The two thieves ran through the large gate of the abandoned factory, which was their temporary hideout, and made sure that no one was following them. A few minutes of waiting later, both males sighed calmly and dropped off the backpacks with their loot.

“For a second there I thought we'd get caught,” muttered one of the thieves, with a certain tone of happiness.

“That move against the security guard you made was decisive, good job Harold.”

“I appreciate whoever left that trash can in the alley,” Harold replied, removing the bandana which covered his entire head, revealing a handsome young fox with delicate features.

The vulpine's partner in crime also uncovered his face, revealing a middle-aged raccoon, and rubbed his hands together as he approached the loot they'd gotten.

“Credit to you, Gram. You were right about the security of that jewelry store,” said the fox.

“I told you, it was a matter of waiting for the shift change,” the raccoon replied, as he shoved both hands into his backpack and lifted them again with several fancy necklaces and watches.

“So...how are we going to sell those things?” asked the young male.

“Easy, Harold, I know a guy in the south market who's in the business of buying these kinds of items.”

“Perfect, let's go there then!”

“Not so fast, kid. Private security was an easy thing to do, but by now the police should be on our trail, best to wait here for the streets to cool down.”

“Here? How long?” asked the fox, with clear annoyance.

“I'd say about three days... But don't worry, I hid some food and drink for this situation yesterday,” said the raccoon, opening a vent pipe to pull out a backpack, open it, and show his partner several bottles of water and bags of potato chips, all labeled with the names of their owners.

“Tell me there's at least a bed and electricity in this place...”

“The electricity was cut off years ago, but there's an old mattress and a blanket in the office upstairs,”replied the older male.

Harold sighed regretfully, imagining how dull the next three days would be spent cooped up in that dingy, abandoned place. In an attempt to clear his mind, the fox opened his backpack, pulled out a couple of gold watches, and peered at them in the beam of light coming through the windows.

“They're pretty shiny aren't they?” said the raccoon, approaching his partner.

“Yes, too much for my taste... How come people seek to buy these things?” thought the fox aloud.

“Rich people need everything to shine to get attention, they need to show that they are better, that they have the money and the power to dominate you, and for that they first need to be looked at,” Gram explained.

“Weren't you rich a few years ago?” asked Harold, remembering how he had met the raccoon.

A couple of years ago, Harold was a schoolmate of Gram's son, and he remembered the luxuries the raccoon's home had, from carpeted floors to a huge swimming pool.

“Yes and no, my wife was from a wealthy family, I just worked at her father's company,” Gram explained.

“So what happened?” the fox continued to ask.

“Differences of opinion about how to treat people...” muttered the raccoon.

“That answer is just as valuable as if you hadn't answered,” growled the young vulpine, as he tried on jeweled gold necklaces and put several rings on his fingers.

“It all went to hell when I was asked to fire a bunch of workers to make it appear a good quarter on the books, I refused and the fights started, at work and at home,” Gram explained, a little chagrined at the memory of the situation.

“I don't understand... Why did you refuse?” asked Harold.

“Because firing someone who doesn't deserve it is a situation I will never agree to... Boy, there are things in this life that you can't go back from,” the raccoon continued.

“Come back? Come back from what?”

“Coming back from degradation, from loss of dignity...that's why I lost my job and my marriage.”

“Dude... We just robbed a jewelry store, dignity was lost several hours ago,” sneered the young fox.

“Well... Yeah... But we didn't kill anyone, we didn't cross the line,” Gram defended himself.

“Too bad... I really wanted to shoot someone. Next time, I'll carry the gun,” said Harold.

“Have you ever fired a gun?” the raccoon asked, frowning in disapproval at his partner's words.

“No... but I could use yours,” the fox replied, rattling all the jewelry he had on him.

“I'm sorry, but I'm not planning on giving my gun to someone who's never fired a shot before,” Gram said, firm in his tone.

“Neither of you?” the young man asked again, laughing discreetly.

“I only have one.”

