So, uh… Knightspendid wanted some Spy/Sniper with top!Spy and consensual roughness and lots of smooching and I absolutely loved reading her phone sex fic (http://tinyurl.com/cfhwm7z), so I asked if I could make a continuation and so this is it. ::::: “… if I saw you…I’d strip down, yeah, then kneel on the ground right in front of you, and then I’d let you do whatever the hell you wanted to me.†“My next job is in Sydney.†It was an unprofessional urge. So terribly, woefully, intimately unprofessional that the Spy thought he might be going insane. The receiver was quiet for an infinite moment. Spy carefully took a drag on his post-orgasm cigarette and slipped down further on his stained sheets. He almost thought that the other man had hung up before he caught a breath from the other end. “It will…†he tried to recover it, tried to… tried to make it like he hadn’t been offering that. “It will make the long-distance less of a drain on my funds.†It never had been, and this never an option. He should have just called him from the hotel and teased him with the information. I’m in the same country as you… I’m closer than ever before and there’s nothing you can do about it, petit. I could stride in and you wouldn’t even know… I could come up behind you at your desk and bind you to the chair before mounting your hips and— “Which hotel?†It was a dry croak, and it only served to make Spy feel even more dismal at his slip up. “Are you quite sure?†He asked, his cigarette long forgotten and almost down to the filter between his fingers. There was another pause, and Spy took a shallow, slow breath that the other wouldn’t be able to hear. He couldn’t betray his own nervousness to the Sniper. He was the confident one. He was the one that garnered the control. “Bloody hell, Spy.†He could hear the creak of Sniper leaning back in his chair and licked his lips at the thought of the other man being so frustrated. He was probably grimacing, scrubbing his hand through his dishelved hair, and still with his pants down about his knees. Suddenly, he spoke again, “If I have to track you down myself…†the threat in the rough growl made Spy’s spent cock jerk. “Mon dieu…†Perhaps all was not lost. “Don’t you bloody well tell me something like that and then ask—“ “Meet me at the opera house at 6 o’clock.†He said, his hand shaking on the receiver. “Loosen your hold on your phone… you might break it.†He murmured, knowing the other man far better than he ought to. He heard a soft, relieved, desperate laugh break through the thick silence on the other end. “Six o’clock…?†“In eight days…†“Yeah?†“Wear your uniform.†He smirked and heard a soft curse on the other end of the phone. “I will be in my suit… you may not touch me until we arrive at the room.†He heard a sharp inhale on the other end, and then hung up the phone before the Sniper could say anything more. Lighting another cigarette, Spy slid down his bed and closed his eyes as he let out a long, slow breath. Dear God, this was a wonderfully horrible idea. ::::: He didn’t call again. The Sniper was reliable, as most professionals were, and Spy was sure that he would be there without his needing to reaffirm their plans. At four o’clock, he set out to complete his objective—stealing the layout of a smuggling operation from the curator’s office. It was simple, quick, and he soon had the plans locked away in his own room. His accommodations were not impressive, so he felt the need to secure his own at a less... well, dumpy place. His employer would also likely have his provided hotel watched, which wouldn’t be a good environment to bring his guest into—especially for what they were doing. He chose a tall, modern place just a few blocks from the building that they would meet at. He stood casually in the rabble of suited men awaiting dates or getting a bit of fresh air before the show. He blended in perfectly, a hat tipped over a bland face in the thick of a crowd, dressed in an impeccable three-piece suit with black leather gloves on his hands. He looked nonchalant, unenthused to be there, but his eyes roved the people approaching the place. Men in suits, women in gaudy dresses, and children in their Sunday best out to be cultured… The sun was setting, and the Spy checked his watch carefully. A few minutes yet—and then he saw him. The word that popped into his mind first was rangy, but it wasn’t a bad thing. Tall, well built, tanned and with a scar on his cheek. His hair shined and looked awkward in the part he had combed into it. No, it was most likely more at home beneath a hat, or slightly mussed