Author's Notes: Ahaha, this is a revision of Allen's Façade. But this is not mine, this revision is by ActiveNeoterra, her other account (PassiveNeoluna) got hacked and everything got wiped out. :C So she wanted me to post it on my account, just to be safe.

Also, the original of Allen's Façade is on my account and DA account as well. But I still think her revision is better than mine. xD

Disclaimer: I don't own MW2, Infinity Ward does. I also don't own this revision.

It was a shock to Makarov to find Allen at his front door. Not because he didn't know who Allen was, but because he didn't expect him to be like this. Even the others were shocked at first with Allen.

Allen was cute.

Lev had thought that Allen was 18, surprised when Allen told him that he was actually 22.

Anatoly was the first to say something, "Ah hello...?"

Allen smiled brightly, "Hello, I'm Alexei Borodin." It blew them all away.

Makarov cleared his throat, "Yes, we were expecting you. Come in." He opened the door wider as Allen stepped in, bag just hanging on his shoulder.

Lev and Kiril closed their mouth shut and stared as Allen smiled at them. Allen turned his attention to Viktor, who just blushed and looked away. Allen paused and looked at Anatoly, tilting his head with confusion. "Um…are they okay?"

Anatoly smiled sheepishly, "They are fine. Would you all like something to eat? I'm sure everyone's trip was exhausting."

Lev, Kiril, and Viktor stayed cool. All three replied with a simple 'yes', while Allen took it as if it was the greatest offer.

Allen pumped his fist and grinned, "That'd be awesome!"

All of them then had a nosebleed start out their nose; Allen jumped back with surprise and bumped into Makarov. "Whoa!" Allen gaped; Makarov grabbed him in time so he would not fall, which resulted Makarov's arms going around Allen's waist, the younger man sensed a spicy musk invade his being, feeling calm and alert in one.

Makarov cleared his throat to indicate his presence, Allen looked up at him awkwardly, "Um thanks." Makarov raised a brow in question as Allen blushed slightly in embarrassment.

The others were jealous.

When it came time to eat, they all made their introductions to Allen. They all ate with ease, laughing at jokes, talking about sports, they even had a contest on who could chug down their drink the fastest.

Makarov did not take part at all, he ate silently. He kept a close eye on Allen, watching his every move. At times, he thought Allen took momentary, almost unnoticeable glances of him while speaking with the others. Of those fleet moments, his and Allen's eyes met. What he saw from them was of curiosity, and even an odd sense of innocence despite being a man ordered to kill on sight.

Once Makarov was done eating, he stood up to look to Allen, "Once you are done eating and doing whatever else you want to do, you must report to my room. I have important things to talk to you about."

Allen smiled with his spoon still in his mouth, and nodded.

With that, Makarov left for his room. He had to break Allen down. Makarov stopped abruptly when he heard Allen laugh, it sounded so light. He shook his head and waved the idea out of his head, he had to get to his room.

It wasn't until an hour and a half later that Allen came to Makarov's room. Allen had knocked first, which Makarov thought was amusing.

Once Allen was given clearance to enter the room, he noticed the room was dimly lit, for the light from Makarov's laptop and clock had more notable glows. He looked over at Makarov who was busy typing away at the laptop. Allen pulled down the hem of his shirt, suddenly feeling dirty for being in the room at all.

Makarov stopped typing and turned to Allen, shocked briefly with Allen's appearance. His hair was messy, shirt was stretched as if someone had pulled on it, so stretched that Allen's shoulder exposed a bite mark.

Allen noticed his stare and laughed nervously, avoiding eye contact. "Um we had a wrestling match." Allen moved his hand to his exposed shoulder, hiding the mark.

"The others might have beaten him up; he still has not broken down." Makarov frowned at the thought. "Then again, he's…interesting."

Allen rubbed his nape, "So...what did you wanna talk about?"

Makarov set his laptop calmly aside and looked to the disheveled man. What Allen didn't expect him to do was suddenly close in and pin him to the wall, he also didn't expect for the man to kiss him senseless, the scent of musk assaulting him yet again. Allen sighed inwardly in exhaustion; he was getting tired of this.

Only Allen's breath hitched when Makarov started to kiss his neck. Allen whimpered, much to Makarov's enjoyment. "If beating him up will not break him down, then surely this will," Makarov thought with a smirk.

Makarov felt Allen struggling to try to get his arms out of Makarov's grip. Makarov growled, pulled Allen toward him, and threw him on the bed.

Allen reacted quick and tried to get up, only to get pinned back down by Makarov. Allen looked up at Makarov with child-like eyes, as if eager yet not. "You do realize that you're 24 years older than me, right?" Makarov ignored Allen, ignoring that he actually enjoyed his challenge of morals.

Makarov went back to what he did before, kissing Allen's neck. Allen whispered in Makarov's ear, "Pedophile." It sent chills down Makarov's spine, it surprised him. He raised his head and looked at Allen, Allen who smiled as if nothing was wrong.

Makarov's hands gripped Allen's shirt, he admitted he felt nervous with Allen. He did not want to taint what innocence Allen had left. But Allen's smile tempted the Russian, to fuck him or not.

Allen frowned as he saw Makarov's devious smirk. His eyes widened as Makarov kissed him fiercely, to which Allen reacted by shutting his mouth closed.

