Stupid man. As though it wasn't fucking clear what had happened? It wasn't as though they were an exclusive couple. Chris hadn't made any particular stipulation to what defined the perimeters of their relationship, but then he didn't need to. Piers Nivans was Assistant Team Leader to Alpha team, that made him owned. Since the day he'd joined in his early twenties, it was clear who it was that the tawny haired sniper belonged to even before he'd made him partner. As a rule of thumb, youthful sharpened orbs never turned away from their captain, nor did he make an effort to get to know or care for any one person in Alpha but him. As callous as it was to say, Alpha Team was the hardest unit to get into, with a reputation of coming home light after every mission by at least one casualty, sometimes more. It didn't matter how good Chris was, or how sharp Piers was, someone would do something stupid. Meaning no one else on that team mattered. Piers had been his little rookie, another in the long line of people that wound up dead, so getting involved on either of their sides wasn't at all a priority on their front. It wasn't as though he'd hand picked the sniper either. Their relationship had merely begun as a soldier under his ranking officer, but after so many missions of everyone dying but the two of them, it couldn't be helped to look at the sniper with more intention than previously. They got closer, got to know one another, and their quirks. And they did so without words. Captain Commie needed to grill someone to get information from them; Piers knew Chris without a single word. In fact, neither needed to speak. Everything had been... right. So yeah, Chris knew exactly when Piers' cocksure disregard for the communist thief had changed from duty into something more twisted, even if they thought they were being discreet. And no, Chris didn't care.. not at first.

It wasn't shocking. Piers was drawn to strong people. The first time Chris had met him that had become clear. All those missions they'd gone on and the resentment the rookie sniper showed for his team mates; it didn't take a genius. Piers didn't get along with people, and didn't play nice with others, that was unless the captain was speaking. If Captain Redfield opened his mouth, that boy was at attention with his eyes glued on him and his fingers clutching his rifle so hard Chris questioned if the young man was either in shock or awe-struck. It was only after the third time or so when the captain took advantage of it and stood beside him, could he see the hero-worship in the eyes as he chewed the inside of that full, bow-shaped bottom tier. Those gorgeous lips. He hadn't failed to notice them or how they formed a perfect 'O' just meant for him to plunder. Or how whenever they stood together, his sniper would pop his hip and cup it with that diligent hand in that smarmy way he had as though egging for attention. The rhythmic way he'd stand and move. All the more amusing because in the presence of his captain, the boy couldn't move he was paralyzed once his captain's attention was on him. Missions were another story. He was impressive, sharp, all the things Chris wanted in a partner. So hell yes he'd taken advantage. Boy was fucking beautiful. Built like the perfect soldier, with loyalty only to his captain. The sure shot way of pinning every enemy from miles away. It wasn't a mistake getting him the anti-material rifle he had. No that was no mistake. After that there was no one who came between them and after the first mission, when Piers' had nailed that sweet shot that saved Chris' life?

Once they'd met up again, and the chips were down, Chris couldn't help himself. Yeah it wasn't right for a captain to take advantage that way, but there was nothing stopping him from shoving Piers into an old broken down building and forcing him to his knees. Though force would have implied that the kid didn't willingly drop when the captain shoved his palms down on those lithe shoulders; tear open his utility belt, fatigues, and shove aside the remaining layers of undergarments to free his long aching cock. And Piers wasn't some sweet little thing with reserves about what he was doing. He worshiped Chris, parted those pouted lips and swallowed every inch of him into that tightly heated throat, hidden behind the scarf he wore. That had brought him to the realization he'd had to have that always hidden flesh. Enough saliva greasing up his cock; he'd pulled the kid to his feet still coughing, and bent him over the nearest object so he could bury himself inside, balls deep in the kid and popped his cherry. He'd jerked on that scarf enough to choke his sniper but it served its purpose to shut him up while he fucked him until keening died down from the cries of agony from Chris' huge cock. That mesh was a great leash for fucking his boy until he'd freed it and thrown it aside, latching lips and teeth to the back of his neck while thrusting in and out of that sinfully tempting body. 'Shut up soldier.' He remembered the commands. Hearing the sweet sounds of Piers stifling every moan and gasp, as Chris ravaged him until he sated himself and let a huge load fill the inside of the boy's body and leak down his thighs. What's more, the kid jerked up his fatigues and passed him the sultry beaten smile when told to get back to the mission; as though nothing had just happened between them; gripping his rifle and taking it in stride. After that display, it had to happen again. And happen again, and again and again. Whenever they were alone together. Hell he didn't have to be alone with him. Piers was his. Stand beside him and the sexual tension oozed between them with so much ease all that his captain had to do was speak a command and it made his sniper weak in the knees. He could have him whenever, and where he wanted.