“And the one you keep in your pants?”

“Harold! What kind of a joke is that?” growled the raccoon.

“One a little funnier than the one you just threw in my face,” replied the fox, smiling and calm.

“What do you mean?” asked gram again, already annoyed at hearing the young man.

“We both know your marriage didn't end because of a problem at your job,” Harold assured him.

“N-No...it was that, there's nothing else,” stammered the raccoon.

“What about the pool guy you were screwing behind your wife's back?” asked the young fox.

“H-How, did you talk to my wife?” replied Gram, completely defensive.

“No, your son saw you fucking the pool guy on the kitchen table. That's why we weren't surprised when your wife kicked you out of the house a few months later,” Harold explained.

“My son knew about it...” muttered the raccoon.

“Yes, but neither of us said anything. In fact... I find what you did very sexy,” the young male clarified.

“What?”

“What you heard, I really like shameless males like you,” the fox confessed.

“Look... Harold,” Gram tried to get the young man to stop talking.

“In fact... “ Harold continued, reaching out to grab one of the water bottles the raccoon had prepared, which had his name on it, before continuing to speak, ”Surely my water must be poisoned with some sleeping pill so you can get away with my share of the loot.”

“Boy... you're out of your mind, I don't know what you're talking about,” said the raccoon.

“Then give it a drink,” offered the fox, handing the bottle to his companion.

“Of course not!” protested Gram, rejecting the bottle with a swat.

“Ha ha ha! I knew it!” laughed the fox.

“There's nothing funny about it, this didn't have to end this way, Harold,” said the raccoon, now with a serious tone, as he pulled the revolver out of his pocket and pointed it at the other male.

“Easy, Gram, I don't think you understand me...I really don't give a fuck about the money,” Harold admitted, trying to calm himself to stop laughing.

“Are you kidding me?” growled Gram.

“No, the only thing I care about in all of this is you,” the young fox said.

“ I think that's more of a concern than the possibility that you might want to take my money,” replied the raccoon, pulling back the hammer on the revolver.

“Harold, you don't understand. When your son told me what he saw you doing with the pool guy, I couldn't wait to be in his shoes because older males like you turn me on so much,” the vulpine explained.

“Do males older than you turn you on?” asked Gram, still quite incredulous at what he was hearing.

“Older and shameless, bad males make my legs shake,” the fox continued.

“Let me get this straight...you accompanied me on a robbery knowing I was possibly going to betray you, and all because you're horny for me? Are you crazy?” asked the raccoon.

“You're right about the first, but knowing what I want doesn't make me crazy. Besides... am I not prey to your liking?” replied the young male, making a sensual movement with his shoulders.

“W-Well... I admit you're pretty sexy... But don't even think I trust you!” shouted Gram.

“We have a pair of handcuffs for a reason... “ proposed the fox, grinning broadly.

“That's true... “ thought the raccoon aloud and, still pointing his revolver at the other thief, he walked over to his backpack, grabbed the handcuffs and tossed them to the fox.

“Where do you want me?” asked Harold seductively, slightly ignoring the fact that a gun was being pointed in his face.

“I want you to run the chain through that pipe and cuff both your hands,” Gram ordered, pointing to his partner a thick pipe running down the wall.

The young fox obeyed, remaining cuffed by both wrists, with his head lying against the pipe to which he was chained, completely at the mercy of whatever the other male wanted to do with him.

Gram put his revolver aside and rushed over to his companion to remove all the precious jewelry, bracelets and watches the young man had put on, stowing them back in the backpacks. The procyon's eyes glittered at the loot that was now exclusively in his hands.

“You... you really are out of your mind,” the raccoon sneered.

“I told you, I don't care in the least about the loot,” Harold said again, grinning.

“Sure...sure...you're looking for something else, you're looking for this,” Gram said, grabbing the elastic of his pants with one hand and pulling it down.

At that instant, the young fox's eyes lit up at the sight of raccoon genitalia, a small sheath followed by a pair of plump testicles dropping disparately in front of him.