with the click of a tongue when it wouldn’t mind itself. His shirt was tucked in, and his slacks were just as tight as Spy had always imagined them to be. The Sniper turned to face the street, perhaps looking for him fruitlessly, and Spy felt himself weaken at the pull of the black fabric against the curve of his ass. He waited until precisely six o’clock to approach him, flicking his cigarette into a waste bin and moving silently through the small crowd still present. “Monsieur,†he breathed, honestly surprised that he could keep his voice steady at all. To his satisfaction, the Sniper jumped, if only slightly, and when he turned, he saw that the man’s eyes were the most lovely shade of grey. “E-evening…†Sniper stuttered out, and Spy smiled at him, allowing his eyes to give the Aussie a teasing once-over as he merely stood there, allowing the moment to seep in. “This is your last chance,†his eyes combed the Sniper, and he changed his favorite nickname for the man from petit, “mon loup…“ The Sniper smiled at him, and it was crooked and attractive and altogether a wonderful thing to be able to see and not to assume. He leaned closer, but was careful not to touch, as he had been instructed. “You like it dirty, don’t you? Well this is about as filthy as it gets.†Indeed it was. Spy shivered and began walking away from the theater, toward the hotel he had his second room in. It was such a wonderfully dirty thing to meet the Sniper like this, to defy their moral codes of professionalism for something so simple as a fuck. Not for each other. No, that could never be it. His stomach buzzed with contention, and Sniper’s long strides brought him level with the Spy. They walked in silence, never touching or even looking at each other. Spy wanted to race for the elevator as soon as they hit the lobby, and the ride up— private, alone and in such a confined space that he fancied he could feel the Sniper’s warmth against his arm, smell his musk and taste him on the air—was torture. He was careful not to fumble with his key when they reached the door, opening it slowly because that’s what a calm, collected sort of man would do in this situation. He allowed Sniper to enter the room first, and he turned to lock the door carefully behind them. When he straightened and turned, there was scarcely an inch between himself and Sniper’s stubbled chin. “How are you?†Spy found himself asking, his tongue felt heavy and sloppy as he asked the question. “Fine I guess.†Sniper’s voice was different from how it sounded on the phone, it was gruff and beautiful and still held a bit of the danger and filth from his comment before. The man was much better with people in person than he was over a phone line. “And you?†“Curious.†Spy told him, reaching up to trace the man’s arm with the leather tips of his gloves. “Now that I’m here… and you are also here…†He flicked his eyes up from Sniper’s slightly crooked teeth to the insurmountable mystery that lay within his gaze. “What would you like to do to me?†He thought it was sufficiently teasing and clever to ask. “Well…†Sniper scooted forward, and Spy glanced down to see that he was wearing boots, scuffed, old, and clashing with his pressed pants and shirt, the neat knot of his tie. They fit him perfectly while everything else seemed to clash with the roughness of him, and the feral intensity with which his eyes raked over— “I guess I’d like to kiss you. First off.†Spy felt his stomach flop over and arms captured him before he could back away. It wasn’t what he’d said, rather, it was how he’d said it—like it was something important, something that needed to be done. Kissing wasn’t needed for sex. When he looked back up at the man’s face, he looked… scared? unsure? surprised? It wasn’t a question he had thought to ask on the phone, mostly because it wasn’t his business, and he didn’t want to know. “You have still never tasted a man?