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The phone in Spy's smoking room rang. "Oui?" he answered, with that tone of utter ennui only the French have ever been able to master.
"Hey, mate," Sniper's low growl tingled in his ear, sending a shiver up his spine.
Spy shivered, glad Sniper couldn't see his reaction to the Australian's voice. "What do you want? I am busy." He managed to keep the arousal out of his voice, sounding coolly distant.
"Doesn't look like it. Looks like you're smokin' and shiverin'," Sniper grinned, holding the phone to his ear with his shoulder, his hands too busy with his rifle. He was watching Spy through his scope, the eye of the rifle made him feel close to Spy, as if he could reach out and touch him.
"You...insufferable Australian! You dirty bushman!" Spy threw down his cigarette into the ashtray, using the movement to surreptitiously estimate potential lines of sight, trying to determine where Sniper could be watching from.
"That's me," he purred over the line, watching Spy through the windows. The Frenchman hadn't drawn the curtains, leaving him wide open for a shot. Not that Sniper was planning to shoot him, necessarily, but seeing him like this was fantastic. "Why don't you undress for me, pet?”
Damn that voice. Sniper’s low growl went straight to Spy’s groin, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Non. I am not playing your perverse game.” He put the phone on his desk but didn’t hang up. He ducked beneath the desk, then rolled out from under it, pressed tight to the wall and keeping low enough to be out of sight of the windows. He flicked the curtains closed, peeved at having to do something so obvious. Heart racing, he took a moment’s rest, leaning against the wall. He repeated this procedure with each of the room’s other windows, before standing and calmly walking back to the desk and picking up the phone. “Your move, mate.”
The sound came all at once, through the phone and into his smoking room. A bullet shattered through the wall, just above the middle window, taking down the curtain support and both curtains. “How’s that?” Sniper chuckled, enjoying his view of the fuming Frenchman.
Spy bit his glove to stifle a shriek, hurling himself beneath the desk, still clutching the phone. He’d been expecting the shot, but he’d been unable to predict exactly when it would happen. When he spoke, his voice was completely flat and level. “Was that really necessary? Those were my own personal curtains, not the asbestos-filled ones we are given. And you have made a mistake, mon ami—I now know where you are. All I have to do is…” He popped his head out from behind the desk for an instant to survey the room, making quick mental calculations, “walk over here, and you will not be able to track me.” Still carrying the phone and keeping low, he eased himself from beneath the desk until he was past the window. Once he was past it and safe, he purred into the phone, “Can you see me now, bushman?”
“Let’s find out,” he chuckled, taking another shot. This one was blind, but he had a good head for estimating where people were at this point.
“You missed me by a mile,” Spy scoffed, staring at the bullet hole right between his feet, hoping Sniper hadn’t heard his gasp. “And you will be paying for repairs.”
“It’ll be safer for you if you come out, mate,” Sniper smirked, “right now I might as well be playing battleships with you. Who knows, I could shoot you, I could miss…” he kept his rifle aimed near the same area, raising it slightly. “But if you come out and play by the rules, spook, then I promise nothing bad’ll happen to you.”
“Why should I trust you to play fairly, mmm? Though I would rather spare my furnishings—you just destroyed rather a lovely couch. Worth more than that dust-pit your family calls a farm.” Spy took a large step back and knelt, making a smaller target of himself.
“Would you rather trust me, or take a chance?” Another shot rang out, as blind as the last one.
Spy couldn’t stifle his cry as this bullet bit into the wooden floor right next to his knee. He barely had time to throw an arm across his face to protect his eyes from splinters. “Very well!” he conceded, when his ears had stopped ringing. “I will entertain your perverse fantasy. I should have known you’d be far too savage to enjoy a lover any way than through your scope.” With great dignity, Spy stood and, with only a moment’s hesitation, walked back into plain sight of the window, hands up to show they were empty—not that any of his weapons could have threatened the bushman at this distance.
“Lovely,” Sniper breathed into the receiver, “I wanna see you put on a little show for me, luv.”
