( Author's note: aspects of this story have been toned-down in accordance with rules; if you're desperate to see the un-edited version, it can be found at y-gallery, where my username is also Yaddie, and at my tumblr, helpmejesus dot tumblr dot com)


The next day, breakfast in the mess hall was fairly uneventful- at least, for the brief period of time Engineer was there to observe it. He was leery of being hassled again by Spy in front of the others, for Sniper's privacy as much as for his own, so he only stuck around long enough to wolf down some toast and grab himself a cup of coffee. Nobody stopped him in the hall, and he drank his coffee in the solitude of the workshop with only his thoughts to bother him. Unfortunately, he knew it would be a few hours before the team would be called on to fight, and that was more time for brooding than Engineer really wanted. Putting his mind to other things proved difficult, though. He found himself poking aimlessly at a stack of papers, when a knock at the door caught his attention.

"C'mon in," Engineer said, glancing up. He felt his face go red as the door opened and Sniper trudged in, looking disheveled after the previous night's mishaps. Trying not to sound as awkward as he was feeling, he cleared his throat and did his best to act like everything was normal. "Hey there, slim. What brings you here at this hour of the morning?"

Sniper's face was obscured by his aviators and the shade from his hat, which Engineer found to be a guilty relief. He felt more comfortable knowing less about the man's emotional state. After a moment of faltering dumbly, Sniper found his voice; he sounded like he'd been through the wringer. "I just, er- I just felt I oughta thank you. Y'know. For puttin' up with me last night."

Engineer found himself doubly grateful for his own habit of wearing goggles- they made it easier to hide his expression, which was doubtlessly sort of stunned right now. "Oh! Well, I... it wouldn't have been right to just leave ya there, y'know? ...d'you remember much?"

A rumbling sigh was Sniper's initial answer, and he pushed the door shut behind him, then found a seat on a crate before speaking again. "More'n I'd like, to be honest." He tilted his hat up for a moment and massaged his temples, grimacing in pain. Sniper's face was drawn and unshaven, but he'd apparently found a change of clean clothes somewhere, and may have even showered- Engineer couldn't smell him from where he was sitting, anyhow. "Can't recall everything I said, but you probably oughtn't think about it too hard. I wasn't thinking straight. Probably wasn't making any sense."

"Nah, you didn't say anything too strange. ...ah mean, you were pretty drunk, but it didn't sound to me like you were confessin' a crime or anything like that. Just rambling about somethin'-or-other." Engineer shrugged and managed a benign smile, pretending it wasn't anything to be concerned about. Blinking owlishly at him from behind tinted lenses, Sniper nodded slowly and seemed to sag a little.

"Right, nothin' like that. Good, that's... it's good t'know." He rubbed his forehead again and sat quietly for a few moments, looking at his feet.

Engineer found the silence uncomfortable, and wondered if the marksman was waiting for something to happen. He also wondered if he should say any more on the matter himself; if his suspicions were right, discussing it further could open some fresh wounds, but he was also guiltily aware that his own trepidations were keeping him from helping his friend. (Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe it's not what I think at all, and I'm getting worked up over nothing. If I can figure out a way to ask him without giving anything away, that'd save both of us some trouble, wouldn't it?) Just as he started mentally rehearsing his next words, Sniper spoke again.

"Look, I- maybe I don't remember things right, but I think... didn't you say that if I needed to talk, you'd lend me an ear?" Engineer nodded, and swallowed audibly. Sniper took his aviators off and pressed his fingertips against his eyelids, then took a deep breath. "Your me best mate here and I don't wanna'- don't wanna' horrify you, but I need to talk to someone, someone I can trust not to... nngh, to do anything worse than be disgusted by me."

He gave a shaky sigh and buried his face in his hands for a moment; Engineer was strangely terrified that he had started to cry, but realized after a moment that he was just trying to steel himself for some sort of confession. It didn't help much that the American was pretty certain about what it was going to be, even though a sense of dread was tightening around his throat for different reasons than what Sniper was probably imagining. Engineer didn't feel disgust for the man, but familiarity with his pain, with the awful thing that neither of them could admit to himself.

