>>4 I don't know about best, but I do end up writing it a lot, haha. >>6 God, this would be a great take on Pyro. S/he's always shy or bubbly. Pyro as a power-hungry dominant would just be fun to read. By the by, guys, this part takes place before the first one. POV has changed and I finally get to write my actual OTP. Yay. ::::: It’s hard to deny the body what it wants. Especially if what it wants is a slip of a boy in baseball pants a size too large and scuffed sneakers. He knocks twice before silently waiting for my answer. My privacy curtain is drawn back, and I can see his feet in the shadow beneath the door from where I lounge in my chair. He doesn’t dance and fidget like he used to—I’ve trained him too well for that. “Allez-y…†I say, just loud enough that he can hear it. The door opens, and Scout smirks at me a fraction too late when he sees the curtain isn’t hiding him. “Bonjour, Frenchie.†He runs a hand through his still-damp hair and closes the door behind him with the other. There is hesitation as he glances at his hanger dangling from the knob, and then his eyes are back on me—asking what I want of him. Good boy, but the words lodge in my throat. There can be only one thing that he would want to hide from me. “You’ve been with the bushman.†I tell him, tilting my head to the side and resting my cheek on my fist, attempting to look the picture of boredom while, inside, I’m seething. You were with the bushman without my permission. “Yeah…†He doesn’t bother lying. He knows it will only make things worse for him, after all. “Why?†I sigh heavily, pinching the bridge of my nose and closing my eyes. I want him so badly. We hadn’t had a chance to see each other throughout the week, and I am needy. Thinking about him in the dark is no proper substitute for being inside the object of my lust or for having the control and power that he gives me every time we fuck. I straighten back up, crossing my legs and pursing my lips, pushing him for the answer he hasn’t yet given me. “I… Sometimes I just want a lay, okay?†He sounds defensive, and his arms jerk as if he would like to cross them, but he keeps the habit in check. He knows that in here, it will only harm him. “Mmm… and why do you feel guilty for it?†His eyes snap away from my shoes to meet my own. They’re such a lovely shade of blue. They seem paler when he’s in the throes of ecstasy. Though his eyes moved, he stays silent and still. A feat that wouldn’t have been possible a year ago. It has taken us so long to get to this point. There have been so many hours of wasted lovemaking to get him to this level of obedience. There were times when our passions got the best of us, and he requested punishment by trying to take control, or speaking out of turn. I have only to remember that he will still come back to me and it is enough to finish me in his absence—after he has been collected by respawn. “Why must we continue this game? You know that I dislike sharing my toys.†There’s a hint of anger at last that I cannot bite back, and his eyes flinch, but he doesn’t break our gaze. He bites his lip and gives a miniscule shrug. I allow silence to pervade and I continue watching him. His posture doesn’t indicate regret, though he does feel guilt. It makes me angrier. “Get out.†I tell him, flicking my hand and turning my gaze onto the bookshelf to my left. Or seeming to. Why does he make me do this to myself? “But… Spy! c’mon, I’m sorry. I hadn’t seen you around in days, and you said—“ “Scout.†I put as much force into the title as I can and keep my eyes from turning to him. If I see the pain I’m causing or how close he has brought himself to me, I don’t think I will be able to refuse him. I must, though. My carpet is thick, but in the ensuing silence, it is possible to hear his light footsteps as he retreats to the door. He will not go to Sniper again, not tonight, anyway, and that somehow satisfies me. His feet echo in the concrete hallway beyond my door, and I wait until he pauses to open and enter his room before standing. It is time to pay the bushman a visit again. I am fully vested in my suit and mask when I exit my room, and the trip out to the pitiful little van that the Australian chooses to live in instead of an actual room takes far less time than it normally would. I knock on his door and politely wait for a reply. If I simply barge in, he will run me through with his Kukri. “Who is it?†His voice is gruff, and I consider the fact that I might have awoken him. Good. “Hey, man, it’s me.†I match Scout’s tenor and his atrocious accent effortlessly. It’s something that I had gotten quite good at while pleasuring myself in our earlier months. At that time, he was lucky to get a proper fuck out of me every few weeks. He couldn’t adhere to my rules, was always pushing and pushing until I finally gave up and killed him or braced my arm against his windpipe to get him to behave. “Scout,†there’s more affection in that single word than I can bear, and I’m scowling openly when he opens the door, his pants half-undone, and his work shirt gone. “Oh… bloody hell, Spy!†He tries to shut the door, but I slam my fist against it and mount the rusty stairs to his abode. He backs up and his hands rise in front of him. “Listen, mate… he told me he’s supposed to ask permission, but it’s not my fault if he doesn’t.†His nose wrinkles at the mention of Scout having to ask my permission to screw him, and I smirk in response. “Well, he usually does.