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Astarion sat uncomfortably on the metal bleachers that had spent too much time baking in the hot sun. Luckily, he had worn shorts long enough to cover his thighs, otherwise he would probably be peeling himself from those same bleachers. The stands weren’t terribly crowded, no doubt an off-season all around despite it being a weekend. A few families sat scattered about the seating area but it was empty enough that they weren’t elbow to elbow. In front of him just on the other side of a concerningly short wall hosted an island of sand surrounded by a murky moat. Upon that island lay a beast of a crocodile, a light gray color and with a mouth of teeth that could probably shred someone to pieces effortlessly.
That didn’t seem to deter Gale, who was mounted on the creature with a bright grin framed by that scratchy beard that had become a familiar feeling on Astarion’s chin these past few days. He was dressed in a uniform today, no doubt for the show, a tan button-up, and an outback hat fit for Steve Erwin himself. The sleeves were rolled to his elbows, revealing those forearms that Astarion had found himself completely taken by. He felt absolutely feral, the urge to bite them suddenly making itself present. He supposed it was a good thing that the crocodile Gale was perched on wasn’t in the same frame of mind.
“This is Bonecrusher ,” Gale announced dramatically into the mic clipped at his ear, pulling the nose of the animal up with his bare hand. “This beautiful girl is a crocodile; does anyone know how to distinguish between a crocodile and an alligator?” Gale flashed Astarion a look with those big brown eyes, which caused his stomach to do a little summersault.
Gale ran his finger across Bonecrusher’s nose. “The shape of their snout is the main indicator, as well as the sheer size of their jaw.” He ran his hand down a scaled throat. “While both are dangerous, crocodiles are more so in that they have a bite force of 5,000 pounds. You definitely don’t want to find yourself in the mouth of one of these.”
I have a mouth you can find yourself in , Astarion thinks to himself.
“Are we having fun yet?” Gale encouraged, the croc wiggling slightly beneath him. The small crowd clapped and cheered in response. “Good, who wants to see me open up her mouth?”
Another chorus of cheers from the stands and Gale pinched the underside of the crocodile’s chin and began prying it open. The lizard squirmed from between Gale’s thighs until she relented, jaws opening to reveal rows of razor-sharp teeth.
“Crocodiles have a varying amount of teeth, but this one in particular has eighty on top and forty on bottom. Their teeth continuously fall out and are replaced over their lifetime, so the amount can vary.” Gale’s fingers were curled over the top of the snout, one wrong move would leave him fingerless, though he seemed completely unbothered by that fact. “Could you imagine being a crocodile’s dentist? They’d have their work cut out for them!”
Astarion chuckled with the crowd at his corny joke. His amusement was interrupted by his phone vibrating in his pocket. Cazador , of course. Who else? Astarion tapped into the earpiece. “Yeah?”
“I expect a call this evening with news that you’ve secured me three of those beasts. You’ve been down there for nearly a week ‘gathering intel’. What exactly are you doing? Get the biggest fucking alligators and get back before I send someone more capable!”
“Actually, the crocodiles are bigger just so you know,” Astarion snarked.
“Alligator, crocodile, I don’t give a damn. If I don’t get good news soon, I’ll make sure you’re the first person I test them out on. At least you’ll be able to identify them beforehand, as useless as that’s going to be.”
Astarion sighs, internally rolling his eyes. “Yes, sir.”
At the end of the call, Astarion began zoning out of the show. Gale’s educational elucidation became background noise to the swirling anxiety now taking place in his mind. It was no mystery to Astarion that he had become too close to the alligator wrangler, having spent the last several days in various compromising positions with the man while simultaneously ignoring his objective. He might as well lay in the cart of viscera next feeding time if he didn’t do as his boss asked. Still, this was the happiest he had been in several years, having found solace amongst the overgrown lizards and their gentle caretaker. The thought of throwing everything else away and staying here crossed his mind, but the nature of his occupation would not allow for such things. Cazador would no doubt want his assets back and would stop at nothing to get it.
“Astarion?” a voice pulled him from his rumination. Gale stood at the bottom of the bleachers, his shirt now pulled off and thrown over his forearm to reveal a lavender and indigo tie-dyed shirt, the top speckled with various wheels of designs. Astarion was amazed at the number of tie-dyed shirts Gale possessed, a different one for every day it seemed.
