A/N: Apologies for the wait, guys! Here's an extra long chapter to try and make up for it. Thank you so much for all the reviews/follows/favorites, everyone - they're always appreciated!

Another day and the bruises were still the same darkened shade of purple, with rows of red marks hidden away under fabrics of clothing. Piers sighed, finding himself standing back in front of the mirror for the fourth time that morning. He was about ready to head back to base; raw or not, Piers Nivans was never one to stray away from his job for more time than what was necessary. Although, in this specific case, even he would admit that he was pushing it; but damn it, he was a soldier. He could handle it.

It was just facing Chris again that would be the problem.

Piers had barely gotten himself off the hook the day before, and he was certain that the Captain would have more than a handful of new questions that he would have to try and evade... Or lie his way through. Piers didn't want to fall into the habit of doing that, but he couldn't let Chris know what happened. If he did, there was no telling how the older man would react - especially if he found out just how Piers felt about the whole situation.

The sniper forced himself to turn away from his reflected image, holding back another heavy exhale. He'd do whatever he had to. After grabbing his jacket, he was already on his way out.

When he'd arrived back at the base, he caught the same curious stares eyeing him as he passed by. Piers ignored them and continued on to prepare himself, stopping to grab all his gear from the locker where he equipped it. Everything was fitted into place in record time, although Finn just happened to enter on his way out, and the rookie instantly greeted him with wide eyes. Piers narrowed his own in warning, and the demolitionist nodded frantically before his gaze dropped to the floor. The ace exited the room in silence, leaving the young soldier alone in the room.

"Piers!"

The voice had the sniper stiffen on the spot, and he turned around to see Chris approaching. Stern features kept their disguise as hazel met brown, "Captain."

Chris slowed to a stop just in front of him, eyeing him thoroughly. Piers nearly fidgeted, but fought himself to keep his composure. "Are you sure you should be-"

"I'm fine."

Chris raised an eyebrow at the answer, and Piers could have shot himself in the teeth at how defensively it had come out. He swallowed, "Really."

The older man sighed, "You're not in the best shape. If you need the break, Piers, take it. Don't push yourself."

If only it were really that simple. "I wouldn't be here if I couldn't handle it, Captain." Piers nearly cringed after the words came out of his mouth. He'd said said the exact same thing the night before, and it was the cause of his current state of being.

Chris eyed him suspiciously as though he'd just fed him a mouthful of bullshit. Which in all honesty, actually was the case. "All right." The tone was disbelieving. "But if I see any sign of that not being true, I'm making it an order to stay away from this base until you're recovered. Understood?"

Piers felt his jaw briefly tense, "Yes, sir." If the Captain planned to keep a close eye on him... No, he could do this. He'd taken plenty of damage out on the field in his life, he could deal with the result of rough sex. It was just a matter of keeping himself fully collected in front of Chris, which he already almost stumbled over. He was fortunate that the older man didn't demand an explanation from him... But given the circumstances, it could still happen in due time, and Piers dreaded the thought.

Chris watched him in wonder for a few lengthy moments before he gave a single nod and brushed by, leaving Piers to exhale heavily after the Captain disappeared around the corner.

It was going to be a long day.

Left and right, no matter where Piers had gone throughout the morning, Chris wouldn't be far behind. He kept a close eye on the sniper, and Piers never before had to try as hard as he did that day to keep himself fully collected. There were slight falters at times, when Chris would get too close or ask something that reminded Piers of the other day. To make things worse, time seemed to draw itself out as though it was taunting him.

Avoiding Chris would not be as easy as the ace had first hoped. The Captain made sure to stay on the lookout for anything that seemed out of place in the sniper, he wasn't stupid, he knew just as well as Piers did that he was lying about what had happened. Although Piers was good at disappearing - at hiding and not being seen - through the drills and all their training, he had no choice but to be near the older man. Continuously leaving any time he felt brown eyes scanning him from afar would be plainly obvious that something was wrong. Chris would call him out on that one for sure.

So, Piers endured. All the curious glances, all the strange occasional questions seemingly made solely to get under his skin and provoke a reaction. It became easier for his features to keep their normally stern overlook the longer that time went by, but it did nothing to put a distance between he and Chris. No, the older man would watch him until Piers failed at holding up the mask, or when the Captain had his answers directly fed to him, one way or another.

Now, the lot of them were in the break room. Andy and Carl bickered off in a corner, while Ben had disappeared moments prior. Finn seemed even more visibly bothered by something than Piers was, and one thing Chris did catch onto with ease were the looks that had been struck between them. Finn's constant wide-eyed gaze, and Piers' narrowed hazel with a lurking threat hidden somewhere within.

That was what confused Chris.

