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Golem watched as the helicopters departed with the rest of his crew and the extra members they took on today. They had been assigned a huge mission, not so much complicated but against a well stocked army, so parts of Chimera had been asked to come along. Altogether, it took two helicopters and a truck to drop them off, and another two helicopters and a truck to pick them up. Both times, Golem had opted to drive the truck.

Kreuger stood beside him this time, deciding it would “be best” if he accompanied his “old friend” back to base instead of Farah like before. Golem was too tired to argue.

“Well, Hans,” Kreuger said beside him, sickeningly sweet. “Are you ready to go?”

Golem only grunted for a response. He made his way to the truck, slow and sore from running, throwing himself over barricades, throwing grenades, holding his heavy gun steady to provide cover. Kreuger walked light beside him, no worse for wear from the day’s work. He had pep in his step, a brisk pace. “Seem a little slow today. Sir.”

Golem stayed silent.

“Sir. My brother,” he slips into Golem’s native tongue.

“I’m tired, Kreuger.”

“Ahaa,” Kreuger chuckles at that. “So we get you back to base.”

“Hm.”

“Want me to drive us? It’s no problem,” Kreuger kicks at him, picking up his pace to beat Golem to the truck. He gets to the door, grabs hold of the handle, then turns to watch Golem make his way over. He leans back against the door, crosses his legs at the ankles. “So slow, my brother.”

He can hear his smirk, see it in the way his shoulders are so lax. It’s odd to think Kreuger is opening up to him more, showing more of his true person to Golem here, now, in Verdansk. In Germany, in the KSK, his front was so odd to him, like a perfect protege had been dropped in his lap. The spark in his eyes had perhaps been more akin to a wild dog spotting his next meal rather than the look of someone who had found his place. Under the net, in the falling twilight of the day, Kreugers face is a dark mesh of shadows, hidden like a bride.

They’ve had missions together here before, the shock of meeting him once again has worn off, giving way to a renewal of the disgust he felt years past to learn he was guarding a murderer. And allowed him another murder. Golem’s body felt heavy, like a stone sinking through water.

“Hans, you look so stressed,” Kreuger sighs out. “You better sleep tonight.”

"That is the plan."

"Hmmm," Kreuger slips a hand under his net to play with his chin. Or stroke his own lips perhaps. "Do you sleep alone now, Hans?"

Golem squints at him. He stands a foot away from him at the car now, maybe closer than he should be to this animal. "Don't you? This is work, Kreuger."

"Not what I meant."

"What are you asking me?"

"I heard about you and your wife."

Golem stares at him. He crosses his arms, keeps his glare steady. "What about her?"

"What was it, hm? Not long after me you had asked for a divorce?"

"I didn't ask."

"She did? Oh," he says curtly. "Was that upsetting?"

"What do you think?"

"More upsetting than me?"

"What are you doing? Ranking yourself?"

"Hmm," Kreuger ponders aloud. "Perhaps."

"That's pointless."

"Your silence is pointless, Golem. It speaks more than a simple yes or no would have."

Golem doesn't respond. He stays standing with his arms firmly crossed, using his single inch of height over the man to its full advantage. Kreuger remains unperturbed, contently ranking Golems litany of failures one by one, adding to his list of faults and missteps.

"What do you do with yourself, Hans," Kreuger tsks, "to relieve all of your stress?"

"None of your business."

"I know you smoke." He leans in, the dying sun catching on his eyes, offering that fucking gleam. "I can smell it."

Golem huffs. He's already upset with himself for not cleaning his bong before leaving, foolishly confident that this time he could handle being in the scrawny man's presence. Another tick on his list. Ever growing.

"But that is so fleeting, Hans," he rolls his name off his tongue like it's made for him to say. He sounds more like he's happily bragging about Golem rather than the mocking he is doing. "Do you want more?"

Golem can feel his spine tingling, he takes a moment to stand on his tippy toes with the electricity of it, sighs out as he stands back flat.

"I don't."

"You do."

"Nothing from you."

