1 . Name: Millia @ 2011-09-20 15:24

"Routines" was originally written in 2009, by grey_museum. This fanfiction is very well-written and Spy/Spy is a very rare pairing (and somebody requested it a few days ago), so I thought of reposting it.

Sadly, the fic is unfinished. I don't know if grey_museum is still hanging around the Chan, and the fic is over two years old anyway, so I doubt it will ever be continued. Even so, I think it is well-worth reading.



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From the sleeping quarters to the mess hall, from the hall to the shower, from the shower back to the quarters, I could feel my movements becoming predictable again and abruptly doubled back to the stairs I had just passed. As I climbed I chided myself for slipping into routine once more. Routines were dangerous things that suited obvious men, not men such as myself. Forgetting that fact in wartime had proven to be an embarrassing mistake, both professionally and-- for further reasons.

I continued soundlessly down the hallway, past empty storage rooms to an alcove facing away from RED base and any wakeful snipers. The large window here had not seen use in some time, but I managed to finesse it open quietly. My reward was the cool, welcome breeze hitting my face as I leaned out the sill. Insects droned as the last vestiges of daylight bled slowly away to night. Lighting up and taking a deep drag, I allowed myself to relax for the first time that evening.

"Very good, Spy, you 'ave picked zee perfect spot." I started violently, swearing under my breath as I felt the sharp edge of a knife come to rest between my shoulder blades. The pressure of two thighs against the back of my own further stilled me. I had no time to regain my composure before the cigarette was deftly plucked from my mouth. A moment later a puff of warm smoke drifted by my ear.

"I do so love yours. HQ only issues the shit kind," he continued in the French of my hometown. Unfailingly, the rough, almost Spanish trill of his words sent shocks of memories through me-- the steady blip of a radio transmission, listening intently to made up stories, filthy jokes hidden in encrypted beeps, grinning and clacking out my own replies as I cultivated my natural talent for code-- a narrow backstreet, salt air and humidity so thick I could almost taste the tang of spattered blood, a cut throat seeping red through grooves of cobblestones on the day I determined that taking a life held no revulsion for me--

It infuriated me, the power the spy's voice had. "Zen barter when zee supply trucks come in like I do," I hissed, then followed his lead. "Be self sufficient." Hiding myself behind another language was inviting, but I hoped that my French would affect him the same way.

"Why would I do that when you lay everything I could want in front of me so temptingly?” The spy exhaled another puff. “But look, I forget myself. I am behaving rudely for a guest." He held the cigarette against my mouth to offer me a draw and I complied, angry at his fingers on my lips, but mindful of the knife. He enjoyed my cigarette a minute longer before tossing it. I tracked the lit end downward until it bounced against the concrete outside, a tiny speck. Too far a drop to make safely in one go and no obvious handholds nearby.

A first floor window shone dimly, but I balked at the idea of calling for help if the bastard's guard lowered. Oh yes, excusez-moi Sniper-- I was fairly sure it was Sniper's window-- I was just being molested by zee RED spy. Ha ha, 'e sure got me good. Yes, it seems to be a common occurrence zeese days. Zank goodneess you saved me! No, that would not do, not ever. What a marvelous follow up that would be to our last regrettable conversation. Fucking HELL. Here I was, being toyed with yet again in my own base with no explanation, no sign he'd soon tire of this, my shame as strong an escape deterrent as the blade. I understood sowing unrest among the enemy as much as anyone in my vocation, but this was too much, too much, too personal. Shit, how would I--

A slow caress on my thigh interrupted my thoughts. I steeled myself as I felt the spy's free hand snake up past the windowsill to work at my belt, which he loosened efficiently. Several more tugs and my trousers and shorts were in a heap at my ankles. I heard a low, pleased murmur behind me and the distinctive sound of a zipper shot a tremor of apprehension through my body. My face was flushed. I could feel each throb of my heart acutely-- shit, shit, keep your composure, don't let him notice--

“Dear me, this haste is the sign of a desperate man.” I said, stalling. “Could it be there's no one at the RED base who will let you touch them? Did you scare all your teammates off by being the creepy fuck that you are?”