Stupid Russian. He really though that a couple of one night stands was really going to bother Chris. No... what bothered him, was that hitch in his sniper's voice the other day when Luka brushed his hand over the small of his back. The report he made with all the nuances of the time he'd made Piers call in their report once before, to Headquarter's while Chris was fucking him so hard he couldn't breath. Impressive control. He'd taught Piers everything he knew, and to think that Chris didn't know when someone was fucking around with what belonged to him? That was what bothered him. What bothered him more? When Piers got comfortable enough with the russian that it made his skin dace like only Chris could do. As though he didn't know the softer undertones that hid in that tenor sweet voice while he was being taken advantage of. Luka was a fool. That beautiful piece of work he was pawing like a fifth grade girl had an owner, one that had done all the little things before him. The only reason Piers let it happen was because of the fight. Yeah he'd been drinking a lot lately, but his partner would too if he lost basically everything to a megalomaniac asshole in South Africa. They fought, and blondie reminded Piers of the way Chris use to touch him. Russian was too stupid to think all those little moves he pulled; throwing him up against everything and anything, was a first for Piers. He'd done way more with that pretty boy than Luka could ever think of trying. Fucking was one thing though. Piers had needs, hell so did Chris. And Chris was bi. Piers knew that. They'd slept around before... No. That's what bugged him. Chris had slept around before. Piers didn't. Wouldn't. Perfect little soldier belonged to him, and no one else. No one else was good enough for Piers. He was devoted.

That was until Luka. Tall, blond, and exotic, with just the right amount of damage. The only man he'd ever seen chase after Piers so desperately. Like Piers was some kind of gem. He's a fucking soldier, not a princess. Fuck if the Russian hadn't chased him so hard, Piers would likely have thrown a grenade at the guy by now and it would be done. But the communist moron set the tempo. He had Piers leading and that was his downfall. Piers didn't lead. He followed. He wasn't a soldier for no reason at all. He let Piers pick to fight. When Chris was with Piers, there was no fight. They would from time to time go at it like pitbulls, simply because the testosterone between them was akin to a Chinese wall. But Chris beat Piers to the ground without restraint. He didn't go tit for tat counters with someone he'd trained the moves to. He dominated him and overpowered him with the bulging muscles he graced, and twisted that lithe body in his hands until Piers couldn't move accept to beg him to take him. So it came down to that. Luka was playing a being a pussyfooted version of himself, only he was looking to take something he could never have. That being said, it made this all the more enjoyable.

