DICKS EVERYWHERE
These stopped being funny years ago.
You people keep forcing my fucking hand. -- “What are you wearing…?†Sniper stared at the Scout’s outlandish outfit, eyebrows raised above the thin frames of his aviator glasses. “Don’t you like it?†Scout grinned, twirling on the spot for a moment and giving Sniper a brief flash of the pastel pink panties he wore. “I like it.†‘It’ was a short little number, delicate and frilly and entirely obscene in the way it hugged the masculine curve of Scout’s body. It didn’t suit Scout, not really, but he wore it with such confidence that it was hard to even think about laughing at him in it. It was the same shade of pink as the lacy underwear that Sniper had caught a tiny glimpse of. He stared harder; at the way a pair of suspenders attached those frills to a pair of delicate white socks and down to a pair of pale pink shoes. He was wearing a wig, too. White-blonde and a pink a little darker than the shade of the dress and split precisely down the middle. It fell in little ringlets around Scout’s shoulders, catching on the tiny frills of the shoulder puffs of the dress. “I’m not sure what you want me to say.†There were a million things Sniper could have said. ‘You look ridiculous’ being one of the front runners in his mind, but he was almost certain that Scout knew that already. There was a certain visceral quality to the way Scout stood there and Sniper was half tempted to call him out on that cocky smile like he knew exactly how Sniper would react to the dress. “You’ve done this before,†he said finally, sitting up from where he lounged on the ratty bed made out of cushions and planks. He drew his knees up a bit and leant forward, resting his elbows on his bare knees and watching Scout over the top of the glasses. The light inside the camper was already filtered a pale orange by the oddly coloured curtains that had been shuffled over his windows in place of the broken white blinds that now hung loosely from the frames; he didn’t want the colours in front of him diluted any more than they already were. Then Sniper realised he wanted to goad Scout into blushing, into losing control. Scout grinned and stretched upwards languidly. Anyone just watching in would think he was only stretching, but that was as much a lie as saying Scout didn’t know exactly what he was doing. The stretch drew Sniper’s attention to the way his body curved in the dress, the ruffles of his petticoat poking out from underneath the little dress. The two were not new to sexual mind games; in fact they revelled in them. Usually they would end in one or the both of them beaten and bruised and utterly satiated. Scout was a mouthy, violent little brat. Sniper was touched in the head more ways than one. They fit together strangely enough and their teammates had learnt to leave well enough alone when the two began arguing. This was just another one of Scout’s games, and it was working. “Wouldn’t you like to know?†Scout laughed quietly and strode over to where Sniper sat. He pushed his foot against Sniper’s chest and pushed until the man was lying back again. It would have been another lie to say Scout’s feet were delicate. They were actually fairly large and Sniper had no idea where he’d gotten a pair of shoes like this in his size. They must have been custom or something; considering the tiny little white fake carnation attached to the strap of the shoe and the delicate white patterns that weren’t visible unless you were up close and personal like Sniper was right now. “Take it off, bitch.†Sniper set his aviators aside, placing them on a shelf that was nearly out of reach, and then pushed Scout’s foot off his chest. “Make me,†he hissed through his teeth. This he was used to, the fight. It was an entirely ordinary romp in the hay for them; only Scout was wearing something that wasn’t his uniform for once. The foot came down harder than before, slamming onto Sniper’s unguarded ribs painfully hard. It forced a gasp of air from him but nothing that the assassin couldn’t simply shrug off. He pushed himself upwards quickly, throwing Scout backwards and onto the floor of the little van. Something ripped and the split wig slipped sideways but neither of them cared to react. Instead Scout just rolled backwards, flashing Sniper another glimpse of the underwear, and pushed onto his feet. The van wasn’t big enough for an all-out brawl; coffee cups lined the various surfaces and a pair of old boxers were hung unceremoniously from the table lamp. They didn’t need a large space to fight though. Scout threw a quick right hook at Sniper’s jaw but it barely connected, only making the older man’s head jerk to the side slightly, and he was grabbed by the back of the frilly dress and thrown bodily onto the bed they had broken a dozen times before. He sprawled out for a second, long enough for Sniper to catch him around the throat and drag him up onto his knees, wrenching the wig away with his other hand. Jerking his head back, the back of it connected with Sniper’s nose and blood blossomed along the pink. He span as Sniper swore, pushing him down onto the mattress and sitting hard on top of him so the two faced the same way. The Australian was in nothing but an old pair of boxers that Scout dragged off of him just as he recovered enough to grab for the back of Scout’s dress again. It jerked him backwards but some of the seams of the arms gave way and allowed Scout the leeway to bite down on Sniper’s arm. His buck teeth cut into his flesh, the boy’s bite easily enough to pierce as they had proved time and time again, and Sniper cried out and let go of the frilly material. “You gonna behave?†Scout taunted, spinning himself around to face Sniper only get a blob of bloody spit aimed at his face. He wiped it off with the back of his hand and dried that on Sniper’s bed sheets. “Well you’d better or I’ll bite ya fuckin’ dick off next time you’ve shoved it in my mouth.†Scout snapped his teeth, sitting up enough to roll Sniper onto his front. It was fairly obvious the assassin wasn’t going to make it easy on him, even if he wasn’t going to fight against it. Just the very fact that Sniper hadn’t run him through with the kukri that Scout knew was shoved down the side of the bed was enough proof that he wanted this, if the slowly plumping erection wasn’t. Scout tugged his panties aside, slipping his own hardened cock out from behind the lace. He teased himself for a moment, watching Sniper’s breathing closely. It was only just a little faster than his usual carefully paced breath. Scout knew him well enough to see the little ticks the man gave away, even when he meant to keep himself hidden away behind his facades and yellow lenses. He groped around on the shelves and pulled a crinkled tube of stolen lube down from it, unscrewing it with one hand while the other groped at Sniper’s ass. Scout didn’t give a shit about the state the dress was in now; it was already torn and bloodied, what was a few spots of precum on top of that? Ignoring the tiny hiss of pain from the Sniper below him, he began to push his lubricated cock inside. “You been taking it from someone else?†Scout groaned at the ring of tightness around him. “Maybe from that faggot Spy, huh?†His thrusts were quick and uncoordinated, entirely for his own pleasure and no real relief for the Sniper. Underneath him, Sniper ground against the sheets on the bed. He didn’t need Scout to be nice to get off. He let go of thought and rutted back and forward against the thick cock inside him and the rough sheets below, focusing just on the way tingles of pleasure made his hips twitch erratically every so often. Scout was the first to come; pulling out in time to shoot all over Sniper’s back but the Australian wasn’t far behind. Together they lay back on the bed, Scout having pilfered one of Sniper’s cigarettes and quite happily puffed away on it while he watched the ceiling. “Where the fuck did you get that dress anyway?†Sniper asked, wiping the blood off of his face with one of the dainty white socks. “None of your fucking business, ass face.†Scout spat, pulling the panties off with one hand and slingshotting them away to land on the lamp along with the grey boxers. “Hey, now it looks like you ain’t a fag!†--- Have a dress. http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m442k6juBJ1qkcmd1o2_400.jpg
BUT SCOUT... YOUR BRANDU!! Thank you, Hybrid. I think the chan needs more top scout.
Looks like troll threads occasionally have more than their desired effect.
Scout in a pink frilly dress aggressively topping an Australian assassin in a trailer... I must draw this. Thank-you Hybrid for your genius and excellent sense of humor.
This may have cured my art block.
>>7 Yes. Ooooh yes.
>>7 I don't think anything else has ever caused me to smile quite as creepily as I am now.