“Nothing that entertaining, I'm sorry to say! I just have this certain preference for discretion, and what better than a proud, tight-lipped spy who I can be assured won't breathe a word of this to either team.” He said it with a fondness that made my skin crawl. “You must see what I mean.”

“Discretion. I think that only means you don't want them to know how bad a lay you are.”

“Haha. To be fair, I haven't exactly been concerned with reciprocation. Now do not distract me.” The spy brought the knife smoothly down the length of my back, then slid it back up underneath what remained of my clothing. I was almost grateful for the jab of cold metal, helping me focus on something that wasn't him. My jacket and waistcoat were next to be maneuvered off and I was left standing in my shirtsleeves, balaclava untouched. Another small consolation, though it offered little protection from the stare I felt on my naked legs and ass.

I suppressed a shiver as a gust of night air teased up past the edges of my shirt. Being exposed this way before him-- it was vile. A pair of gloved fingers lingered briefly on my collarbone before hooking my tie and pulling it loose.

"You say your cruel things, but I barely had to touch you last time before you were wanting me and struggling terribly not to show it.” Tie in hand, he traced my breastbone downwards through the shirt fabric. “Since I'm a 'bad lay' I guess you must be the desperate one. Can you be honest enough with yourself now to admit you might be looking forward to this?"

"Yes. In the same way I've eagerly awaited Medic hurrying the fuck up and gouging the shrapnel out of my flesh-- So I could get straight to forgetting such unpleasantries ever occurred."

"You are thankless!" he scolded and turned his attention back to my tie, using it to bind my hands firmly, only then relaxing his grip on the knife. I twisted at the knot, testing it, though I might well not have bothered. "Perhaps understanding your situation fully will make you more grateful," he said, giving me a shove.

Oh god, wha-- My stomach lurched as my center of gravity shifted precariously-- in another second I would skid out the window headfirst. I panicked, wrenching at my bonds and jerking backwards with as much force as I could muster. The spy leaned forward and chuckled as I pressed my body desperately against his, earning an accidental knife slice on the small of my back. He gave me another push, this time holding my legs in place with his own. I clenched my teeth and pulled myself up again, rocking against his hips in the process.

"Stop screwing around! Just get this done with!" I growled, my heart beating furiously. Craning my neck, I could just see him slipping his right glove off to suck on his fingers. He motioned for me to spread my legs a bit more and without hesitation slid two of them into me straightaway.

“I was only waiting to hear you to say it,” he said as I gaped. He had caught me off guard, but it was slick enough that it wasn't terribly uncomfortable. The spy worked his fingers around, stretching me, moving in and out in a torturously slow almost-rhythm. After a few unsettling seconds, he spat on his palm and gave himself several lazy strokes, spreading the moisture. He paused to regard my frame positioned beneath his-- gloating, he had to be-- then with no warning entered me as far as he could with one clean thrust--

Christ! I went tense at the shock, but forced my muscles to relax as he pushed in a little more. Dampness welled in my eyes and I blinked it away. “Hnn... Stand a bit higher, on your toes.” I straightened, unsteady, wishing my arms were free to brace myself with. “Like that, perfect. Absolutely perfect.” The spy sighed quietly against my back and then began to move.

His thrusts were careless, sometimes hitting me just right, sometimes not. It was enough to keep me utterly hard though and I focused on the dim horizon, biting my lip and trying not to make my pleasure so obvious. This was apparently being too distant for the other spy's taste and he clutched my face tightly to pant into my ear, "I know you're thinking of me, yes?"

"Actually... I was thinking of Sniper," I breathed back perversely, hoping to get a reaction.

“Ahh, your infatuation. You probably knew he'd turn you down--” A pause to catch his breath. “--But the rejection must have stung nevertheless.” I froze. How did he know this? “The nerve you had to tease about MY teammates.”

"RED needs to keep you busier," I grunted, trying to hide my unease at being so thoroughly observed. He ignored this comment in favor of changing his angle slightly and I ground my teeth fiercely to stifle what would have been a humiliating moan. The sounds slipping through were bad enough. I prayed he wouldn't remember this later.

