First, my apologies. I am not a professional. And my writing has been known to bring even myself to tears. But this has been deemed readable, so here I am inflicting it upon you. Also I've not had an actual Beta pick it apart. So I apologise for that as well.
Second, this spawned as a discussion. Or rather, a friend of mine was listening to "Dance Dance" but FOB and the line "I only want sympathy in the form of you crawling into bed with me" was nothing if a very Spy thing to say.
Third... I have no excuses for the horrible written Aussie accent. I'm a Kiwi and I supposedly should know better. But I can't help it; it's addictive. Read at your own peril.
It was the worst day of his life.
He had slept in, missed breakfast, and then it had all gone downhill from there.
He had spent most of the night decoding the Intel that Scout had captured and brought them their final win for the day. Before he knew it he awoke to the starting siren. He had thrown his suit on and run out to help his team, but had been mowed down by the ubercharged enemy Heavy and his Medic before he could even set foot outside.
His team had thrown him dirty looks in the respawn room. They all looked fit to kill him, but the Scout had gotten there first; blown his head off before he could even blink. When he respawned again Scout was pointing the blood-splattered scattergun and his head.
"Get your fucking head in the game, you shape shifting bastard. Or you won't have a head." The Bostonian was gone before Spy could backstab him.
He moved quickly to the enemy base. A good streak of backstabs should have cheered him up. Would have cheered him up. But the Pyro was waiting. Apparently he didn't like the domination Spy had held on him yesterday. Spy was in burning agony before he even stepped a foot into their base.
In respawn Spy gritted his teeth and opted to try the sewer route. It would take longer but was statistically safer. The Pyro found him there, too. He respawned yet again, and Spy could not help the shudder as he remembered Pyro and his muffled shouts of joy as he has watched Spy writhe in agony and wait for the fire to consume him.
The third time Spy actually made it into the enemy base. He invisibly stalked the Pyro, and backstabbed the mumbling abomination. That had cheered him in time to walk disguised into an Intel room packed to the rafters with the enemy team. Who all opened fire on him at once.
So here he was, sitting outside the Intel room, his Heavy and Medic ready with an uber, the Scout ready to take the Intel and run, and their merciful Pyro covering their backs. He ran into the room disguised as the enemy Scout, right through a wall of flame. He ran right for the sentry, slapping his sapper on as his flesh burned and crackled. He didn't get the chance to draw his knife and stab the Engineer before he fell to the floor, gasping for breath and dying from horrific burns. The others came thundering in after him, and Spy assumed the break for the Intel was successful; since the Announcer called defeat as he laid dying, abandoned in the enemy base.
Not that the team shared their joy with him. They all crowded around, placed their blame firmly at his feet, explained how all of the things that went wrong with their plans were because he didn't do his job. He should have been the first one out there, he should have disabled everything and taken care of the Engineer, he should have been some sort of fucking god and carried the fucking team to victory.
He left them and stalked up to the roof, not saying a word. Spy was human, not some entity with supernatural powers. He was good at his job but he wasn't perfect. And yet they saw fit to blame him for everything.
He had smoked a pack of cigarettes and was onto his second before he was approached, one warm hand reached out and squeezed his shoulder. He tensed up, hunched into himself.
"Wanna talk 'bout it?"
"Fuck off." He didn't even look, just sucked at the cigarette and inhaled the soothing nicotine. They patted his shoulder once before sitting down beside him. Spy turned and glared at Sniper.
"Are you deaf as well as stupid? I said fuck off." Sniper just sat, hands clasped in his lap. Spy blew a cloud of smoke into Sniper face before he turned away and looked over the pitted desert battleground they've been living in for years. Sniper waited until Spy's shoulders weren't quite so hunched before he spoke.
"It ain't yer fault," he began, his thumb scratched at a sideburn "Yer human, I know. Have good days and bad days. The guys-"
"Don't." Spy cut him off. It's what he had just been telling himself but he doesn't want to hear it. Doesn't need to hear it from Sniper. Doesn't need this right now. So Spy lashed out, glared at him again.
"You may be used to being useless but I'm not." Sniper frowned, but shrugged it off.
"Look, I know yer havin' a shit day, but I came out here to give ya some sympathy. No need to bite m' head off." Spy shot him a look, lip curled in contempt.
"I only want sympathy in the form of you crawling into bed with me." Sniper stiffened, and Spy smirked internally. 'Got you, you fucking nosy, interfering bastard.' He thought, 'Now fuck off so I can brood in peace.'
"Fine." Spy turned his head slowly, not quite believing his ears. The Sniper was completely serious, and met his gaze.