Why would Finn have been involved in whatever had Piers so beaten up and abused? The rookie didn't have any cuts or bruises like the sniper, so clearly he hadn't taken part in whatever fight had occurred. Finn, although known for his soft and innocent nature, had never seemed so terrified.

So, Chris waited.

He waited until the conversations died down, waited until Andy left with a release of haughty laughter and a glaring Carl in tow. He also intended to wait further, until the sniper had excused himself with the rest.

Yet, Piers seemed hesitant to go. He didn't want to leave Chris alone with Finn, perhaps?

Chris was the Captain. He didn't need Piers to be the one to leave first, he had other options and made that plainly obvious to the sniper. "Finn, there's something I want to discuss with you. Meet me in my office when you're done," He stood up in preparation to take his leave and offered a glance toward Piers, who had perked up at the words almost uncharacteristically so.

Another shared gaze between sniper and demolitionist, then Finn had scrambled to his feet where he nearly fell flat on his face when his foot caught itself under the chair in his rush. Head lowered, instead of pushing things off, he followed behind the Captain. Hazel eyes never drifted away from the duo until they were out of sight, and the sniper had been left on his own with worry and paranoia thickly laced inside his stare, now gazing at nothing in particular as it settled against the door the two had left through.

Chris didn't say anything during the walk to his office, noting how the much younger man seemed to drag his feet as they went, uncomfortable. No doubt Finn already knew what the conversation would be about.

The second they got to the office, Chris ushered the demolitionist inside and closed the door behind them. "Finn... Have you noticed anything odd about Piers lately?"

There it was, Finn had feared the worst and rightfully so. "N-no sir! I only saw him briefly today." The rookie was already wide-eyed, sweat glistened from every pore under the gaze of his beloved Captain.

Finn twitched.

Then fidgeted.

Chris raised an eyebrow. "And yesterday?"

"Just for a minute! I-I mean, we talked before he was sent home. But it wasn't for long, sir!"

Piers was going to kill him. Kill him dead, dead, dead.

Chris sighed and approached the young demolitionist with a hand placed over his shoulder. "Finn, if there's something important that you know, don't be afraid to tell me. If Piers-"

"No!" The rookie unintentionally interrupted with a shudder under the weight of the palm over his shoulder. "He... He just wasn't feeling well, is all. You could always talk to him about it." Finn avoided a more direct answer. He hated having to do so, especially with his Captain; his idol, who had always been so kind and caring towards him despite the fact that they were soldiers. But Piers... The sniper was the last person that Finn would ever want to anger.

Chris eyed him for a few silent moments before he gave a reassuring squeeze and released his hold. "Tried that." He pinched the bridge of his nose with another heavy exhale.

Finn shifted in place, suddenly uncomfortable. "Um..."

"You can go, Finn. Thanks anyway," Damn it. So close. Chris let his hand fall away and turned to seat himself back at his desk.

"Sorry, sir." The rookie mumbled, head lowered as he spun around and reached for the door.

Chris placed his head in his hands, elbows firmly atop the surface of his desk. "He looked so different," The voice had Finn pausing in his movements. The young demolitionist turned back around to look toward his Captain as the man continued, "Not because of the bruises, there was something in his eyes. Piers is always so collected, but I could tell something was wrong. Then he practically stumbled over his own words... It was out of character," Chris withdrew his head from his hands with a frown, gaze lowered to his desk.

Naturally upon hearing the words and concern in his Captain's voice, Finn opened his mouth. Instead of petty reassurances or suggestions, something else entirely had spilled out. "It could have had something to do with him being tied up and naked in your off-" The demolitionist cut himself off too late. Doe-like eyes widened to their full extent as the Captain's head snapped up at the words. "I-I mean... I didn't..." His skin turned three shades of red from the embarrassment as his heart picked up its pace and nearly pounded out of his chest cavity.

He was dead. So, so dead.

"...What did you just say?"

Finn wanted to crawl away in the darkest place he could find and never come out. "H-he... Um." The demonitionist struggled to find the words.

Chris pushed himself up out of his chair and closed in on the rookie, making Finn stiffen in place like a deer caught in the headlights. "Finn... What happened?"

"You can't tell him! He made me promise not to let anyone know!" Well, it was more like Piers had threatened him, but one was just as equal to the other in meaning.

Chris placed both hands over the younger man's shoulders, "I need to know what went on." It was Finn that he was dealing with, and his voice wasn't as rough as it could have been, though it still held a softened sense of firmness to it.

Finn shuffled and his eyes lowered themselves to the floor. "I came in looking for you yesterday, and he was... Um." He made a weak motion toward the desk, "Over there." His eyes were anywhere but on his Captain. "Bruised and tied up." He left out the part about the sniper being covered in drying cum. The memory in itself made his skin heat up and redden further.

