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The rattling of the train wheels along the tracks seemed oddly muffled when standing between pressed bodies. Edmond shifted his stance so that he was pressed closer to the door behind him, glass warmed from the lingering sunlight. Another rail track bend pushed the crowd to veer towards him, bodies pressing even closer from the shift of gravity.
Another round of passengers from the station had boarded and jostled the crowd, pushy and frantic, and–
Edmond tried to turn his head to the side, trying to stop himself from accidentally doing inappropriate things to a civilian.
It’s futile.
The man in front of him had long abandoned his attempt at holding the overhead handles, forced to move closer and closer to Edmond by the forceful crowd. A hand planted itself by the side of his head and Edmond became aware, vividly aware, of the thick arms and large palm, broad chest and wide shoulders, the towering frame and the musky aroma that’s drowning him–
The man is forced to step forward again and now their bodies are pressed flush together from the thighs to their stomach.
Above him the man let out a tsk. “Troublesome.”
Edmond snapped into attention. What was he doing, ogling a passenger like that!? His face reddened and he tried to clear his throat. He tried to meet the man’s eyes, trying to look composed, but seeing the dark eyes flustered him enough to make him bow his head again.
“Apologies, ahem, dear passenger. Please bear with this until the Fifth Station. The crowds would usually lighten somewhat there.”
It’s still a long way to go, though.
The man hummed in acknowledgement and didn’t make any other moves. For the next few stations they are stuck like that, unintentionally sharing body heat through their thin clothes. It’s summer and Edmond had opted to wear his thinner shirts and so had the man. A soft green and brown that is unbuttoned to the sternum, showing off the collarbones, the well formed pecs straining against the fabric of the shirt as he flexes to keep the body balanced.
But then– maybe it was intentional, taking advantage of moving bodies, maybe it wasn’t– their bodies inadvertently are pushed closer, again and again and again, and Edmond had to stifle a gasp as a leg came to rest between his thighs, pressing close– almost touching– to a certain spot. In turn, Edmond felt the press of strong hips, chiseled abdomen and– and a rising bulge against his own.
Edmond tried to glance down between them. Perhaps it was a belt buckle, or an object in the man’s pockets. He doesn't want to make a fuss over nothing.
Edmond tried to scoot back in the little space he had in this jam-packed train but he had only succeeded in pressing his backside onto the cool metal doors behind him. The man’s face is still close to Edmond’s own. Tousled hair brushed against high cheekbones and tired eyes gazed darkly with a hunger that made Edmond feel eclipsed. He crossed his arms and forced himself to twist his body to the side, trying to ignore the rising heat inside him.
A large hand landed on his hips, forcefully stopping his movement. “Stay still.”
Edmond froze. Oh, oh no, what was he doing– How must it have felt to the passenger when he was moving at him in a crowded train.
The man’s eyes darken, leaning down so that warm breath brushed against the shell of his red ears, voice taking on a deeper tone. “...unless you want to?”
“I– we– can’t… nggh…” He gasps, quickly shutting his mouth in case he attracts attention. They’re in public! Surely, they can’t–
But then the hand moves again. This time it continues to inch to the back, snaking around his waist, pulling him closer against the strong broad body in front of him. The position broke his balance and Edmond had to spread his legs further to avoid slipping because of the rocking of the train. This also inadvertently caused the leg that was between his to slide in further until it’s pressed flush to his crotch.
The man leans forward and the small rocking motions he makes could almost be excused by the moving train if not for the heavy hand weighting his back. The other's head leaned down, enough to rest on Edmond's right shoulder. At this distance he can't possibly miss the soft pants warming the side of his neck. Like this, pressed to the door by a strong body, smelling the earthy perfume and musky sweat, getting rubbed in the front and back– it makes him shiver and prickle like he's been stung by a nettle.
"Careful now," the man murmured in his ears when Edmond's legs had suddenly weaken and his body slipped down. He surely would've fallen to the floor if not for the man's arm around his waist.
Edmond had half a thought to resist. But, just as he turned his head to do so, he locked eyes with another stranger to the side. The stranger, a young brown haired man, blinks as if startled. His eyes darted quickly from Edmond's face to the junction where he and the larger man in front of him were pressed together. Then a knowing grin spread over the young man's face.
Edmond froze. Someone else, someone else had noticed them. Someone else had noticed him grinding in public.
The pressure between his legs caused him to jolt in pleasure. It made his head tingle, replacing all subsequent thoughts in his head. The tingle spread from the top of his head to the sides of his neck, weakening them and making them useless so he can only loll his head onto the man's shoulder. His hand weakly grasp at the other person's arms, wanting to push them away or pull him closer, Edmond doesn't know.
The man trailed his hand higher. To his upper back, to his shoulders, caressing Edmond's blue hair. Edmond can only imagine how red his face must be, how disheveled his appearance is. The hand stays there, slipped between the strands like a concerned lover carefully handling their unwell loved one, and Edmond leaned into the gentle warmth.
