Every repost is a repost repost. By Charshy.

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WHY YES I HAVE BEEN DYING TO USE THAT AS A TITLE FOR SOMETHING.

Anyway. One-shot Medic/Spy smut. Based off my other fic, Chances, but not compulsory for reading delicious porns. Enjoy. <3

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“Are you sure you’re not hurting anywhere,” Medic asked, a deep frown lining his face as he eyed up his patient, his lips slightly pursed.

“As if I could hide it from you,” the retort came warmly, and Medic had to concede the man had a point, as he slid gracefully from the hospital bed. “See.”

“Very well,” Medic answered, and scribbled a note of his discharge onto the paper of his clipboard, before putting it down on the field hospital table.

Spy smiled, pleased to be allowed to leave at last. There had been a number of skirmishes in the weeks since joining RED, and he had been unfortunate enough to have been on the receiving end of some severe punishment: a few broken ribs, fractured clavicle, and numerous cuts and bruises. Predictably, his former team hadn’t taken too kindly to his switch. The marks had now faded, and the stitches from various operations had been removed. Medic was good at what he did.

It had been strange in the hospital. When working, Medic’s first and only concern was healing his patient. It made sense, he supposed, to cope with seeing blood and guts of your friends around you, but it had made the hospital stay somewhat dull: Medic insisted on letting his injuries heal to their fullest, so had put any hopes of horseplay out of his head at once.

“You’re so professional, mon chèri,” Spy teased, snaking his arms around the other man’s waist. “But I would like my clothes, if you don’t mind.”

He was wearing a hospital gown, but it was so thin he may as well have been naked.

Medic cleared his throat. “On the back of that chair, Spy,” he said, firmly.

Spy rolled his eyes, and fetched his clothes, pulling them on. Medic didn’t turn around, scribbling onto his documents, finishing his patient report no doubt. The suit was freshly-pressed, and not a single bloodstain or tear, and it felt good to put it on, right down to the tie. His mask, of course, had remained on at all times. The balaclava was no longer navy blue, but he valued it for its function. It kept him alive.

Medic’s pen dropped to the desk and he finally turned around, although by now Spy was fastening his shoes.

“It’s good to see you like yourself,” Medic said, smiling slightly.

Spy nodded. It couldn’t have been easy, he realised suddenly, for Medic to have been the one to fix him up, seeing him weak and battered. So as he came over, he swooped to plant the Medic an unexpected kiss, backing him up against the table.

“Not here,” Medic chided, turning his face evasively when Spy tried to continue, his lips meeting his cheek instead. “Let me take you back to your room.”

That sounded good to Spy. The medical room was a long way, giving them plenty of opportunity to talk enroute, leaving much more time for other things. Spy was aware Medic had a busy schedule: he wasn’t the only one that had been injured, and the others required checking up on.

“I feel like a new man,” Spy declared as they walked, side-by-side. “Thank you, docteur.”

Medic waved a hand dismissively to say it was nothing. “You were a good patient.” A troubled look fell across his face.

Spy frowned. “What is it?”

Medic looked hesitant. “You tolerated the pain so well. I thought maybe you had lost feeling, but your reflexes were all there when I worked on you.” He said carefully, “Is that not the worst you’ve been through?”

Spy shrugged. “I’m a Spy. We are trained to resist torture. And I have seen my fair share of hospital beds.” He continued quickly, “But don’t be worried. I learn from my mistakes. That was the first in a long time, and I would like to make it the last.”

Medic nodded, but Spy sensed that something else was eating at him, but he seemed to be thinking. He opted not to interrupt. Medic had never withheld anything from him so far, and he trusted the man. He assumed that the reverse was true, or hoped so, because he had yet to win the confidence of the rest of the team, and that he could understand.

They reached the door in silence, and Spy was glad to see his mended cigarette case waiting for him on the desk… damn, it had been a while since he’d had one of those…

“No,” Medic said sternly. “You’re not having them yet.”

Spy turned to him, annoyed at being bossed about, but noticed Medic seemed to regret his words. It was unlike him to speak thoughtlessly.

“Spy,” Medic said finally, “I had a question. I… am not sure if it appropriate to ask.”

“Ask it,” Spy said at once, wanting to know what weighed on the doctor’s mind. “Words won’t hurt me.”

“… Would you ever let me remove that mask?”

Spy blinked. He hadn’t expected that question. “My mask?”