Makarov grunted and shoved his hand down Allen's pants, receiving a gasp from him. Makarov took the opening and continued to explore the younger man's mouth.

Allen whimpered and moaned, panting when Makarov escaped from his breath.

Makarov slid Allen's shirt off him and took a long pause. Revealed to him were tattoos of St. Basil's Cathedral, snowflakes, and a Goshawk. "Hmm, interesting choice of body art"

"Drop them." Allen understood the demand and removed his boots and trousers and dropped them in a gentle thump. With this, Makarov hastily removed his own garments to be tossed carelessly at a distance.

The younger man leaned his arm back to catch a full-body glimpse of Makarov, light and notable scars from bullets and knife cuts adorn the impressive physique. "Even in his late 40's he looks like a god" he thought admirably.

Makarov took notice of the wandering eyes and smiled. Allen felt his entire being flush from the look, making his tattoo of the cathedral stand by a pinkish glow.

Allen turned away from his superior's look; he didn't want to admit it but Makarov made him tense, warm, lustful, so many sins to culminate once the older man had his way with him.

"What's wrong? I thought you would be more flattered that you're bedded with an infamous terrorist." Makarov teased. He held the boy's chin and slipped his tongue back through his slight lips.

This time, Allen didn't hold back and gave in the fervor as their tongues danced to dominate and wrapped his arms around him; the ever heated moments with Vladimir made him painfully aroused. "Oh fuck" he uttered from the kiss.

Makarov caressed his face "Alexei, don't you know what you do to me?" Makarov growled and pushed Allen to settle completely on his bed. He decided to move from the rough foreplay and prepared himself to penetrate Allen.

Allen looked up to lock with his superior's heterochromic gaze, the eyes of a wolf about to consume. Makarov's right hand slid up Allen's side, his muscles taut, wandering over the bite mark and cupped the younger man's face to look to him.

"I'm sure you would love this, don't fight it" Makarov hushed in husk baritone, his tone menacing, yet strangely loving. Without warning, he then jammed himself to the hilt inside Allen.

Allen breathed heavy and gritted his teeth, the sensation of his superior was strange but...right. Makarov grunted shortly sound in the room, growls mixed with his growing pace, and warm coats of sweat forming between their bodies.

Allen smiled at him and held the sheets. "Vladimir" he moaned. Makarov's body tensed at this and grinned; he leaned down and licked his neck.

He felt his seed spill deep to coat Allen's prostate. Allen cried out when his orgasm on his partner's abs, he gave an airy laugh, everything that just happened in the mere minutes with Makarov felt surreal to him. Allen settled limp on the bed, sedated and spent.

"Stay with me for the night, Borodin" Makarov suggested more than ordered. Allen nodded and settled under the sheets. "Dobroi nochi," he uttered before he drifting to rest.

Makarov kissed his lips and felt Allen kiss lightly back, before settling on his side to watch over him, his thoughts wandered to what was planned. If only...

-No Russian-

Allen sighed in exhaustion and pain. He had conflicted feeling of what he had done and what he had to witness, Makarov and the others killing the civilians, their own people; it hurt his heart when he heard the screams. As the ambulance doors' opened he was relieved to see Anatoly, Allen gave him a sad smile.

As Makarov pulled him onto the ambulance he heard a gunshot, and he fell to the ground. Allen looked at him, blood bubbles coming out of his mouth. "W-what..?" Allen gazed to his killer and understood why; he managed to smile sadly at Makarov one last time before he faded into white "Y-you knew..." he thought.

Makarov regretfully closed the door and turned to the others as the ambulance drove them all away, "The American thought he could deceive us. Once they see that body, all of Russia will cry for war."

Anatoly eyes widened as he realized what Makarov had done, "W-what? No! NO! We have to go back!"

Makarov growled, "He was an American!" Makarov hoped his voice didn't reveal his pain as he said that.

Viktor punched the wall. "That's impossible!" he cried, his words contradicting with his worried look.

Makarov snapped at Viktor, "He WAS and killing him was part of the plan."

Anatoly slid against the wall until he sat down, "B-but he wasn't..."

Makarov looked down, finding that the floor was more interesting to look at than them. "Did you not notice that he hardly fired at the civilians?"

Viktor cursed, "We all fucked him up"

Makarov paused at what Viktor said, "What?"

Anatoly sighed, "Before he went to your room to talk, all of us... "

The trailed words said everything, Makarov's clenched his jaw. He remembered Allen's appearance when he went into the room, his hair, his shirt, the bite mark. "You all-"

Viktor snorted, "Tried to fuck him, yes."

Makarov looked at the back door in anger. He was furious, at them, at Allen, and at himself.

Anatoly cut into his thoughts, "He fought us though, he did not want to. I left, but the others stayed and-"

Viktor glared at Anatoly, "Hey, I didn't do anything to him. He said he didn't want to, and I didn't. Lev and Kiril on the other hand I had to knock them out so they wouldn't do anything to Alexei."

Makarov eyes widened, Allen hadn't done anything with the others. Allen only did it with him. Makarov's hands shook, his heart felt pain. "If only...If only I have been ignorant of you were, a pawn in this conflict; you could have still been mine." Vladimir thought, his regret distressing him.

Anatoly turned to Makarov, "His name is not Alexei Borodin, correct?"

Makarov rested his head in his hands, "No."

Viktor closed his eyes, "Then what was it?"

With a sad smile, he answered "Joseph Allen."