†He felt an emotion rush through him; it wasn’t something like satisfaction or anticipation, though. It was much deeper and more sinister. The feeling intensified to elation when the Sniper shook his head and then awkwardly nodded. “No, yeah…†He affirmed, ducking his head and loosening his arms around Spy. The Spy finally brought his own arms up around the other man, one to press against the small of his back, and the other to guide his lips to meet his own via his stubbled, scarred cheek. Emotion welled within him, and it struck Spy once again with how wrong it was. However, once he felt chapped lips carefully pressing against his and tasted coffee and recent, cheap cigarette smoke, he stopped thinking about how he shouldn't feel, and how much he should care that this first, rusty kiss was making something gentler than lusting heat roil through him. He let his breath out slowly, and when Sniper’s tongue carefully nudged between his slack lips, he met it with his own and scooted closer to the Sniper, pressing against the heat of his body and enjoying the unfamiliar taste of another. Sniper sighed softly, and Spy felt his warm, strong arms tighten around his waist and back, pulling him more firmly against the man of his passions and fantasies. If he ever got off to anyone else in the past months, it was rare and most likely a seduction related to work. Spy enjoyed the kiss far more than he ought to have, and the searing warmth he felt even through both layers of their clothing wasn’t helping matters at all. When he finally squirmed his hands between them to undo the buttons on his jacket, Sniper’s arms loosened, and he acted as if he might pull away from the kiss. Spy’s hands jumped of their own accord from his own jacket to pulling Sniper’s shirt back toward him and he pushed himself up on the balls of his feet to clear a bit of the height difference and intensify the kiss. Sniper’s arms resumed their hold, and Spy was finally satisfied enough to continue the removal of his clothes. He took care of the buttons on his vest as well, and loosened his own tie before finally and very reluctantly pulling away. He left Sniper gasping, and it stroked his ego far too nicely for him to stay away from the bushman for long. He wasn’t desperate, though, he chided himself, and he carefully crossed to the closet to hang up half of his suit like a civilized man. He glanced at Sniper, and the intense heat in his gaze coupled with the fact that he was willing to stand there and wait for the Spy made his heart race. As he strode back to the tall, lanky Aussie, he felt like a pursuing predator. “How do I taste?†He asked, raising his hand to stroke the simple red tie, cupping it and following its path from Sniper’s neck all the way down his chest to just above his navel. He allowed his knuckles to lightly brush the man’s shirt, and he knew that the taut Aussie could feel the trail like a brand. It was written all over his face. He raised his hand for another pass and Sniper’s gaze burned into his with all the desires and need that they had built between them in the past months. The courage to believe that this was really happening, that he was actually with another man was still dawning somewhere in the back of his mind, but the fact that they had been here before—through the phone—almost a dozen times helped him cope. “Would you like to taste me again?†Spy whispered, fiddling with the red strip of woven cotton and silk. Though the other man was stronger and taller and needier than him, he held the power here, just as he always had. It was intoxicating. “God, yes…†Sniper’s voice was little more than a growl, and it jerked right down to Spy’s groin. He didn’t wait any longer, and their lips met again, harsh and hard and deliciously needy as he gripped and pulled hard on the tie around the Aussie’s neck. There was absolutely no hesitance this time, just the sucking, biting urge to devour one another, to breathe their breath and enjoy what was withheld throughout the past few months of their—purely carnal—relationship. To touch and taste, and feel how much he wanted this man. Spy’s voice was rough when he pulled back from Sniper, and he had to clear his throat of the other man in order for anything sensible and English to come out. “How long will you stay?†Sniper’s lips hadn’t taken long to amuse themselves with the Spy’s jaw and neck, a hand creeping up to work at the top few buttons of his shirt so that he could slip his strong, slick tongue over Spy’s skin and press long, desperate kisses against his thrumming pulse and bobbing Adam’s Apple. “Until you tell me to leave… until you leave… until I can’t take you anymore…†Sniper shrugged and sucked a mark onto the sensitive flesh right beneath his ear. Spy felt his knees weaken, and finally mustered the strength to push Sniper away. So many nights spent writhing on a hotel bed with his knees crooked and his hand on his cock, bound by the words of this man moaning and gasping and growling into his ear left him with desperate temptation. They were all dangerous sentiments. He didn’t want the Sniper to leave—wouldn’t want him to after having his way with him either. He leaned up to press a soft, chaste kiss to the other man’s lips, and pushed more firmly against his chest when he licked Spy’s retreating lips. “Please… Sniper…†the other man opened his mouth as if to tell him his real name, and the Spy slapped his hand over his mouth. “No, no… no, cher, that is not a good idea.