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As Kremy steps out of his tent, he notices just how dark it is. It’s an oppressive wash of blackness that shrouds his and his companion's campsite this night. The cold wind blows through not only the clearing they’re set up in but also Kremy. The icy breeze cuts through him like a sharp knife, making the reptilian man pull his thick woolen blanket tighter around himself.
Kremy can’t see hardly a damn thing as he stands just outside of his tent. His eyes are usually quite good in the dark, but now all he can make out are the vague shapes of the things in their campsite. Looking into the sky, it’s completely blanketed in storm clouds. Not a star or sliver of moonlight to be seen.
The wind bats at him, making him drop his head back down and blink away the tears that formed in his eyes thanks to the howling gale. His gaze turns towards where he knows Gideon's tent should be, and it’s not hard to find.
Gideon's tent is more patchwork than a tent at this point. The old canvas is stained and ripped in many places, with patches sewn on to cover the holes. It’s barely just big enough for Gideon to fully lay down inside. One of the tent flaps had come undone in the night, flapping and revealing inside Kremy’s traveling companion.
Gideon is almost always glowing, Kremy had noticed some weeks into their travel together. His hair and his beard are both bushy and dark brown with soft red embers burning on the ends. His skin even gives off the faintest of glows, all of that making it easy for Kremy to see.
Gideon is laid out on his back like always. One arm is pillowed behind his head while the other is thrown over his stomach. His mouth is hung open slightly, and Kremy is unable to hear his snores over the loud wind. He can see the old worn-out and threadbare blanket Gideon uses is thrown over himself, pulled up just to his chest. Kremy almost wants to hate him for how warm Gideon runs and his unnatural ability to weather the cold, but all he feels in the moment is trepidation.
Kremy stands there just outside his tent, practically peeping in at Gideon as he sleeps. Worse yet, he plans on waking him up just so Kremy can get a bit warmer in this windstorm. And much worse yet, Kremy is his boss. How in the hell does Gideon say no to his boss in this situation? Did Gideon even sign up for this?! Kremy thinks he can’t just… intrude into Gideon's tent. To ask him to share it because Kremy’s weak…
Another sharp gust of wind cuts through him, a low moaning howl blowing around him as Kremy flinches. He can barely pull the wool blanket any tighter, shivering fiercely as he tries to hide deeper inside his cocoon. Kremy steps to Gideon's tent.
No.. Gideon, as a matter of fact, did sign up for this, Kremy concludes as he makes the short distance to his companion's tent. Gideon signed up for a lot of different shit when he agreed to be Kremy’s bodyguard and scribbled his name down in chicken scratch on their contract. He agreed to help Kremy in whatever way he could.. and Kremy needs help.
Kremy stops just outside of Gideon's tent once he reaches it. The tent flap is still billowing in the breeze, letting out wisps of hot air as Kremy stands there. He crouches, pulling the flap open fully, and is quickly blasted with heat. He almost has to step backward because of it but manages to keep his place. He lets the warmth rush over him, a deep sigh fleeing from his chest.
—
The roar.. the constant chugging.. the howling train whistle..
The blazing heat.. the hot metal.. the chains..
Gideon twists and turns on his spot, teeth gritted tight as he pulls and yanks at the chains shackled to his arms. He has each chain gripped in each hand, pulling as hard as he possibly could. He grunts and snarls and yells out in frustration, kicking his feet into the hard metal below him like a bull.
“Let me the fuck go!” Gideon screams as he wrenches at the chains, with no movement from the bolted-on panel they’re secured to. The metal is a rusty brown, the scent of iron and hot coals filling his nose. The train rattles and shakes violently, none the wiser to his distress.
“I got outta here! I fuckin’ left, you dirty hobgoblins!” He continues to scream, voice almost hoarse. He isn’t a boy anymore... He’s grown some after getting out of here.. He’d met Kremy and Kremy fed him and put more meat on his bones. Kremy helped Gideon get stronger than he was before! How can he not break these chains again?!
The awful, cackling laughs of the hobgoblins ring around Gideon, the train whistle bellowing as it shoots along the tracks. The heat of the fire he’s tasked to manage roars in his face, the metal on his wrists boiling and no doubt leaving more marks. How did he get captured again… Kremy promised he’d never go back…
Gideon roars from his chest, pulling and pulling and pulling with all of his might. Metal creaks loudly, another blast from the whistle. Gideon will break these chains again... He’ll get back to Kremy-
—
Kremy sees Gideon's eyes pop open after he sighs and immediately kicks himself mentally. He hadn’t meant to wake Gideon up just then, hoping to have a moment to come up with something to say about why he was waking him up.
There’s immediate alertness in Gideon's eyes like always. Kremy sees his shoulders tense up tight, eyes flitting this way and that before they land on him. That tension is gone in just a moment, making Kremy’s stomach flip. The trust Gideon shows him almost always doing that to him for whatever gods-forsaken reason.
