This one's for Iz, who I know has been waiting for anything to do with Spy and Sniper. Hopefully it'll live up to your expectations. :) Much obliged to Marty for giving it the thumbs-up. I'm still not totally happy with it, but eh, whatever - more porno for TF2Chan! -------------------------------------- EPILOGUE: WHAT ABOUT SPY AND SNIPER? Spy could be as stealthy as a cat when he needed to be. He waited just around the corner of the hall, watching Heavy as he tried to close his now-broken door. It was a little voyeuristic, staying here to see what he would do, but Spy had to know that he hadn't just thrown his best friend's heart to the wolves. His gut instinct said that he was right, that Sniper had been truthful, but he was still a Spy - if anything, he needed to be sure. The big Russian just stood there, staring at the door handle. Spy willed him to start walking. Come on, he thought, you can do this. Medic needs you. I don't care if you're - He was afraid, he realized. Heavy, the impervious and largely unstoppable killing machine, was afraid. Spy shook his head in disbelief. It was still odd to think of him as being so real and human, and yet there he was, his face a mask of worry and fear. He seemed to be deep in thought. Spy was almost ready to go back and shove him when Heavy finally moved. He turned and walked off in the direction of Medic's room, leaving the door ajar. Spy leaned back on the wall, breathing a deep sigh of relief and feeling exceptionally pleased that he had at least done all he could. It would be up to the Doctor now whether things worked themselves out or not. His throat clenched painfully, and Spy quickly put both hands over his mouth to stifle his coughing. He had to pray that Heavy had not heard him – he let his cloak drop and left as quickly as he could, not trusting himself to run while he couldn't breathe well. Still, he swiftly brightened up. There was still something left of the night, and he could relate the whole event to Sniper. Spy felt a surge of guilt that he was still thinking about getting laid – he and Medic now owed the bushman an enormous debt, and although he seemed more amenable to Spy's advances now, it would be rude to keep coming on to him so much. His painfully sore throat wasn't helping his libido either. Tonight, perhaps, he would simply enjoy his company, and steal a few touches and maybe a kiss on his way back to his own room. There would be plenty of time later to advance the idea of a little mutual pleasure. He tucked his balaclava back into his pocket. There didn't seem to be much point in putting it back on, and he couldn't bear anything around the bruised skin of his neck. Spy was a little nervous when he approached Sniper's door again. He couldn't be asleep yet – it had only been a few minutes, if anything. He knocked, and was gratified to hear a muffled but still alert voice inside. He put on his best smile, and quickly slipped inside. Unfortunately, the witty line he had planned to say simply died on his tongue. Sniper had left the wine on the table, along with the glasses. He was stretched out on his bed, resting comfortably with his aviators pushed up onto his forehead and one leg bent at the knee. He had been reading his little book of poetry when Spy entered, and now he looked up at him with a challenge in his eyes and a smile of amusement on his lips. The only light was the bedside lamp, and it made his skin glow. He was naked. Very, very, naked. All six foot something of his lean body, just lying there and projecting the kind of sexual aura that he could sense from across the room; fine, tanned skin, well-defined muscles, hair in all the right places. Spy could see the quintessential treasure trail of fine black strands that started at his bellybutton and disappeared between his legs. He was miraculously free of scars, too – the only one that Spy could see was the broken line across his cheek and nose. He felt a familiar tingle in his groin, and took a step forward, licking his lips unconsciously. Sniper quickly snapped the book shut, and raised one cautionary finger. “Not another inch, mate. Not if you don't want me to kick ya out.†He dropped the book to the floor and lifted his sunglasses off his head. He folded them up, and tapped them on his chin thoughtfully before placing them on his bedside table. “Ya can't come over here while you're still wearing clothes.†Spy's hands flew to the buttons of his jacket, and again, Sniper stopped him. “Now, now. No rush, eh? Do it slowly.†His voice drew out the word in a long, sensual drawl. Ah. This was a game. Spy smiled; he was good at games. When was the last time he had done a striptease, he wondered? The most memorable was certainly that incident in Vienna... Never mind, he thought. Keep your mind on the job at hand. “You like to watch, Monsieur?