"Headed out tonight, Nivans?" Keith wrangled the dual kukari blades from upon his back, slapping the holsters within the confines of the locker labeled with according last name. Occasionally throwing a side glance at the sniper who rest, back upon the cool metal, legs sprawled before him. Sweat lolled in tiny rivers down his throat only to pool into the fabric, absorbed drop at a time, into the mesh about the sniper's throat. Unresponsive to the first question, a booted foot struck out, thudding against the heel of combat regulars for a grunted response. "Huh?" "Men are going for drinks later. You coming?" "Mmh uh." Neat brows furrowed, eyes lulled shut while his cranium shifted to confirm a no. Leg folding up against his chest, the fabric sticking and stinking of sweat, to hug the extremity. "Paperwork." Some chuckle made from Keith's direction before the locker clang shut, woke the soldier from his soft slumber, the heavy breaths sounding through his nose. Jarred from that sleep, the young soldier, pulled to his feet by will power alone of the sudden, holler of comrades yelling goodnight whilst they fled, until the locker room was silent. Peace. Finally alone, the top layer, of the five that the sniper wore, was wadded of the drenched fabric, into the bottom of the metal cage, followed by worn out gloves from the day's training.
Alpha Team always trained hard, but now it was the weekend. And with it came two days off from duty. Downtime before mission ready status. Captain Redfield made his way towards the locker room, passing by Keith and some others that were heading out. "Hey, Chris! Wanna meet us at Langley's? Gonna get some honeys and get smashed?" Keith was a good friend, someone Chris would hang out with at times. "Nivans is bummed out in the locker room, man. Working those boys to the bone, I swear. He's not coming. Anyway, you in?" A good question, but with Piers being in there alone, now was a good time for some… fun. "Maybe another time, Keith. Tell Sandra hi for me." The waitress that always flirted with the Captain. The black male grinned and told Chris he would say hi to her while he was banging her silly. "Hahaha! Alright, take care man. Have fun." Keith left the area and the Captain went to where his partner was located, canting his head to the side to observe to mess of what was left of Piers Nivans, sprawled against the lockers.
'Damn, wore out to Hell.' The sniper was barely awake, but no one else was around. Chris would take this opportunity to give his A.T.L. some… private lessons. Fooling around with each other wasn't uncommon between them, but only in private, and now was a perfect time to take advantage. Large stride took the Captain straight to the position before Piers with a series of only four large strides. Standing in front of his ace sniper, Chris gave a grunt. With his crotch level to the kid's face. "Wake up, Nivans. You need to work hard if you want that promotion."
Sleepy hazel eyes snapped open, startled from another round of dreariness upon his feet. Slinking down to the floor, to rest back against the clanked metal until the baritone thrum of the B.S.A.A.'s bathroom echoed, heat radiating across smooth features as a rude awakening. Opening those sharp eyes, they were greeted with the sight of dark camo fatigues, stretched tight over thick muscled thighs, and the full bulge betwixt. Glancing up, sleep took the backseat, as calloused fingertips wrapped to cup the heated mound before his face, Piers' lip never turning into a smile, but the twinkle in those eyes instantly sparking. "But, Captain..., I thought the time in your office was the last? Haven't I proven myself?" The droll tone which lazed from the seemingly unamused sniper, proving well his lack of empathy.
"Of course not. You still have a long way to go before you have earned that promotion." Such an easy game between them. It was fun, rewarding, and both men enjoyed the benefits of playing. Wonderful benefits… Such as those skillful fingertips cupping his sack through the stifling pants. The moan didn't come out, but those dark brown eyes said it all. "You did okay before, but you still need to work on technique, soldier. Extra skills needed to pass your evaluation." The zipper was pulled down by his ace. So slowly. A tease while he was given full attention. His hot flesh was still hidden behind his briefs, the bulge evident. "It's work, Nivans. Not done by a long shot."
"But, Captain, I-" Stuttering didn't come well to Piers, his acting poor, but what they wanted wasn't an act at all; squeezing and coddling that warm sack through the fabric, after pushing away the flaps of dark fatigues to part. "I don't know what to do. Teach me, please? I'm only a rookie." A little smirk at the beloved nickname, face leaned against the warm package, despite the humidity and firm nudge of Chris' hips pushing into the sniper's face for attention.