It was taking my utmost control not to lose myself in the flood of sensation: the searing strain of muscle as I trembled on the balls of my feet, the insistent, unremitting build of pleasure as the spy drove himself into me over and over, the gooseflesh where the chill air met the sweat on my body, the startlingly hot breath on my neck. It somehow felt good, all of it. The butterfly knife bounced against me softly, leaving thin lines where it broke skin.

"Please, Spy, don't be too upset. You have me and I am not a jealous lover. You have my permission to pretend he's fucking you now." Yes. I closed my eyes and thought of Sniper in earnest, but the illusion was too flimsy to maintain when all around me was the smell of cloth imbued with cigarette smoke and the now familiar scent of the spy's body, slick with perspiration. "Ohh, you are much too good..." How could I be expected to think of anyone else with his voice, heavy with exertion and lust, murmuring French with that accent into my ear? "Mmm, these visits with you keep me going. You are my favorite divertissement..."

He was definitely getting close, pounding into me with no regard now. I fought with myself not to fuck it all and meet him violently blow for blow, concentrating instead on keeping my body still. Each thrust was pushing me forward a little farther and I tensed sharply in fear as I began to slide out the window once more.

"SPY. SPYSPYSPY I'M FALLING, YOU FFF--" A hard slam levered me back to the inside of the sill, back onto that hard cock and I moaned softly as the spy gasped and pumped against me, riding out his orgasm.

I bore the spy's weight in silence as I waited for him to recover. I needed to get away from him, away from the window as quickly as possible, and at my eventual movement he pulled out, exhaling long and slow like a sigh. There was the hint of a tremor in his breath.

"Untie me." The spy stared in my direction with unseeing eyes, then at last appeared to consider something.

"If you want, I could..." he trailed off, motioning at my erection.

"No. Just go."

"As you say." The knot behind my back loosened and I brought my hands around to rub where the tight bonds had pinched. I weighed going for my own knife after regaining some feeling, but rejected this line of thought. The disadvantage was too great. By now the spy had gotten his clothing in order, and his full attention was back on me. “Thank you for being so patient.” I scowled as he handed me my fallen coat. “And thank you also for the unparalleled hospitality. Keep yourself well for me, BLU Spy.” He inclined his head, a grating smile the last thing I saw before he turned and activated his cloak mid stride. Faint plumes of smoke indicated his direction down the hallway.

I held perfectly still for several heartbeats before sinking to the floor, not bothering to get dressed. Nerves and the lingering numbness in my wrists caused me to fumble clumsily at my cigarette case. Merciful Christ, he'd better have truly gone. Once, twice, on the third try the lighter worked and I wrung such a lungful of smoke from the cigarette that I nearly gagged. Quickly, I made a tight fist around myself and pumped hard. God, I needed some release.

Sniper... Yes, I could think of him now, his lips coming down around my cock, tongue swirling forceful wet circles around and around. His face was lean in that sexy way, his chin rough... It was an effective image and my breathing was ragged now, but I found my thoughts straying and then there was the spy with his ever-present knife and devious stare looking up at me instead. I remembered the first time he ambushed me, the burn of shame and outrage when he said he wouldn't kill me, and what a better idea he had... But I didn't want to be dead-- it was better to be fucked by a rival spy than be dead, of course.

Yes, it was better this way. Much better to have him surprising me in the showers like the second time and running his hands over my body however he pleased, over the bullet scar on my thigh, the thin skin on my hipbones, up the tense muscles of my chest. Seeing me without my mask. Calling me a handsome thing.

I had never seen his entire face and didn't care to, but I knew his features well enough to picture him sucking me off eagerly now. I thumbed the head of my penis and shivered. He had offered... He had offered something this time. The third time. Well, who knew precisely how he'd have gotten me off, but I would not have accepted regardless. At yet here I was, fucking hypocrite, jerking away, getting so turned on at the thought of what he could do, had done.