“Oooh yes...” groaned Harold.

“You like what you see?” asked the raccoon, holding his balls with both hands.

“Y-Yes... “ moaned the fox again.

“Do you want me to repay you with this for helping me?” scoffed Gram.

“Yes, please!” pleaded the young male, ignoring the way his mate was talking.

“He he...you little pervert.”

The raccoon grabbed the fox's pants with both hands and tugged at them, beholding a large and growing wet spot in the middle of the vulpine's underwear. Then, with equal impunity, he pulled off his boxers and, along with his pants, tossed them away.

Harold's genitals were significantly smaller than Gram's, but his cock was long and twice as thick as the raccoon's, already completely out of its sheath and dripping copious precum from its tip.

“Wow...you're a pretty big boy,” Gram murmured, grabbing the fox's thick penis with his left hand, squeezing it lightly and smearing the fur with the clear juice gushing from the canine glans.

Harold blushed completely, leading him to pant and wag his tail from side to side in desperation.

“But what you want most is for me to give you a little attention here,” Gram said, before plunging his index finger into his mate's anus, pressing until his knuckle kissed the young male's soft, intimate flesh.

“Y-Yes!” moaned the fox.

After playing with Harold's little hole, Gram pulled his finger out of the vulpine's anus, replacing it with his long, slender penis, which easily found its target, sinking in sharply as it worked its way inside the fox, making him moan and shudder.

“Hmm... what a nice hole you have, boy,” the raccoon growled.

“Oouh!” Harold tried to reply, as he strained to keep his legs up so his partner could continue to drill him deep, using that fine meat stick with a mastery that only someone who possessed decades of knowing his body could have.

“You want me to fill you with my cum, don't you?” the treacherous thief asked, never ceasing to move his hips, thrusting his cock in and out of his vulpine hole at great speed.

“Yes, Gram, please!” squealed Harold with great need.

The raccoon squeezed the young body hard and accelerated the speed of his hips, making his long appendage thrust its way violently into the fox's bowels, pushing the chained young man against the pipe.

“Oooh! Ooh!”

“Grrr!”

Gram gritted his teeth and continued to growl as he emptied his balls inside the vulpine, who seemed to be making his greatest wish come true. As he finished, the raccoon disengaged himself from his partner in crime, pulling his flaccid cock out of Harold's dripping anus, staining the dusty floor with male juice. The raccoon wiped his wet cock on the young fox's leg and pulled up his pants.

Harold moaned and pushed outward with his reddened anus, feeling the typical burning after being used by another male, and spurted a stream of thick semen from his bowels, then lowered his legs and sighed, relaxing to catch his breath.

The raccoon handed the fox a bottle of water and helped him take a big sip.

“Thanks...that was great,” the young vulpine thanked.

“You've got a nice ass, boy,” Gram admitted.

“And you're everything I hoped you'd be...I love it,” Harold sighed.

“I'm surprised at how well you read me, you got everything right and that...I like that,” the raccoon continued, as he tidied his clothes and stowed the loot in the backpacks.

A few seconds later, Harold began to feel heavy-lidded and having great difficulty keeping his eyes open.

“G-Gram... what?”

“Like I said, you got everything right,” the thief repeated, showing his accomplice the small plastic bottle he had just drunk from.

“N-No... Gram... “ the fox managed to stammer before passing out.

After several hours, Harold woke up, he was alone and untied. Beside him was a small note, which he quickly picked up and read aloud:

“By the time you wake up, I will be on a ship on my way to Malaga. I'll stop for two weeks at the Iberostar Waves before the next heist. If you really love me, you'll find a way to follow me.”

Harold squeezed the note tightly into a paper bun, reached for his clothes and dressed, realizing that his partner had taken all the loot, then reopened the paper and read the note again.

“You son of a bitch!” the fox yelled before stuffing the note in his pocket, sighing and licking his lips before smiling and whispering, ”I love that raccoon...”