Sniper lowered his hands, finally revealing his face to Engineer; his small, hawkish eyes were rheumy and dark-ringed from fatigue, not to mention the hangover he was suffering. The expression on his face, however, was sane and sober. "I rang up my mum the other day, to- y'know, have a chat, let 'er know I'm still alive and well. Don't talk much with either of my parents 'cos they don't agree with our line of work, but they... she still cares for me. I'm their only child. Dad had a lot of hopes an' dreams lined up for me when I were young, and I reckon I prettymuch failed at livin' up to all of them. ...mum were never demanding, but- Christ, you know what mothers are like, truckie? 'ere I am, heading on forty, an' she's got nothin' to show for 'er work of raising me except letters and a couple souvenirs." Now tears threatened to start from his eyes, and he paused for a moment to grimace, to wipe them away until the moment passed.

Engineer was still fraught with anxiety and his own sense of self-denial, but compassion for his friend was finally winning out over the mores and stubborn stoicism that had prompted so much guilty inaction from him beforehand. He rose from his desk and approached Sniper, reaching out to place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Say what you gotta' say," he said softly. "I ain't in a position to get judgmental."

Even bleary with emotion, Sniper's gaze was sharp as a diamond; he seemed to hesitate for a long moment, scrutinizing Engineer's face for any hint of impending betrayal. He frowned pensively and bit his lip, then continued. "So I'm talking with her about this and that, and she starts askin' me The Question. Y'know the one I'm talking about... 'why aren't you married yet?' 'when are you gonna settle down and raise a family?' 'who's gonna run the family farm when we're too old to?' That sort of thing. It's not like I- I mean, I never wanted to make 'er unhappy. Not like I never looked at women, or thought about marriage. But blokes like me aren't..." He trailed off for a moment, frowning. "I'm not suited to it. Me work's not right for it, and- and I'm not right for it. ...agh, I don't even know how to say this!" Sniper tensed up and put a hand over his face, scowling, dumb with frustration.

If he was wrong, Engineer knew, he was probably in for a black eye- or worse. But every fiber of his being was telling him he wasn't. Quietly and calmly as he could, Engineer spoke. "You're a queer?"

Sniper stared at Engineer, wide-eyed, his mouth slightly ajar with shock. The surface of his face was still, but behind it a storm of emotions was raging, too powerful to be contained for long. The Texan squared his jaw and prepared for whatever was about to come; he was twisted with angst inside, but he knew that if Sniper was a true friend, something like this wouldn't tear them apart for good. A flurry of movement made him flinch in surprise, long arms suddenly lashing out towards him, but he didn't back off- he had more pride than that. Then he felt the pressure of Sniper squeezing him in a desperate bear-hug, felt the other man's face buried against his shoulder, felt hot tears soaking through his work shirt. The smell of cigarette smoke burned at his tonsils. Sniper gave a shuddering sigh of relief, then went silent aside from the faint, choked sounds of his breathing.

Engineer sagged against Sniper and wrapped an arm across his shoulders, gently patting the back of his neck with a free hand. "There, now... You take all the time you need ta pull yourself together. I'm here for ya."

They didn't say too much after that, but the effect their conversation had on Sniper was almost tangible; even looking sad and sober as he did, his demeanor was one of overwhelming relief, like an inner tube that had burst under overwhelming pressure and was lying crumpled in the aftermath, deflated but intact. On the other hand, Engineer felt emotionally divided- while he'd managed to bring his friend the comfort and reassurance that was desperately needed, and reaffirmed his own trust in gut instinct, he still couldn't bring himself to confess his own feelings to Sniper. He mulled over the situation, even as he was smiling gently and sending Sniper off with the confidence that his secret was safe. (Maybe later, I'll work up the nerve. Maybe he'll ask why it didn't freak me out to know he's a deviant. Dammit, maybe I'll just stop trying to hide and admit it...)


After the day's battle was lost and won, after the innumerable bloody wounds were banished to memory by the arcane workings of modern science, and the smoke had cleared from the barren desert where these men's lives were as fleeting as their deaths, Sniper looked down from the battlements and lit a cigarette. Evening was coming on quickly. The sun had started to retreat behind the RED base, and the building cast deep shadows; a black chasm cut across the landscape between Sniper's perch and the battlefield. Even though his instincts told him the battlements were a natural place to have your skull perforated by an enemy sniper, he couldn't look away from the inscrutable darkness just below him. It looked like an honest-to-God bottomless pit.

