(By tantarted. Reposts everywhere!) BLU!Sniper/BLU!Spy oneshot. Kind of one of those silly PWPs. ----- Sometimes, even Sniper gets bored sitting in his loft all day, hunched over his rifle until his back is stiff. He doesn’t complain though, because it’s his job. And he likes his job. Especially the headshots. Always. It gives him a warm glow in his stomach every time. Today he starts climbing to his usual spot and runs into the team’s Spy. Spy is hobbling around with a cast around his foot, looking just as bored as he is. With his twisted ankle, Spy has been spending the past few days in Medic’s ward or, actually, trying to escape Medic’s ward. Usually he hides out with Sniper, though Sniper hates having to give him piggyback rides up and down the ladder. “I’m not carrying ya up there anymore,†Sniper says, trying to lose the spy, who has gotten abominably fast maneuvering around with practically one foot. Spy hugs the wall and makes a leap for Sniper’s waist. It only works because, shit, Sniper has never seen a flying rabid monkey before, and he guesses that’s what it would look like. It had scared the crap out of him, made him freeze up and stare in mute horror. “And who will keep you company zen?†Spy asks, hugging on so tightly that Sniper has to slide off the ladder back to the ground. Spy doesn’t really make his case like that, but when he hears Medic’s sinister voice float from the hallway, he scrabbles onto Sniper’s back and wraps his lanky arms and his legs around the Australian in a death vise. By this time, Sniper has only gained more and more respect for mother koalas as he starts climbing the ladder, swearing and grumbling under his breath about clingy and worthless baby cubs that eat shit. Even so, Spy is well-behaved and quiet during the climb because what’s to stop Sniper from letting go and killing them both? Unfortunately, the moment Sniper opens the hatch door and dumps Spy on the floor, Spy is talking, smoking, and following Sniper around the loft. Ignoring the jabbering Frenchman, Sniper sits down on a crate in front of his choice window, surveying the scene below him. He grins, seeing numerous REDs running back and forth. Hell, even the enemy spy is uncloaked and hanging around his engineer’s dispenser. “This is going to be too easy,†he says, more to himself than Spy, but Spy, of course, has to speak up. “If zat is zee case, ‘ow about we make eet more of a challenge?†Sometimes Spy comes up with good ideas. Sniper remembers the last time he had agreed, and they had played a drinking game. For every kill-shot he got, Spy would down a shot of Demoman’s scrumpy and the same went for Sniper for every time he missed. Sniper doesn’t remember much of the details, but he knew he had some fun that day. Spy had gotten shit-faced, and that was partly the reason why he had twisted his ankle. “I’m listenin’,†Sniper replies, poking the end of his rifle out through one of the cracks in the window. Spy flicks his cigarette away, crushing it under his good foot. He slides in front of Sniper and kneels down as best as he can, barely having enough room between the window and crate and Sniper’s legs. Sniper isn’t thinking, too preoccupied by the way Spy’s tongue had slowly licked the corner of his mouth, and scoots back a little. Now Spy is resting his hands on Sniper’s thighs, warm and still. He looks up at Sniper, smirking. “Let’s make a bet,†Spy says, and his hands start running up and down Sniper’s legs. Sniper holds his breath and doesn’t move. Spy continues casually, “I start sucking your dick, nice and slow, no ‘urry. Sound good? But if you don’t make a ‘eadshot by zee time you come, well, I will zink of a good punishment for you.†Sniper is dubious. He tries to draw in his legs but doesn’t get very far when Spy gets on his knees and rests his head and arms on Sniper’s lap. “And if I make the headshot?†he asks, hating how his voice comes out low and raspy. Spy’s face lights up and he’s wearing that devious grin of his. He pats Sniper’s crotch, thankfully still in check. “If you make zee ‘eadshot,†he murmurs sweetly, “you can ‘ave your way with me. And I will beg for eet.