“I’ve seen all of you, I know all of you except your face. I don’t know what you look like,” Medic said, a little sadly. “I can’t help but wonder. Will that always be?”

Spy sighed, understanding. Not once had he let anyone see him without his mask, not even his lover.

“My mask preserves my identity,” Spy explained, “And until I leave service, it has to remain secret… if I ever want to leave service, that is. Otherwise, I am a target, forever hunted.” He paused, trying to put his thoughts into words. “I know that is a long time away. For now, my mask is my face, Medic.”

Medic nodded, and Spy looked at him imploringly. “I will give you anything else I have. My identity, too, when I retire. Until then…”

“I understand.” Medic put a hand on his shoulder. “I thought as much, but it does fascinate me, wondering what you really look like.” He smiled a bit. “But yes. I accept this. And…”

“And?”

Medic looked a little embarrassed. “Well, I can’t say I don’t find it… a little kinky.”

Spy’s eyes widened with delight. “Oh, kinky?” He said, intrigued by this little titbit of information. “Now I am curious… what else should I know?”

Medic laughed as Spy pulled his tie loose, wrapping it around his finger, holding it hostage. “Well, not seeing your face, I have to use some imagination –”

“What else do you imagine,” Spy purred, already having several images conjured up in his mind, and deciding on a method of loosening the other man’s tongue… using his own, against his neck.

“Mm, well…” Spy could feel the heat radiating from the other man on this topic. “Nothing extreme… being… restrained, a little…”

“Perhaps we should experiment,” Spy murmured against his neck, beginning to loosen the tie in his hands.

“Perhaps we should,” Medic agreed in a deep sigh, melting into the attention, secretly thrilled at the possibilities.

“Then you want to know what I’d like?” Spy murmured up against his ear, nibbling at the lobe.

“Mm…?”

Spy unhooked his own tie, and wrapped around Medic’s wrists suggestively. “To try this right now.”

Medic nodded fervently, hypnotised by the wicked sparks of the other man’s eyes. “Ja,” he whispered, face tilting upwards as Spy began relinquishing him of his clothes, the better to feel his fingers roam over his bared skin.

He was led firmly to the bed, where his boots were yanked from him, and he had to repress the smile as Spy landed backwards for his efforts. Spy dived on his jodhpurs at once, pulling them and his underwear down in one swift move, freeing him from the layers of tight fabric. He was getting harder with the thought of what might be next, his cock resting against his hip, but beginning to graze his stomach.

Gazing upward from where he lay, Medic caught sight of two colours, and realised Spy was still holding their ties in one gloved hand.

“Trés beau,” Spy murmured throatily, admiring the view from where he stood, twirling the ties idly between his fingers. “And all mine.”

With that, he grabbed Medic’s arms, joining them at the wrist, before taking the doctor’s own tie and tying his hands together. He grinned at his handiwork as Medic tried to move them, without success. He kissed Medic hard, before pushing him down onto the bed, lying down in front of him. A thrill ran down his spine, to become a sharp ache between his legs as Medic obediently raised his arms above his head, inviting him to ravish and worship.

Spy’s freshly-pressed suit became a crumpled mass on the floor as he hastily made to do so. Medic’s eyes followed appreciatively as Spy joined him on the bed, sliding between his legs and leaning over him for a deep, appreciative kiss.

“Mm,” Medic murmured as their skin brushed, an almost electrical charge setting his nerves alight. His hips raised slightly, but Spy pushed them back down, grinning.

“Not yet, mon chèri.”

He rested on his forearms, leaning into the crook of the doctor’s neck, feeling the traces of stubble prickle against his lips, before kissing and biting, finding that nice, tender spot near his shoulder that made the doctor’s breath become faster and shallower. His hands, meanwhile, fluttered his tie over his skin – he still held it – as they ran over his chest and stomach.

Spy languidly worked his way down past his collarbone, leaving little rose marks where he bit and sucked at the skin whilst Medic’s breaths came in small gasps.

“Is good… m-more…”

Spy acted as though he did not hear, and continued his lazy trail, although he could not resist taking a hard nipple between his teeth, and flicking the tip of his tongue over the sensitive skin.

Medic twitched, a soft whimper coming from him. Spy liked that sound, and repeated the process for the other nipple, trying not to smirk as he felt the stomach muscles beneath him tighten. His fingers liked the feel of the tense skin, trailing them lower, and lower…

“Mm,” Spy commented, as Medic attempted to raise his hips towards his hands. “After something?”