“Oh, sorry darling. Was a little distracted.” Astarion stood and stomped down the noisy bleachers until he was standing next to Gale. The rest of the crowd had already filed out, leaving them alone.
Gale’s eyes were laced with some mixture of affection and hunger, a look that was quickly making Astarion’s cock stir with interest.
“I need to clean out a few emptied habitats to make space for a few incoming gators. Would you like to help? May help me finish up quicker for more interesting pastimes,” Gale offered.
The idea of getting disgusting and cleaning out alligator pins was not on Astarion’s bucket list, but his cock was doing the talking now and that meant he’d quicker be tangled up in Gale’s limbs again.
“Well lead the way, crocodile dundee,” Astarion waved his hand.
Gale’s lips curled into a smile that sparkled in his eyes. “Wonderful, I’ve got a change of clothes you can borrow so that those don’t get ruined. Follow me.”
Astarion resisted the urge to take his hand as they wound around the network of different exhibits, and once back into the main park, Astarion could hear Tom Petty belting out a line from ‘don’t come around here no more.’
“Are you all aware there are other artists besides Tom Petty? I swear I’ve heard more Tom Petty in the last few days than the rest of my life combined,” Astarion complained as they came up to what looked like an employee lounge, a metal outbuilding in disrepair. He nearly stumbled over yet another mini wooden alligator with an ‘employees only’ sign, this one dressed in sunglasses and a beach shirt.
“Not a Tom Petty fan? Come on Astarion, don’t do me like that.” Gale said with a sly grin, holding the door to the building open for him.
It took Astarion a few moments before it hit him. “Oh, hah hah . Very funny.”
“The truth is we have started to cut corners to save money. One of those being the Spotify subscription, so I just happened to have a Tom Petty CD in my car. We haven’t bothered to swap it.” Gale gestured to the computer that displayed an album cover of Tom Petty himself posing with a guitar.
“Spotify subscription, really? That’s what, twenty bucks a month?” Astarion said incredulously, taking note of the outdated furniture spread across the room. There was one of those single fridges in the corner with a passive-aggressive note warning someone about stealing lunches next to several cubbies with things crammed into them.
Gale shrugged, rummaging around in one of the spaces. “I’d listen to Tom Petty on repeat for the rest of my life if it meant we cut fewer corners for the gators. They didn’t ask to be here, so it’s not fair to deprive them, regardless of our financial standings. That was one of the things the ex and I had always disagreed on.”
Gale’s eyes lidded and his lips curled down anytime he talked about his ex. Astarion hadn’t met the woman, apparently she only visited the park when it was absolutely necessary. It may be for the best, he might be tempted to push her into the lagoon of alligators she was insistent on neglecting.
“Ah, here you go,” Gale said in victory, producing a red tie-dyed shirt and another pair of jorts. “They might be a little big on you.”
Astarion shook his head, a chuckle rumbling his chest. “How sweet, matching outfits. Be careful; people might start getting ideas about us,” he said, letting his voice take on a purr. He began peeling his current shirt from his body, making an obvious show of it.
The apples of Gale’s cheeks burned a bright red, which brought Astarion a lot of gratification.
“Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad idea.” Gale’s eyes were raking over him, his hands twitching at his sides. It gave Astarion a deep thrill to see Gale so taken by him simply standing there shirtless.
They weren’t going to do habitat cleaning anytime soon.
"Please?" Gale said oh so softly.
"Yeah," Astarion answered even softer.
Gale’s hands and mouth were on him in an instant, lips sucking hot hickies over his neck and down to his bare shoulders. Astarion could do nothing but tilt his head back and let out a desperate moan. He was just as much chained to this desire as Gale was. They had been with each other several times over the last few days, but it didn’t seem to dampen the magnetic and feral want they were harboring for one another.
Astarion felt wet, soft lips trailing further south across the expanse of his chest until they made landfall at his nipple. “Mmmmf, fuck. Gale”
Something about this man’s mouth made him insane. A greedy tongue flicked across the peak of the throbbing nub, which nearly had Astarion collapsing, his legs shaking beneath him. Astarion slid his fingers into brown locks, the hat and hair tie falling to the floor simultaneously to join his carelessly discarded shirt. He massaged at his scalp, eliciting a mumble of pleasure from the man below him.