†At first, Sniper thinks it’s a win-win situation, but he sees Spy straightening his tie and adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves—a habit he does before each battle. Spy isn’t messing around, he’s serious and intends to win the bet. And the way he had said challenge before… Sniper suddenly feels as if his skill and reputation as a sniper were on the line. Sure, shooting people is easy. He does it all the time. But headshots? Headshots were bloody works of art. And Sniper is good at art. Also, Spy doesn’t beg. His pride wouldn’t allow it. Sniper knows, because he has been trying to get Spy to beg for a long time. That decides it almost as much as the fact Spy is challenging his expertise. Sniper loads the bullet into the rifle and snaps it closed. “Yer on, mate,†he tells Spy. Smirking, Spy rests his fingers lightly on Sniper’s belt. “I will start once you cock your rifle, monsieur.†Sniper doesn’t even look at Spy. He cocks his gun and almost immediately hears his belt unclasp and slip easily from the loops. Looking through the scope, he sees the REDs still milling around their dispenser. Occasionally one would dart away behind a building, but no matter what, there is always someone there. Sniper sights the RED Soldier, letting the scope charge. Spy is shuffling underneath him, not even at his dick yet. Wondering what was the hold up, Sniper glances down and nearly swallows his tongue. Spy is unbuttoning Sniper’s pants with his teeth. It takes a moment, by Spy seems to enjoy it. As soon as the button is free, he starts working on the zipper, delicately biting the tiny handle and tugging it down. It’s as sexy as hell at first, but then the zipper jams. Spy gives it a few more tugs, but is unsuccessful. Finally, he uses his hands and Sniper can’t help but snicker. Spy scowls, lifting his head, “I could ‘ave ran down to zee RED Base and stabbed zee Medic and Scout by now. Meanwhile, you are still sitting ‘ere on your ass.†Sniper feels his face heat up. He hasn’t even realized that he had been staring. Not wanting to waste any more time with a retort, he pops his aviators higher on the bridge of his nose with a finger and looks through his scope. He swears quietly under his breath. The RED Soldier had moved. Of course, he did. Sniper gets paid to shoot moving targets across the field, not empty soda cans on a fence, after all. He holds his gun steady, looking around again. The RED Engineer leans against his dispenser with a toolbox in his arms. Sniper smiles and takes aim. Spy is taking Sniper’s dick into his mouth just as he pulls the trigger with a surprised shout. The shot goes wild, pinging the side of their own building. The REDs don’t even hear it, but Sniper leans over, trying to get his bearings as Spy sucks his cock lightly, way too slow for Sniper’s tastes. Closing his eyes, he fumbles for another bullet, slides it into the rifle before shutting it with a satisfying click that is louder than the soft, throaty noises coming from Spy. When he aims at the RED Demoman, Sniper notices that his grip is too tight. He tries to loosen it, but that only tells him his palms are getting sweaty. Spy stops for a moment and Sniper wrestles with himself to not jerk his hips forward for more. This should be easy. Sniper shoots the RED Demoman. And misses. He doesn’t even know how that happened, not with Spy being perfectly still, his mouth hot and his teeth resting lightly over the shaft of Sniper’s stiffening cock. What’s worse, the Demoman has seen the puff of dust where the bullet hit the ground and starts jogging away, out of sight. Sniper reloads in a hurry, unable to choke back a moan as his own movement makes Spy’s teeth graze over his sensitive flesh. His next shot is at the retreating RED Engineer, that misses too, clipping the RED’s shoulder—no, no, no—and now the REDs are shouting at each other about Sniper, pointing in different directions. They don’t know where he is yet. Sniper can’t even feel relieved; he nearly drops the rifle as Spy’s tongue makes a leisurely pass over the slit of his cock, licking and teasing until Sniper whines quietly, letting one hand go of his rifle to grip hard on Spy’s shoulder. “Mother of God,†Sniper hisses, strained, before attempting to pull out another bullet from his vest. His hand is shaking; Spy’s tongue had stopped moving but he’s sucking twice as hard now. Sniper makes the mistake of looking down again to see Spy’s eyes half-lidded and—shit—the little cheating wanker is touching himself. Sniper tries to say something, but it comes out in a garbled growl. Attention caught, Spy’s eyes flickered upwards and he answers back with a condescending hum, sending vibrations that shoot all the way up to the pit of Sniper’s stomach like a hot, twisted coil. It’s no surprise when the bullet slips from Sniper’s fingers, rolling in a half-circle to hit Spy’s shoe. Spy’s cheeks cave in as he pops Sniper’s full erection from his mouth, seeming to marvel at his work before picking up the fallen bullet. “Zome’sing wrong with your gun, Sniper?