I could not allow myself to sink so far. I'd been doing a shitty job of spying lately, but if I disguised myself as him, slit a few throats over at the RED base-- screams stifled by leather gloves, eyes shocked wide with betrayal-- it would be truly satisfying. Ahhh...! He was not so much better than me, it was just the element of surprise, and if I were in their base, the tables could be turned. If he could be had, on my terms-- His mouth being used instead of mine. There would be no shame in that, right? It would just be well deserved comeuppance, not some kind of sick lust for your tormentor. Mmmn, I could almost convince myself of that. And his lips... would feel... so... nice... !!!!


My cigarette was used all the way down to the filter so I stamped it out. My suit I smoothed the best I could after donning it stiffly, and I shut that godforsaken window. The night air held no peace for me now. I followed the stairs back down to my bed, where I lay quiet but awake, willing my pulse to steady and soothing myself with thoughts of what satisfaction I would wring from the REDs tomorrow.


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War was mostly wait and the trick was not to let the long stretches of quiet unhinge you, or your nerves wouldn't hold when it really mattered. I had been on edge far too much lately to ignore this truth. Pressing my eyes shut, I turned to lean a temple against the gratifyingly cool wall of my room. I lounged this way a while, crosswise on my bed, listening to the percussion of rain on concrete and steel. It was a relaxing sound, and so rare in the desert.

For all the sophistication of the BLU base, it amused me to note a leak had sprung just a meter from where I rested-- not all of the complex's inhabitants had the advantage of a second floor above their heads. Slow drops plinked a counterpoint to the rain as they fell in the tin mug I had scrounged from the kitchen. I glanced at the cup's water level, but it was nothing to be concerned with just yet.

Cartridges lay strewn across my bed, and I soon resumed my task of gun maintenance, grabbing several at a time to refill the speedloaders for my revolver. I had made fine use of them in RED's base yesterday.

A soldier had been the first casualty of my excursion, offed the way I had wanted: deliberately and with time enough to savor the experience. “Your trust-- while flattering-- was sadly misplaced,” I told him at knifepoint, wearing the mask of my enemy. His face at that moment had been worth the inconvenience of battle in this remote station.

It seemed in my excitement that my grip had not been quite firm enough over his mouth, for his dying throes attracted a bit of unwanted attention. My fast reloading saved my life when their scout (also deceased) came upon the scene, and in a stroke of luck he had been transporting a sheaf of classified documents that would be of the highest interest to Headquarters. I knew, having flipped through them myself. Officially my excursion was a success.

Privately I was more than a little frustrated.

Immediately upon infiltration, I slipped down the straightest route to what I knew were HIS quarters, my body wound tight in anticipatory thrill. When the path led to an empty bedroom even more austere than my own, the sight had been disheartening. My hope refused to die completely, but as corridor after corridor revealed no trace of the spy, I had to accept the truth of things. All of the other REDs could be accounted for. Where had he been? That he could find me so effortlessly, while I struggled to... no, best not to dwell on that point. Now I was forced to be patient and wait for the team's paranoia to subside before I could-- A few quick raps sounded on my door, jolting me from my thoughts.

“Oi, 's me. Mind if I come in?” a voice called out. Hmm, Sniper. Curious.

“Zee door's unlocked.” I had no illusion that the only person I truly wanted to keep out couldn't pick a simple lock in seconds.

"Doc said 'e saw you with my mug," Sniper said quietly as he took his first step inside. I turned this statement over in my mind until I realized what he was referring to.

"Zat's it on zee floor." I gestured in the direction of the leak, then affected disinterest. Any interaction between the two of us had been rather... strained since that day. It didn't stop me from stealing a glance as he knelt to take the cup, replacing it with my ashtray in what seemed an afterthought. Our eyes met as he stood and I broke the contact purposefully, hinting for him to take his leave.

When I didn't hear movement, I looked up expectantly at him. He stared back at me, expression unreadable. I breathed a deep sigh. "You are not only 'ere for your item, are you."

"Shit-- I'll get to the point,” he started. “The other day you caught me off guard, and well-- it's not like I'm some fag, mind you, just-- using my own hand's gettin' awfully tiresome..." his words trailed off as he waited for my reaction. Fuck. This was not what I had imagined by any stretch. Sniper figured he could just change his mind as he pleased? I couldn't help but be indignant.