†he said, as he began to play with his buttons again. Sniper smiled back at him, his eyes now dark and filled with desire. “Yeah, I do... I bet ya do too, don't ya, Spook? Bet you'd like to see something now.†“Maybe I do. What could you show me, bushman?†Sniper grinned evilly. He watched Spy's jacket slither to the floor with a hungry expression on his face. Then he slowly drew up his other knee, and let his legs fall open to reveal his rapidly-growing erection. As Spy started pull off one glove with his teeth, he turned his head into the pillow and began to play with one of his nipples. And Spy watched, almost forgetting to keep going on his own clothes. Every time he removed something, Sniper would touch himself somewhere new; the other glove fell to the floor, and he stroked his hip, the waistcoat was discarded and he sucked on one of his fingers. The noises he made were soft and appreciative, so utterly wanton that Spy found his self-control taxed to the limit. He let his legs slide up and down the bed, rubbing his skin on the coarse blanket, all while watching Spy in turn as the blush of arousal crept across his cheeks. ...This was not what he expected. Spy couldn't believe that it was possible for another man to do this to him without even touching him, but he was already achingly hard. He had imagined something more energetic, more desperate, than this slow, torturous game. He had imagined himself driving Sniper over the edge, making him beg, making him scream - Spy's shirt fell away, and Sniper reached down and traced one finger along the underside of his cock. His other hand played across his stomach and over his nipples again. The touch was ghost-like, but it twitched in response and Sniper lazily lifted his crotch a fraction, nothing but the tiniest thrust to tease them both. Spy lost the ability to speak or even think straight – it didn't matter what he had wanted, or imagined, or that his neck still hurt quite a bit. The lust filtering through his mind almost made him consider jerking himself off right then and there, if he was not allowed near the bed yet. Just a little longer, he thought. Just – oh merde, it felt so good to unzip his pants. He groaned, eyes clenched shut, no longer willing or even able to control himself. The brief sensation of his hand brushing across his groin was almost more than he could bear. Suddenly, it all became clear. Sniper wasn't getting off on him stripping – he was getting off on the effect he was having on the other man. Spy realized that he was being beaten at his own game, being toyed with as easily as he himself had done with other people. This shouldn't be happening!He was the suave, sophisticated , cultured Spy, the one that men and women alike had swooned over. He should be the one in charge here! He just needed to hold it together a few minutes longer. He glanced back at Sniper, but the lanky Australian wasn't even looking at him any more. He was looking down, watching the actions of his own body with curious amusement, playing with himself and sighing in pleasure. He took no notice of Spy's very obvious state of need, but Spy suspected that was just an act. He was still paying some vague attention out of the corner of his eye. Spy kicked off his shoes, and let his pants drop to his ankles. Sniper gave a hum of approval, and stroked himself a little more urgently. As Spy's hands drifted to his last article of clothing, his boxers, Sniper sucked his finger deeply again and slipped it down between his thighs. He moaned softly, and his buttocks suddenly clenched and slowly relaxed. He rested his feet flat on the bed and braced himself on his shoulders, his hips starting to rise and fall in a gentle rhythm as he fucked himself. Spy cracked. It was too much – he could either get over there and screw Sniper through the mattress, or he could soil his underwear right now. He struggled out of his boxers while hopping towards the bed, swearing under his breath, then fell on top of Sniper in a tangle of limbs. “You lose, Spook,†he chuckled, as Spy ground against him and whined for some kind of release. He lifted his ass, used his knees to draw Spy in close and caress his calves with his feet, whispered in his ear. “That means ya have to give me what I want, and tonight, I want ya to bugger me senseless.