†Spy asks, holding the bullet to his lips. He licks it, miming the motions of sucking Sniper’s cock, right down to letting his tongue run over the pointed tip. The only difference is that he is louder, moaning and leaving trails of saliva around the shell. “Give me that bullet,†Sniper says thickly, grabbing Spy’s tie and giving it a forceful yank. Spy chokes, eyes growing wide. “And get back to sucking my dick.†Not even waiting for an answer, Sniper takes the slippery bullet from Spy and reloads. The snap of the rifle seems to jolt Spy into action. He hungrily takes Sniper into his mouth, so deep that Sniper knows that he’s about to come soon. His hips are twitching and Spy has to have his hands on Sniper’s thighs to keep them both steady. There’s no way Sniper can aim without propping his gun on the window. From his mouth comes a mantra of “please, please, please,â€â€”he doesn’t even know why he’s so stubborn about getting that headshot anymore. The scope charges up and Sniper sees the enemy spy slinking around the dispenser, red vapors giving him away. Spy gives a growl, doing something with his tongue that nearly jerks Sniper out of his seat. But the crosshairs had aligned with the enemy spy’s head, and Sniper doesn’t know if it was because of Spy or his instincts, but his finger pulls the trigger. “Fuck—!“ Sniper shudders wildly, catching a glimpse of the RED falling over dead, before he slumps back and grabs on to Spy. “Oh, Christ. Oh, god.†He got the headshot. He had got the fucking headshot, and damn, it was good. Spy stands up, spitting cum on the floor and wiping his mouth. He takes the rifle from Sniper’s limp hands and looks through the scope. He frowns, glances at Sniper, and checks the scope again. Sniper stares, uncomprehending. He’d won, hadn’t he? “Wot?†Spy doesn’t seem to know what to say. “Did you have zee orgasm because of me, or zee ‘eadshot?†he finally asks. Sniper thinks it’s a stupid question, but when he opens his mouth, all that comes out is a very articulate, “Um?†Spy looks offended. “Wait—“ Sniper begins, but Spy is already hobbling to the hatch, dropping the rifle in disgust and swearing in French. “I’ll carry y’down,†Sniper offers desperately. Spy says something that translates nicely with a middle finger, which he gives Sniper before disappearing down the ladder, his foot cast making an awkward clunking noise with each step. And that was the last bet Sniper ever took with Spy.
(Part two) ------ Spy grips the ladder, clunking down the steps one at a time. It isn’t hard, not with his ankle mostly healed. The only reason why he keeps the cast is to mess with Sniper—not that he’ll be talking with that disgusting rifle-fucker any time soon. Spy had gone down to town with him, and what does that son of a bitch do? He comes from a headshot, a fucking headshot. Before he can fume any further, Spy decides it’s best to not dwell on it. It’s humiliating enough for the both of them. The ladder is twenty steps high; a long climb with the cast getting in the way, but Spy is too busy thinking of all the little witty things he’s going to say out loud if Sniper is ever in the same room as him. How’s many REDs did you shoot today? Did you have as many orgasms as you did killshots? Oh, my. Make sure the safety’s off before you start fucking your rifle… Spy comes up with a good dozen more before his cast gets caught on the fourth to last rung. “—Ack, merde!†He slips, flipping backwards with a noisy clatter and lands on his ass, giving new meaning to the word butthurt. Spy groans, gingerly feeling both his legs to see if he has somehow broken any of them. There’s no new pain aside from the slight ache of his already twisted ankle and, more recently, his ego. The ankle doesn’t hurt worse than it did before, so that’s good news, and there isn’t much Spy can do about his ego, except maybe stab a few REDs. The hatch door opens from above and Sniper is poking his head down. He doesn’t say anything for a while, but Spy’s glare prompts him into speaking. “You all roight?