"Rose go in from the right flank, Airhart, you take the left, take the rookie with you, so he doesn't get lost." Handing out orders to his men, one at a time, with that all commanding tone as they looked on over the diagrams that were laid out before them by Rose's data holos. "Commie, you take point. Map out the area, give your team back home something to laugh about later on." Both insult and compliment, not lost on the blond who was watching the body language between the captain and his partner with vicious intent. Chris was leaned just the slightest with hulking shoulders over Piers' left shoulder, no full contact whatsoever, but enough that his breath was on the nape of the sniper's neck, hidden just by the mesh fabric that laid camouflage to a litany of marks. Ones Chris' knew were there, and made a point of eying for Luka to watch as his men mapped their routes. "Soldier, with me." The words sparked fire behind hazel eyes, replied by with just a brief nod, jaw clenched tight as Chris continued details. Stupid commie bastard. It was too amusing watching those icy eyes narrow and chase the tremors of goosebumps that ran up ferociously up Piers' only showing forearm flesh the longer they stood side by side. Or the forceful intent that filled Chris' voice, demanding and commanding so completely. Luka was a captain, he should have known how to do this, he just didn't know it was what Piers liked. And now he did. The barest few inches were left between them while calling off man after man to depart, intentionally growling in the sniper's ear just behind him. Their bodies were less than a foot apart, with Piers' rifle hugged across his chest to clutch to something at every rumbled command, nothing on his face apparent except from what Chris had learned to read. Piers always tried to hide himself behind that stoic demeanor, but in fact he over compensated, and got the clenched jaw, tight swallow. It was all about the body language that was taut and visibly tense.

Intentionally making his partner face forward so he couldn't see his captain, Chris took a minute step back, loud enough to be heard. It was part of that tact; playing cat and mouse. Except the mouse was being watched by every member of their team so he couldn't react, just stand at attention, just like his captain wanted. "Call in your kills, make sure each one is accounted for." He intentionally called Piers soldier, his posture rigid. That particular name was one that he had learned sent electric straight through Piers' nerves to his groin, every time. Luka wouldn't have gotten his attention with a sign in bold print. The sniper couldn't do anything but hold his breath. In a way he should have thanked Luka, for making this all the more enjoyable to torment Piers; and he did, saluting him half-assed from behind the soldier before nodding him off, sarcastic smile in place. To his credit Luka said and did nothing, apart from nod. It was that 'get lost expression,' while they all turned on their coms to the right settings and headed out. There was a reason he let Luka lead the team into this mission. First being it wasn't that hard, just routine shit that H.Q. got off on sending them on. That and it gave him time to be alone discipline that tawny haired adolescent.

"Know why I let Rusky take the team today?" Chris watched Piers' roll his shoulders just the slightest, canting his head to the side to see the captain's mahogany eyes raking over his back. It had the desired effect, swallowing the lump in his throat and turning to face forward with the wordless command. That body was dancing under his eyes without ever moving, the tone putting tremors over those sure hands. "I'm generous That's why. Besides, its come to my attention solider, that you've been lax in your judgement lately. You need more... guidance from your captain..., don't you?"

"I... No captain, I-

"Shut up." His voice was deathly low, sending the desired tremor Piers, watching the sucked in pinch of those smooth cheeks. He did owe Luka. Sometimes, he forgot how sexy his sniper was. How sweet the contours of his body felt as he completely dominated him. "When I want you to talk I'll goddamn tell you soldier. If I wanted your opinion, I'd fucking ask for it. You think I'm blind? That I wouldn't notice? You think I'd be jealous of that communist? Trust me soldier, I'm not." He snarled in Piers' ear, admiring how fingers took a tighter grip on the trigger guard of his rifle, eyes threatening to wince shut at the forceful tone. "What is there to be jealous of? That he has to force you to fuck him. I own you soldier. I don't need to pussy foot with you, boy." Tightly pursed lips parted with a sharp intake of breath, Chris watching how hard it was for Piers to stay facing forward. His thigh gave that half tremor from the struggle of staying still the closer Chris got, the inches he had started to close. "You think I don't goddamn know what he's been doing?" Rough calloused palms moved deliberately, never touching that olive tone flesh that he wanted to tear into. Instead he found mesh fabric at his neck, hearing the grimace from his partner as it was cleaved from his throat, displaying the array of marks, as the fabric was stuffed into one of Piers' hands, hanging dishonorably lopsided between his fingers, as hazel orbs flicked everywhere and anywhere to hid his shame.