Chris leaned his hard, covered crotch against his lover's face. A relationship that was still hidden from any apart from the two it directly affected. The thrill was part of the fun, knowing well that to both men their egos were almost larger than life. Condescending smarm took the place of Chris' natural honey coated tone, snarling down his nose at the exhausted man seated yet inert upon the floor. "You rookies, all the same." A large right hand went behind Piers' head, pushing it into his covered crotch, enjoying grimace of that alert being. The sniper could breathe in that scent of musky sweat, dirt, and uniquely Chris, twisting Piers' cranium against the pressure growing in his groin. "So needy. Needing guidance. Gotta learn the basics, rookie." He could get off on this alone, but not yet; he wanted more. Far more. Seeing his sniper upon his knees was a welcoming sight that could never go to waste. "We will go over this drill again, until you can get it right." A rough shove, and fingertips began to grip at the turf of teased hair, forcing the younger man to look up and watch as each word came vindictively form Chris' mouth. "Take out my cock, and use that worthless hand of yours to stroke it. Feel it, the heat. Its hardness, take in the specs. Then you use those fat lips of yours and get to fucking work. Kiss it, lick it. Do a good job and then you might get more lessons from your Captain…, rookie."
Worthless hands, as if Piers' right hand wasn't worth more to the B.S.A.A. than that basketball great he continually heard about. Never much for sports, but they both knew that Piers' shooting was nothing if not perfection, and those deft fingers made it so. Even as they were downplayed to meaning absolutely nothing. Chris' musky scent brought a jerk to those full lips at long last, a smile he couldn't hide forever, and certainly not from his Captain. Piers Nivans lived and breathed B.S.A.A., but when his clock finally timed out for the night, it was the off the field challenges that exhilarated him. "Sorry, Captain." As though he deserved to be scolded, whilst reactive to their command; fingertips easily wrestled fabric out of the way as rough callouses wrapped around the stiff meat within the brunette's boxers, tucking the cloth away, as the Captain's dick was pulled free, pulsing in a heated grip. The throb of the hulk before him could be felt in canals of bulged blood, being pumped though that impressive girth for hazel eyes to admire. Taking in the sight of all of him, whilst the other hand splayed upon the floor beneath, to give balance, while kneepad covered knees slid so that they parted enough to allow for that back to curve, and pronounced ass to push out; the fabric tight enough that no doubt Chris could see down the backs of his camos enough to know the sniper wore nothing beneath. Just a few jerks of that expert hand and playful eyes jerked up to the overseer's face, examining for the signs he knew were there. "I know it's against regulations, but-" cutting corners. Chris wouldn't last, not that first hot load of pent up tension from watching his partner tease his cock all afternoon. All those husky glances and wanton expressions while they fought each other over commands. Chris was a God. He tripped on the power of having Piers question his authority, just so that he could smack him back down, watch as the younger man got off on his exertion of manhood. And it gave the B.S.A.A. Captain a raging erection every time. They were toying with one another since the break of dawn, since the morning circuit. Long into the blazing afternoon heat, while their weapons bellowed out shots, and they're voices raised along with the humidity. Too long, that the thick wad Chris was going to blow between those puffy lips would never hold out if he allowed the A.T.L. to jerk him off first. But he was just a rookie after all, one who was breaking rules and great at cutting corners by not following the Captain's orders to the letter; swollen lips parted like a pretty cum hole and swallowing his head.
"Stupid rookie. Never can follow orders. Bastard." Such cruel words from the esteemed Captain to ]the ace sniper. Piers was always questioning him, all orders, movements, everything. The sniper knew only he could get away with it, not because of favoritism, but because the kid was constantly pushing for what was right. Looking for ways to push, to command a bravado and feed it into their team, and it was such a turn on. It was infuriating, having all authority questioned until he was rock steady certain that he was in the right. The only way to shut it down was to get so close that he could feel the heat of Piers' breath upon his scruffy jaw, while they screamed, until he put an end to it with a single threat. Piers' reactionary inability to shut his fucking mouth, made his cock hard every time. It took hours to shake that feeling, and conveniently his sniper could be found somewhere alone hours later. Thank God for his anti-social behavior. The locker room like now. Chris' office. The men's restroom. In his Captain's quarters. Anywhere to finish the fight that Chris had put a definite end to…, somewhere to be… punished for his misdeeds. "Such a bad boy. Putting my fat cock between those cocksucking lips of yours. Fondle my ballsack, rookie. Mmm… good. Your hand feels fucking perfect. Put more of my cock in that slutty mouth of yours. Good. You need to do better in following my orders, rookie." That domineering stare, two sets of eyes looking at each other. "I can't write that recommendation for the promotion unless you learn to follow all of my orders, rookie. Ngh… gonna cum… Swallow it all. Suck it all… my cum. Then you present that ass to me… gonna test you further… NGH!" Captain Redfield jizzed in his A.T.L.'s mouth. Riding out his orgasm, the pent up build he needed to release all day.