†he asks, sounding a little sheepish. “I am fine,†Spy quips, “though I do not zink I can say zee same for you. You should see Medic and check if eet eez safe to be putting all zat gun lube up your—“ Sniper goes down the ladder faster than Spy gives him credit for. He should have used one of the shorter taunts he came up with, but Sniper is suddenly grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, and none too gently. “You’d better shut yer mouth, spook,†he grunts, hauling Spy to his feet, “Up you go.†Spy grits his teeth, standing up so he doesn’t suffocate. He gets up all right, but not in the way he wants to. His erection from hearing Sniper moan while giving head earlier has been wearing off… up until now when Sniper decides to get rough, calloused hands on the back of Spy’s neck and around his arm in a tight grip. It’s enough make Spy’s cock remind him that he has some unfinished business. Oh, he knows what he wants, and he hates himself for it. Thankfully, Sniper doesn’t seem to notice his discomfort. Shifting away, Spy is about to make his escape, but Sniper snatches the closest part of Spy—his flapping tie. It probably wasn’t intentional, the way Spy had tried to run away—it jerks him back, makes him turn to face Sniper, a little breathless. Much to his embarrassment, Spy gives a tiny, thin whine. They stare at each other. Sniper falls silent, like he’s trying to figure out why Spy’s face must be turning bright red with mortification. “Ah,†he says with a slow grin. “You wanted me to win the bet, didn’t ya?†Pretending that Sniper’s predatory leer is doing nothing to him, Spy laughs, “You keep telling yourself zat, mon cher.†“Well, there’s no harm in checkin’ then,†Sniper replies easily, wrenching Spy forward by the tie into his arms. One of his hands comes down to grab Spy’s ass, squeezing tight. Spy bites back a yelp, even as Sniper’s leg comes up to rub between his thighs. Unable to help himself, he moans into Sniper’s shirt, hips jerking in small, involuntary thrusts. Not even knowing that he had a leg hooked around the other’s waist, Spy feels Sniper try to pry him away all too soon. He immediately lets go, stumbling back and nearly hissing like an affronted cat. “Lookin’ a little hot and bothered there, Spy,†Sniper comments, ignoring Spy’s death glare. He steps closer until he has the Frenchman’s back pressed against the ladder, leans forward and whispers in a low growl, “No shame in wanting somethin’ different every now and then, mate. All y’had to do was ask. I would’ve ‘ad you screaming and beggin’ in no time.†Spy begins to panic. Not outwardly, no. But there’s a crazy fluttering in his stomach and he starts to want nothing more than Sniper on top of him, making him writhe and struggle and, oh god, he wants it loud and hard. “How ‘bout we go easy for now? Start by saying ‘please’,†Sniper says innocently, so close that Spy is only centimeters away from biting off that smirk of his. Spy’s jaw clenches and Sniper looks disappointed; he doesn’t quite pout, but the effect is still there in the form of a furrowed brow. “You can say it in French if y’want,†Sniper suggests. “How does it go again?†His eyes flicker upward, as if trying to remember something. When they focus back on Spy, Sniper continues huskily, “…je veux que tu me dise‘s'il vous plaît’.†I want you to say ‘please’. Spy stares at Sniper. The words are stilted and unnatural, accent all wrong, but there’s a faint, tasteful tone of coarseness overlaying the gentler language, and the sound of it goes straight to Spy’s crotch. He feels his mouth go dry, wrestling with his dwindling resolve. How Sniper learned that much French, Spy doesn’t know, but there’s something about Sniper murmuring lowly in his native tongue that triggers his shoulders to tense and breath to hitch. “Dis-le,†Sniper growls softly into his ear, and then Spy stops breathing all together. It doesn’t go unnoticed. “Oh, yer liking the sound of that, aren’t ya?†Seeing a triumphant gleam in Sniper’s eyes, it takes Spy only another moment to suck in air, swallow his pride, and hiss out, “S'il te plait.