes firmly shut.
“Round two,” Kennedy echoed. “What makes you think I’m up for a second round?” Despite the words, his tone was bordering on playful. “Thinking a bit highly of yourself, huh?”
Krauser could only shrug. “You seem like the type to double dip.”
There was a pause and then Kennedy bust out a long laugh as he slid further down onto his back.
“Can’t say you’re all wrong,” he admitted, as his laughter died down and he was hit with a yawn. “Maybe I wouldn’t say no another time.”
“Maybe, huh?” Krauser moved over slightly so Kennedy could stretch out comfortably. “You really are a flatterer.”
Kennedy was silent as he laid down next to him, not getting too close, but still benefitting from Krauser’s body heat. He was the type to steal blankets, Krauser was sure.
Then again, what did that matter? Krauser was just another one-night stand in a long line. Another notch in this guy’s bedpost.
Still, he wasn’t the worst bedfellow Krauser had ever had, not even close. His breathing was a pleasant bit of a white noise, and he wasn’t snoring yet. With that in mind, Krauser made himself comfortable, relaxing against his pillow.
For the final time that night, Krauser let his eyes open and he gave a glance Kennedy’s way. By this point, the guy was halfway to being asleep himself, and he didn’t notice Krauser’s peeping tom act. It was the first time he’d really looked at Kennedy, at least, a Kennedy who was unguarded, and without any pretense. His hair was dark, but something gave Krauser the impression that it had been much lighter at some point. Much like the man himself. Krauser could imagine, beneath a thick layer of cynicism built up across a hard lifetime, a more jovial character. It was puzzling. But maybe he was reading too much into just a look.
Either way, something about him made Krauser wish it could be more than some meaningless encounter. There was something about him - something about the two of them - that made it feel worth pursuing.
The last thing on Krauser’s mind before he fell asleep was if Kennedy would agree.
*****
When Krauser opened his eyes once more, he was alone. The only evidence of last night’s rendezvous was the remains of his own climax just above his groin. If Krauser hadn’t woken up in some seedy motel room, he might have assumed he just dreamed it.
Krauser gathered himself up, got dressed, and checked out for good.