Chris nearly scoffed. Bruised and tied up in his own damn office. What the hell did Piers get himself into? How did he even...? Why would he do that? "Did he say anything? Do you know how he ended up like that?"

Finn shook his head, this time without spurted excuses. He was telling the truth. "He told me not to tell anyone. I untied him and he had me get his clothes, then he left. T-that was all! I swear!"

But Chris seemed faraway. He couldn't figure it out, why Piers would go behind his back like that. Was he fooling around with someone and just happened to choose his office as the perfect place for it? It didn't feel right, it didn't seem like something Piers would do.

So, what the hell happened?

Chris snapped himself out of his train of thought to eye the younger man. "You're sure? That's everything?"

Aside from being covered in ropes of jism, yeah it was. Finn nodded, "Yes, sir!"

Chris gave a gentle squeeze to both shoulders and withdrew. "Thank you," He'd said, "But I will have to talk to Piers about this, Finn." He watched the poor kid as those wide eyes drooped to the floor, head lowered. If Piers found out... Finn had already resigned himself to his fate. "Hey," The sound had the demolitionist looking back toward his superior. Chris offered a small, reassuring smile, although it was forced. "You'll be fine. I won't mention you, and if he figures it out on his own... I'll take care of it. You don't have to worry."

Finn seemed relieved at the news, too young features brightened up and the sparkle returned to innocent eyes. "Thanks, Captain!"

Chris nodded and motioned toward the door, "Go ahead. I'll need to talk to him, and it's better that I get this out of the way now." Finn scrambled out the door after that, clearly more cheery now that things had been partially resolved. Chris sighed and exited the room as well to go in search of the sniper. It was more than likely that Piers had disappeared from the break room by now, and Chris knew exactly where to look.

After a short time of roaming through hallways, as expected, the ace was down in the shooting range. Perfect positioning, excellent posture, Piers had never felt more at home than when a gun was firmly placed in hand. Chris closed in with a determination in his stride, slowing to a halt not far behind the ace as he fired. "Piers," The name had the sniper glancing over a shoulder, "My office, now." The tone held a firmness that couldn't be denied, and Piers seemed uneasy as he stared after his superior and immediately followed in step with him back through the hallways.

Piers wasn't an idiot, he knew that Chris had been talking to Finn, he was there when they left for the office. The damn rat, he'd squeaked out his little secret the moment his beloved, cherished Captain had asked a single question. Just how much did Finn say, though? Piers still had his rifle in hand, and his fingers tightened against it as they entered the room. He had to throw it over his shoulder to avoid hunting the rookie down now rather than later. Chris closed the door behind them and moved to take a seat in his chair, motioning for Piers to do the same. The sniper declined with a shake of the head, the look in his superior's eyes told him everything he needed to know.

Piers tensed his jaw, and deft fingers curled themselves inwards to form balled fists. His knuckles strained against the fabric of his gloves, "I've got a bullet just waiting to hit Finn between the teeth-"

Chris raised a hand to stop him, "Don't blame Finn, he did the right thing. Now it's your turn. The truth, Piers, I want to hear it from you."

"No."

Chris raised an eyebrow at that, "No? Piers, I can make it an order-"

"No." The ace was still stubborn, hazel eyes gained a slight narrow. "Do I make a habit of asking about your personal life?"

"When it involves your health and messing around my desk, I think I have plenty of reason to be asking you about this." Chris countered, eyeing the sniper who persistently avoided giving him answers. There were no more falters, no more pretending. Piers had gone into full on defensive mode, and there was no way Chris could crack that shell with ease. "Piers, you don't have much of a choice. I need to know what happened, and whether or not I need to do something about it."

"Let it go," Piers insisted, "It's already done and over with."

"Piers..." The Captain drawled, his tone a warning. Piers stood as defiant as ever, refusing to give an answer and he left Chris with little choice. "All right," The older man said with a shrug of his shoulders. "Enjoy the rest of the day on base. Until I get an explanation, you won't be coming back. We're done here." That seemed to get the sniper's attention.

Piers straightened his posture, hazel widening from their former narrow, "You wouldn't-"

"I said we're done, Piers." Chris motioned toward the door to his office.

"You can't do that! I'm perfectly capable to-"

Chris stood up from his chair with a suddenness and slammed his palms against the surface of his desk, jarring it. "I'm the damn Captain, soldier. What I say, goes. Until you remember that and decide to give me answers, I don't want to see you back around here." It was brown that narrowed this time, watching the ace with unbidden anger. This wasn't how he wanted things to play out, but damn it if the sniper wasn't so close-mouthed. He did what he had to. Piers couldn't stay away from his duty for long.

