1 . Name: valrook @ 2015-02-26 09:42

(Holy crap, I hope I'm doing this right!) So a friend advised that I write something different to take my mind off a misbehaving fic, then shamelessly requested Heavy/Sniper or Soldier/Sniper, with sexually competent bottom + dirty talking Sniper. This is essentially my first venture into writing smut (and my second attempt at writing), so you'll have to forgive any awkwardness.

Side note: English isn't my first language, so grammar/punctuation may be wonky. The fic hasn't been through the Beta wringer, either.

This has less plot than a $10 porn flick. You have been warned!


____________



Sniper can honestly say that this is completely unexpected.

"Sniper is okay with this?"

And really, he feels like it's a bit late to ask that now, considering Heavy already has him trapped on Sniper's own bed, in the room he uses when the weather is too cold for his camper.

He's managed to get Sniper's belt undone - his pants halfway down his arse, as well and Sniper will admit that's it's all a bit out of left field. Mostly, he's wondering how Heavy got the impression that this is what Sniper wants from him, but - well, he isn't wrong, exactly.

It's just that Sniper isn't sure how it went from bringing the bloke a sandwich, to Heavy knocking on his door at two in the morning, crowding him against the bed and biting his bloody neck. Sniper knows the guy likes his sandwiches, but it seems like a few vital steps have been missed in the process of asking someone if they're up for a tumble in the hay.

"S'more than okay. Here, let me-" Sniper says while pulling off his shirt.

Like he said: Heavy isn't wrong, and Sniper has given up on the why mostly - is more interested in the tent he can see in Heavy's pants.

Heavy let's him up, helps him strip out of his clothes - and Sniper leaves his Kukri on the bedside table, just in case, something Heavy doesn't seem to mind.

It's been a fair while since Sniper had a good root - been even longer since someone could give him what he wants: a rough and sloppy fuck. And hard. You'd think it'd be a fairly straight-forward request for a bloke to follow, but apparently not. Heavy looks like he can give him what he wants.

He throws Heavy a tub of Vaseline from the nightstand and get's on all fours on the bed, reckons that's all the permission he'll need. Heavy wastes no time in stripping himself, before looming over him. A hand settles on the small of Sniper's back and it easily spans the width of him. He shudders in response and consciously lets the muscles in his back relax, loving just how big Heavy is compared to himself - only has a couple of inches on Sniper when they're standing, but his sheer size easily turn those inches into feet. Sniper feels practically miniscule.

The hand on his back presses down with enough force to press most of his chest flush with the bed - even with his legs bent and arse in the air. He has to spread his knees further apart to accommodate, arching his spine - and it opens him up, exposes him.

"Like what ya see?" He hums.

Heavy growls appreciatively and Sniper's cock twitches. He's never needed mouthy partners - can do plenty of that himself when he's getting fucked, if not at other times - but the sounds, those he likes.

"Come on, slick me up. I'll be real good for ya, promise."

Heavy tugs his hips back to meet his own and grinds down, rubbing his cock along the back of Sniper's balls, slides it down his crack…

"Mm, yeah, that's it. Want it there." Sniper moans, pushing his hips back and grunting in disappointment when Heavy backs off.

The sound of him slicking up his cock turns that disappointment into anticipation. The man is back on him almost immediately, all slippery and messy, sliding against his hole, teasing him, letting the head catch and tug again and again, slipping in a tiny bit at every pass.

Sniper is writhing by the time Heavy decides to get his fingers in him. He inches in a single digit, working Sniper open, then another - his fingers are so big that by two, Sniper is stretched further than most cocks he's taken.

"C'mon," He says, impatiently, "Want ya in me, c'mon."

The fingers disappear. More sounds of slick, then-

"You want this?" Heavy guides his cock to Sniper's hole, keeping one huge hand on his hip, making it impossible to thrust back.

"Yeah, want it," Sniper breathes, "Fill me up, just-"

Heavy's thrusts is one steady stroke and doesn't stop until he's buried. Sniper keens, loudly, feeling like the sound is being wrung from his gut and he has a fleeting moment to be thankful that his room is separate from the other blokes on the team. Arching his back further is almost impossible, but he tries anyway - to present as much of himself as he can, to get Heavy's cock deeper. Sniper barely has time to take a shaky breath before Heavy leans as far over him as he can, chest and belly flush with Sniper's back.

"Bloody hell-" He chokes out, feeling smothered and wants more.