Before he knew it, the alligator handler was on his knees, eyes full of an unbridled craving. Gale was pawing at his shorts, Astarion’s erection already trying to break free of its confines. It was almost enough to distract him from the fact that another employee could walk in at any moment and find Gale with his mouth full. He didn’t have much time to worry about it, because the feeling of lips curling over his cock head dismissed any other thoughts he was having.
Astarion’s knees were buckling from the intense pleasure coursing through him, and he had to stare at the lines of the metal roofing to prevent himself from ending this all too quickly. His fingers were still twisted into Gale’s soft mane of hair, and he could feel the motions of him beginning to bob his head, his cock sinking deep into the warm inviting chasm of that sweet man’s mouth.
Gale let out a low rumble of satisfaction, which caused Astarion to gasp in pleasure. He chanced a peek to the man before him, to see gentle eyes just below the fluttering of eyelashes. Gale’s free hand was securely wrapped around his own cock, pumping it with vigor. The sight alone was almost enough to make Astarion burst.
Instead, he shut his eyes and focused on the sound of Tom Petty’s voice echoing from the speaker systems outside. Even Mary Jane’s last dance wasn’t enough to distract him from Gale swallowing his cock down to root, his nose nestled to the light patch of hair dressing his pelvis. Gale choked slightly, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes and his throat spasming around Astarion’s near-to-spill cockhead.
“Oh, fuck I’m so close,” Astarion warned the man before him, his hands tightening in tawny locks.
Warm, brown eyes met his again, and he was greeted with a wink of encouragement. That was all it took as Astarion wrapped his hand around the back of Gale’s neck and spilled hot down his throat, a shudder running from his core out through his limbs.
Gale pulled back, wiping the saliva from his chin and tucking his still-hard erection back into his jorts. He came to his feet, his hands intertwining with Astarion’s as he pressed their lips together with an impassioned kiss. He tasted the evidence of his release still lingering on Gale’s tongue as the slick muscles invaded each other’s mouths, some mixture of cinnamon big red and slightly salty.
“I need to go before someone comes looking for me,” Gale mumbled into Astarion’s lips.
“You don’t want to finish?” Astarion asked, trailing kisses down across Gale’s neck.
A delightful groan came from Gale’s chest. “Time for that later…”
“Well, then there’s no time to lose.” Astarion picked up the shirt Gale had lent him from the floor from where it was dropped in their passion, and threaded his arms through red tie-dyed sleeves, pulling it over his head. It was quite large on him, falling below his hips. The jean shorts weren’t much better, falling down his thighs anytime he released them.
“Oh, here I’ve got something for that.” Gale turned and rummaged in a drawer in the desk the Tom Petty monitor was sat upon, and produced some twine and scissors.
“I’m going to look like a real beacon of fashion with jean shorts and a twine belt. I can already hear the damn banjos.” Astarion held his shorts up at the hip.
Gale stood before Astarion, his hand carefully holding a jort-covered waist as he moved the twine through the belt loops, around the back, and tied it in the front. “I don’t think you could look bad even if you tried.”
Astarion ignored the way that compliment made his heart skip a beat, and instead held his arms out, inspecting his new outfit. “The shirt is covering the shorts, it looks like I’m not wearing pants!”
Gale snorted, and bunched the shirt up, tying it in a knot off to the side. “There.”
“If we are done playing dress up in the trailer park, I’d like to get this over with.” Astarion placed a hand on his hip.
Gale shook his head, “hmm? Oh right, yes. The cleaning.”
Astarion’s eyebrows slowly raised. “Is this outfit doing it for you, Gale?”
“You do it for me in general, but yes seeing you in my clothes is definitely doing it for me.”
Astarion felt his core light with interest. “Let’s go quickly or we will never make it out of this employee lounge.”
Gale pulled his hair back into that little bun, nodding in agreement. “Let’s go.”
Back out in the humidity, Astarion trailed Gale back through the winding park, his eyes focused on Gale’s hand swinging idly at his side. It was so damn silly, but he really wanted to hold this man’s hand.
“Gale?” Astarion said hesitantly.
“Hmm?” Gale peered over his shoulder with interest.
They had seen each other completely ass-naked, been inside each other, slurped on one another’s dicks, and here Astarion was, scared to ask to hold his hand. What a fucking joke. Still, he froze, the question instead coming as a lump in his throat.