“Krem?.. ‘S goin’ on? Ever’thin’ ‘lright?” Gideon asks, his voice thick with sleep. He brings a hand up to his face, rubbing the crust from his eyes, chains rattling softly.
Kremy eyes the chain a moment, hating when Gideon forgets to pull off his manacles before going to sleep. That metal cannot feel good to sleep with, he thinks. Despite himself, Kremy’s eyes drift back up to Gideon's face, seeing him eye Kremy with a mixture of curiosity and exhaustion. He feels even worse now, knowing how long they’ve been traveling and how hard it can be for Gideon to get to sleep.
Kremy hesitates then, almost unsure of what he should do or even say. His mouth opens a small fraction before closing again. What does he say? Does he just tell Gideon he’s freezing and Gideon is a goddamn walking heater so it only makes sense Kremy snuggles up with him? Absolutely not.
The thought of asking for help with something that isn’t one of his cons is sickening to Kremy. Even to Gideon, who he’s been traveling with for almost a good year now! Kremy cares for what Gideon thinks of him.. and he can’t have Gideon thinking he’s weak or weak-willed.
Kremy once again begins to open his mouth, this time with the plan of making up some stupid or wild excuse for why Kremy needs to share Gideon's tent. A tree limb was blown off and almost hit his tent! He should probably sleep here where the foliage above isn’t as thick and heavy-
Kremy has almost forgotten about the cold wind at his back but is quickly reminded of it as it tries once again to cut through him like a freshly sharpened knife. The gust hits and causes him to shiver violently, burrowing down in his blanket again, the words frozen in his throat.
Kremy isn’t sure, but he thinks he glimpses a look of understanding wash over Gideon's face. A moment later he hears shuffling in front of him, causing Kremy to look up once more. Gideon’s moved to the side of the tent, pulling his thin blanket back to allow Kremy room.
“Well, geez man... Get in here and close that, would ya.. lettin’ all the heat out..” Gideon grumbles sleepily, moving to lie back down at the side of the tent.
All Kremy can do for just a moment is watch as Gideon gets comfortable again. He isn’t offering to share his thin blanket but has offered up the warm spot he’d moved from moments ago. Kremy almost hesitates a moment longer, but the cold breeze at his back finally blows him into the tent.
Kremy moves inside quickly, turning to secure the tent flaps and making sure they’re secured tightly. He turns once more and almost dives into the heated ground. He rolls from one side onto his back and then the other side, putting his back to Gideon while also relishing in the warmth. He sighs again, feeling content.
Kremy closes his eyes, more than happy he didn’t have to say anything to Gideon; more so happy Gideon had offered of his own free will rather than Kremy imposing on him as his boss… But he would never admit that out loud to another soul.
He’s just about to give a quick, “Thanks, Gid.” when Kremy feels a hand tug at his blanket. His eyes shoot open again but he doesn’t even have time to turn and look at Gideon before he hears,
“Share, man... You’ll get warmer faster this way.”
Gideon easily tugs one-half of the blanket free from Kremy. He feels Gideon sliding back closer to him, away from the tent wall. He feels Gideon pull the wool blanket over himself as he settles not even an inch from Kremy. Kremy feels… Nothing after that. All there is is Gideon's radiant heat and the barely there gap between them.
He feels a surge of disappointment that he deftly battles away the moment it comes.
“Can’t have you freezin’ on me now, can I?” Gideon grumbles from behind him, his voice a gruff and tired rumble that warms Kremy from the inside. He finally relaxes.
“Yeah, can’t have that… Who’d feed ya?”
—
Gideon stares up at his tent ceiling. The storm has mostly passed now, the roiling gray clouds being dispersed to reveal a soft orange and pink sky. There’s a new hole in the ceiling of the tent…
Gideon sighs deep in his chest, a moment later glancing to his side where Kremy sleeps peacefully. He can’t help but smile a bit despite himself and the slight despair about his awful tent. Kremy has practically given him everything he has to his name, except for the tent.
After Gideon had escaped that train, he’d wandered for some time. He wandered as far from the tracks as he possibly could. On his way, he’d met a few travelers here and there, but he mostly kept to himself. One evening while looking for a place to hunker down, he’d found an abandoned campsite with a single frayed tent and a long burnt-out fire. He’d broken down the tent and put it alongside his measly other possessions in the morning.
Gideon likes his ugly old tent. It had been one of the first few things that belonged to him and him alone. No one, not even a hobgoblin, could come and take it from him. Despite how many times Kremy pleads with him to part with it and get a new, better tent, Gideon refuses. It’s his and he’ll keep it until he can’t repair it anymore.
But… Gideon thinks maybe it is time to part with it as he looks down at Kremy.
Kremy’s an alligatorfolk. He’s cold-blooded and needs constant warmth, and this tent surely can’t be holding his heat in as well as it should be. The tent flap had come undone again in the night and a sharp branch blowing by in the wind had torn that new hole…
If Gideon is going to be Kremy’s personal heater, he wants to get the job done right. So, he decides that the next town they stop in, he’ll part ways with this ugly tent and find something more suitable for his new job.