However the other one isn't so gentle.
The hand trailed down, tracing the line of his waistband, teasingly dipping a finger in and pulling out the next second. It runs across the curve of his hips and ass. Edmond bit his lips to muffle himself when the fingers run between the cleft of his ass, teased his between his thighs. Heat flooded through him as a gasp passed through his lips, surely loud enough for the other passengers to notice.
"You-! This is indecent to do in public!" Edmond hissed. "People are watching!"
The hand continued to grab onto the fleshiest part of Edmond's ass, kneading a handful with no remorse.
"Hmm, but you seem to be arching into me." The man blows warm air into his ear and grind his hip pointedly at his.
Edmond kept his head down as he realized his own position. Arched back, hips flushed to another, legs shaking, thighs twitching and grinding down. The thrill of shame pulsed low in his belly as he noticed that his body has unconsciously enabled this shameful act for momentary pleasure. Worst of all, he still can't stop grinding down. His body is moving on it's own to chase the pleasure a knee between two thighs bring about. As the train hits a curve the sound of brakes shrieked, sounding out along with a wanton moan that escaped unbidden.
"How pretty," the other man murmured, thumb stroking the sides of Edmond's face.
"Hahh, you're-"
"Quincy," the man interrupted, "that's my name."
"Q-Quincy, sir, hmmn–"
"Say it again," The man, Quincy, brought his knees higher, pressing up to right onto Edmond's crotch, "moan my name again."
The unexpected pressure sets Edmond alight with sparks, teetering him on an edge and making him helpless but to open his mouth and vocalize the demanded name, syllables spilling out from red bitten lips.
"Quincy… please…"
"Good boy."
The hands began to move anew.
It moved to the front, rubbing and pinching the two sensitive spots on his chest until it's almost unbearable. Then it trails down the sides, rubs on his tense abdomen, stimulating him until he's squirming. The knee between his legs were just as stimulating and relentless. Along with the hand that continues to move lower, they pressed against his crotch until Edmond is panting, drooling mess, open-mouthed and eyes blown wide.
The other hand also rejoined the fray from behind. From beyond the layer of fabric, thick fingers danced right above his entrance but doesn't linger. Instead, it skimmed lower and settling into into the warm spot between spread thighs, slotting onto his perineal bulge like it belonged there. It pressed. It rubbed and kneads and Edmond trembled like a leaf under the touch, arching high.
"I– It's, I'm com– I'm close–" Edmond rocks his hips, seeking more friction and Quincy obliged, granting contact to his desperately straining cock, giving a few thrust for himself.
"You can cum."
And with just a gentle kiss to the back of his ears, Edmond is sent right over the edge, the confusing mix of pleasure-humiliation finally finding an outlet from his body. With a half-sob that he vainly tried to cover with his hand, he shudder and cums. He feels the hot, thick discharge coating the inside of his pants. Distantly Edmond hopes his pants are dark and thick enough to contain it. Edmond stood there, squeezing his eyes shut as he's helpless to do anything but let the ecstasy overflow.
In the end he slumped over, lightheaded and overly relaxed as the aftershocks of pleasure course through his veins. A minute or two passed with him getting lost in that floaty, far away space. Faintly he feels steady and warm hands supporting his body and Edmond gives in to the urge to nuzzle into the rising and falling chest he's resting on.
That is, until the door behind him suddenly slid open.
"Ah–?!"
In a split second they are suddenly pushed to concrete floor of a train station by the escaping crowd, uncaring of the two locked in an embrace. Somehow, Quincy managed to steady them and pulled Edmond to the sides of the train car where it's relatively less crowded. There, leaning against the safety wall, Edmond tried his best to regain his balance and sanity after the whole ordeal.
He was shocked, mortified, flustered and embarrassed. He must be a mess of sweat and rumpled clothes, a sight to be seen for sure. Just now, when he had been moved, he can faintly feel the wet squelch coming from between his legs, much to his chagrin. But he also couldn't deny the pleasure and the fact that he virtually did nothing else to resist besides saying a few uncompelling sentences. From under the brim of his hat, askew now, Edmond peeks at his liaison partner.
The man still looked composed and steady as he was at the start, only a bit rumpled from the crowd. That is, if not for the bulge he can spy so clearly.
"Ah, you're.." He can't help but flit his eyes to the strained part of Quincy's pants, wondering.
The man only looked back amusedly.
"That's alright, I can deal with it later." He leaned forward and took a stray lock of hair into his hand. Edmond is instantly thrown into an involuntary flashback on what had just transpired with those hands. "You've given me such a pretty picture to imagine."
Despite himself, Edmond blushed.
Then with a parting kiss pressed into the hair, the man also flit away, rejoining the rush of crowds exiting the station.
The speaker announcing the departure of the train prevents Edmond from lingering around. So he pulled the brim of his head low, tidied himself best he can, and stepped back into the train car. He stood back again inside the considerably emptier carriage, feeling the consequences of his actions cooling in his pants.