"Suicide would only be temporary in zis place," said a voice from out of nowhere.

Sniper's whole body twitched, but he managed not to gratify the RED Spy with any other expressions of surprise. "Ain't thinkin' of it," he grunted, frowning through a haze of cigarette smoke. "Just lookin'. ...'ere, why don't you stop hiding so I can give you a shove?"

Spy sniffed indignantly, transforming from a reddish visual distortion to a man in a pinstriped suit. "You 'ave been so moody for ze past day or two, I was concerned you were planning to jump. It would make a terrible mess- for a few moments, anyhow."

"Look, is there a reason you're disturbin' my peace and quiet?" Sniper asked, finally turning to give Spy a nonplussed look. He was starting to feel irritated.

"I don't believe I've been forbidden from visiting zis part of ze base, bushman. I 'ave as much of a right to be 'ere as anyone." He smirked at the other man. In the dim light, his cigarette glowed like a dragon's mouth, throwing the angles of his face into harsh silhouette. Spy took a few steps towards Sniper, still smiling. "As for 'why', I 'ad a question for you... a proposition, I suppose you could call it."

The Australian's body stiffened slightly, a wary animal meeting the gaze of a predator. "You sneaky bastard... what is it? What d'you want from me?"

Spy rolled his eyes dramatically, and gave a drawn-out sigh. "So misanthropic! It is no mystery zat 'alf of ze people you work with can't stand being around you, mon ami. Now 'ear me out, I haven't come to make enemies with you. I simply wish to ensure our... necessities are tended to, hmm? You are a practical man. You are also a man who enjoys 'is privacy from ze rest of zese b tes we deal with on a daily basis."

"Get to the bloody point," Sniper growled. His posture was rigid as before, but he could feel his heart pounding, and sweat creeping down his back. The tasteless mess-hall dinner he'd devoured thoughtlessly was churning in his stomach.

"I know what you are 'iding." The masked man's lip curled slightly as a sound of disbelief escaped Sniper. "Don't blame your friend ze Engineer, 'e didn't tell me. I just 'appened to overhear your conversation."

Sniper lunged for Spy before he could react, clamping a large hand around his throat and smashing him back against the wall. The cool demeanor that Sniper had maintained up until this point had evaporated, boiled away by an upwelling of blazing fury, and he gave his team-mate another slam before leaning in close to the mask. His face twisted with rage, lips pulled back in a wolfish snarl, fangs bared. It took him a moment to find words for the situation. "If you're fuckin' blackmailing me, stop prancing around and t-" He paused, wincing, then spat out the rest of the sentence. "Tell me what you're after."

Winded from the blow, Spy actually gaped wordlessly at Sniper for a few seconds before he recovered his composure. The smirk returned to his face. "Mssr. Mundy, zere is no reason to be losing your temper. As long as we cooperate, I can guarantee ze others will never find out. What I ask in return is nothing zat would effect your work... we are both professionals, oui? It will be a business arrangement of sorts, no more. Now..." He lifted a hand and placed it against Sniper's forearm, caressing the tanned skin with a gloved thumb. "If you would kindly remove your 'and from my throat, we can discuss ze matter in more detail."

The aviators Sniper wore had slipped from their place, and he glared murderously over the dark lenses, breathing heavily. He felt as though he was being torn apart inside, mentally more than physically; his self-control was dangerously close to lapsing. There were a dozen unpleasant things he wanted to say, but he couldn't seem to find his voice, couldn't articulate himself. Spy arched an eyebrow and clicked his tongue impatiently, and that was what did it for Sniper's temper. A rush of adrenaline flooded his body, a burst of energy that spurred him to lift the other man off his feet and bodily hurl him from the ramparts. Spy's wide eyed expression of shock seemed to linger in the dying light, a ghost-image of the man's face hovering before the landscape's red rocks, haunting Sniper like 'The Scream'.

The dull crunch of a body hitting the ground below was telling- Spy was dead, at least for a minute or two. As he came down from the rush of animal fury that had driven him on, Sniper turned back and leaned against the wall for support, feeling sick and light-headed. (What the hell have I done? He's gonna' have me by the cobblers now... Christ, I'd better get to the respawn chamber before he can tell the whole base about this.) Choking down the bile that stung at the back of his throat, Sniper scowled and hurried inside.