†The Sniper looked hurt, and Spy removed his hand to kiss his lips. None of this was a good idea. “Now, now do not look at me like that. We have tonight…†he felt a sad smirk tug at his lips and kissed his way over to Sniper’s ear. “What will you do with me?†he whispered, and he felt the other man’s firm chest hitch against his. Strong hands gripped his limbs and hips and Spy thought that the Sniper was going to shove him against the wall, take advantage of the physical difference and roughly fuck him until the moon began to set. Instead, he stepped back and loosened his tie, slowly, almost teasingly. It hit the floor before he started on the buttons of his shirt. His pants clung to his hips even after his belt clinked to the floor, and they still didn’t fall when he unbuttoned them and just let them hang for an infinite moment while Spy watched, his heart pounding hard and fast in his chest. Thick hair trailed down from his navel, and Spy was delighted to see his zipper part to show more of the same. A moan welled up in his chest. “You really don’t wear underwear…†He took a step forward as Sniper toed off his boots and shimmied his pants down. The other man left them carelessly on the floor, nothing like what the Spy had done, carefully hanging his jacket, vest and tie. The dim light reflected against scars, horrible, beautiful things that curved and sliced and sat as bullet-sized holes against his darkly tanned skin. He didn’t move again until the Sniper ran a hand through his hair, mussing it more than Spy’s fingers already had, and stepped forward to kneel before him. Spy stared down at the Sniper. This big, lean, delicious piece of Australian was everything he’d imagined, everything he'd been lead to believe—uncut, scarred, tanned, wiley, deceptively awkward and quick to adapt. He was also staring up at Spy like all he wanted was the man’s cock in his mouth. “What do you want from me… petit?†He asked, licking his lips and taking a step forward. The other man was already half hard, and his fingertips stroked against his own hips and thighs as he waited for Spy to come closer. “Whatever the hell you want to do to me.†The Sniper replied, his voice less of a growl and more of a desperate plea. The fact that the other man was willing to put himself in such a powerless position, to bare himself and debase his professionalism, to be whatever Spy needed even at the cost of his own values and needs… Spy was suddenly aware of how horrifyingly constricting his pants were, and he crept closer to the Sniper, his polished shoes soundless against the plush carpet digging into the other man’s knees. “Open my pants… and suck my cock.†Spy told him, swallowing slowly and feeling a new level of discomfort as his cock gave a hot, needy throb from within its confines. Sniper’s thick fingers were clever and quick, and made short work of the Spy’s belt and the button on his pants. The pressure from the other side of the zipper made it a little difficult to tug it down, but once he got it started, Spy was bulging out of his pants, his underwear doing little to restrain his needy length. Sniper looked unsure again, but it was only for an instant before he pressed his face against Spy’s underwear clothed cock, nuzzling and mouthing at it through the thin, torturous cotton. An uncouth whine escaped Spy, and he rested a hand on Sniper’s hair when the man finally trailed his hands up the backs of his thighs and gripped his ass before pulling his underwear down resolutely. His cock sprang free, and Sniper’s lips kissed it, sucking on the tip briefly before he took more into his mouth and drew himself slowly back off. Spy’s hand gripped Sniper’s hair and the next time the man suckled his way off his cock to lay a panting kiss against the leaking head, he looked up at Spy and winked. “You can pull it if you want.†Sniper suggested, and Spy stared at him as his hand came up to run the rough, calloused pad of his thumb along the side of it while his lips kissed and the tip of his tongue teased at the slit and head, allowing the other to stare dumbly at him. “My hair…†he clarified when Spy stayed mute and motionless. He carefully took Spy back into his mouth and began bobbing again. Spy’s hand suddenly tightened in Sniper’s short, tousled locks, and the man gave a harsh pull, dragging Sniper’s head forward and his mouth farther up his hard, hot length—farther than the Sniper had been delving before. Sniper’s hands gripped Spy’s hips, but he didn’t pull all the way back, just allowed himself to give the underside of Spy’s cock the barest of friction with his tongue. Spy moaned, and drew the Sniper back off of him by his hair, wrenching slightly when the other man attempted to return the aching, throbbing mess to his mouth. “I do not want to come now.