The ace eyed the older man accusingly for a few extra moments, "Fine," He seethed, visibly angered by the news. Piers was doing it to protect the older man, why did Chris have to insist on pushing for more? He was better off not knowing, and Piers sure as hell couldn't tell him the truth.

The sniper spun on a heel and stormed out the door, leaving the Captain to his own devices.

Chris sighed and seated himself back in the chair. As much as he hated to do it, he was concerned about the sniper. If it would get him the truth, he could wait it out. Piers was stubborn, but he couldn't stay away forever.

In the meantime, working hours or no, Chris needed a relief.

The day that hadn't been able to go by fast enough suddenly seemed to increase its movements - double time. Hours flew by after the argument, both Chris and Piers had stopped eyeing one another so constantly. Piers got what he wanted, Chris wasn't continuously breathing down his neck; but that was because he already knew that something was wrong, that something was off. Piers had been anything but kind to the rest of Alpha, drilling each and every one of them harder than usual to appease his own boiling anger.

Finn, however, had gotten the worst of it. Although Piers wanted to rip his damn head off and use it for target practice on a fucking pike, the ace would at least take some tiny semblance of satisfaction from ordering the rookie around, forcing him to endure more than he had to.

Yet, by the end of the day, he was still just as upset.

Piers had made sure to stay after hours again. He wrapped a few extra things up, spent some time down at the range and even out on the track, all in search of a way to vent his pent up frustration. Pestering Finn constantly should have done the trick, but when that failed to be good enough, everything else seemed as equally unsatisfactory.

Finally, Piers had ended up in the locker room. One quick shower, and he'd be on his way home. Chris would need him eventually, they'd have to call him back. Even as Captain, the older man couldn't keep him away forever, surely. Piers was down to the standard BDU, vest and riggings all already thrown aside in moments prior.

"Piers."

The sniper didn't need to turn around to know the owner of the voice; it was one he knew all too well. "Captain," He returned in a forced greeting as he discarded his shirt without turning around. Piers didn't say more than that as he bent over to remove his boots and socks where they were put aside. Resounding footsteps made their way closer, and Piers caught a familiar scent of scotch. His hands froze in their movements at his belt as the older man came to a stop behind him. Anger turned itself to worry, worry turned to excitement, excitement was the anticipation for what his body knew was coming. It was late again, just like it had been the other day when everything went to hell and got complicated. They were alone, and no one was there to help any more than they had been the last time. A shiver of unwanted pleasure at the thought made a course down the curve of his spine, and he felt hot breath against his ear. "W-wait-"

Chris didn't offer Piers the chance before thick arms were wrapped around him from behind, with hands that tugged loose the undone belt the rest of the way before they grabbed thinner wrists and twisted them painfully against his back. Piers yelped as he was practically thrown onto the small bench, forced to keep one leg over each side of the thin platform as he made contact. A large hand kept both wrists pinned to his lower back, and in so doing, restricted the movements of his torso under the weight as Chris used his other hand to yank down the ace's fatigues, exposing the previously abused bubbled ass.

Piers grunted, peering the best he could over his shoulder at the older man who appeared so intent on violating him again. His wrists twisted and pulled against the hand holding them, but Chris had a strong grip. Piers was still raw, it still hurt from the last time the Captain had torn him wide open. Yet, his body betrayed every thought as Chris tossed aside the last remnants of clothing, all but for the scarf he so loved to gag the sniper with. "Captain! Stop! You know what happened the las-" He cut himself off with a yell as leather collided with the sensitive flesh of an olive globe, not at all gentle in the force that had been put behind it. "Captain, please-" Another smack to the opposite cheek had him burying his face against the bench as it turned a matching red shade, equally as abused as the first mound.

Chris leaned over him, mouth pressed tight to his jawline where teeth merged together to bite down over exposed flesh, marking a trail that was halted only by the scarf. "Are you going to bitch some more? I wouldn't mind beating them until they bleed," He growled, the threat behind the words was indeed a very real one. Piers shuddered under the contact of heated breath over his skin and swallowed hard. Chris didn't listen in such a state as that, he never listened while drunk. After the last time specifically, Piers had learned that whether he was agreeable or not, Chris would always take and do what he wanted no matter what the ace had to say about it. Either way, his current predicament was enough evidence to indicate that whatever he chose to do, Chris was still going to have his way with him just like before.

"No, Captain." Piers mumbled against the surface of the bench, resigned to his fate. He half expected the older man to beat him raw anyway, but to his surprise, Chris shifted his weight and the belt was instead used to bind Piers at the wrists where it successfully prevented him from moving too much. It didn't necessarily make things better, but the ace avoided some form of humiliation at the very least... Even if his body was going against him in every way. He heard another buckle from behind him as Chris removed his own and wrapped it over both Piers and the small bench before tightening it into place, effectively strapping the younger man to the surface so he couldn't squirm free.