“Rest assured,” Spy’s voice was a menacing purr, “I will seek retribution for this.” Very deliberately, he removed his suit jacket. Folding it neatly over his arm—he wasn’t going to ruin any clothing over this, not if he could help it—he draped it carefully over the back of his chair. Turning back to the window, he stood with arms akimbo and did a slow turn, letting Sniper see what he’d revealed. Spy looked good in his dress shirt and vest, and he knew it. Of course, with how much he’d paid his tailor, he had better look good in it. Trying not to let the fearful stiffness in his shoulders show, Spy struck a variety of poses.
Sniper chuckled, “Damn, mate, you’re not even showin’ any skin yet and you’ve already got me goin’. I expect I’m gonna see a bit more, though?” A small red dot appeared on Spy’s chest, wiggling back and forth. “Why don’t you undo some of those buttons?”
Spy shivered. The sight of that red dot had an astonishing effect on him, stiffening his cock and making his mouth go dry with fear. Defiantly, he undid the vest’s buttons all in a rush and shrugged out of it, leaving it pulled tight for just a moment, spreading his shoulders and expanding his chest with his arms nearly bound behind his back.
“Mmm,” came the coarse voice in his ear. “I love seein’ you like this, helpless and showin’ off for me.” The dot disappeared again. “Gorgeous little thing.”
Careful not to crease the fabric, Spy folded the vest and added it to the chair. “You are demented, bushman,” he growled, his words rather less believable given how tight his trousers were. He hoped his state of arousal wasn’t noticeable through the scope. He heaved a mostly-silent sigh of relief at the dot’s disappearance. “Oui, je sais.” Spy spun again, brushing imaginary motes of dust from his impeccable white shirt and fiddling with his mother-of-pearl cufflinks. Each movement was calculated to show off his lean body to perfection.
“You gonna give me more, or am I gonna have to beg?” Sniper’s cock was getting harder watching Spy display himself. He had to keep one hand on his rifle for balance, but the other strayed down to fondle himself through his pants with a low groan.
Spy smiled; Sniper’s voice more than gave away how aroused he was. “I would ask that you beg if I did not suspect you were the type to do let your gun do the talking for you.” He undid his dress shirt’s buttons, slowly, lingering over each hole with a smirk on his face and sidelong glances in the direction he estimated Sniper was watching from. Down to his undershirt, his thin, scarred arms were revealed, along with his surprisingly broad shoulders and trim waist. He traced a finger over his collarbone, following the slim white line of a scar he knew Sniper was especially fond of nibbling. “You could simply come down here and touch this. All of this.” His hand slid lower, so slowly, only to stop at his belt buckle and hover there, gloved thumb hooked in his belt.
“Mm, could I?” he purred. “You’d let me touch your pristine skin with my rough dirty hands?” he gave himself a squeeze, starting to feel uncomfortable in his clothes. “I think I’d rather see you like this, all alone, touchin’ yourself,” there was a bit of a gasp in his voice now.
“Non, you’re right, of course. If you were here now, I would never let you touch me with those filthy, cracked bushman’s hands. Gentlemen like myself do not voluntarily consort with men of your type. The only way you could ever have me is like this—from a distance, under threat of violence.” Spy rubbed a thumb across his nipple, making it go hard beneath the thin white cotton of his undershirt. He was so aroused, so vulnerable…his whole skin felt hot and oversensitive, waiting to be touched and wanting to be completely bare. Moving so he was standing on his Persian rug, Spy kicked off his shoes and bent to undo his sock garters—making sure he was facing away from Sniper, giving him a lovely view of his derriere. He could only hope the Australian wouldn’t choose to shoot him there.
“Maybe that’s the way I like it,” Sniper panted. He undid his belt and pants with one hand, pulling his erect cock out and starting to stroke himself. Spy wasn’t what Sniper would have said was his type, but watching him through his scope, there was nothing more erotic than the slim man undressing at his command. “More, mate, don’t keep the man with the rifle waiting,” he pressed.