“Is everything alright?” Gale seemed genuinely concerned, his brow furrowing in worry.
“Yes, it’s just I’d like to-” The lump appeared again. Holy shit, why is it so hard to ask?
“You’d like to…?” Gale pressured.
“Hold your hand?” Astarion mumbled barely over a whisper. He thought it was ridiculous and felt his cheeks warming over in embarrassment.
Gale’s eyes immediately softened, and he stepped forward, taking Astarion’s hands in much the same way he had the first day they met. “Anytime, anywhere, I’d hold your hand.”
The tenderness and sincerity in Gale’s voice moved him into a territory he had been trying to avoid since he first leaped from that creaking train and felt the draw of something more than simple physical attraction. Now, the alligators as his witness, Astarion had officially ventured into forbidden territory: public hand-holding .
Gale curled his warm, strong fingers in between Astarion’s slender ones, and offered him a reassuring smile. “Ready?”
Astarion simply nodded, and Gale began dragging him along the pathing once more, their hands intertwined. Some people gave them questioning stares, but Gale didn’t seem to care or notice, so Astarion chose not to either.
“Here it is.” Gale stopped in front of an empty habitat, a grassy and muddy area that had already been cleared of its previous residents. Gale pulled a ring of jingling keys from his pocket and opened the wooden gate door.
Astarion followed him in, immediately sinking ankle-deep into mud.
“Watch your step, if you’re not careful you’ll lose your shoes in there.” Gale was rummaging in a small nearby shed and produced two shovels. “The main thing we need to do is make sure all the dung is cleared from the area for the landscaping crew, then we can get the pool nets and skim the wading areas for any debris or trash guests may have thrown in.”
Astarion accepted the shovel and peered down where he had begun to sink into the mud, his socks dampening. He watched Gale trudge over to the grassy area, and sink his shovel into piles of alligator shit.
Back home, Astarion was treated to luxuries many only dreamed up, such is the life of a consigliere. Fancy wines, clothes, and parties with attractive people hanging off your arm were amongst the things he found himself privy to. Somehow, being here with Gale, knee-deep in shit and mud, wearing an outfit only suitable for an appearance on Duck Dynasty, he was happier than he had ever been.
Astarion tugged his sinking feet from the ground and made his way over to Gale, his shovel at work. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed as he continuously scooped and tossed into a nearby wagon, but Gale filled the void with idle chatter of alligator habitat necessities and proper enrichment. Astarion would occasionally take a break, just to watch Gale shoveling diligently, his arms flexing with each swift scoop. At least he knows now how the alligator handler managed to be so deceptively strong.
Gale wiped his forehead with the back of his arm. “Almost done. Let’s skim the pools and we are done.”
They moved to exchange their shovels for pool skimmers and began fishing out whatever had made its way into the water. Astarion knew people didn’t give a shit in the worst of times, but the number of BBQ trays, plastic bottles, and wrappers he fished out of the pond was astonishing. As if he needed any more of a reason to hate everyone.
“People really are the worst,” Astarion said, dumping yet another tray into the wagon. “You should have a rule that any guest that is caught dumping their trash into the exhibits have to sacrifice one limb to an alligator for repentance.”
Gale laughed at that, tossing a Budweiser can from his net. “They are the worst. But the good ones make up for it.”
After they were done fishing for trash, Gale gestured to the gate. “That’s good. If you’d like, there’s a shower in the employee building. Everyone is probably left for the day, so you shouldn’t be bothered. Just drop your net in the shed. I’ll do away with this garbage.”
A shower wouldn’t go amiss, Astarion hadn’t been this filthy since he helped Cazador dispose of unmentionables as punishment that one time.
“Alright, but don’t be long,” Astarion lilted, slinging the pole net over his shoulder and walking with as much sway as he could manage. One look over his shoulder gave him the gratification of Gale watching him with great interest.
Astarion had almost lost his way back to the employee lounge, having not been paying much attention admittedly when they wound their way around towards the empty habitats, his mind occupied on other things. The sunglass-styled employee's only alligator effigy to the shin was a quick reminder that he was going the right way.