†It’s not begging. Not technically, not yet. Sniper rewards him with a long, dirty kiss that sends them both moaning into each other’s mouths. It only lasts for a moment before Sniper pulls away, panting slightly. “Not here,†he says, a little nervously. The change in his tone causes Spy’s self-dignity to reappear and he’s tempted to push Sniper away, but Sniper reaches for his tie again and, like a leash, he gives it a yank. Choking, Spy can do nothing but follow him down the hallway and into the resupply closet. A little part of his mind admits that he wasn’t resisting as much as he should have been, especially when Sniper shoves him in and closes the closet door, locking it from the inside. “It was a good start,†Sniper admits, leaning against the door, “Now say it louder, darlin’.†Spy coughs, taking off his tie and throwing it on the ground. Recovering quickly, he glances around the closet. There are medicine bottles on shelves, numerous first-aid kits, boxes, and a singly lonely light bulb dangling above him. They’d been in here before, done plenty of unmentionable acts, and the familiarity of it makes Spy start to unbutton his shirt slowly, smiling when Sniper’s eyes don’t leave his body. “You are wasting your time,†Spy says, shrugging it off, “We can simply get on with eet now.†Scowling, Sniper gets down on his knees and his hands make their way to Spy’s belt. Surprised, but nowhere near discouraging it, Spy leans back and places his palms on a low shelf, allowing the Australian to snake his pants down to the floor. It takes a while to tug over the cast, even kind of ridiculous enough for Spy to briefly regret keeping it on longer than necessary. He rocks slightly back and forth as Sniper takes him into his mouth. Feeling Sniper’s tongue play around the shaft, he moans and tightens his grip on the shelf. Now that he is more self-aware, Spy tries to be quieter than usual, keeping his groans to a minimum, though he can’t help jerking into Sniper’s hot mouth. It’s quiet, save for the sound of lapping and the occasional murmur of approval from Spy. Really now, Sniper is pretty good at blowjobs, but if he wants Spy to beg, well, Sniper isn’t that good. Though his hands tremble, Spy smirks and sighs in a quivery voice, “Nice try, mon cher—“ He suddenly splutters out the rest of his words incomprehensibly as Sniper pulls off and grabs the base of his cock, jamming two—or three, fuck, Spy can’t tell—fingers into him at the same time. Sniper doesn’t rub or slide them in and out; they curl in. Feeling like a tightly coiled wire, Spy begins to shake uncontrollably. “Just a bit of encouragement,†Sniper explains, laughing when Spy makes a wholly embarrassing noise. Christ, he’s supposed to be coming; Spy feels it. But he wasn’t. He squirms desperately around Sniper’s hand, but is kept in place between the other man’s grasp and the shelves. Another awkward squeak escapes his throat and there’s an uncomfortable icy spike that seems to hit is spine, making him gasp loudly. Oh god, oh god—he’s not coming—it’s trapped, somewhere in the middle of his dick and not going anywhere, and Sniper’s grinning like a smug idiot. Spy whimpers, “I can’t… eet’s not—†and cries out when Sniper’s squeezes tighter. It fucking hurts now, but there’s no denying the burning lances of pleasure every time the rough fingers in him shift. “S'il te plait!†he wheezes, “Please, just let—“ Even through his writhing and gasping, Spy sees that Sniper is unimpressed. Sniper starts saying something, but Spy’s stopped listening long ago, and everything just snaps when Sniper gently licks the head of his throbbing cock and hums around the head. Spy arches back, knocking over bottles of medicine, and screams while grabbing hard on the back of Sniper’s head, “Fils de pute! Fuck—ah—fuck! S'il te plait, I’ll do anything—oh god, please!†He feels like he’s been babbling for hours before Sniper seems satisfied, rubbing his fingers once more before pulling them out and sucking hard on Spy’s cock. Spy chokes, not sure whether to howl or sob when he comes, and comes, and comes. The room spins and, for a moment, he doesn’t even care, yelling every obscenity that he can think of. It’s almost deliciously painful, having Sniper draw everything out, taking the last spurt and then spitting it all on the tiled floor. “That wasn’t so hard, roight?