There was a shuffle, and Chris moved away from him to his own locker. "I never get tired of seeing you tied up like that," He carried on as he rummaged through the contents to retrieve a pack of cigarettes and his lighter. He popped one of the sticks between his lips and lit it, puffing out several clouds of smoke from the corners of his mouth. The fact that they were in the damn base didn't matter, not while he was drunk out of his mind.

Piers gave a tug against the restraints binding his wrists to test them while the older man was distracted. Like everything else had been, it was wrapped tightly in place and held firm under his wriggling. He shifted his weight, this time to try and knock loose the belt attaching him to the bench. It held just as strongly as the other, leaving him bound and helpless all over again. His body seemed intent on mocking him, as he could feel a stirring arise at the thought and it made his current position extremely uncomfortable - not that it hadn't exactly been already. His cock was trapped under his own weight, and he could barely rotate his hips for any friction.

Chris started to move again, circling back around somewhere behind him. Piers caught the sound of a zipper, and shortly after two hands had placed themselves over reddened cheeks to part them with a squeeze. The sniper could feel the cool air tickle against his sore pucker and he shuddered under the feeling as he curled his bottom lip between his teeth and bit down in preparation. Chris nudged himself forward, cock head pressed against the the abused orifice. Brown orbs briefly lifted to younger features, noting the furrow of the ace's brow as hazel eyes shut themselves closed tight. The kid was trying not to put on too much of a show. The Captain snorted, waves of smoke exited through his nostrils under the pressure. Willingly or not, he'd have the boy screaming long before they were ready to leave.

Chris thrusted forward, impaling the ace with his heated rod in a single movement that had Piers trying hard to bite back a cry as the unhealed channel was torn all over again. Chris reached a hand forward, fingers curled themselves through short locks and pulled so the sniper's head was lifted from the bench. Powerful hips retracted, only to jam back in at the same time Chris slammed Piers down against the bench with an audible thud at the collision, sending the younger man's world into a brief twirl as the side of his face hit the surface not at all gently. A second time had a headache starting to brew, then a third and particularly harder push had Piers bleeding at the temple. He was openly groaning by then, forced to endure the dual sensation in both his head and rectum as they were thoroughly abused.

Chris settled for unwinding his fingers from short locks where he relocated his hand to the undamaged side of Piers' face, forcing his weight against the skin with every thrust into the freshly bleeding pucker, so that the sniper's head constantly pounded up a storm under the pressure and left the broken skin pressed painfully tight to the surface below. Pearly whites clenched together, a series of softer groans and sharpened hisses slipped free from Piers, but Chris wanted more. His thick, meaty cock relentlessly abused the tender hole in an increasing pace that had audible slaps of flesh on flesh resound alongside his own grunts.

It was back to phase one, ruthlessly fucked by a prick too large to fit comfortably inside the tight entry way, yet every thrust into the sniper's bowels pushed and pulled Piers across the bench just enough to grind his cock between it and his own stomach. His body was burning, on fire with a mixture of forced arousal and pain. Piers was a helpless receiver as the thick girth plowed through his insides. His lip was back between his teeth, bleeding from how hard he bit down over the plump tissue with every jerk of the cock reentering the tender walls.

It hurt, it ached. It was a nightmare that came back to life for a second time. A part of him wanted it, loved the pain and the roughness, it made him hard and made him hot - but in his head, when he was able to think clear and fluidly, he knew it was wrong. Chris would never willingly do something so harsh as he did when drunk, carelessly skewering his body with a pulsing rod that thrummed upon every push. It was conflicting and confusing, Piers didn't know which thoughts to follow. He loved it and hated it all at the same time, for different reasons.

He also couldn't hold back the throaty moan as the cock head inside his depths once again managed to brush against that wonderful bundle, making his hips rock back to meet the invading girth with every plunge. The Captain's free hand dropped to smack an already red tinted cheek, earning a sharp intake of breath from Piers mingled with a groan as his length was thrusted back inside. "You sound more like a proper whore every time we do this," Chris panted as his powerful hips slammed themselves into the bubbled ass he so adored. Piers whined under the brutality of the pounding, his lungs unable to fill themselves with enough air to counter the hard fucking. Breaths were ragged and came out heavy, and the sniper no longer tried to hold back his noises when the most recent attempts had already failed.

"Ngh, Chris-" Piers jerked when another smack was delivered at the sound, and behind him Chris had paused to lean over him inches from his ear. "It's still Captain until I say so," His voice was deepened, lustful and husky from his current state of arousal. A puff of smoke blew across the sniper's skin as Chris exhaled, instantly getting sucked through his nostrils and Piers nearly choked at the scent, his breathing already hindered from the onslaught of abuse. Chris plucked the cigarette from between his lips with a curious hum, and barely a few moments later, the end of it was placed against the flesh of the delicious handful of rump that his palm had previously abused. Piers cried out at the burning over an already sore cheek, his body attempted to jerk away from the touch but both of the belts and Chris' weight held firm.