"Sniper must breathe." Heavy says, a low rumble in his ear and Sniper can feel it against his back as much as he hears it, but he listens and takes deep gulps of air, trying to focus even as Heavy's cock slides in just that much further.

Heavy mouthes at his neck, biting down, then soothing it over with a tongue.

"Breathe."

Sniper does - or tries, laughs breathlessly. Heavy moves off of him then, far enough to grab a leg and flip him onto his back - gets a hand around the back of each of Snipers knees and pushes, almost folding him in half and spreading his legs wide. He lines up again quickly and thrusts back in with a grunt.

"F-fuck," Sniper manages, "That's it, yeah-- again!"

He does.

"Harder!"

Heavy apparently doesn't need to be told twice. He sets a punishing pace thrusting in hard and fast jabs, holding Sniper tightly down when he angles his hips just so and-

"Holy-- there! Right there, yes-" Sniper can't help the whine when the other man gives a particularly hard thrust, grinds in at the perfect angle then resumes a brutal pace, puts it do him deep, consciously aiming for that spot.

Heavy is talking to him in a low rumbling growl. It's not English, but it sounds filthy and though the words may be lost on Sniper, the tone sure isn't. So he responds in kind.

"Filling me up so good, hn, want your come."

Heavy hisses, then more Russian.

"Yeah-- hah, y'like that?"

"Da."

And Sniper knows that one. Heavy gives a particularly brutal thrust, as if to make his point.

"Hnn-- fuck! Ya gonna make me take it all? I'll take it all hn, hn, hah-- promise I can."

He has to stop talking just so he can concentrate on breathing.

Every push inward is now punching tiny hn, hn, hn sounds from him, dragging them out from deep in his gut, and he's loose enough now that every thrust squelches all the slick and pre-come in his hole. It's filthy and Sniper can't get enough of it, loves that he can't move from under Heavy's bulk; can only lie there and take and take and take.

Heavy leans his full weight on Sniper again, thrusting in earnest now. It feels like he's suffocating with Heavy's large chest and belly crushing down, winding him a little more with each slap of his hips and leaving him constantly breathless. Sniper wouldn't tell the man to get off, even if he could.

"Yes!" Sniper wastes precious air to keen when Heavy reaches down to palm his cock; it's a tight fit, but he barely has to touch it before Sniper's coming all over his belly and Heavy's hand.

The weight shifts and Sniper can breathe again - the sudden influx of oxygen intensifying his pleasure. The hand around his cock withdraws to settle on the back of his leg again and Sniper replaces it with it own, coaxes out as much come as he can get while gradually bringing himself down.

Heavy's thrusts are quick, short and desperate now. He's grunting out words that are still not english - and Sniper rocks back into it, barely able to reach around to grab Heavy's arse, pushing, encouraging.

"Give me your load-- want it," He growls, squeezing "You gonna shoot it all inside me? Yeah? C'mon big guy, fill me up."

Heavy leans into him again - his bulk forcing Sniper's thighs apart as far as they can go - and pushes one last time, groaning as he finally fills the sniper up with his come. There's so much of it and Heavy continues to grind down, deep as he can get.

The grinding gradually becomes lazy thrusts, pushing the come in, in, in just like Sniper asked for and he moans, unable to help himself at the wet squelching.

Eventually, Heavy pulls out. He does so carefully and begins to rub his hands along Sniper's legs, firmly massaging and coaxing them down from the position they've been forced into.

"Thanks, mate." Sniper sighs, wincing at a particularly stubborn cramp.

"Is no problem."

Next, Heavy wipes Sniper down with a shirt, cleaning the come off his belly and from between his legs. Sniper would help return the favour, but his limbs aren't cooperating yet. He doesn't know how the hell he's going to get up into his nest tomorrow...

He bats the other mans hand away weakly when it probes at his hole.

"You are okay?"

"Bit sore, s'all good." He feels completely spent and used. It's more than good.

"Sniper did very well."

Sniper snorts, amused.

"Is not many who can take me." Heavy insists.

"Anytime," He yawns.

Heavy stands at that and puts on his clothes. Sniper would offer him to stay, but they both know why that's not such a hot idea. At least things aren't awkward.

"Thank you for sandwich."

Sniper stares.

Well, that explains a bit.

"Might have to make you one again, sometime…"

Heavy smiles at that, but it has too many teeth - looks too dangerous to just be a nice, friendly gesture. Sniper would be hard right then, if he were at all capable.

"Yes, Heavy thinks so, too."




END




I feel like I should hide in shame. How do you write dirty talk? I don't know!