†I tell him, glancing around his seedy little camper and wondering how on earth Scout can fuck the lanky Australian in such conditions. Things must get broken every time. “You’re joking.†Sniper snorts and scratches his side through his undershirt as he relaxes minutely and comes closer. He has finally realized that I am not here to kill him this time. Just to talk, as I said. “I’m not. He knows the consequences, and he has accepted them.†I make sure that Sniper’s eyes catch the truth in mine. “However, I’m afraid that those consequences have left me in a bit of a predicament.†I shift to lean back against his rickety table and cross my arms casually. “I cannot have sex with Scout for a minimum of forty-eight hours again, and I blame you for it, Bushman.†My face is anything but amused, but a smirk pulls at the left side of his mouth. It would be endearing in a lover’s eyes, perhaps. I, however, would like to punch him for cheapening my pain. “Glad to be of service.†The smirk turns into a sneer, and he motions to the door. “Allow me to show you to the door. Don’t want you getting lost on your way out.†“I did not come here to merely tell you that you have inconvenienced me.†I hiss, standing and taking a step forward involuntarily. Oh, how I would love to harm this man. “Oh really?†He snorts and looks down his nose at me. “Why don’t you forbid ‘im from seeing me altogether? Afraid it’ll spark even more rebellion?†I raise a brow and step closer to the Australian, we’re the same height without his boots, and I stare him hard in the eye. “Because I am having too much fun being the Mistress that stole him from you in the first place.†It doesn’t make him flinch like I’d intended, but Sniper’s top lip rises in a snarl, showing his freakish canines. “Get out of my home, Spook.†“No.†His hands rise to fist in my suit and I draw my knife quickly. It’s at his throat before he can wrinkle my jacket too badly. “I don’t want to kill you, Bushman. I merely want retribution for what has been taken from me.†I hiss, shifting closer and allowing the edge of my razor sharp blade to skim his neck. “It’s your own twisted rules that are getting the jump on you, Spook.†Sniper stretches his neck and attempts to pull back from the edge of my knife as a thin rivulet of blood makes its lazy way down the lines of his neck to the hollow of his throat. “Not my rules; not my problem.†“It becomes your problem when you act as an accessory to breaking one of them.†I gently add pressure, following him as he arcs himself against the “kitchen†counter. “He wouldn’t keep coming to you if my job were less demanding.†He’s musky, and it’s a pleasant scent, not sour at all with unwashed sweat. “You can keep telling yourself that, Spook.†His hands loosen from gripping my suit, as if he thinks that might appease me. When I press still further, his palms catch my shoulders and he shoves me back against the table, grappling with me in an attempt to lock my right arm. “Must we…†I allow my knife to drop and slip out of an elbow lock. I bring a punishing knee up to his ribcage angrily before continuing, “…always resort to theatrics when you give into Scout so easily?†I ask, using the brief repast of his wheezing to angle my knee into his side again. I try to avoid cracking anything, but I do want to bruise. “I bet he can’t even find your sweet spot.†I sneer and push him away from me. He slumps against the wall for a moment, catching his breath. “I like getting fucked by the rascal just fine.†His reply is choked and a half-wheeze. “But it’s not as good as it could be, is it?†I give him a smug smirk and watch him attempt to act tough while straightening with the cabinet as a support. “You give him what I will not… he will give me everything should I ask for it.†I begin stepping forward and lean in again. He attempts to fend me off, but I catch and lock his right wrist with my left hand. “What shall I give you?†Silence, aside from his heavy breathing. “Your lover back? A proper fuck perhaps?†I smirk and give his wrist a wrench, teasing the threshold of breaking it. “God save the Queen, you’re a dramatic ponce.†He chuckles and I seal my mouth over his. I jerk away when he bites my invading tongue. He tastes like coffee with an undercurrent of beer and cigarettes. It’s not wholly unappealing. I relax my grip on his wrist and nudge myself between his legs. “Sit on your little counter, Bushman.†I order him, locking his wrist once again when he attempts to stop me from unzipping his pants. I tut at him and put that last little edge of pressure on it that makes him wince and clench his jaw. “Stop giving me such resistance, I’m doing you a favor.†He’s pliable, simple, easy. Much like Scout, he just wants someone willing to take control from him. Unfortunately for him, Scout is of the same ilk, and cannot stay away from me now that he has found someone who can give him what he wants. His pants fall once I finish pulling down the zipper, and he lifts one leg out before hopping up on the counter. “Bloody broken wrist is too much trouble to go through to avoid whatever the fuck you’ve got up your sleeve,†he grunts when I smirk at his obedience. “Oh, yes…†I pull his wrist up next to my ear and release it, brushing my lips tenderly along the inside of his forearm. “I will certainly not respawn you if you force me to break it.†I pull his other arm up to rest on my other shoulder before pulling my gloves off and resting my warm hands on his thighs. “I might take out your ankle before I leave as well… if you are going to behave badly.†“I’ll mind my manners, Spook.