"What was that?" The older man seethed as Piers twisted under him.

Piers whined, "Captain, please!" Each movement had the cock still swallowed within his ass muscles brush over his prostate, effectively pinning him against an assault of both pain and pleasure as the cigarette burned his skin, heating it up past the point of arousal in a blend of twisted masochism.

Chris withdrew at that, brown eyes stared down at the fresh burn as he flicked aside the used bud. "Good boy," Came the hushed reply, voice still laced thickly with an intense desire as he reached down to knead the abused flesh, drawing forth a whimper from the smaller man. Chris retracted out to the tip, before sheathing his length back inside the tender heat with a sudden thrust to resume his pace. He prodded at the burn with a finger, feeling the heat emanating from the wound as he pistoned himself deep inside the dark chasm. The softened sob he received in reply only served to spur him on. His balls tightened with the approaching build up, and a few more thrusts inside joined with the lengthy cries from the body below had him emptying his seed into the cramped orifice with a loud groan.

Piers shuddered under the invading girth as his insides were flooded with thick juices, his own arousal left unsatisfied and untouched as Chris pulled himself free. For a moment, Piers had considered the possibility that his Captain might leave him there to be found again, until larger hands reached around him to tug loose the belt that pinned him to the bench. With a roughness, Chris flipped him over the side of the edge and onto the floor with a soft thud, leaving the sniper's arms still pinned in place behind his back, now trapped between his own weight and the concrete. His throbbing cock bounced achingly against his stomach, the tip freely leaked drops of precum as Chris hovered over him, slipping his belt back into the hoops on his pants.

Hazel watched him, unsure of what the older man planned as the Captain pulled the ace's locker open and tugged loose the casual wear fatigues Piers had meant to slip into after the shower he never had the chance to take before the interruption. "Captain, what-"

"Shut up," Chris warned as he lifted one toned leg after the other into the clothing, quite literally dressing the sniper for him. "We're leaving." The zipper was pulled up, the button was done and in place. The Captain hadn't bothered to allow him any undergarments as he grabbed Piers' jacket and closed the locker.

Hazel blinked, "We? But Captain-"

Dark eyes narrowed threateningly, "Do you want to walk around in public with that scarf tucked between those lips?" He queried with a hand outstretched, fingers tugging gently against the loved fabric still woven around the ace's neck.

Piers swallowed, half tempted to say yes, but that was the arousal talking. "No, sir." He felt uneasy, confused at what Chris had in store. The larger man slipped his boots on for him and laced them up just enough to keep them in place before he dragged Piers to his feet so Chris could place the jacket over his shoulders, successfully hiding the sniper's bound wrists underneath it.

Chris wrapped an arm over his shoulders and pulled him along, nearly causing Piers to trip at first with the suddenness before they fell into step together. The base was quite literally as empty as the ace had imagined, and they ran into no trouble as Chris led them out the main door to his car. Piers was hesitant, forced to stumble as Chris insistently dragged him with him and opened the side door, "Get in." The sniper didn't at first, and he waited just long enough for an impatient Chris to cram him inside on his own and strap him in place with the seat belt. The door was shut, and Chris walked around to the opposite side to climb in and start the vehicle.

"Captain," Piers started again, hazel directed toward the older man. "You've been drinking. This isn't... You shouldn't-"

"Piers." The name was spoken sharply, and brown eyes turned with an irritated stare that had a chill creep down the sniper's spine.

Despite the stupidity of the idea, Piers took his chances. "Captain, no! You need to sto-" A hand reached across to his groin and twisted with a rough squeeze, making his words die off into a scream as he arched against the safety belt that kept him strapped to his seat.

Chris wasn't amused by his behavior, "Are you going to shut up, or am I keeping my hand here for the entire ride?" His grip tightened, causing the sniper to whine and squirm.

"O-okay," Piers uttered from behind clenched teeth, "I won't- ahh," He inhaled sharply but unsteadily.

Chris eyed him for a few seconds longer before he released his hold, allowing the ace to gasp with a relief. Even if it hurt, the kid was still achingly hard when Chris let go. Whether Piers liked it or not, he couldn't deny that his body had. Piers tried to calm his breathing as he averted his gaze to the window and away from Chris while the older man pulled the vehicle out of the lot and onto the road. Surprisingly, he kept it fairly stable and controlled, but the Captain was still drunk off his feet and Piers was unsettled by it. Not to mention the fact that he had no way of knowing what exactly his superior had planned for him.