“Son of a-” Astarion bit his lip, slightly limping up to the metal outbuilding again, the door shutting behind him with a loud clunk . He was covered in mud and other unmentionable things practically head to toe, his formerly red tie-dye shirt now an unsightly stained brown color. The employee lounge had a hallway with doors on either side signifying bathrooms, and he turned left into the men’s. The lighting overhead was a copy of the fluorescent bulbs that hummed overhead in the ‘medbay’, and it was on its last leg, casting almost a romantically low-lit atmosphere across the brown tiled floor and wooden stalls. A shower was tucked away in a back corner, small but inviting, especially when you were covered in literal shit. Astarion drew back the shower curtain, which was printed with alligators in rows with their mouths open, a heart in each opened jaw. He twisted the knobs until a shivering cold spray sputtered out of the showerhead.
Peeling out of his dirty clothes, he tossed them onto the floor and tested the water with his fingers. After reaching his desired temperature, he stepped in, immediately relaxing, the water wetting his hair and pouring over his face and down his chin.
“Astarion?” Gale’s voice called from outside the shower. “I see you found it. I brought you a towel and your clothes. Do you need soap?”
A glance around the empty shower revealed that he was indeed soapless. “If you don’t mind.”
There was the sound of the bathroom door shutting and reopening before Gale’s voice came again. “I’ve brought you some body wash.”
Astarion peered his head from the shower curtain. “What are you waiting for? Bring it over!”
Gale pressed his hand over his eyes, walking over with a red bottle in his hands. “Sorry.”
His chest bubbled with a mixture of affection and humor as he watched the man that was on his knees just a few hours prior with Astarion’s cock down his throat, covering his eyes to preserve Astarion’s modesty. “What are you doing?”
Gale finally reached the shower with his careful and blind steps, and Astarion could see that it was a bottle of Old Spice 3-in-1 shampoo, conditioner, and body wash combo. Because of course, it was.
Astarion took hold of Gale’s forearm, and snatched the soap from his hand, placing it gently on the built-in shower shelf behind him. “You’re ridiculous,” Astarion said in a low voice, unsure why he was whispering now. Thin fingers slid across the hand covering Gale’s eyes, and with little resistance, Astarion tugged it down.
Eye contact had never affected Astarion as much as it did before, as soft brown eyes bore into his with a devastating amount of emotion that was boiling his own over in his gut and chest. Some heady mix of longing, arousal, and trepidation lit his veins aflame and began to surge downward for the umpteenth time that week.
Astarion’s eyes must have also betrayed his interest because Gale was shedding clothes at record speed, brown-tinged purple tie-dye muddling with Astarion’s red in a pile on the bathroom floor. The shower was small, so Astarion had to back up against the wall to allow space for Gale. Water cascaded over a tanned, hair-dusted chest and over an ample, equally fuzzy, and soft stomach.
“Can I wash you?” Gale asked sheepishly, water pouring over his face from the awkward cramped space.
“Such a gentleman,” Astarion ran his hands across the plush soft stomach in front of him. “How could I say no?”
Gale squirted a generous amount of 3-in-1 into his hand. “Turn around for me.”
Astarion obliged, turning his back to Gale.
“Tilt your head back.”
Astarion did, and Old Spice-coated fingers began filing through his hair, pleasure rippling from his scalp and further downwards. Experimentally, Astarion arched his back, pressing against Gale and, oh yes , he was just as turned on, with a catch of his breath too, just audible over the sound of the water hitting the floor beneath them.
Slicked hands began trailing dangerously downward across Astarion’s spine, and he felt Gale pressing against him, a soft stomach slotting into the curve of his back, like a puzzle piece. Soaped-up hands massaged at the mounds of his ass, and Astarion could feel a hardening length slot between them.
Astarion could do nothing but desperately grasp at the edge of the shower as Gale rutted against him, slippery and wet and cushioned between the soft globes of his rear. A cinnamon-scented moan ghosted across his ear, and lips made landfall against his shoulder, kissing and sucking methodically.
Gale’s arm trailed up Astarion’s, and with a swift motion, he jerked him around nose-to-nose. “I want to see you… During. Is that okay?”
Astarion nodded eagerly but wasn’t prepared for Gale to suddenly lift him and press him against the shower wall, strong hands hooked under his knees. He could only brace himself on the flimsy curtain rod to his left and the pitiful shower shelving to his right, sending Old Spice hurtling to the floor with a loud bang.
