1 . Name: TeratoMarty @ 2012-08-18 12:23

So, someone told me that I should tag my stories with warnings for triggers and controversial topics. Here goes: if you don't want to read something sick and twisted, go find something that doesn't say "TeratoMarty" at the top.

Special thanks to Jathis and Flatmongoose for beta-reading for me. Thanks to Inky for the title. This is the first thing I've written after a long bout of writer's block, so I welcome any constructive criticism. Of course, I also welcome gushing praise. My confidence in my writing has taken rather a clobbering lately. Just leave a comment of some kind, will you?
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No sooner had the battle ended than the Sniper and the Medic converged on each other. The Australian lowered himself from the roofline, rifle slung over his shoulder; the German strode in from the field, coat stiff with drying blood. They bared their teeth at each other in identical predatory grins - the battle had left them hungry.

While their teammates hurried to the mess hall for more conventional sustenance, the Medic and Sniper latched onto each other, biting and sucking at one another’s necks as they grappled. The Sniper slammed the Medic against the wall, yanking his hair to expose his throat. The Australian snarled with surprise as the shorter, broader man reversed the hold, tearing the Sniper’s shirt open.

“Herr Sniper,” the Medic dragged on the torn cloth, hauling the taller man’s face level with his own. “Shall we seek some privacy?”

“Why bother?” The assassin flashed his feral, crooked smile. ”Just shag me rancid right here.” He clawed at the doctor’s fly.

“No, mein freund,” the Medic’s eyes narrowed, and he whispered into the Sniper’s ear, “What I have in mind requires a pillow.”

The Sniper leered. “So that’s how you want it?”

“Ja. Come with me.” The German grabbed a handful of the Australian’s vest and hauled him toward the barracks.

In the Medic’s quarters, they began to tear at clothing in earnest. They pawed each other as they did so, breaking contact only to shuck off layers. Fully naked, they grappled again, treading on their cast-off clothes and knocking over furniture until the Sniper got the Medic in a headlock and down on one knee.

“Let me go,” the Medic hissed between his teeth, “And I will make you beg for mercy.”

“Like the sound of that.” The Sniper bit the Medic’s ear and let him go, then sprawled face-down on the bed, legs spread wide. “Do yer worst.”

The Medic knelt on the bed between the other man’s lean thighs. He licked up the length of the Australian’s spine, savouring his salty musk, then back down, burying his face between the man’s buttocks. He breathed in deep draughts of the scent, then exhaled noisily over the other man’s ass.

“Gah, get to it!” the Australian snarled.

“What, begging already?” the Medic taunted. The marksman drew breath to retort, but before he could speak, the Medic pressed his mouth against the Sniper’s ass and moaned. The Sniper groaned in response, toes curling as his legs spread wider.

“That’s it,” the Medic gloated indistinctly, then hummed against the sensitive flesh again. He lapped and probed at the Sniper’s tight hole, saliva dripping down onto the other man’s balls. Every time the hunter squirmed, he licked faster; as the Australian bucked up toward him, he drove his tongue deeper.

“God, yes,” the Sniper moaned, spreading his legs until he straddled the narrow mattress. The German changed his technique, flicking his tongue lightly across the Australian’s ass and fondling his balls until the tall man was whimpering into the pillow.

“You like that, ja?”

“I’m still not beggin’.”

The German spread one final wet lick over the Sniper’s ass, then backed up to slide a finger inside him. He probed the marksman’s ass with fearsome anatomical accuracy, giving him a moment of nauseous overstimulation before easing into gentler pressure. As the Sniper panted into the pillow, the Medic began to stroke his cock.

Half-formed obscenities and wordless moans poured from the Sniper’s mouth. He pressed himself onto the Medic’s finger, arching his back. His thighs shook as the pleasure built.

The Medic curled his finger so that it rested directly on the prostate, moving just the tip as he stroked the marksman ever closer to orgasm with his other hand. When the Australian’s cock throbbed against his hand, he switched his grip to drag the Sniper’s balls away from his body without ever letting up on his prostate. Orgasm thwarted, the Sniper howled in frustration.

“Do you want something?” the Medic cooed, poisonously sweet.

“Bloody- fuckin’-”

“Not good enough.” The German slowed his attentions to the Sniper’s prostate.

The Sniper growled, then panted, “Fuck. Me.”

“Why should I do anything for someone so rude?” The Medic raised himself on his knees to press his erection against the Sniper’s thigh.

“Please!” The Sniper roared. “Please, fuck me!”

“How I love it when you beg.” The Medic removed his hands from the other man’s body. “Roll on your back, so I can fuck you like the whore you are.”

The Sniper rolled over, glaring as he spread his legs. “Give it to me.”

“Patience,” the Medic leered as he slicked a thick grease onto his cock. “I want you to be able to take it for hours.” He shoved the Sniper’s knees up to his chest, and positioned the tip of his cock at the other man’s ass.

“Now, Doctor, now...”

Trembling with the effort of restraining himself, the Medic slid in slowly. He thrust shallowly at first, though the Sniper clawed at the Medic’s shoulders and wrapped his legs around the German’s waist to pull him deeper. “Ngh- bloody Hellfire, yes.”

The Medic snarled and bit the Sniper heavily on the shoulder. Rolling his hips, the Sniper lured the Medic further in. The marksman threw his head back as the Medic’s cock slid past that perfect point inside him, and moaned for more.

“Yes-” the Medic hissed, and pressed himself against the Sniper’s lean body. Lying full-length atop the other man, he thrust as deeply as he could. His eyes rolled back in his head, and a drop of sweat fell from his forelock to the Sniper’s shoulder.

Tightening his legs around the Medic’s waist, the Australian rolled him like he was wrestling a crocodile. The enraged German thrashed underneath him, just like a croc, as well. The Sniper knew what to do about that, though. He grabbed a pillow and pushed it over the Medic’s face with both hands.

The Medic bucked with doubled strength, and the Sniper howled as the German’s cock drove deeper inside him. Fighting for breath, the Medic clawed at the Sniper’s forearms, adding fresh red welts to the old scars. The pain made the hunter’s pulse pound harder still. He laughed, a long, low, wicked sound, as the man below him kicked spasmodically.

The Sniper kept the pillow in place as the Medic’s struggles reached their frenzied peak. Smothering a man to death was a nasty business - his arms were starting to look like raw meat. When the Medic’s body arched convulsively, supported only by his shoulders and heels, the Sniper whipped the pillow away and threw it into the corner of the room.

The Medic’s orgasm was explosive. His first deep breath came out again as a scream, and his fingers dug into the Sniper’s hips as he forced the taller man further down onto his cock.

Every pain the Medic had inflicted on him - shoulder, arms, hips, ass - burned in the Sniper’s soul. He grabbed his dick, jacking it mercilessly. He screamed hoarsely as he came, spurt after spurt of jism landing on the Medic’s face.

Wrung out, the Sniper dropped across the Medic’s body, sprawling over him in the rumpled bed. “Holy dooley,” he panted.

“Ja,” the Medic agreed.

“You all right, mate?”

“Never better,” the Medic smiled, then turned his attention to the gouges in the Sniper’s arms. “Are you?”

“Nothing the Medigun won’t fix.”

“I shall get it at once.” The Medic tried to struggle upright, only to be pinned in place by his lover.

“Nah, you won’t.”