The ride was quiet, up until the times they would reach a red light and Chris would actually rub a hand over the bulge in the sniper's fatigues, causing a hitch in breath and soft gasps to emanate from his throat as his hips lifted upward into the touch the best they were able to. Occasionally Chris would squeeze just to hear Piers yelp, but it all served to keep him fully erect on the way to their destination.

When they finally stopped, Piers instantly recognized the location. Chris had brought to his own home with him, and the ace paled at the thought of what the drunken man wanted to do with him. Chris exited the vehicle and circled around to Piers' side to help him out and guide him up the walkway to the front door. Chris urged him inside before locking the door behind them. A hand clutched over one of the sniper's shoulders with a roughness as he instructed him to keep moving with him up the staircase. Piers nearly jumped out of his own skin the moment he was practically thrown into the bedroom, falling to the floor from the force of the push with a soft, "Oof!"

Chris was on him in an instant, throwing aside the jacket as he tore off his boots and tugged at his bottoms. Even his scarf was tossed away this time. The reality of the situation had sunk in, and Piers was in a panic. He was in Chris' home, locked away from the rest of the world so the older man could do whatever the hell he pleased. Once he was done... Piers would no doubt be left bound and discarded, where a sober Chris would be there in the morning to find him.

It was wrong, all of it.

Piers couldn't let that happen, he couldn't let Chris, the real Chris, know!

When Chris rolled him to his back, the ace thrashed under his grip. His arms were bound but his legs were free, and Piers didn't hesitate to lift a knee against his Captain's side.

Chris was furious at the attempt.

A meaty hand enclosed into a fist and repaid the smaller frame in kind with a collision into his ribs, shattering several upon impact that had Piers shouting under the pain as Chris prepared another blow. The sniper was faster and much more flexible with a foot that lifted to the Captain's head, causing it to jerk to the side.

It was a heated moment, a worse fight than any against B.O.W.s. This was Captain and protege, superior and subordinate. Chris and Piers.

Piers never wanted to hurt Chris. He fought because the realization of everything that the Captain had done would hurt him more than a few bruises. But Chris... Overly drunk, he was aggressive and got off on the abuse, on causing pain to his beloved little pet sniper. It was sick and it was twisted, abnormal. A side of Chris that Piers would have never imagined could exist. Piers had concealed the entire truth from him for all this time, he couldn't let Chris find out about it now.

But Chris clearly had the upper hand, even in his drunken state. With his larger build and both his hands free, the Captain pushed himself into a stand out of the reach of toned legs as the side of his face throbbed softly, a dim reminder of what Piers had tried. Chris was a powerhouse; durable and strong, years of fighting countless B.O.W.s with varying strengths had hardened him. He circled around Piers until he stood near his head. Bent in a crouch, the Captain sat the younger man up with a jerk from fingers that reached through his hair. His other arm wove itself around the sniper's neck as Chris backed himself up to sit at the edge of the bed, tightening his grip on Piers who kicked and squirmed helplessly in his arms as his oxygen was cut off.

With hands tied firmly behind his back, Piers could do little against the weight over his windpipe as his legs twitched and spasmed, bending at the knees simply to jolt outwards in a writhe. "I warned you, kid." Chris hissed from behind him, the words barely registered to his mind as his struggles weakened. Hazel eyes fluttered, stubbornly attempting to keep themselves open as the world around him started to darken, vision blurring from the lack of air. His body jerked, twisted one last time, before his movements slowed to a halt and his form went limp.

Chris released his hold, allowing air to automatically suck into needy lungs. Piers breathed in, body desperately requiring the oxygen now presented to it. But the ace was still out cold. Chris stood up and lifted him over to the side of the bed, where the older man hovered next to him with brown eyes that searched the younger features. Piers was so much more relaxed, the sternness he always carried with him had dissipated into a softened look as he lay there, unmoving all but for the gentle rise and fall of his chest cavity. Plump lips were slightly parted, yet oh so desirable in his vulnerable state. Chris eyed him thoughtfully as his hands undid his zipper and pulled his cock free, now fully sprung back to life. He couldn't deny how good the kid looked struggling against something that he had no hope of beating, with eyes ready to roll back in their sockets as he was denied oxygen. The sight had gone directly to the Captain's groin, and Chris wasn't passing up the opportunity.

Chris angled himself closer to those parted lips until his tip nudged at them, forcing them to open further as he slipped himself inside, shaft immediately greeted with a slick, welcoming warmth. Even in his unconscious state, as the cock was thrusted deep into the confines of Piers' throat, he started to reflexively gag against the pressure. Chris paid it no heed as he pulled himself far enough away until those lips were loosely wrapped over the cock head, then plunged back in without any sense of hesitation. His hand lowered to the sniper's chin with long fingers resting against his cheeks. Chris added pressure, causing the walls of the mouth he so openly violated to close in, helping things to feel as though he was receiving a proper blowjob.