Spy laughed, low and erotic. “Oui, an excellent point.” He removed his socks, showing off his slender, shapely feet, quickly followed by his sock garters. Both of these were tucked into his shoes, which he placed beneath the desk. After a moment’s feigned hesitation, he flicked his belt open and undid his trousers. He shimmied out of them, folding them neatly along the crease and draping them over the back of the chair with his other clothes. Hands on his hips, he glared up at Sniper, almost completely revealed, wearing only his mask, silk briefs and undershirt, his arousal perfectly on display in the well-tailored underwear.
“My little beauty,” Sniper murmured, voice husky and low. “I love seein’ you in your underthings, you know that, but I’m not in the mood to wait.”
“I had best hurry, then, before you decide to satisfy yourself another way. I’m not overly fond of penetration of that sort,” Spy replied smoothly. He hooked his thumbs through the waist of his underwear and pulled them down, revealing the surprisingly full curve of the top of his behind. He inched the briefs down, slowly, uncovering an inch at a time as he shook his hips from side to side to help them slide down.
Sniper’s strokes sped up, though he was careful not to jiggle the rifle too much. Spy could hear his breaths coming faster through the earpiece, the bushman nearly panting. “More,” he urged. The red dot flickered to life again and traced its way up and down Spy’s thighs.
Breathing heavily himself, Spy didn’t bother putting his briefs with the rest of his clothing. Almost tearing his undershirt off, Spy fell to all fours on the carpet, knees wide apart, bearing himself completely. His bobbed heavily between his legs, the tip just beginning to bead with moisture. He licked a long, thin finger, thoroughly coating it before reaching back and pressing it into himself with an exaggerated moan.
“Fuuuck,” Sniper moaned. Cursing wasn’t usually part of his vocabulary, but he could be convinced to make exceptions. “You have no idea how bloody gorgeous you look right now, luv. You’re lovely, perfect, nnnh…” he bit his lip, spitting into his palm before going back to rubbing his cock, more and more desperately. The red dot played over Spy’s hand, his cock, his tight, eager pucker; it was shaking slightly as Sniper’s rapid strokes started to effect his normally even aim.
Spy watched the dot explore his body, imagining he could feel it, feel Sniper’s fingers following the lines the laser traced. Then he was distracted as his finger slid in to the last knuckle. He wouldn’t be able to do much more than this without lube, but it would be more than enough to tease Sniper, and to keep him going until the damned bushman got down here and did him properly. He slowly fingered himself, moaning into the phone and putting on a good show for Sniper and that damned red beam.
“Bloody beautiful,” he growled, panting against the phone, cock leaking all over his fingers, his pants, the floor. “Spy, damn you,” he cursed, crying out as he came. The red light spasmed over Spy before turning off. “Ohh,” he sighed. “You don’t know what you do to me.”
“I have some idea,” Spy purred, gently easing his finger out and wiping it on a bandana—one of Sniper’s. “Now get down here and finish what you have begun.”
“Ohh, mate, you ask the impossible,” Sniper laughed. “Anyway, I didn’t say I was done…” he focused in on his scope again, holding his breath as Spy’s head came into view. “Meet you at respawn,” he murmured, pulling the trigger. The sheer release of a clean headshot sent him into ecstasy, laying back on his crate, phone slipping from his shoulder, gun cradled on top of him, cock limp against his hip. He felt like he was glowing and he relished in it for a few long moments before getting up to go meet Spy in respawn.
Even though he’d been halfway expecting a headshot at some point during their exchange, Spy certainly hadn’t expected it to be now, when Sniper had just come. Waking in respawn took him completely by surprise, and he was feeling none too pleased with Sniper when he realized what had happened. He was no longer erect, nor was he at all slick or stretched. He’d have to start over from the beginning, no thanks to that wretched bushman.
Sniper met him at the door, his pants cumstained and a sheepish grin on his face. He spread his arms out, showing that he wasn’t armed, and walked towards Spy. “Still in the mood?” he asked.
Spy huffed, crossing his arms and not looking at Sniper.
“C’mon, I’ll take real good care of you,” he offered, wrapping his arms around Spy’s thin frame, tugging at his collar gently and kissing his neck. “I’ll lick and suck you til you can’t stand it, and then I’m gonna fuck you so hard you won’t be able to sit tomorrow.” He nibbled just below Spy’s ear, pushing the mask up as he kissed and licked.