†He hates this, and as I stroke his thighs and occasionally brush my wrist against his swelling cock, his eyes flare with such resentment that I press a chaste kiss to his lips. “Good… good…†I retrieve a tube of lubricant from my pocket and set it on the counter next to his hip before beginning to stroke his thighs again. “You seem to be enjoying the attention… doesn’t Scout touch you?†I ask, knowing that he wouldn’t. He doesn’t know the meaning of foreplay, really. We’re still working on that lesson. “He touches me how I want him to.†There’s a defensive edge to his voice, and now that I’ve irritated the topic, I allow it to sit in his mind and speak of it no more. My hands slip down to cup the backs of his knees, and I tug his calves forward to wrap his legs around my waist. “Slip forward more… that’s it…†I scoop up the lubricant and apply some to my fingers before slipping my hand between his balls and the counter and pushing at the tight ring of muscles with my slick middle finger. His legs tighten around my middle, and he leans his head back against the grotesquely colored cabinets with his eyes closed. I wrench a noise from him when I force a second finger in, and grin maliciously when his eyes open and roll down to glare at me. “What? You think I am a patient man?†I wiggle my fingers in and out and lean forward to suckle on his neck while I attempt to control myself. I’m always lecturing Scout, but when the time comes for me to exercise restraint, I’m no better than him. “Ah… Spook…†It’s a guttural grunt, but I find I like it more than a breathless gasp that I might have gotten from Scout. I scissor my fingers again and watch his pronounced Adam’s apple slide up and then back down. When I lean forward to nuzzle against the lump and press a soft kiss just below it, he bucks and growls at me, “stop trying to turn this into lovey-shit, Spy. This is a fuck and it’s going to—†I place my lips around his Adam’s apple and run my tongue over it with a gentle suck to make my point. He doesn’t say a word until I slip a third finger in and tug him forward a little more to adjust his angle. Even then, it’s little more than a soft, “bloody ‘ell.†I say I have no restraint, but I do enjoy taking my time with my preparations. It’s always such a rush to know that my fingers are the sole cause for this erratic breathing, and the barest of pulses that I can feel while a third of my hand is pumping in and out of another man’s ass makes my heart race. It’s a prelude to a glorious night. Sniper stretches well, and it’s too soon that I will have to replace my fingers in that inviting warmth with my cock. He makes a noise far too embarrassing for any man of the bush to admit to, and when he gives me a desperate look because of it, I wink at him and hold a shimmering finger to my lips. “Our secret…†I purr, undoing my belt and pants. I slip my underwear down with my slacks and my hand takes up the lube from its place on the counter again. “As will this be.†I give myself a few pumps before coating myself in lubricant and shifting us so that I can better access him. His head is below the cabinets now when he leans back, and I have his ass almost off of the counter. My thumb traces a vein from his tip to his base before I roughly thrust into him. He grunts, but it’s with more than a little satisfaction, so I take a grip on his hips and begin a steady pace, carefully working my way into him. Despite our differences, I am a thorough lover. He arches as I find his prostate, and I grin at him when he looks at me with desperate eyes. I’m going to ruin sex with Scout for Sniper. He was merely satisfied with the stretch of his ass and a hand job before—because that’s the entire scope of Scout’s skill. Now, he will ache for the rhythmic pulse of ecstasy every time he’s with my Scout; he will ache for something Scout will never be able to give him. He will be dissatisfied but unable to talk about it, because admitting to Scout that he has had sex with me will only cheapen everything he has said to Scout about the boy’s relationship with me being a “bloody dramatic farce.†I increase my tempo, and my hands wander up Sniper’s torso, climbing beneath the undershirt and tracing two of his larger scars. A man who can fell man-eaters and monsters is letting me fuck him. Before, I had only been able to entice a blowjob or two out of the man, with promises that I might be less harsh with Scout (I stipulated through using “might†that I wasn’t going to hold up my end. He was just too eager to perform to question it.). He gasps and pants beneath me, and I trail a hand back down his chest and stomach to circle his cock. I’m close, so very close, but I want him to come first. It will only seal my victory and make my culmination that much sweeter. I barely have to touch him before he’s spurting across his stomach and bunched up shirt. My cock throbs and I thrust harder, drinking in the sight of him, tanned and wild and splayed under me. His large hands aren’t around my neck anymore, but rather gripping the top cabinets like a lifeline. He runs out, and the look on his face brings me to a crescendo that I cannot keep silent. I groan in the back of my throat when I come, and my hands scrabble at his sweat slicked skin before gripping and holding onto his shirt as I ride it out inside him, a new slickness easing my movements and pooling out to drip down along the cabinets. We are both still for one infinite moment. Breathing in the heady scent of sex and musk and sweat, we are for once at peace with each other.