†Spy gritted out, and he let go of the Sniper’s hair to shove him back on the floor. His head hit the carpet, and the Sniper smirked up at Spy as he kicked his shoes and slacks to the side. “Come whenever you like, love.†Sniper’s voice was husky, and his eyes were dark from need. They had talked about this, so the Sniper knew what to expect. Spy had warned him that it would hurt, and then it would feel strange and wonderful at the same time. Spy pulled off one of his gloves with his teeth, and Sniper groaned at the sight, his knees raised and parted slightly, as he wasn’t sure what was to come yet. When Spy began sucking on his index finger, and then added his middle, Sniper’s chest hitched again, and he spread his legs more, anticipation and uncertainty and lust playing across his features like a poorly plotted movie. Spy’s fingers emerged slick and wet, and he reached forward to pull Sniper back up so that he could kiss him again. He tasted the salt of himself on the man’s tongue, and his forefinger began pressing into Sniper’s ass as he sucked on his tongue, reveling in the combined taste of himself and his lover. He felt the Sniper flinch at the pain, and Spy kissed him more fervently, his tongue twisting and dipping, reveling in the other’s mouth like a second home. The Sniper sucked weakly on his tongue, his attention focused more toward the discomfort in his ass than the skilled tongue working against his own. Spy pulled back slowly and pressed gentle, reverent kisses to Sniper’s lips, cheek and jaw. “All will be fine, petit…†He whispered, and his voice was rough from lack of attention to his own cock and the knowledge that the Sniper beneath him was wilting against his hip. He stroked his other hand from where it had settled on the Aussie’s shoulder down his chest and stomach to curl around his cock and give it long, slow pulls. Sniper let out a soft noise, and grimaced beneath him. Spy knew that the combination of the strange stretch and the pleasure of having a hand on his cock was probably confusing him, and he slipped his second finger in impatiently as he took his own cock in his hand with Sniper’s. He began jerking them both off together, hoping to overshadow the momentary discomfort with the pleasure of hot flesh against flesh. He kissed him again as well, all part of the same distraction, he told himself. He wasn’t beginning to adore the taste of the Aussie that lingered on his tongue every time he withdrew from his mouth. That would be stupid and too close for comfort. The Sniper reacted to his kiss this time, and his tongue traced Spy’s lips and flicked against the roof of his mouth, trying to aid in the distraction as Sniper’s hips finally bucked up against Spy’s stiff cock. “You are quite bad at multi-tasking…†Spy simpered when Sniper pulled away to suck at his lips and kiss his way down from his lips to his neck again. “Shhh…†Sniper bit lightly at his skin, and Spy’s hips thrusted roughly against Sniper’s cock. The man chuckled beneath Spy, and he clenched his eyes when he felt teeth scrape along his throat to nibble on his jugular. The Spy started thrusting again, and that’s when the Sniper decided to bite him so hard that he was surely leaving dimpled marks behind on the Spy’s skin. The thought made Spy’s hand twist inside the Sniper’s ass, unheeded by the amused hunter until Spy brushed against a bundle of nerves that made his cock jump and his hips snap up into the Spy’s cock and hand. “Bloody fuck.