"'F that's what you need then fine. Let's go crawl into bed." Spy just stared. Sniper stood and held out his hand. Spy hesitated for only a moment before he grasped it and let Sniper help him up. Why not? His day already sucked, this couldn't possibly make it worse.
"Your place 'r mine?" Sniper tried a lopsided grin, obviously amused at the thought of 'picking Spy up'. Spy turned and made for the rooftop access door, ignored Sniper completely. Sniper followed along at an easy pace, his long legs had no trouble keeping up with Spy's quick stride.
Spy made his way to Sniper's nest and climbed up. He didn't wait for Sniper to get up before he started stripping. Sniper slipped through, closed the trap door behind him. Spy folded up each article of his uniform and placed it neatly together within easy reach of the bed. Not that he could have called it that. More like an elevated mattress with a duvet. And a garish thing that he could only assume was a knitted blanket.
When he was down to his mask and boxers Spy turned to the Sniper. He's watched the Spy the whole time, and now there was a half grin on his face. Spy resisted the urge to slap him. Sniper was the one offering to help relieve some stress after all. After Sniper said nothing, just stood there, grinning, Spy folded his arms and snapped.
"Well are we doing this or not?" Sniper grinned wider and looked at Spy over the rim of his Aviators.
"Impatient, aren't ya?" Spy glared back and started for his clothes. If the Sniper was going to be like this then he's not staying.
A hand on Spy's wrist stopped him, and an arm wrapped around his waist. Lips pressed gently to the back of his neck, and the arm tightened; a hug. His wrist was released and the hand made for his boxers, just barely dipped in and ran along the waistband. Teeth lightly scraped the nape of his neck before the mouth moved away and blew at the moisture left there.
"I'm here fer ya, Spy. Sympathy fer ya, remember? Don't take everything so personally."
If he had to... if he was taken from this hell and away from the respawn, and was forced to take truth serum, and was forced to admit, on pain of death... then he would admit that it was nice to feel… wanted. Appreciated. But even then he would most likely lie. He had his own twisted sense of pride to look to. Those lips pressed once more to the back of his neck, the hand dipped teasing close before it pulled out of his boxers. Sniper's grip loosened and he stepped back.
"Go on, make yerself comfortable." Spy eyed the dubiously clean bed, but made his way over and gingerly laid down. The gaudy blanket was surprisingly soft and the bed smelled clean. And... smelled also of eucalyptus and linseed oil, faintly. Sniper made his way around his nest, took his sweet time stripping down to his boxers. He placed his weapons and clothing away neatly. His hat and glasses he took off last, placed on a crate within easy reach of the bed. He looked at the Spy and made a rolling gesture with his hand. Spy stared up at him and Sniper sighed.
"Look, I'm here to take care of ya, yeah? Roll over." Spy glared at him.
"If you think I am bottoming then you are in for a nasty surprise." Spy told him. Sniper rummaged in a nearby crate and brought out an amber bottle.
"I know. That's not what I have in mind. Jus' roll over." Spy eyed him a moment before complying. Within moments Sniper had straddled his upper thighs. Spy hissed and twisted.
"Hey, easy! I'm not gonna take ya. Now jus' relax." Spy glared at Sniper over his shoulder, but settled back down. He heard the sound of something liquid being rubbed over hands and tensed up, ready to escape. Hands slicked with warm oil pressed on his back. They smoothed all over his back and Spy smelled the faint scent of eucalyptus. It was not unpleasant and slowly, little by little, he relaxed.
"'S more comfortable if ya rest yer head on yer arms." Spy was quite capable of finding a comfortable position himself. But he folded his arms and rested his head on them anyway. Sniper's hands slicked over his back and shoulders, worked in the oil and methodically massaged and smoothed out the knots of tension Spy had not really known he had. After a while he was lulled into a calm state, and despite his misgivings he even let down his guard. He let out a contented moan, and got a chuckle in response.
"A strange kind of foreplay, bushman." Spy remarked.
The hands on his back changed. Fingertips ran down his spine and up his sides, sent small jolts through him. He felt Sniper shift and then felt heat on his back. Body heat from Sniper as his lips found the back of his neck again, while Sniper's hands found sensitive spots on Spy's back. With the eucalyptus Sniper's breath on his skin was ice hot and Spy let out another small moan as he felt the stirrings of desire.
Sniper sat up, on his hands and knees, allowed Spy to turn onto his back beneath him. Spy looked up into Sniper's eyes, his gaze flickered down to the bushman's gentle smile and back. He opened his mouth to speak, but Sniper silenced him with his lips. The eucalyptus on them made Spy's tingle.