Chris groaned low in his throat as Piers gagged on his length again, the kid had a perfect mouth. It was also what had started everything the very first day. His free hand reached for his scrotum to fondle with the sensitive sac as he guided himself in a rhythm in and out of that perfectly shaped moist orifice. Plump lips were forced to drag themselves across the length of his cock as he moved, with no firmness or pressure behind them that would have further heated things up. Chris buried himself in all the way and held it there, watching as a furrow formed over the ace's brow even in his unconscious state. His breathing was hindered as he choked against the meaty length forced down the span of his throat.

Drunk out of his mind, Chris thought it was fucking beautiful.

With a throaty moan, he started to move again, the bottom of his shaft shifted against the sniper's tongue with every plunge, and any time he stopped to hold himself in place, Chris could feel the muscle twitch against his prick oh so perfectly.

Desperate now for satisfaction, both of his hands moved to grip a hold over the ace's head as he slammed himself in with repeated motions, striving for a needed release as he nearly broke Piers' jaw from the intensity of his own thrusts, stopping only when he felt himself explode inside the oral cavity, where he kept his cock lodged in place until he was sure that the larger portion of fluids had been forced down the tight throat. A small trail of white managed to slip from a corner of pouted lips where it drizzled across the skin, unattended.

Once finished, Chris retracted and slipped himself back inside his fatigues. He reached out, thumb roamed over the fullness of Piers' bottom tier, slightly more puffed than usual after the recent events. Chris let his hand fall away and left the jism in place over softened features. It was a nice touch, made sure the kid really did look like some sort of whore.

Sparing one last glance to Piers, the Captain moved to the opposite side of the bed and collapsed next to the unconscious form, soon falling into a dreamless sleep beside him.

Pain.

A throbbing expanded all across his head, making his own heartbeat a killer sound to his ear drums. Chris audibly groaned, hands finding their way to his eyes where they rested briefly in place until he sat up. The last thing he remembered was being upset, needing a drink after the issue with Piers. The younger man had been so evasive, so intent on keeping his little secret that anyone else would have been infuriated.

Not that Chris hadn't been.

Piers could be just as stubborn as he was, and the sniper kept his mouth firmly shut. Chris didn't have a chance at prying it out of him if Piers didn't want to openly share that information. Damn it all to hell.

Brown eyes blinked, adjusting to the light that leaked in from behind thin curtains. Chris made a move to swing his legs over the side of the bed, only to pause when he heard a shuffle that hadn't come from his own body. A glance to the side had him openly gasp, eyes suddenly unsure of themselves as they landed on the familiar lean body, beaten and bound in his own bed. The already head pounding thump of his heart increased its pace, becoming more frequent to his own ears as it hammered away. Chris leaned over, one hand raised to tilt the sniper's head toward him, wincing slightly at the trickles of blood that dripped in rivulets down the side of his face from his temple, now dry and stuck to his skin. What made things worse, was the trail of white marking along one of the corners of his mouth. That wasn't...

"...Piers?" Chris tried to wake him, voice cracked around the edges as he spoke the name to no effect.

Finn. Finn had told him that he found Piers in a similar fashion, bound and abused... In his office. Now, the sniper was in his own bed. But how? Chris didn't even remember-

Drinking. He'd been drinking both days it happened. But he couldn't have possibly...

Chris swallowed, suddenly unsure of himself. Piers was out of it and hurt. Chris tipped him over, just enough to reach the belt and untie it from his wrists before he was on his feet, walking over to the other side of the bed to lift the limp body into his arms. He needed Piers awake.

He needed answers.

Chris carried the lean figure into the bathroom, where he carefully set him into the tub and reached for the knob to turn on the water. It spurted to life, delivering a soft shower that had Piers groaning. Chris turned it up, and deft hands rose to cover the sniper's face on instinct as he coughed, throat sore from the abuse of the night prior. He had no knowledge of the forced blowjob, just the after taste as the water shut itself off, allowing his hands to lower themselves as hazel eyes fluttered open. Normally spiked bangs were drooped downward over his forehead from the dampness, the water did little to wash away the grime still latched against the side of his head.

Piers breathed shallowly as the world set itself back into place and he turned, hazel finding brown. Chris was tense, hurt and unsure. Two hearts hammered in unison within the walls of the bathroom, a quickened pace so near to exploding.

Chris was the one to break the silence, his voice riddled with cracks and lacking its usual strength. The firmness was gone, all evidence of his stature as Captain went out the window at the sound.

"Piers... Why didn't you tell me?"