Thick spurts squirt passed those full lips, shooting a load with every twitch of the full dick that slid conveniently to the back of the sniper's throat, not allowing the glob of tension to go to waste by gagging on the creamy load. Piers gasped in as his superior pulled back, making certain that the last string of ejaculate splay across those exhausted sweaty features. Mouth parted as his cum shot drew a line across swollen lips, and those baby smooth cheeks, slapping the sniper in the face with that spit slick cock with a loud smack. Drawing a line through his own cum, watching as it made thick lines, shoved carelessly against that sweet 'perfect accuracy' orb. Piers' hiss was silenced by a second slap to the face, this time, a large mitt giving a resounding smack, the clap it made accented by an open mouth, smearing semen with the stinging smack, red welts raising up from the single strike alone. He was a soldier, "What can't take it?" The grimace that followed was met with another smack, this time knuckles colliding when the backhand bulged the forearm muscle in the Captain's arm, snapping the sniper's head to the side to give a few black and blue to the original pink raised marks. The threat of another, jarred Piers' from his senses, both hands spreading on the ground, turning himself about face, before resting back on his heels. Quick fingers, made easy work of each buckle, the rig half out of its loops before Chris' hand clasped over the buckle, pulling it with a single jerk through the rest of the loops, the end snapping in his fist. Swung around in front, the belt was used like a choke wire, jerked about the normally covered flesh of Piers' neck, and yanking backward, forcing back his head, so that it pulled flush with the Chris' crotch, the Captain staring down each bulged and rippled muscle to meet shocked eyes, both forearms taking the load of weight until fingers remembered their task, tearing at the remaining rigs until the sweat stained camos could be jerked around Piers' taut thighs.
Chris loved to abuse his lover and the boy loved the abuse from his Captain. It was a two way street, a way to relieve stress and tension. To stay sharp and controlled. Using each other constantly for their carnal needs. "Rookie, show me that ass. Follow my orders, boy." Saying such things as Chris choked Piers' neck with a rig. "Pop it out like the little whore you are." The Captain loved seeing his ace sniper like this. In total submission to him. His God. Such a strong, virile male on his knees in total submission before him, when hours earlier he had thought himself so tough as to take on the orders of a superior. A huge turn on. That bubbled ass, so perfect, was popped out. Just as instructed. "You really want that promotion, don't you, rookie? Well, it's time for your next test. See if you can get a passing grade. Get to your feet and place your hands against the lockers. Let's see if you can keep standing while I pound that little ass of yours. Your virgin ass." Both knew the sniper wasn't a virgin. Not anymore. It was Chris who popped Piers' cherry and took him for himself. To own the sniper as his tool. His soldier. His weapon of war. And his lover. He pulled the rig that was around Piers' neck and the kid got to his feet. Assumed the position his Captain demanded. Ass popped out, ready for that meaty cock from Chris. "Good boy, you just may earn that promotion…" Chris got into position behind the ace and thrusted his huge cock inside. No prep. No lube other than the spit that was on the cock. "Someday…" And a ruthless fucking rut started right there in the locker room.
2100 hours, no one was going to come in on them, even with the beastly grunt Chris made, as his fist lined up that meaty twitching piece and crammed it up against the pucker of Piers' ass. Teeth grit hard as the belt released from about the sniper's throat, for a bruising grasp of slimmer hips, Chris' colossal body hiding Piers' own with his hulked shoulders pressing forward. Each inch swallowed into that tight ass made the Captain's baritone snake lower. His body cupping around the sniper's own while one booted foot shoved betwixt Piers' own, slamming the exterior of his combat boots, into Piers' own, to force those lean legs further apart, engulfed in the heat of that tight canal sucking Chris' cock deeper inside. "Jesus fuck, Captain." The sniper's voice was a ragged hitch, a brief break in the armor of hiding against the pain until the throbbing ache in his rectum could be turned to the blinding white pleasure, of Chris sinking his cock in ball's deep. Grinding their hips, the muscles in bear arms tightened in their position to keep the sniper's body braced, rather than being crushed into the metal lockers with a pang, slipping one foot out further to accommodate the goliath behind him, forcibly reaching down to spread those bubbled cheeks, watching as his hole was stuffed full of Chris' thick cock. Heat rose in the room, sweat beading along the nape of Piers' neck to trail along down the curvature of his spine, his body hidden whilst Chris took his time, head craned down to watch every deep thrust; allowing the soldier he was taking to sag his head forward to hide the stifled breaths, trying not to lock up from the force. That bulbous head nudged firm against the clenching inner walls, Chris' gyrating hips making certain to make its home against the sniper's prostate as soon as he felt that wave of goosebumps rise, both hands slamming up against the wall of lockers beside Piers' own so that he could claim his prize.