†Oh god, he couldn't say no to that. Spy sat up and hauled Sniper's legs up to rest on his shoulders. His hands were shaking and they didn't have nearly enough lubrication, but working himself into the other's body felt too agonizingly good to care. He bent him him double, and met almost no resistance – he did yoga, of course, the man could twist himself into a pretzel if he felt like it, and that meant that Spy could drive into him more deeply than he ever had into any other human being. It was so hot and tight that he knew he couldn't last more than a minute or two, so Spy decided to give it everything he had and pound his brains out. Sniper tucked his arms above his head, and let Spy do all the work. He close his eyes, biting his lip with a smile of victory as the thrusts pushed him back and forth on the bed. Spy almost wanted to slap that stupid smirk off his face, but he couldn't have stopped for the world at this point – all he could do was gasp and growl and swear, hands digging into the blankets and sweat dripping off his nose. For probably the first time, he just let himself go and did what his most base animal urges wanted him to do; to fuck someone else as hard as he could. A swift intake of breath was the only warning he had before Sniper came. His body clenched and shivered around Spy, and he suddenly threw his arms around his neck and pulled him in for a rough kiss. Spy hissed in pain and was ready to pull away, before his own orgasm rocketed through him and blotted out all sensation other than a pure, roaring wave of ecstasy. He rode it out as best he could, keeping up the pace as long as his legs would allow, and shoved his tongue down Sniper's throat. After the last few weak thrusts, Sniper let go and moved his hands to his shoulders instead. They didn't move, and didn't stop kissing. The taste of wine and strawberries still lingered in his mouth, and Spy wasn't quite ready to let it go just yet; it was sweet, oddly unique, and something that would always be connected to the Australian in his mind. Unusual and full of hidden depth, like the man himself... He slipped to one side, and Sniper made room for him. Various bodily fluids cooled on their bodies, and his skin prickled in the cold. He caught a handful of the blanket, and pull it up over them both. Sniper pulled him in close, and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. He seemed happy to stay as they were, for now. “I was not expecting that,†Spy said quietly. He really wanted a cigarette now. Sniper laughed. “The stripping thing? A ladyboy in Bangkok did it to me. Don't feel too bad, I didn't even get as far as my pants before we were going at it.†“No, I mean I was not expecting sex at all, bushman,†Spy said with some amusement. “You certainly came around faster than I had hoped.†He shrugged. “I just got a gut feeling about ya, Spook. I figured if you came back in one piece, you deserved something good.†“You were not worried that I would lie?†“Well... nah, not really. Not after ya nearly choked yourself when I told you about Heavy, and damn near ran out to go talk to him. Didn't feel like ya were lying then, so I figured, hey, he's probably not lying about him and Medic being together, so why not shag him?†Spy smiled. “Thank you,†he said, and he really meant it. This was turning into a remarkably good night, apart from the bruises around his throat. He touched them gingerly, and winced a little. Sniper pushed up his chin, looking at the ring of purple marks around his neck. “They hurt much?†“It could be worse. He was going to kill me.†Spy batted his hand away, and briefly wished that he could go to Medic for a little Medigun treatment. “That's probably one hell of a story.†“There is little to tell. I managed to convey to him that Medic loves him before he snapped my neck. He let me talk then, and he is going to the Doctor's room now as far as I know.†Sniper grinned, and started to rub Spy's shoulder contentedly. “Think it'll turn out alright?†“I hope so. I will find out in the morning, I suppose. Heavy does love him back, that much I am sure of.†Spy untangled himself and sat up, stretching out his arms. He looked down at Sniper and smiled warmly. “Thank you again for a lovely evening. I should probably get back to my own room now, assuming I can find all my clothes...†Sniper was staring at him in disbelief. “Are you seriously planning to leave?†“Well, yes, actually.†Spy scrubbed his hair in embarrassment. “We have had our fun, and I do not want to impose on you any further.†Sniper put one hand to his forehead and swore under his breath. “You stupid wanker... c'mere, yer going nowhere!†He grabbed Spy roughly and pulled him down again, this time keeping him captive against his chest. Spy couldn't bring himself to protest too much, even though this was somewhat out of character for him. He usually made his conquest and then left, reasoning that he could sleep better in a bed that he knew was secure, and they were usually happy to see him go. He hadn't actually slept beside someone in years. “This bed is really not made for more than one person, Monsieur,†he said, his voice rather muffled. “Tough, I like to cuddle after I get laid.†Sniper reached over and switched off the lamp, and the room went dark. “Ya leave when I say ya can. Now go to sleep.†Spy smiled to himself. This night had graduated from remarkably good to one of the best he had ever had.