The man was at my mercy and he knew it. True, his glare seemed defiant enough, but I was familiar with this front, intimately so. How must it feel for him, the reversal of fortune? I could appreciate the small signs: the tension in his posture, the clenched fist, the way he worried at his bottom lip with his tongue, now biting it slightly. He brought a hand up to dab at the blood from my strike, then dropped it, unsure of what movements I might see as threatening. Quick eyes scanned my face, searching for some change of expression, some sign of his fate. This cowed demeanor was just— my god, it was exhilarating, but we'd stayed frozen in place long enough.

Rougher than necessary, I divested the spy of his knife and wristwatch. No gun, I noted as I slid the two objects along the floor and out of reach. "It will be nice to have spares," I said. The spy considered this, his mouth forming a grim smile that left as soon as I moved again for my own knife. I sent it sliding to join the collection— the less to concern myself with, the better. All I needed was my revolver, which the man now seemed transfixed by.

"Put your mind at ease." I said in our native tongue. "Blood on my suit is bad enough. I won't go making a mess of my room, not unless I have to." A clean shot was a waste as well, too quick of an end for a thing worth drawing out. "I'd much rather continue where we left off. As I won our 'coin toss,' I believe you were to kneel there on the floor and... mmm, I think you'd best get on with it." The other spy forced out a laugh.

"I suppose I deserve this—"

"Yes," I snapped, giving him a shove. Yes, he did.

The spy got to the floor after that with no further comment; the rain must have stopped at some point, leaving only the sounds of his movement. I placed one leg on either side of him, attentive as he went to his knees and freed my cock from my pants. He leaned in, a guarded look on his face. It wasn't taking much to make me quite hard again— just the sight of his freshly bitten lips would have been enough. It really was a wonderful mouth, the Sniper's...

After a moment's hesitation he took me in his hand, flicking his tongue out and pressing it slowly to my skin. Then he licked. Oh, it was good. So good, a hot, wet pressure trailing up my entire length from the base to the tip... Holy mother of god... How long had it been since I'd allowed myself enjoyment that wasn't by my own hand? The feeling was intense beyond any recollection of the act.

As the pleasure subsided, I became aware of curious eyes fixed on mine, intent on my reaction. That stare... No— NO, this was NOT for his benefit. "Spy," I hissed. "Concentrate on the task at hand."

"Your accent—" he said without warning, "I can't tell you how nostalgic it makes me. When we're speaking together this way, it's as if there's no fighting, no teammates, just us..." An unpleasant revelation, but I wouldn't allow him to unnerve me. I could see what he was trying to accomplish. More insight gained at a steep cost.

At my lack of reaction, he changed his tactics. "Really, I might just do this out of fondness for you. No gun would be necessary..." He added, giving my revolver a sidelong glance. Pathetically obvious. "You would like to see your Sniper kneeling here, compliant?"

"The gun stays," I said, forcing it into his shoulder, feeling half-mad from the delay. "Keep going." The spy let out the breath he had been holding; the sensation on me was warm and tantalizing.

At last he took me fully into his mouth and began to suck. Lightly at first, but soon the press of his tongue became forceful, the suction stronger. I rested one hand on the back of his head and curled my fingers into his hair, pushing downward. It felt short, like the real sniper's, and I wondered if it had been cut just to deceive me. The spy gave a start when I hit the back of his throat, but got the hint, taking in as much as he could on successive bobs.

My other hand gripped my revolver, the thought of his powerlessness as exciting as his attentions to me. What a terrible man I'd become, and more terrible still for finding amusement in that fact. Ohh... but it was his fault, really. I would never have entertained something like this with any seriousness before he— did what he did, and I couldn't find it in myself to feel bad in any way. Not now especially. Shit... He was very talented... I didn't want to finish now, but mmmm— I really did need to stop him...

A hand on the small of my back jerked me to my senses. Thin knife cuts from that night in front of the window stung as he traced the lines with a delicate touch— soft, gloveless fingers bringing with them a sense of revulsion so strong that I pushed him off of me. "Enough!"

The spy pulled back, catching his breath. "What, you don't like it?" Genuine surprise showed in his voice. "I thought I was doing well."

"That's not it." I said, calming a bit. "No, you're a natural-born cocksucker."

"Well... Knowing how you are with compliments, I'll take what I can," he said, licking the taste from his lips. "I hope you're beginning to appreciate me, BLU Spy. You might think it vain to say, but in some ways I truly am irreplaceable." He looked up suddenly. "Let me finish, please." The lightness of his tone stunned me until I realized exactly how desperate he must be to get me off before this could go further.

"I don't think so."

He sat quietly for the span of a few seconds. "So then. How do we do this?"

"Undress completely. Then come back to the bed." He nodded and started on his boots. For a man who made a living on his deftness, his progress was slow.

"You were at our base yesterday," the spy said, ridding himself of the first one.

Well. So I had been. Was this another attempt at distraction? I found myself honestly curious about what he might say.

"You were there looking for me?" We both knew the answer to this already. I made no reply as the spy tugged off the other boot. "Killing my teammates was indelicate," he started again with a shake of his head. "I've passed up many opportunities with yours, you know. I've seen them at their most vulnerable."

So he had some self control. A shame he didn't exercise it more. The RED spy began to slide the trousers from his hips, drawing my attention back to his false form.

"Did you actually think your sniper would go for you?" Again with this useless talk! I opened my mouth to silence him, but the spy persisted. "He seems quite content handling things on his own. Want to know how he moans when he gets himself off? I've heard it." I thought of the Cloak and Dagger I'd taken from the man and realized— with a twinge of jealousy— just how plausible his words were.

"Pay attention to what I'm doing right now— you think I care? This—" I motioned at the spy's body, "Is just as good. Better even. Did you think I wanted him for his cunning mind?"

"Ah, poor Sniper. So this is an ideal situation for you, then. You have his body and my cunning mind."

"Not what I meant. And you're not so clever that I didn't catch you. Just when did you intend to make yourself known?" The spy looked taken aback for a second, then there was a hint of something else... smugness?

"I wasn't. Not until you said what you did."

For the first time since taking control, I faltered. If I hadn't realized— kissed him— on the mouth... whispered kind words to him, gotten him off— I thought I had known the worst he could do, but this was an even grosser violation. He wasn't a sadist, he was something— far beyond that, something— diseased. A moment too late I saw his intent. The quirk of his mouth told me he knew he succeeded. Sly bastard! A surge of anger grew in me and I raised my gun at his face.

The smile vanished, but it wasn't enough. "Stand up," I barked. He did so. "Strip." He tugged off his underwear and socks with a haste delightful compared with earlier. I pulled myself the rest of the way onto the bed and laid back, propping a pillow between my head and the wall so I could see all of him. It was almost the same position I'd been in when he'd first entered the room. Now I was shirtless and my pants were partway down my thighs, but it was easy to feel in control with his nakedness and my revolver, which I used to gesture the spy down to the bed with me.

I looked at him, making sure I had all of his attention. There was no question of that. "I want you to get yourself ready and then fuck yourself on me," I said, enjoying his expression as my words sunk in. "I don't want to have to do anything at all. Now..."