Chris circled like a grizzled lion, stalking round him with shoulders rotating in outrage at the indignation of the complete ruin on his partner's neck. He'd seen the hickey on the back of his throat plain and clear, but teeth scrapping, mouth marks, deep purpled bruising showed everywhere, and the longer he paced his pray the longer he could see every detail of motley flesh. Temper surged as knitting caused a crease between thicker brows, and a snarled lip curled up to reveal sharp white teeth, stopping behind Piers. The visible tremor was assuring, and he gulp as he eyed marred flesh, licking his lip. "You want this soldier? Wasn't getting enough attention from your captain? You want him? Or is it just another cheap substitute because you can't ever get enough of me?" There was no pause between questions, just hot breath on his neck. "You need a goddamn lesson in judgement soldier. Lesson one..." Able hands grappled the rifle from his hand and threw it without care to the ground, joining the disregarded shotgun that belonged to pointman. Rogue color filtered to smooth cheeks at the jarring action, head snapping to gaze at the weapon with a vehement growl on the tip of his tongue; cut off by a huge mitt wrapping around his throat and squeezing he noise out, body slammed with tremendous force into the closest wall. Feet dangling, the other hand snapped out, gripping the fabric between Piers' tone legs, hearing the sweet sound of that euphoric cry. "Who's your daddy?"

Sweat beads negotiated a path from tawny hairline, down Piers' face, features grimacing in pleasure as full lips fell agape, unable to his the yelp that escaped his throat when his entire body contracted. Red dashed its mark across olive skin, making those smooth cheeks all the more dusky as Chris ground his palm against his length, digging in his point as fluids clung to his inner legs, slowly lowered at the softer whimper; tactical gear and flak jacket clinging to the wall as he scrapped down it to his feet. Poised at his throat, the hand that held him up slid beside Piers' visage, hazy eyes locked on the bulging muscle of his captain's forearm, down he length of it as his bicep twitched. "Feel that soldier? You want to be weak?... I'll show you weak." The thick musky scent of Chris filled Piers' nostrils as teeth sank into his throat, rough lips parting to worry and gnaw tender muscles; thready moans on the fringes of openly moaning until blood was draw and it turned to a hiss of pain, scruff rubbing flesh red and he continued to tear at Piers' throat, feeling the gentle struggle before more of a jerk. One swift hand found a hunched over shoulder, gripping its mound of taut sinew, and the other the forearm that protruded on contact. A little pressure and teeth relinquished as Piers cried out, a backhanded drawn fist flexing his huge arm before silencing the sniper on contact, breaking the skin at his lip and knocking his head to the side. "Shut it soldier. I don't want to hear it. None of that whimpering bullshit. Shut your fucking mouth a take it." Chris was a hulk, pecs taut from having reached across his body to strike the soldier who recovered with ease. That was how Chris liked it, rough, and that was how Piers liked him. Thin lips forcing a passionate kiss to the broken flesh at that swelling lip, biting it once before two huge hands gripped lean shoulders and spun him, face hitting the wall as on hand slammed between shoulder blades to pin that body to the wall, the other gripping a handful of that tight ass. "You're already a fucking mess. All it takes me me to touch you once. Well time to relearn lesson two boy."