Kreuger pulls back in faux hurt, "you wound me. Hans." Rolling it, savoring it.

"You're not offering anything real anyway."

"You know that for sure?" Kreuger pulls his shoulders together, forward, to inch closer to Golem, leaning under him more. "It is just us here after all."

Golem clicks his tongue as he opens his mouth to speak, closes it instead, looks to the side of his head to think. He blinks once, closes his mouth, watches the clouds ease by in the reflection of the truck's window. He's aware, vaguely, of Kreuger's hand coming to his waistband, digging a finger into his pocket and tugging him closer. Golem follows, looking back to where he knows his eyes are.

"I do not enjoy being a toy."

"Hans," Kreuger continues, ignoring him. "When you caught me I had to run. I've never been able to give you proper thanks." His hands wander to the button of his jeans, popping it open with ease. He grabs at the zipper next, pulls it down slowly as he speaks, "I know that must bother you. You spent all that time, and we never got a moment alone."

"It does not," he lies boldly, pointlessly. His entire career past that paint a blatant sign that he does. No one said they could blame him, but the slights to his record after Josef's exposure, the rumours he let run rampant, even as they reached his wife. Punishment.

Kreuger simply chuckles. Funny. "Well, it bothers me," a lie for a lie. "So shall I?"

"I don't know what you have planned. I never do."

"Can't be that hard to figure," Kreuger mumbles as he reaches his hand inside Golem's pants. Golem exhales like his lungs are being examined, watches as Kreuger pulls his soft dick out, holds it firm, cranes his head up to look him square in the face. "Hm?"

Golem felt his cheeks redden, words caught in his throat. The rough and hard material of Kreuger's glove is cool to the sensitive skin of his cock, warm only slightly from body heat.

"I'm not going to ask."

"Then I'll just do it," Kreuger coos as he strokes once, up, down, watching as Golem's breath catches again. The grooves of the glove, splits on the surface from wear and tear, tug at his skin. He pulls back tight, to the base, revealing the head of Golem's dick, slick already with precum from the slightest tease of Kreuger under him, taking dick on the hard ground. Net pulled back, a finger in his mouth, hooked in one side to feel him drool over it, drool over Hans as he fucks him into the ground.

Kreuger strokes him again, keeps Golem still at a distance from him, and picks up his pace a little. Golem feels like he's heaving in air, balling his hands up into fists, overwhelmed already from just the pace and tight grip of him. His cheeks flush, balls already tightening, ready to cum, to spill into Kreuger's hand, or over his face, or onto his back, or his chest. Years of fantasy played out before him, here now five strokes in. Kreuger strokes to the base again, grips him tight, brings his other hand to Golem's cock to rub his thumb over his wet slit, holding the tip firmly.

Once. Twice. He opens his mouth to say something to Golem, stops with a short, "Oh!" as Golem cums in his hand, hips stuttering forward as he strains out a terse groan.

Kreuger laughs. He pulls his hands away quickly, shakes it to get the cum off of him. "Oh, Hans," he laughs again.

"I-I'm not finished," Golem stutters. Pathetically, he feels his eyes water, blush spreading to his ears. "That was-"

"Hans," Kreuger slaps at his waist, keeps his hand there to rub the mess onto Golem's gear. "You look plenty satisfied. And without even taking off my glove," he mused. "Knew it would not be worth it."

"I'm not done!"
The sun catches Kreuger's eyes again as he looks up at Golem. He holds his stare, blinks once before looking away and chuckling, dark and cruel. "I think I'll walk back to base."

"Jose--Sebastian,-"

"Should maybe put your dick back up," Kreuger says as he moves away from the truck. Quickly, ignoring Golem's grab and subsequent plea of "please," he toys around with his gun hanging still from the clasp of his belt. Gritting his teeth, Golem does as he's told, packing himself back in, making a final grab for Kreuger as he begins his long walk, whimpering like a kicked dog as he watches him leave.

Eventually, half an hour after Kreuger has disappeared into the abandoned city of Verdansk, Golem takes his own leave.