“It's not a game for you, is it? Burning bridges only to take back your nasty words? You made it quite clear what you zought of my proposal, and you can 'ardly expect me to be flattered.”

“That was a knee-jerk reaction-- I'm afraid I didn't give you a fair go. Come on, don't make this harder for me than it is.” He took one step forward, then another, and the reality of the situation pressed in upon me. Sniper did look especially attractive, his smile on the sly side, his posture a little straighter than usual. I hadn't forgiven the grief he'd given me, but hell if I would allow my pride to screw me out of this after wanting him for so long.

"Right... what exactly do you feel comfortable doing?"

“God, I don't know. Just touch me, get me off. Your hands. Your mouth, maybe. I'll... do the same for you.” My pulse quickened at his words. Sniper was close enough now to pull down next to me and he let me do so with no resistance, the cup dropping from his grasp, our legs tangling as our bodies met. He made to roll on top, but I pushed a hip into his and steered him onto his back instead.

“Nnnhh. So forceful.” I insinuated my hand past his belt to discover he was slightly hard already.

“You seemed to like it,” I said, enjoying the feeling of him beneath me very much as well

“Guess there's no hidin' that.” Sniper's arms slid around to clutch first at my back and then lower still. He murmured a vague protest into my ear as I removed my hand to trail a line along his sides with my fingers. When I shifted my weight, he arched up into me and we gasped simultaneously as our erections pressed together. Damn! Suddenly I wanted more contact, less constraint, more bare skin...

I swallowed, contenting myself with Sniper's shirt for now, my thumb grazing a nipple (another gasp) as I hiked it up past his chest. He helped pull it the rest of the way off and returned the favor by starting on the buttons of mine, his progress hindered when I replaced my hand and began teasing him with slow, painstaking strokes. The pace served my own ends. Maybe Sniper had expected a quick lay, but I would take my time and leave him craving my touch. He would come to me again or feel my absence keenly.

At last Sniper finished with my shirt, his mouth open slightly from my efforts. I shrugged it off as he ran his fingers underneath the back of my balaclava and up through my hair. Oh fuck... The feeling was uncommonly sensual and it was my turn to be distracted. My breath was quick when I lifted the aviators from Sniper's face to admire his eyes, pale blue and strikingly intense. I smiled as I slid my lips along his jaw, touching the skin lightly with my tongue, and he pulled away at the sensation to study me.

"Too gay for you?" I taunted.

"No, it was... nice."

"I can do it more."

"Please."

I placed my lips on his skin again, breathing in. The sniper's scent was strangely neutral. I was expecting the weathered smell of things exposed to wind and sun for days on end, but this was pleasant enough, I supposed. Sniper was being remarkably cooperative, and that was good too.

I ran my mouth from his cheekbone to the base of his neck, where I halted abruptly. A sharp frisson of menace ran through me, the same feeling I'd gotten on the field countless times before a pyro-trapped hallway or the moment an engineer's back was about to turn. Experience had taught me never to ignore it. As my mind ran through the possibilities, I traced the path again with my hand, scrutinizing the details. My blood ran cold. Oh yes. There it was. A thin, nearly invisible gap of air between where my finger touched skin and the “sniper's” face actually appeared. I felt myself recoiling. This deception-- the ignored signs, so unmistakable-- I had deluded myself...

"Somethin' wrong, Spy?" the other man asked, freeing himself the rest of the way.

Fear gave way to surety within the span of a second.

"No," I answered, my course of action becoming unequivocally plain to me. Nothing was wrong. That much was absolutely true. Agitation had clouded my mind in my other encounters with the spy, but now that I held the advantage, there was only an intense clarity. Forcing his hand would be the first step.

“'Ere is what you are going to do,” I began, my voice patient and level. “You are going to put your mouth to use right now, get me all nice and slick. Zen you are going to lean back and spread zose fine legs for me... Sniper.” The spy pursed his lips at my words, looking thoughtful.