Spy emerged from respawn just as Sniper arrived, looking much less friendly than before. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but before he could get a word out Sniper shoved him back into the room, following right after and securing the door behind them. It felt like Sniper's heart had become a permanent fixture in his trachea, but he did his best to swallow the knot away and prepared for some world-class groveling.

(No,) he thought anxiously as he considered the word. (Not groveling. ...bargaining. Right, that's what I was thinking of. Bargaining.)

The expression on Spy's face was souring as the moments ticked by, and when his patience ran out he grabbed Sniper by the collar and yanked him forwards, striking the Australian hard across the face. "Fils de putain! I come to you with a perfectly reasonable business proposition, and you throw me off a fucking balcony? 'ave you lost your mind?" He gave Sniper another open-handed slap, which seemed to jostle him back to his senses; he stared raptly as Spy continued his tirade. "If I were a less reasonable man, our negotiations would be over! I promise you zat in ten- no, five minutes, I could see to it zat every man on zis base knows about your depravity..." The red mask hovered inches away from Sniper's face, hot with anger and the lingering odour of cigarette smoke. Spy's voice was low and deadly serious as he released the other man, and straightened his tie. "I own you now. You should consider your next words wisely."

"You're- I- I j-just lost me temper, that's all!" Sniper stammered, and immediately regretted it. (Nice going, Mundy, I'm sure you could've done better than that.) The RED Spy appeared to be nonplussed by this explanation, which didn't do much for his confidence. Wringing his hands together, Sniper tried to think of ways to talk the other man down, and did his best to ignore the darkness creeping around the edges of his vision. "Look, mate, h-how 'bout we have a smoke and talk this over, okay? You're, uh, you want me to pull some sorta' favours for you, right? And I- well, I..."

"You don't want to zese men to know you are a 'omosexual," Spy sniffed, reaching into a pocket for his cigarette case. "Come. We will discuss zis somewhere less public." He sidestepped Sniper and opened the door, then gestured for the marksman to accompany him; Sniper did wordlessly, shaking one of his own cigarettes out of its packet and lightning it with an unsteady hand.


Nobody saw them on their trip through the base, and when they arrived at a neatly decorated room in the dormitory wing, Sniper realized that it was Spy's bedroom. There was no paraphernalia relating to his line of work in here- presumably that was all kept somewhere much more secretive- which left room for a tea-table and some other personal effects. After locking the door, Spy pulled out a chair and sat, then cleared his throat, waiting for his guest to do the same. Sniper stood like a lost child for a moment, dazed and confused, then hastily took a seat across from Spy.

"It seems you 'ave yet to fully appreciate ze situation you are in, Mssr. Mundy. Take your vest off. Out 'ere in ze desert, away from ze comforts of a more civilized setting, per'aps some men would not be so disgusted by ze likes of you. Zis is practically a prison, after all! Why, if you were fortunate, zey might just see you as an outlet for ze..." Spy lingered on that sentence and drew in a lungful of cigarette smoke, watched it hang in the air as he exhaled. "...frustrations a man experiences, when zere are no real women to speak of. Now ze shirt. Remove it. Even if zat were ze case, though, would you honestly want to be objectified by everyone? To be seen as ze designated group bitch? I wasn't making a joke, mon ami- take your fucking shirt off. Ze pants too, while you are at it."

Sniper's awkward hesitation turned to alarm as the Spy's intentions began to crystalize; whatever he had in mind, it was going to be humiliating at best, and painful at worst. Anger surged in his chest, and he found himself glaring at Spy, even as he started half-heartedly unbuttoning his shirt. "I don't trust you one bit, you horrible little wanker. How'm I supposed to believe you won't out me after you've 'ad your fun, eh?"

Ever the chameleon, Spy transformed before his eyes into a picture of bonhomie, of interested glances and a familiar sort of grin. He shivered, even as some part of him was put at ease by this change. "Mon cher, whatever would I 'ave to gain from doing zat? Look at me, you know I am a man of ze world, a man who 'as seen more, tasted more forbidden fruits, than even ze likes of you could ever dream of. Yet 'ere I am, pursuing you." Spy set his cigarette down in the ashtray, then rose to his feet and came closer to Sniper, an alluring smile still playing across his lips. "Why would I be doing such a thing? I know you and ze other men on zis base are satisfied to pull-off and look at dirty pictures, but I 'ave so much more taste and self-restraint." He reached into Sniper's open shirtfront and started tugging the garment down, even before it was completely unbuttoned, entangling the tall man's arms in the process. As Sniper cursed and wrestled with the fabric, Spy pressed a fingertip into the wiry hair over his breastbone, and traced a cool line up until the gloved hand was at his chin, tilting his face to meet its owner's.