“Anything. Do what you want with me,” Medic murmured feverishly, his eyes closed, his glasses fogged.

Spy growled softly, finding the words irresistible. “Saying something like that… you ask for trouble.”

“I trust you.”

Spy’s jaw nearly dropped, but Medic’s eyes were closed, so there was no sign of lost composure. When… had he ever… been told he could be trusted, by anyone?

Something as special, as rare as that, put all thoughts out of his head of the slow, sensual torture he had been planning to put Medic through.

“Alright,” Spy answered, his voice surprisingly soft, as an idea formed in what remained of his rational mind, sliding back up the length of Medic’s body, and plucking his glasses from his face.

Medic’s eyes opened hazily, but Spy raised his tie over them, and turned it into a blindfold, tying it tightly, more so than he had done the wrists.

“Can you see anything?”

“Nein.”

Medic wondered what Spy was up to, and hoped he wasn’t going to take this too far, when he heard Spy move, and something soft hit the floor. He didn’t get time to wonder what it was, as he was kissed, deeply and sweetly…

He realised with a jolt something was different. Skin. Warm, flushed skin of his chin and nose pressed against him.

“You-” Medic exclaimed, in the moment he should’ve taken for air.

“Mm-hm,” Spy answered, and Medic drew him in with his arms, his bound hands useful for this task, so as better to feel him. He could feel light stubble, not as harsh as his, soft skin, slightly damp with perspiration. He explored his face with his lips like a blind man would Braille with fingertips.

His hands shook slightly as his curiosity was fuelled, pushing Spy down slightly, so his hands could find his hair. He let his fingertips slide into it, not able to trace the scalp with his bound hands… the hair was thick and soft; he wondered what colour it was.

Spy busied himself meanwhile by kissing and biting his skin… it was just too much to stand.

“Spy,” Medic breathed, writhing until Spy’s weight left his chest. He turned himself over with a little effort, resting onto his elbows. “Please…”

“Oui,” Spy whispered, leaning over him, running his hands down to the other man’s hips, before kissing his nape, trailing his lips down his spine. Medic moaned, still finding the feel of skin and stubble instead of fabric a delicious new sensation.

Until Spy upped the ante, his hands grasping his ass, and suddenly his tongue dipped below his tailbone.

“Ah-!” Medic shuddered, a small part of him thinking of medical hygiene and the larger part thinking don’t stop, oh god, more… or was he actually saying it aloud? Spy’s tongue was ruthless and working against him harder, until he began to rock back slightly, wanting more, deeper and harder… “bumsen Sie mich jetzt…!”

No translation was needed. A tone like that had Spy obeying at once, grabbing the lubricant from its bedside home and slicking himself quickly, holding onto his lover’s back with one hand, whilst guiding with the other, pressing against him until the slightest give, easing inside.

“… de merde!” Spy swore, as Medic let him slide in easily, right to the hilt. “Medic…”

“Yes,” Medic moaned, pressing his hips back, desperately. With his eyesight gone, it seemed as though his other senses were working overtime to compensate.

Spy shivered at the push, and didn’t hesitate to respond, riding hard and fast as Medic wanted it, leaning over his back until they slid to almost their stomachs, sweat-slick and grinding together.

Medic cried out as his cock dragged against the bedsheets, adding a rough dimension to their play, but Spy took it in hand, stroking him firmly, making the other man swear and gasp and moan.

“God… mon chèri,” Spy moaned against his back, kissing away droplets of sweat.

When Medic’s hips began to rock erratically, Spy tried to keep them both in check, but the frantic pace was too much for him as well.

“Spy!” Medic cried, and that note of desperation drove Spy to give it his all, faster, harder, wanting him to come first…

Medic’s back arched beautifully, and he came into his hand forcefully, his body spasming with the intensity of his orgasm. It was enough to make Spy lose his mind, and with a shudder he spilled deep inside, feeling stunned and satisfied.

It took few moments for them to recover breath, disengaging to wrap around each other in a satisfied heap.

Spy smiled as Medic nuzzled and kissed at his face lazily, and helped him out by untying his wrists, and soothing them with his fingers.

Medic sighed at having his hands free, reaching for the blindfold, but was stopped at once.

“Un moment.”