Trim legs, firm and supple in his hand as Chris pushed down from that cheek in his hand getting a good feel over Piers' inner thigh, familiar with the smothered moan, so eager for more contact the more his rough pads gripped, harder and harder along that inner thigh until he was leaving bruises. Piers still riding the orgasmic high of Chris' attention. Poor stupid communist brat. Thought he could win this war? There wasn't eve a battle to be had. He'd switched on his com and had Luka's on the same channel long before the mission, just so he could listen in on all those sweet urgent sounds for more. That bastard couldn't say shit and he knew it. There was nothing but to listen as Chris took everything Luka wanted. "Undo your fatigues. Now." The sound of fingers struggling instantly with clips and rigs of his standard gear, custom to a fault filtered between ragged breathes, stumbling every time Chris would give a squeeze to his inner thigh, until finally their position at his hips were compromised. The sudden slack fabric from the loosened belt, came with a forceful kick, spreading Piers' legs further apart, gripping synthetic fiber in one hand and jerking it so tight it made that fetter groan eke by with a hiss, gripping the other strap used to tighten his rigs at his right and cinching the grey gear straining to dig into flesh, the stinging that bloomed causing water at the corners of observant eyes that snapped shut at the gesture. Giving a slap to the round globe that he'd been coveting, Chris leaned forward using his colossal chest to pin the younger man in place, undoing his own restrictive gear. "Whenever I want, and where ever I goddamn say." Tactical pants dropped free around Chris' knees, hands delving to the front of that firm slender body and shoving them inside open fatigues, one hand weaving its fingers in a suffocating grip around Piers' cock, the other shoving fabric away and down to be caught by rigging to imprison the sniper, grinning devilishly at the fluids that coated his fingers. "You really did cum for me when I grabbed you. Missed me, didn't you solder?" Freed fabric bore flesh against flesh, Chris' hefty girth springing free from boxerbriefs; rubbing against that full tight ass, betwixt his cheeks. One hand raised in front of the sniper's mouth, hips steadily gyrating to feel the slide of warm flesh pushing; seeking the ring of tight muscle he wanted to fuck bloody, and how it twitched when his cock nudged at his entrance. "Tell me you want it, soldier."

"I want you! Captain please."

Chris grinned ear to ear. He hoped Luka heard that. How fast Piers was to pipe up and beg with that ragged tortured voice when Chris told him to, holding his palm out. "Spit." Lips pursed, saliva spat in the palm of Chris' hand. Fingers briefly visiting those sweet full lips before urgency to have him took over. Hips pushed back away from contact just briefly, hand pumping over his cock watching Piers pop his ass for him, looking back over his shoulder while the captain continued to beat himself off drinking in the sight. Ponderous shoulders rolled, as his loins tightened, hand flying with ever more fervor, Piers burying his face in the crook of his elbow for support only to have it jerked back so his neck was craned; grunting at the snap of anger his joint made, eyes taking in the sky as a furious pace continued, Chris' voice hitched. "Say it again baby." That was a true first. Calling Piers by that pet name like they were in a relationship more than sex. But they were, Piers belonged to him, about time the stubborn soldier knew it. "Say it again or I'm not giving you shit."

"No, captain, please. Chris, please don't wait, just take me. Fuck I'm a soldier, I can take it. I don't care if it hurts, I need it to hurt."

Chris didn't hesitate, every action and move was deliberate and sharp. "Good boy." Chris growled, biting the flesh of tan skin and ripping at it, marking everything Luka had put on him as he guided himself with one hand to that tight ring of muscle, rubbing his cock against Piers' entrance, up and down, and feeling the twitch of anticipation from that sweet orifice. "Suck it up soldier." Heat enveloped his entire body as Chris' thick, spit greased cock, jabbed up inside the young sniper. Fingers released his base as his cock head delved deeper, pinning youthful hips against the wall by shoving his palm in the small of his back, burying himself to the hilt in one heavy thrust. "Fuck Piers, your so tight..." It was a rule when captain and A.T.L. were graphic that they didn't speak. Chris would talk, but Piers' tenor voice was muffled into an entirely too audible noise for Luka to hear, a yelp of ecstasy and pain all in one. The russia could eat his heart out. Let him hear how huge Chris was, and just who's whore Piers' really was, grinding and fucking him without restraint into the wall. He'd almost forgotten how good it felt having Piers stifling his moans and pushing back for more at every thrust, meeting his intensity until it was just grunting and the sound of flesh slapping flesh. Sinking his cock in him with erratic pace, Chris growled in Piers' ear, biting down on his neck again to mark him and claim the sniper as his until he felt Piers body tighten around his cock and that sweet tight orifice hug him to him, crying out silently. "Fucking eager aren't you. Its been too long, you can't even hold back." Chris grinned, malicious as he jerked out of that hot cavity that clung to him. "Get on your knees and finish the job."

Luka I apologize!