He just couldn't help himself. Really. Piers Nivans is the best fuck Chris ever had in his life. No other man or woman compared to the lithe male. Especially that perfect ass. Just rutting like some dog, taking his bitch over and over. Chris' huge body overtook the smaller one that belonged to the sniper, taking him as he pleased. Watching as his meaty cock slid in and out of that reddened asshole, sinking in balls deep with every single thrust. But soon enough, Chris couldn't just focus on looking at how his cock would go deep inside Piers' heated canal and he just had to fuck him like the beast he was on the inside. Loud grunts and snarls weren't hidden, there was no point this time of the night. This was his prize, this boy. This ace. His soldier. "Spread your legs, do it! Take this cock up your ass, rookie. Take it! Little whore. Sleeping your way to the top…" Hitting the prostate constantly, both men were just a mess of their insane sexual rut. It felt too good to fuck his soldier like this, in a public place. The forbidden was always a rush. "Gonna cum in your ass, rookie. You will take it. Savor it deep inside. You have to… take more of my cum in that ass of yours if you ever want that promotion, rookie. Ngh!"
Heavy breaths warmed the flesh along the backside of the sniper's throat, a tremor rushing through the sniper's body, as every thrust caused a swelling in his own ignored erection. Chris was the louder of them, always. He liked to be mouthy, throw all that backtalk that Piers gave him over the day back in his face; so loudly it hurt to hear. And to be honest, Piers was too much the soldier to ever properly role play. He was the quiet lover, rather than the mouth drill sergeant that worked in the field alongside Captain Redfield. That reddened circlet of muscle was twitching from the abuse, he had earned from that very behavior. Worked over like a whore for the bull headed command style that Piers dared to take over his own Captain in front of other soldiers. Down to fighting face to face, until spittle clung to the Captain's lip from screaming his authority at his partner, doing everything he could to hold back from dominating him in front of their team. On the field, like a fucking Drill Sergeant, and this was where Chris took his revenge, shutting Piers' up like a two dollar whore as his teeth grit tight and that smooth jaw line flexed with the silent grunts of every deep fuck. Sweat slick bodies clapped together, hips snapping forward in a frantic pace while the Captain commanded his partner to push out with that bubbled ass, forcing that cum filled cock deeper. "Gonna make your ass my home, bitch." Crushed together lids squeezed tighter, gasping in a sharp breath through pristine teeth, mouth and face still marked by that heavy load. Electricity lit behind cinched orbs, brows knitting so tightly as the frantic pace evaporated for ruthlessness, the last few thrusts shallow to empty another heavy load. His head and length twitching with every spurt as it was mirrored from the surge of pleasure, pressure building in the pits of abdominals and behind those heavy lids, until the tight grimace on Piers' face shifted, grunting under his breath as his own length bobbed with their pace, spurting semen against the tall blue lockers, and his own belly.
Captain Redfield rode out his intense orgasm. Sending several spurts of his hot cum deep inside his unruly sniper's body. It was what the boy deserved for being such an asshole on the field. For questioning his orders. Sating his lust was well worth it as Chris slowly dragged his cock out of that abused hole, seeing a thin line of his cum leaking out to mark it as his. Like always. Smacking that bubbled ass a couple of times, then he fixed his pants. "Still can't recommend a promotion, rookie. You have a lot of work to do. A lot to learn." As if. The Captain had a wicked smirk on his face and he knew it was mirrored on Piers'. Kid was exhausted. A long day of hard training and then his Captain using his body like a two dollar hooker. So worth it. "I don't mind giving some extra lessons, rookie. Come to my quarters in an hour, I'll give you an extra lesson."