†The Sniper hissed, and he felt the hand leave his ass to come up and twine in his hair. Spy wrenched his head back, and pressed soft kisses down his jaw, across his throat, and then gave his collarbone a vicious bite that wrung a soft whimper out of the other man. His cock hardened even as he thrusted up against Spy’s own leaking cock and the hand around them both smeared their precum across their heads, making a mixture of the stuff. Spy’s hand left their cocks, though Sniper’s hips still twitched up against his stomach, and occasionally ground their cocks trapped between them. Spy slipped his fingers into Sniper’s mouth, three at a time, and allowed him to nibble the tips before he swabbed around, agitating the man’s saliva glands to collect his spit. He withdrew his fingers from the Sniper’s mouth, dripping with slaver and leaned back to coat himself as thoroughly as he could with it. He huffed in agitation and spat in his hand to add his own to his insufficiently lubed cock before positioning himself and spreading Sniper’s ass cheeks to press in. He groaned at the tight heat, and the Sniper beneath him bit his lip and made an uncomfortable noise. Spy wrapped his hand around Sniper’s cock to help him keep it up despite the discomfort, and he leaned up to kiss him again, slowly, sensually, allowing his tongue and teeth to play with the man’s mouth and drawing lovely little noises from him. It didn’t take much for the Sniper’s ass to adjust to Spy, and even once he stopped making uncomfortable little, “unhâ€s, the Spy continued kissing him, swallowing his gasps for air, and setting a deliberate pace until he could find the Sniper’s prostate again. When he did, the moan that rattled through him from Sniper’s mouth sent a shock through him that hitched his balls and made his stomach flip. He withdrew his hand from Sniper’s hair and moved his hand from his cock to his hips so that he could properly grip him. Then, he started fucking him senseless. The Sniper couldn’t breathe at first, with the intense stimulation robbing his lungs of all power, and the little gasps he made into the Spy’s mouth weren’t giving him the sufficient air he needed to moan and curse and bask in the Spy’s cock abusing him over and over again. “Oh baby…†Sniper croaked once he’d gotten his breath somewhat back. Spy gave him a particularly rough thrust, and left the Sniper seeing stars and once again robbed of speech. “Oui, mon cher?†Spy asked innocently before rolling his hips up into the Sniper again and getting a desperate grunt from him in return. He chuckled and continued to roll his hips as his lips returned to Sniper’s, kissing and suckling and occasionally giving the man the consideration of oxygen. When Sniper came, it was a messy affair that left a slick slide between their bodies, and his hands gripped hard at Spy, bruising his shoulder and his hip, desperate for something to keep him grounded because he no doubt felt like he was about to fall off the edge of a non-existent cliff. Spy knew he was going to have marks tomorrow. He was going to have bruises from fingertips and teeth and greedy, desperate lips. He came with a few more thrusts, and Sniper arched beneath him, his stomach heaving, and his cock bouncing limply against his messy, smeared stomach. They lay there for several moments, catching their breath and enjoying the warmth of another body. When Sniper finally had enough of his mind back, he said, softly, “wanna shower or get up on the bed?†“Mon dieu, I don’t think I can even move…†Spy admitted reluctantly, his muscles strained to their limits and his mind drained from having held back until his partner came first. No, not partner. Not lover, not— Sniper shifted beneath him, and he felt come drip from his cock onto the carpet as he slipped from the other man’s ass. Sniper stood unsteadily, and Spy slipped off of him, rolling onto his back with the reluctant groan of someone perfectly content on staying right where they are until morning. Sniper left him there, wobbling to the bathroom and leaving the door open so that Spy could watch his ass as he turned the tub on. Steam rose from the large porcelain basin, and the Sniper returned to Spy, scooping him up and grunting as he straightened. Spy wrapped his arms around Sniper’s neck, and, despite his contention about what they really were to each other, he couldn’t resist pressing a kiss to the Sniper’s stubbled cheek. Sniper pressed a lingering smooch to the Spy’s lips, light, innocent and more than a little possessive, Spy thought. Sniper lowered him into the steaming water, and the Frenchman winced at the heat of the water at first, but then relaxed into the warmth with a sigh. The Sniper took the other side of the tub, sitting across from the Spy as they soaked silently in the still-filling tub. He reached over to turn the water off once it was an inch beneath the rim, and Spy watched silently as his long legs stretched out beneath the clear water between his own. He brushed his toe against Sniper’s thigh, and flashed the man a quick smile when his eyes snapped open from reveling. “I am glad that you came.†“Me too, love.†Sniper smiled and raised his hand to blow Spy a kiss across the tub. “Me too.â€