†Sniper finally says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Spy is so dazed and angry, he can’t figure out anything to say. He clings on to the shelf and tries to gather his thoughts. Oh, fuck, he thinks he likes it—the screaming and pleading, no holding back anything. Spy slumps onto the ground, silent except for his recovering breath. Meanwhile, Sniper is sitting back, smirking, and probably believes he’s gotten Spy down and out. Spy stares at Sniper, thinking furiously. He wants revenge, and he wants it now. Revenge, of course, is one of his strong points. It doesn’t take him long to figure out what to do next, but there is a tiny thought in the back of his mind that worries if it is less of revenge or more of just wanting it again. Spy crawls over to Sniper and almost wilts immediately at his touch. The thing about begging, Spy realizes, is that he can’t act as if he knows what he’s doing—and he needs to be desperate. The thought makes him wince internally. Spy can be seductive, but not that. And it didn’t count, him screaming at Sniper a few moments ago. Spy refuses to admit that it did. There’s a difference, he thinks, between being forced to beg and just begging for the sake of driving your partner absolutely mad. Sniper is busy searching for medical lube, rummaging through one of the boxes and completely ignoring Spy save for a hand that absently rests against Spy’s cheek, thumb idly tracing the edge of the balaclava above his right eye. Spy can see the Australian is hard and aching, but aside from the bulge in his trousers and flushed face, Sniper is fairing pretty well. This is, after all, the man Spy challenged to make a headshot while being given a blowjob. Sniper does have an admirable amount of patience and endurance. And, at this moment, Spy wants nothing more than to break it. “Fuck me,†he says, climbing into Sniper’s lap with lazy ease, sitting comfortably between his legs. The words do almost nothing, too damn seductive and demanding. “Been plannin’ on it,†Sniper answers, still smirking. He holds up the medical lube with a raised brow—a taunt. Determined to correct his mistake, Spy gives a soft, disappointed whine that makes the hand on his cheek still. With a small turn of his head, Sniper’s fingers are at his lips. Spy licks the tips once, grasping Sniper’s wrist delicately. “Ahh—will you take me on my back?†he moans quietly, running his teeth lightly over Sniper’s palm. “Or on my knees? Or per’aps against zee wall? Please, let eet be against zee wall…†There’s no answer, but Spy can see that Sniper’s eyes widen and mouth part in disbelief. The Australian’s deepening blush gives away his intense arousal, and when Spy tries to paw off his shirt, the other man’s expression becomes slightly wild. One by one, the buttons snap off to expose Sniper’s chest. Remembering all the times where he had simply pushed him down without a second thought, Spy slips off his gloves and tentatively places a hand over the other man’s chest, feeling the slick skin, raised hairs, and quickening heartbeat beneath his palm. So this is what it’s like to go slow. He has to hold back a grin—Sniper just looks so dumbfounded, ready to break or attack, Spy can’t guess, but he wants to find out. “Are you going to make me scream? Cover my mouth? Gag me?†he continues, slowly trailing his hand down to Sniper’s pants. No teeth this time, he’s going to need his mouth to keep talking, “Corner me? Make me beg?†There. He’s said it, and it’s all so easy, it’s disgraceful. The button comes off cleanly and he pulls at the zipper. He can hear Sniper exhale sharply, hands bracing the ground as he lifts his hips so that Spy can tug the pants off his ass. They bunch up around Sniper’s thighs, but both of them are beyond caring, especially when Spy leans forward for the last time, whispering into Sniper’s ear. “Sniper,†he murmurs—and he tells himself he planned for his voice to crack like he’s been broken over—because to hell with it if it doesn’t make Sniper any more turned on, “Please… fuck me ‘ard.