You're nervous as you delve your hand into the dark cloth bag that the Spy holds open. You can't see inside so you don't know what the classes have put inside. You can feel lots of different textures, some cold and slick, and others rough and warm. You hear a muffled clink and your hand grasps something long and smooth.
You pull the item upwards out of the bag, to see that it is in fact a necklace made of 5 slender silky white crocodile teeth. Each one is joined into worn brass clasps that hang on a dark brown thread. You hold it by the thread so that the lamp lights up the pale fangs and you hear the clink as the teeth clash together. "Who's is this?" you ask, looking around at the mercenaries, though you know full well who it belongs to.
You watch as the Sniper stands up adjusting his tan brown hat on his head. "That'll be mine. It's my crocodile smile." He confirms in his deep dry voice, and walks up to where you stand, towering over you and holding out his hand. You drop the unusual necklace into it and he puts it inside the pocket of his vest.
He then makes his way to the makeshift 'closet' which is just an unused storeroom and the door is held open by the Spy, waiting for you to follow. You feel your face redden as you realise that the Sniper has gone ahead and is waiting for you and you hurry through the door, ignoring the sly chuckle the Spy gives as you dart by.
"Seven minutes, you two," he calls coyly before shutting the door, drenching the room in darkness.
"Sniper?" You call out, unsure, as you feel the wall attentively, using it to guide you. A flicker lights the darkness and you can make out the dark shape of the Sniper with his back to the wall, sat on the floor in the corner of the store room, a wavering match between his fingers.
"I'm here; come sit down," he calls, and you walk towards him shyly, settling yourself beside him. You watch the flame wobble as it wears down the match. "I'm not really used to this kinda game," the Sniper begins as he too watches the flame, its shimmering orange silhouette reflecting in the amber-tinted lenses of his glasses.
"I think I played this once back when I was a teen - it ended with me in the closet with my friend's girlfriend and I didn't do anything." He chuckles gruffly, turning to look at you a small grin on his lips. "So you don't have to do anything, if you don't want to." He finishes, his breath causing the flame to ripple crazily.
You don't know what makes you do it but you lean over suddenly and blow out the dancing flame, engulfing yourself in darkness, the light smell of smoke filling your nose. You hear the chuckle again along with the sound of the match hitting the ground. "That was my last match you know." He grumbles jokingly.
"Can we give it a shot?" You ask quickly before you can go back on what you have just done, your heartbeat hammering in your chest. You don't hear an answer, but callous, gentle fingers skim your neck and travel up to trace your warming cheek. Your breath catches as he pulls you forward gently and you feel sun-kissed lips press against your own.
It's like an electric current has crackled up your spine. It's pleasant and the Sniper isn't a bad kisser at all. His lips move strong and sure against yours, your lips parting slightly to release a content sigh before the Sniper's tongue pries your lips open further, and your mouth fills with the taste of coffee and tobacco.
His weather-worn lips are incredibly gentle, each kiss as soft as the last. Your hand comes to curl into the soft, worn fabric of his vest, the other wrapping around his neck, pulling the Sniper closer. He responds positively, curling an arm around your waist and the hand which once cradled your cheek now cupping your neck.
Without much warning you hear the creak of the door opening and you open your eyes to see light spilling into the dark room, showing the Spy's slender silhouette in the gap. "Time's up, mes amis," he chuckles, moving away to let you out. Both you and the Sniper rise swiftly, trying not to look at one another.
You take the first step towards the light and feel a hand grab yours, pressing something into your palm. You accept it curiously and allow the Sniper to squeeze past, leaving you in the storeroom. You unfurl your hand and take in the item that lies there.
The Sniper's Crocodile Smile sits pearly white under the pale light from the doorway and against the warm complexion of your hand. With a shy happy smile on your lips, you slip the necklace into your jacket pocket and walk out to join the rest of the team.