"You are 'ere because I want you, you crass, rugged man. Ever since ze first day we fought alongside each other, I 'ave wanted you," he said, his voice husky with desire.

"Jesus flippin' Christ," Sniper whispered, staring over his glasses frames at the shape-shifter, his expression one of utter disbelief. He hadn't been interested in Spy when they first met, and his feelings on the matter were still the same- while the Frenchman was not exactly unattractive, he was a deceitful bastard by his very profession, and even when off the job his behaviour was marked by snobbish secrecy and a disinterest in doing any more than the bare minimum required of him to keep the base running. Even if his flowery story of harbouring an unrequited infatuation with Sniper were true, this was still extortion of the basest kind. Thoughts and feelings surrounding this betrayal were twisting like a knife in Sniper's chest. (Any way I look at it, this is rotten business! Blackmailing a co-worker is low, even for a professional bloody backstabber. What the hell am I going to do?)

Trying to consider his alternatives sent pangs of hopelessness through Sniper's body- the only superior they answered to was the Administrator, and she seemed even more dodgy than Spy. Moreover, explaining his grievances while keeping face would be impossible. (Being a fairy can get you put away back home, and I'm pretty fucking certain it's frowned on here, too.) While the RED company had enough legal heft that local governments politely ignored the organized bloodshed their employees engaged in on a daily basis, it seemed unlikely to Sniper that his employers would care to shelter him from persecution- if they didn't just fire him on the spot. He sagged in his chair, feeling powerless while Spy undid his belt buckle and started unzipping his pants.

(And Spy, that damned Spy...) Whatever his personal feelings for the secret agent were, Sniper knew the man's touch was starting to get to him. It had been so long since he'd been with someone like this, too long for his body to resist temptation and the promise of someone's hot breath against his bare chest. Spy pushed the table away and kneeled before him, then grazed an exposed nipple with his teeth, caressed Sniper's flanks with those leather-clad hands and gave a quiet chuckle as his captive groaned.

"You are... what is ze expression, 'going commando'? I shouldn't be surprised."

"Dunno what the hell you're talking about," Sniper growled and glared at the ceiling, but he was panting now, his body aching with need. The open front of the marksman's trousers revealed everything; Spy grasped him with a hand that was suddenly ungloved, and lovingly teased him with the light touches of fingertips and the edges of manicured nails. "Ah- God, mate, be careful w-" An undignified cry escaped Sniper as he felt Spy's tongue on his sensitive flesh.

Spy was doing unspeakable things with his mouth, wearing away at Sniper's objections to this arrangement- for the time being, at least. As he paused to catch his breath and disentangle the bushman's hands from his shirt, Spy looked up, his face smouldering with arousal. "Whatever 'appened to all ze 'arsh words you were giving me earlier, mignon? Look at me when I talk to you. You will enjoy zis. Hmmmhmhm, I can practically taste ze neglect your body 'as suffered..."

Weak words of dissent started from Sniper's tongue, and died as he looked down to see Spy devouring his length without a moment's hesitation. He bit his lip hard and tried to stifle the noises that rose in his chest, as each bit of movement from the masked gentleman sent waves of pleasure through his body. Spy's hands wandered the sensitive skin of his throat for a while then crept lower, kneading the sore muscles of his back, pinching at his nipples, before tracing a path down his ribs and attending to the marksman's inner thighs. "Hnngh- awfuck, just... lemme off this chair, and, and do whatever it is you wanna' do t'me," he growled, digging his fingers into the arm-rests. "Enough with th'bloody teasing..."

"You are in no position to make demands," Spy murmured, his lips and breath brushing hotly against the other man's exposed skin, drawing forth a shuddering groan from overhead. "Zis just 'appens to be ze first of many things I want to do to you. Mmmmmh, mon cher... I would love to violate every part of you, and make you scream in pleasure as I do. I believe I will..."