†He sees all the patience leave Sniper’s eyes, even before the man lurches forward, pining Spy roughly to the ground. Spy shivers, the cold tiled floor a sharp contrast to the heated body above him. With a snarl, Sniper starts covering his neck with bruising kisses that Spy doesn’t recognize. He hasn’t realized how restrained Sniper had been until now. It’s marvelous. A bite at his collar bone wipes the next few thoughts from Spy’s head and he moans, grabbing a hold of Sniper’s bare shoulders. He tries to hook his leg over Sniper’s waist, but Sniper pushes it away, holding it down firmly. “I’m going to make you come apart,†the Australian promises, teeth bared in a feral grin. Distantly, Spy knows that he has already done the same to Sniper, but that wickedly impatient expression on other man is making Spy forget how to speak, so he is barely able to whimper, “God, y-yes. Make me.†Licking the corner of his mouth, Sniper moves aside. “Stand up. Back against the wall.†It doesn’t escape Spy’s notice that Sniper’s voice is clipped and harsh. He discards the idea of taking his time just to drive Sniper over the edge, figuring that he’s been pushed far enough. Spy hurries over to press against the corner of the closet, knocking down mops and brooms that clatter nosily to the ground. Deep down, Spy knows that he is just as impatient as the other man. He eyes Sniper with a hungry need to just be taken, just watching Sniper irritably kick away his pants from his ankles, clumsily slicking himself with lube—it pushes out the trickling sense of doubt and humiliation of begging. “Je te veux,†Spy mutters, almost involuntarily, and half-hopes Sniper can hear and understand, but he is given a blank, annoyed look. Spy loses it a bit, clarifies in simple, angry English: “Can you ‘urry? I fucking want you—†Even before he finishes the sentence, Sniper is knocking the wind from his lungs, hands resting flat against the wall at either side of Spy’s head. Chest to chest, the Australian drags his teeth over Spy’s mouth and down to his neck. A simple touch at Spy’s hip prompts him to shift his legs, spreading them. He has to prop himself on the shelf with one hand while the other tightly grips Sniper’s shoulder. There’s no pause, no silent exchange of glances—the way Sniper would normally do it. Now, without even checking to see if Spy is ready, Sniper ruthlessly presses in his cock, fast and rough, but so precise that the Frenchman immediately rolls his head back, hitting it on the wall with a dizzying smack. “Ah, don’t stop,†Spy mumbles incoherently, closing his eyes. It was just as well he did not bother repeating himself since Sniper was too busy pushing a part of the balaclava up and working over the hollow of his throat. “Tell me want you want,†Sniper chuckles, low and dangerous, his breath hot on Spy’s neck. He shifts with a soft moan, but it causes Spy to wince. “Keep, ngh—keep talking. Beg.†“I don’t—just, anything,“ Spy croaks, trying to stifle his cries of both frustration and pleasure. God, he doesn’t even know how to say it without asserting himself, rolling his hips forward, making Sniper thrust back in reaction. “Damn eet, just fuck me through zee walls!†To his surprise, Sniper obliges. Maybe he got tired of fooling around or something; he crushes Spy into the wall without hesitation, thrusting over and over. Spy thinks he might have screamed a little, the waves of pleasure hitting him hard and fast. At first, he can’t even get his thoughts in order but over time he soon realizes that Sniper becomes more forceful, more rhythmic every time Spy cries out, the louder the better. He quiets for a moment, biting his lip. Is that how it’s going to work? Fine. He can play too. The moment Sniper slows down, Spy whispers sweetly, “you bastard,†and wraps his legs tight around the Australian’s waist, damn it, and the cast—it’s almost awkward. Almost. Using his ass and the wall to shove off—to hell with being passive—Spy’s arms come to Sniper’s head, his shoulder, anything that can be held on to. Sniper staggers back, cursing and moaning, trying to carry all of Spy’s weight. He veers off to the side, slamming Spy back against the door. The handle digs deep into Spy’s side, making him cry out. He’s vaguely aware of a loud click before registering what was happening. “No, wait—!†he gasps over the pain, but Sniper shuts him up with a jerk of his hips. Spy feels the door swing open, the outside air cool and sharp, and sure enough, the both of them come tumbling out of the resupply closet. Spy decides that it was very lucky of him to have kept his hold on Sniper while the Australian stumbles to his knees and hands, making Spy’s landing less of a crushing topple. And, even more fortunate, Sniper was still fucking in him. “Oh, Christ,†Sniper mutters shakily, “I don’t care, let’s just finish—ah!