“You have just come; you will not be able to fuck me for some time. Perhaps I should simply seek company elsewhere.” Spy’s accent had thickened, his words clipped, but there was just a hint of challenge in his voice. He was willing to be convinced, though he did not intend to go easy on his lover.
“I’ve got hands, don’t I? And by the time I’ve got you worked up enough, I’ll be ready to go again,” he promised. “I just couldn’t stop, it was so beautiful. I’m yours, mate, I’ll do anythin’ you want.” He nestled his stubbly face against Spy’s neck, breathing in Spy’s cologne and natural smell. He was still buzzing from their session, though he did feel pretty guilty now. It was clear Spy hadn’t been expecting it; he was pissed.
“Do you? Are they good for anything besides pulling the trigger?” But Spy shivered, leaning against Sniper’s warmth. “I hope it was worth it,” he growled, menacingly. “I have half a mind to stab you and be done.”
Sniper opened his arms again, offering himself unarmed to Spy. “If that’s what you’d rather, I’ll take it,” he dropped his voice, “I’m sorry, I know I went too far.”
Spy softened, slightly. “You are hopeless.” Stepping into Sniper’s arms, he pinched one of his favourite spots to stab the enemy Sniper, just above his lover’s kidney. “Was it…good?” he asked, genuinely curious. “Does it truly excite you like nothing else?” The last was breathed against Sniper’s neck and ear.
The Australian squirmed, grinning a bit as Spy pinched him. “Yeah,” he said breathlessly, “makes me glow, like I’m electric. It’s kinda hard to explain.” He shivered as Spy’s lips brushed his neck. “but if you want, I can try to make you feel that good.”
Spy grinned, wickedly, twining himself around Sniper. “Oui; that is what I had in mind. Seduce me.”
Sniper licked his lips, grabbing Spy around his waist and tossing him over his shoulder, walking quickly to Spy’s room. He managed to get the door open and get them both inside without hitting his lover’s head on the doorframe. Tossing Spy onto the silk sheets, he looked the Frenchman over lustfully. “Gorgeous,” he growled, stripping off his shirt and crawling onto bed over top of Spy, popping a few buttons as he ripped Spy out of his clothing. He pressed his face to the crook of his lover’s neck and bit at him, sucking and licking when Spy keened and he sensed it was too much for him.
“Mon dieu, what are you doing? Put me down!” But Spy’s protests came through what could have been called a giggle, coming from another man. “You are ridiculous. Utterly absurd. And now you are ruining my clothing, too!” Soon Spy was past the ability to speak, reduced to moaning and running urgent, needy hands over his lover’s bare, scarred back.
Sniper pinned Spy’s wrists above his head once he was relatively free of clothing, kissing and biting at him, leaving soft red marks that turned purple if he worried them more. Something occurred to him and he fished through the pile of Spy’s clothing he’d left half on the floor, half on the bed. He grabbed Spy’s tie, unknotted it completely and used it to tie the Frenchman’s wrists to his bedframe. “This alright, luv?” he murmured, his warm, rough hands running over Spy’s bare sides.
Spy couldn’t form words to respond; he could only gasp, hips bucking as he rose to full erection at the feeling of being pinned and bound, helpless. “Please,” he cried, eyes wide, pupils enormous.
The Australian’s smile softened. He loved seeing Spy like this; open and pleading and wanton. He bent down, kissing Spy’s ear through his mask, whispering to him. “You’re a bloody marvel.” His nails scratched down Spy’s sides and began to work under his trousers, pulling at the catch instead of undoing it and finally popping it. He tugged Spy’s tailored pants off violently, casting them aside. His briefs followed, as well as his shoes, but Sniper left his socks and garters. He’d never admit it, but he loved the way Spy looked when he was naked except for those. He tugged Spy’s legs up by his ankles, licking his thumb and pressing it to his dusky pink pucker.
“Yes, yes, please, mon dieu!” Spy would never admit it, but his scene with Sniper had gotten him quite worked up, respawn or no. He wanted to draw it out, to make Sniper beg, but…he wanted this. Now. And he was bound, helpless to do more than plead and arch into his lover. “Please, now, I need you…” He couldn’t even bring himself to scold the Australian for ruining his clothing.