“Oh shit,” Astarion grinned, wrapping his legs around Gale’s waist.
“Collateral damage,” Gale shrugged with a grin of his own.
Gale’s cock lay wet and sudsy with soap next to Astarion’s. Carefully, he adjusted himself and tilted Astarion’s hips, attempting entry. Astarion felt himself flutter as the intrusion stretched him, past the initial resistance, until Gale was fully seated.
“Both of us are going to end up hospitalized in this position,” Astarion said with a breathy groan, but the danger was quickly becoming an afterthought as Gale thrust upward.
“A risk I’m willing to ta- ah,” Gale’s word was cut off with a grunt as he pressed himself in upwards, his eyes trained on Astarion’s.
The grip on the shower curtain increased tenfold as Gale hit the perfect angle, and Astarion mewled, his head falling back against the wall. Gale began to set a relentless pace after he found what he was looking for, pressing against that sweet spot with pleasure-binding accuracy.
Astarions arms began to shake and he felt himself losing the battle, his right hand struggling to keep hold of the slippery surface of the shower shelf. Astarion opened his eyes and looked down at the man before him, soaked brown strands of hair pressed to his cheeks, eyes lidded in pleasure, and shoulder muscles tensing from the exertion of the situation.
Astarion slipped a little as the hand clasped firmly against the back of his thigh retreated, and instead cupped against his face. The new position was somehow all it took, and Astarion’s mouth lulled open as his cock painted his stomach with one final thrust. It seemed Gale wasn’t far behind him, as he felt the tell-tale pulsing deep within.
The shower curtain made a concerning noise, and before either of them could react, broke from the wall and sent them both to the floor, cocooned in an alligator-printed shower curtain.
“Oh fuck, are you okay?” Astarion untangled the curtain from them, and found Gale with the goofiest grin on his face. “Well? Don’t just lay there! Are you hurt?”
But Gale’s eyes screwed shut and his stomach began moving with laughter.
“Are you alright?” Astarion tried again, but Gale was too caught up in a fit of giggles to respond. “Stop laughing!” Astarion tried, but he already felt his own cheeks begin to rise with amusement. “We could have broken something, that was a stupid idea,” Astarion said through spurts of laughter.
Gale’s arms captured Astarion, and they lay naked upon the shower curtain, laughing like fools on the bathroom floor.
Finally, after they could finally look at one another without falling into another round of cackles, Gale’s look suddenly got serious. “You know I meant what I said earlier today.”
“Hrm?”
“That it wouldn’t be such a bad thing, if people had an idea about us.”
“Oh, Gale I can’t…” Astarion didn’t mean to sound so deflated, but it reflected on Gale’s face and stung worse being mirrored in that sweet man’s eyes than it had coming out of his mouth. “I can’t stay, it’s not safe. For you or me. My boss, he would… send someone after me.”
“And he would not find you alone,” Gale said in a whisper, his fingers twisting with Astarion’s again. “Please, I’ve never been so happy. I can’t just let the reason for that walk out the door without at least trying. You can work here, with me. You’ve already shown you have the work ethic.”
The smell of Old Spice and Big Red permeated the air around them, the chill from the cool bathroom already working its way into Astarion’s skin, and the steam beginning to dissipate into the air around them. In the low lighting, Gale was perfect. Too perfect, perhaps.
Once upon a time, Astarion was dedicated and cold, calculated. He could carry out duties for Cazador, no questions asked, no hesitation. How a damn alligator handler in the heart of Florida managed to make him question those obligations was a mystery to him.
“I’m just worried I’ll never find something like this again,” Gale began. “I’m worried I’ll never feel, like this , again.”
Astarion heard the sounds of muffled music coming from outside the bathroom, and he gave Gale a mischievous grin. “I guess you got lucky babe,” he tapped Gale’s nose, “when I found you.”
A rip of laughter overtook them again, echoing off the otherwise empty bathroom. In this sweet tender moment, Astarion wasn’t sure what he was going to do. In the face of making that decision, he decided to instead press his lips against Gale’s again, definitely not helping his case, but curtailing his rising anxiety.
On the damp bathroom floor, curled bare against a crocodile handler in an alligator-themed curtain, all Astarion’s mind contained was cinnamon, spice, and everything Gale.