“Funny, I was beginnin' to have similar plans for you.”

“Oh? Zen do you 'ave any complaints if we leave it to chance?” I asked, moving for my hidden knife, my excitement building. The spy grinned.

“Not at all, mate. But I insist on my lucky coin for this,” he said, his hand inching toward his own pocket. In an instant I reversed my arm and smashed him solidly across his face with my fist. He raised his head, false countenance twisted into a grimace. I was gratified to see a trickle of blood running from his nose to his lip.

The spy had apparently not learned his lesson as he made a second go for his blade; I intercepted the man's wrists easily and crushed them until he hissed in pain. It would be all too appropriate to restrain him with my knife I felt, but the situation ultimately required a little more control. I went for the revolver on my bedside table and quelled any unspoken protests as I steadied it firmly at his head.


-------------


The man was at my mercy and he knew it. True, his glare seemed defiant enough, but I was familiar with this front, intimately so. How must it feel for him, the reversal of fortune? I could appreciate the small signs: the tension in his posture, the clenched fist, the way he worried at his bottom lip with his tongue, now biting it slightly. He brought a hand up to dab at the blood from my strike, then dropped it, unsure of what movements I might see as threatening. Quick eyes scanned my face, searching for some change of expression, some sign of his fate. This cowed demeanor was just-- my god, it was exhilarating, but we'd stayed frozen in place long enough.

Rougher than necessary, I divested the spy of his knife and wristwatch. No gun, I noted as I slid the two objects along the floor and out of reach. “It will be nice to have spares,” I said. The spy considered this, his mouth forming a grim smile that left as soon as I moved again for my own knife. I sent it sliding to join the collection-- the less to concern myself with, the better. All I needed was my revolver, which the man now seemed transfixed by.

“Put your mind at ease.” I said in our native tongue. “Blood on my suit is bad enough. I won't go making a mess of my room, not unless I have to.” A clean shot was a waste as well, too quick of an end for a thing worth drawing out. “I'd much rather continue where we left off. As I won our 'coin toss,' I believe you were to kneel there on the floor and... mmm, I think you'd best get on with it.” The other spy forced out a laugh.

“I suppose I deserve this--”

“Yes,” I snapped, giving him a shove. Yes. Yes, he did.

The spy got to the floor after that with no further comment; the rain must have stopped at some point, leaving only the sounds of his movement. I placed one leg on either side of him, attentive as he went to his knees and freed my cock from my pants. He leaned in, a guarded look on his face. It wasn't taking much to make me quite hard again-- just the sight of his freshly bitten lips would have been enough. It really was a wonderful mouth, the Sniper's...

After a moment's hesitation he took me in his hand, flicking his tongue out and pressing it slowly to my skin. Then he licked. Oh, it was good. So good, a hot, wet pressure trailing up my entire length from the base to the tip... Holy mother of god... How long had it been since I'd allowed myself enjoyment that wasn't by my own hand? The feeling was intense beyond any recollection of the act.

As the pleasure subsided, I became aware of curious eyes fixed on mine, intent on my reaction. That stare... No-- NO, this was NOT for his benefit. “Spy,” I hissed. “Concentrate on the task at hand.”

“Your accent--” he said without warning, “I can't tell you how nostalgic it makes me. When we're speaking together this way, it's as if there's no base, no fighting, no teammates, just us...” An unpleasant revelation, but I wouldn't allow him to unnerve me. I could see what he was trying to accomplish. More insight gained at a steep cost.

At my lack of reaction, he changed his tactics. “Really, I might just do this out of fondness for you. No gun would be necessary...” He added, giving my revolver a sidelong glance. Pathetically obvious. “You would like to see your Sniper kneeling here, compliant?”

“The gun stays,” I said, forcing it into his shoulder, feeling half-mad from the delay. “Keep going.” The spy let out the breath he had been holding; the sensation on me was warm and tantalizing.

At last he took me fully into his mouth and began to suck. Lightly at first, but soon the press of his tongue became forceful, the suction stronger. I rested one hand on the back of his head and curled my fingers into his hair, pushing downward. It felt short, like the real sniper's, and I wondered if it had been cut just to deceive me. The spy gave a start when I hit the back of his throat, but got the hint, taking in as much as he could on successive bobs.