“You’re gonna get me,” Sniper promised him, bending to take Spy’s hard cock in his mouth as his thumb pressed and kneaded at Spy’s entrance. Sniper’s head bobbed and he swallowed Spy to the base of his cock, nose buried in the dark curls there, breathing in through his nose, enjoying his lover’s scent.
“Ngh, Sniper, yes!” Spy cried, undone, and so easily at that. He pressed down as hard as he could, straining against the pressure on his wrists, the sensation only making everything else sweeter. “Ohhhh, those thumbs of yours are…mmm! …wicked…”
Effectively gagged, Sniper could only make eye contact with Spy as he swallowed around his cock, cheeks hollowing, stubbly jaw brushing Spy’s sensitive inner thighs. He slid his thumb in past the first knuckle, letting his lover adjust slowly to the intrusion. Sniper moaned around the cock in his mouth as he tasted precum, a smile turning up the corners of his lips.
Spy whimpered and pleaded and laughed guilelessly, thrusting shallowly into Sniper’s mouth, completely lost in his pleasure. His eyelids fluttered, and he cried out, hips snapping. “Oh, Sniper…I’m close. I’m afraid I won’t last long, oh, Sniper…!”
Pleased to have had such an effect on the cool and collected Spy, Sniper slowly pulled upwards, til he had just the head of Spy’s cock in his mouth, leaking and twitching as he started to cum. Sniper just moaned encouragingly, thumb curling inside Spy.
“Oui, juste comme ca!” was the last coherent thing Spy managed to say, before he was cumming down Sniper’s throat, making little cooing sounds of encouragement and grabbing the Australian’s hair to pull him close.
Sniper frowned a little at the hands in his hair. Spy had slipped his bonds, again. This seemed to happen every time they dabbled in bondage and Spy was the one tied up. His skinny little wrists seemed to repel cuffs, rope and shackles. It didn’t even seem like he did it intentionally. He swallowed his mouthful of cum, pulling away and wiping his mouth on his forearm. Slowly, he eased his thumb out of Spy’s ass, and lay down next to his sated lover.
“Ohhhh, mon dieu…” Completely forgetting that he was supposed to be tied up, Spy inched down the bed until he was curled against Sniper’s side. “If I gave you one-tenth of that pleasure, it was worth it. But,” he grabbed a thick handful of Sniper’s chest hair, “do think twice before taking such liberties again, mmm?”
“Yeah,” Sniper’s voice was hoarse from Spy’s thrusting into his throat. “Sorry, mate.”
Spy laughed, softly and breathlessly. “All is forgiven, mon chasseur. That was…” Spy’s eyes fluttered shut and his back arched with the force of his aftershock, “…splendid.”
“You’re splendid,” Sniper grinned, kissing Spy’s brow.
“Oui. Je sais.” Spy yawned, positioning Sniper just so for maximum comfort—his, of course. “I am sleeping now. Will you stay?” He lay mostly on top of Sniper, making it clear what his feelings were on that matter.
“‘course I will,” he murmured, already feeling heavy, eyes mostly closed. “Nn, wait,” he kicked off his boots, squirmed out of his trousers and then grabbed the blanket to cover them both. He pulled Spy in against his chest, smiling. “G’night.”
“Mmm…bon. Wait. You had your boots on this whole time?” Grinning, Spy unleashed a fury of pinches on Sniper’s naked body. “You…you barbarian!”
“I coulda undressed nice and slow for you instead,” he yawned, “but you seemed pretty keen on havin’ me immediately.”
“…maybe. I shall simply have to add this offence to my list.” Spy yawned again, nesting happily against his lover. “Is your fetish satisfied?”
Sniper flushed a bit, kissing Spy’s masked head again, “Yeah.”
“I’m glad. Fils de putain.” Spy kissed Sniper’s shoulder and closed his eyes.
Sniper couldn’t bring himself to call Spy a name in return, so instead murmured, “gorgeous,” before falling asleep, snoring gently against Spy.
Spy giggled a little to himself, and then he, too, was asleep.