†They were in the middle of the hallway where anyone could see, anyone could hear, and any sound made would echo all over the base. Sniper would usually worry about the former, and Spy the latter (himself being loud, specifically), but if Sniper was going to disregard all that then Spy knew that he would have to match up. “Yes, keep… a-ah! More, keep going,†he moans with enough helplessness to make the hesitant look on Sniper’s face disappear. Completely wild-eyed, Sniper jerks his hips. Spy writhes and whines, making every shameful noise just to keep him moving in and out. It’s like he can’t shut up now, he’s still gibbering, shameless and needy each time Sniper hits that intoxicating spot inside him. “Ah! Faster, god, more…†When Sniper grabs his cock, the words stop forming in Spy’s mouth and he’s reduced to whimpering, so close, so close. With a choked back groan, Sniper suddenly shudders, releasing into Spy, and makes the sexiest goddamn expression Spy has ever seen. Unwilling to take that observation any further, he closes his eyes, but doesn’t even try to stifle back his yell this time around as he reaches his orgasm. “Merde,†he murmurs afterwards, letting go of Sniper and becoming acutely aware of his immediate surroundings—the cold floor, the dirt on his sweating back, Sniper hovering above him, panting and wonderfully flushed. Oh, and then the rest of their team staring at them. Every single one. Sniper’s eyes widen and he stiffens like a rabbit. Spy would have done the same, but since Sniper did it first, he settles for throwing them all a bored, disdainful look. The silence stretches on for about a minute before Scout breaks the silence, but not in the way Spy expects. “I fuckin’ called that shit,†Scout crows, “I told ya dey’d fucked right outta da closet with Sniper owning Frenchie’s ass.†“The one time I put some faith in you,†Soldier sneers at Spy, slapping some American dollars into Scout’s outstretched palm, “You let me down, maggot.†Medic also makes a grunt of disappointment, handing over his ration of instant coffee to Demoman, “I did not know Sniper was capable of such stamina.†“Does not make sense, with tiny frame and sitting around all day,†Heavy agrees, eyeing Sniper’s naked body critically. Spy has never been uncomfortable with his own body, but he secretly admits that he’s glad Sniper is on top of him, blocking most of the view from the rest of the team. “Well, if you gentlemen are through,†Spy drawls, feigning ease when, in fact, he is embarrassed out of his right mind. Engineer, bless him, has the decency to start herding the gambling group out of sight, though it doesn’t stop him from adding with a snicker, “I wager my wristwatch that they’ll start cuddlin’ sometime later.†“Fuck you, Engie,†both Sniper and Spy snap at the same time. It takes a moment to make sure that they’re alone, the rest of the team’s footsteps fading fast. “We’ll never bet again,†Sniper mutters back in the resupply closet, buttoning up his shirt angrily. He looks up to catch Spy smirking at him and holding out his hand. “Zen it is a deal, mon cher,†Spy says with a challenging gleam in his eyes. Sniper smirks, and they grip hands. “Yer on.†--- End.
oh fuck this was hilarious at the end. I honestly didn't expect that since people usually play scout out as a "fag hater."
Nice work, I loved how you made spy beg when he was not sure he wanted to.
this fic was a lot of fun to read-- sexy, funny, thoughtful, well-written. Thank you kindly, OP!
This was bloody brilliant
Amazing, sexy, and funny. Top shelf!
Well now, that was just fantastic.
Gotta echo everyone else's sentiments. Lovely work, OP! I really hope you have some other stuff floating about the place.
Amazing, sexy and it made me laugh out loud! Do go on please!
Thank God for reposts. This was my favorite fic ever.
I think this is my favorite story ever.
>>12 Aaaand once more for the brain-impaired. Please look at the date of your post. Then look at the date of the post before that. Notice anything? THIS IS A REPOST AND IT'S 10 MONTHS OLD GODDAMMIT. Stop digging up old posts unless you have something OF SUBSTANCE to add to them. It's annoying as fuck.
>>13 I actually haven't seen this one before, so I'm grateful to the bumping anon. Maybe it doesn't excuse necroposting, but some good can come of it.