My other hand gripped my revolver, the thought of his powerlessness as exciting as his attentions to me. What a terrible man I'd become, and more terrible still for finding amusement in that fact. Ohh... but it was his fault, really. I would never have entertained something like this with any seriousness before he-- did what he did, and I couldn't find it in myself to feel bad in any way. Not now especially. Shit... He was very talented... I didn't want to finish now, but mmmm-- I really did need to stop him...

A hand on the small of my back jerked me to my senses. Thin knife cuts from that night in front of the window stung as he traced the lines with a delicate touch-- soft, gloveless fingers bringing with them a sense of revulsion so strong that I pushed him off of me. “Enough!”

The spy pulled back, catching his breath. “What, you don't like it?” Genuine surprise showed in his voice. “I thought I was doing well.”

“That's not it.” I said, calming a bit. ”No, you're a natural-born cocksucker.”

“Well... Knowing how you are with compliments, I'll take what I can,” he said, licking the taste from his lips. ”I hope you're beginning to appreciate me, BLU Spy. You might think it vain to say, but in some ways I truly am irreplaceable.” He looked up suddenly. “Let me finish, please.” The lightness of his tone stunned me until I realized exactly how desperate he must be to get me off before this could go further.

“I don't think so.”

He sat quietly for the span of a few seconds. “So then. How do we do this?”

“Undress completely. Then come back to the bed.” He nodded and started on his boots. For a man who made a living on his deftness, his progress was slow.

“You were at our base yesterday,” the spy said, ridding himself of the first one.

Well. So I had been. Was this another attempt at distraction? I found myself honestly curious about what he might say.

“You were there looking for me?” We both knew the answer to this already. I made no reply as the spy tugged off the other boot. “Killing my teammates was indelicate,” he started again with a shake of his head. “I've passed up many opportunities with yours, you know. I've seen them at their most vulnerable.”

So he had some self control. A shame he didn't exercise it more. The RED spy began to slide the trousers from his hips, drawing my attention back to his false form.

“Did you actually think your sniper would go for you?” Again with this useless talk! I opened my mouth to silence him, but the spy persisted. “He seems quite content handling things on his own. Want to know how he moans when he gets himself off? I've heard it.” I thought of the Cloak and Dagger I'd taken from the man and realized-- with a twinge of jealousy-- just how plausible his words were.

"Pay attention to what I'm doing right now-- you think I care? This--" I motioned at the spy's body, "Is just as good. Better even. Did you think I wanted him for his cunning mind?"

"Ah, poor Sniper. So this is an ideal situation for you, then. You have his body and my cunning mind."

"Not what I meant. And you're not so clever that I didn't catch you. Just when did you intend to make yourself known?" The spy looked taken aback for a second, then there was a hint of something else... smugness?

“I wasn't. Not until you said what you did.”

For the first time since taking control, I faltered. If I hadn't realized-- kissed him-- on the mouth... whispered kind words to him, gotten him off-- I thought I had known the worst he could do, but this was an even grosser violation. He wasn't a sadist, he was something-- far beyond that, something-- diseased. A moment too late I saw his intent. The quirk of his mouth told me he knew he succeeded. Sly bastard! A surge of anger grew in me and I raised my gun at his face.

The smile vanished, but it wasn't enough. “Stand up,” I barked. He did so. “Strip.” He tugged off his underwear and socks with a haste delightful compared with earlier. I pulled myself the rest of the way onto the bed and laid back, propping a pillow between my head and the wall so I could see all of him. It was almost the same position I'd been in when he'd first entered the room. Now I was shirtless and my pants were partway down my thighs, but it was easy to feel in control with his nakedness and my revolver, which I used to gesture the spy down to the bed with me.

I looked at him, making sure I had all of his attention. There was no question of that. “I want you to get yourself ready and then fuck yourself on me,” I said, enjoying his expression as my words sunk in. “I don't want to have to do anything at all. Now...”