"Shhh, let me take care of ya." Sniper kissed at Spy's lips once again before he moved on to his neck. Sniper's skilled hands roamed over Spy's chest as they had his back, found yet more sensitive spots and teased them with light touches. Sniper moved down to Spy's nipples, flicked them with his tongue before he teased them with light nips. Spy arched up into the touch, unused to being the passive one. Spy was nothing if a great lover. But Sniper… this once Spy was receiving instead of giving, and it makes him smug.
Especially when Sniper trailed down his stomach to the waistband of his boxers. Sniper's tongue laved across his skin from hip to hip, along the cloth edge. He hooked his thumbs in the waistband and pulled, releasing Spy's half-hard shaft to the warm desert dusk. He kissed his way back up Spy's thighs, bit gently at the junction of thigh to torso. Spy was panting, but was otherwise quiet. Stoic. Sniper kissed at the base of Spy's shaft, hands rubbing at his hips. Spy doesn't make a sound, not even when Sniper returned to kissing back down his thighs. Spy wasn't about to give him the satisfaction. Suddenly he felt Sniper's breath ghosting over the hot head of his shaft.
"Hey." Spy lifted his head so he could look down at Sniper. He was greeted with Sniper's smile.
"I'm here to help. This isn't a contest of wills." Spy met his smile with a frown.
"You could have fooled me." Sniper kissed the tip, and then enveloped the head in his mouth, used his lips and tongue to pull back the foreskin. Spy let out a faint whimper.
"I've been teasin', I'm sorry. This is for ya, though. Ya don't have to fight it." Spy snorted and let his head fall back.
"Just get on with it." Sniper chuckled. He licked from the base to the tip before he took Spy's shaft into his mouth and started sucking. He was slow at first, slow despite his claim. He teased, but only to enhance the experience. All too soon he was going faster, his hands holding down Spy's hips to prevent Spy from thrusting into that tight, hot mouth. Spy's hands found their way into Snipers hair, just to hang on. Sniper bobbed expertly on Spy's shaft, used his tongue and brought low moans from Spy. He didn't know if this was a hobby of the Aussie's or if he just enjoyed fellating bananas but it was amazing. Moans and pants and whines escaped from Spy's lips as he took Sniper at his word and let go. Let it just be about Spy and his pleasure.
Spy felt himself close, but he clenched his jaw and held back. He didn't want it to be over so quickly; even if it was about him he felt the need to… be impressive. Sniper moaned quietly, sent delicious vibrations through Spy's shaft. It brought him closer but still he held back, clawed his way back from the brink of climax. Sniper moaned again, not so quietly, and deep-throated Spy whole. He felt the tip touch the back of Sniper throat and came right then and there, cried out loud and long, the noise was much a release as his climax. Sniper kept up his hum, swallowed around Spy's shaft again and again until the sated Spy was quite finished. It was pleasure, so much to quite remain lucid and Spy floated off into euphoria, shook with exhaustion. He laid panting, basked in the afterglow.
It took some time for Spy to come back to himself, and when he did he found Sniper had pulled his boxers back up and had made himself a cup of something.
"Fuck, I needed that." Sniper's chuckle found Spy's ears, and he half thought to himself that it was rather a nice sound.
"'M glad you 'ppreciate it." Spy hadn't come right out and said that, but he did appreciate what Sniper had done for him. A little pampering was important for a Spy, and his ego.
"Interesting form of sympathy you have there." Sniper carried over a hot cup of coffee, black and sweet. He gave Spy a knowing smile; that was how Spy took it. Spy sat up and took a sip. The caffeine was good. And so was nicotine. Spy reached for his cigarette case and opened it, offered one to Sniper.
"Nah, thanks. I got my own." Sniper seemed surprised at his offer, but pleased. Spy lit one up and snapped the case shut, took a deep breath of the wonderful nicotine. Nothing like a post-sex cigarette. Spy blew a smoke ring at the Sniper and the marksman grinned.
"Why?"
"Because it's unfair t'think of ya as some kind of superman. Yer as human as we are, but it's easy to forget." Sniper cradled his own cup, one thumb ran the lip. "And I feel bad fer raggin' on yer case."
Spy stood, reached for his uniform and started dressing.
"Do not feel so bad. My performance today was indeed lacking." Spy can't stay here, not when Sniper looked at him like that. With those concerned, honest eyes. Spy wasn't entirely sure this wasn't a mistake, either. Sniper seemed to want to say something else but Spy shot him a look.
"I only want sympathy in the form of you crawling into bed with me." Spy reminded him. Sniper nods, made no move to stop Spy when he opened the trap door and started climbing through.
"Spy." Spy paused, his chin just above the edge of the wooden floor.
"Ya know where t' find me." Spy stared at Sniper a moment, took in his easy pose and honest face. He nods barely before disappearing.
Maybe Spy would find Sniper again sometime soon.
On the next worst day of his life.