Day 6. That little fucking weasel... how could he manage to evade him for this long? Chris had already made up his mind that vengeance was the only thing that would satisfy him now, and after the last few days, Piers was only making it all the more obvious with every passing hour that he thought he'd won. He'd already decided on a plan of action a few days ago, but the plan involved required him to get him in just the right place. That included finding him in a setting that wasn't rife with rookie wannabes who all had participated in friendly fire. He was so certain he'd won, pah! What this annoying little ace didn't know, was that Chris was playing for keeps. If they were playing this game for real, then Chris was ready. There was a difference between playing hide and seek, and playing what he'd learned in the military; command and conquer. Time for that twenty year old to know who he was messing with. Until now there was reserve, conflictual ideals on his part as to if he was even capable of doing the things this kid had been antagonizing him to do. But after that night, after feeling him sitting there in his lap, grinding his hips against him. There was no conflict anymore. The strong, never fail captain of the B.S.A.A. was not about to be outdone by a twenty year old sniper with a god complex. He'd had time to think about it, and now, now he was ready.
Thankfully, according to plan, he'd done Chris a favor and attended the stupidity of the damnable safety convention meeting that day, saving him the issue of finding the little bastard. He was sitting there across the isle with his thumb pressed against his bottom lip. He wasn't even hiding it anymore. Just letting Chris openly and blatantly stare at him. He thinks he's all but won this. Chris knew it, if he couldn't move every time this kid touched him how could he ever hope to beat him at the worst played game of hide and seek on the planet? It was more like they were playing 'I'm not hiding and you suck at seeking'... But of course there was an easy answer to all of it. If he couldn't move when Piers touched him, he'd have to do something about those deft searching fingers of his.
He should have just watched the speaker, concentrate on what he needed to do. Instead he was just making it harder on himself. He spent the entire morning watching Piers suck on the crook if his knuckle and rest his other hand so obviously between his legs, shooting Chris looks, teasing and smugness all wrapped together with those lusty eyes locked on Chris' own wandering ones. He was trying to make him uncomfortable even here and it was damn well working. How was he suppose to stand up with these people with Piers getting him hard as a rock just from watching that talented tongue dart out over the fleshy joint every so often. It was alright, if he was willing to play dirty, so was Chris, and he could sit back and enjoy those flirting glances.
Watching him carefully from his cramped seat, he raised a brow, examining the way Piers held himself, almost admiring it. He was well trained that was certain. He was a sniper, and not a low grade one, but a gifted sniper who knew what was on the line. He'd learned to let others make the first move, taunt them out of their comfort so that you could take the first shot. He'd let Chris all but set himself up the entire time they were together, asking him what he wanted, if he liked what he saw. Making Chris say things he wouldn't ordinarily just to get him on edge before paralyzing him with those eyes and those hands. Even now he knew what he was doing. That tongue on his skin, tasting the salt of his flesh was just an attempt to make Chris break again, to make him act. The answer was simple, how do you break a sniper?
'Are there any questions?'
Thank God. Intermission of the idiots. He refused to let his eyes leave the younger man's as his finger finally pulling away from his lips and onto his knee to push into a standing position, moving aside while others made their way to leave. Chris smirked, watching him stand there, his eyes darting to and fro to keep account of every person that had surrounded him. Pushing up from his own place to step beside him, joining the funnel of people crushing themselves toward the exit, he stride alongside him. "We need to talk." The words dropped low between them, barely audible amongst the rumble of the crowd of those being ushered to the poorly catered buffet tables. There was no answer to the command, but it's strength stood there between them unanswered, but as they passed the doors Chris felt a hand brush ever so slightly across the front of him as the sniper disappeared almost instantly down the hall, ducking around the corner. "Fast little shit isn't he..." Chris couldn't help but muse aloud to himself, touching the inside of the door as he used it to leverage himself and turn down the opposite hall, wrapping around toward the upper story stairwell, chuckling to himself all the while.
Footsteps were swallowed by crimson carpet as Chris slipped unseen up the stairs, eyeing each passage in turn. "Going to make me work for this aren't you?" He let his clenched jaw relax, reflexively allowing himself to smile at the idea that he was playing this game with an unknowing opponent. They had picked each other not knowing what was involved, but Chris' advantage was now he knew Piers, and in turn the boy had no idea who he was fucking with. Tactics told him to create a perimeter, but there was no team, only himself so the point was to keep almost onyx eyes always locked on the corners. He wanted this. It was almost the same as being on the offensive in combat except his enemy had nothing to lose, and the only thing on the line for him was dignity. He knew where he wanted to be, so cat and mouse would start here. Keeping close to the walls he made certain to check each dipped fabric and easy hanging anything that one might slip behind, and checked the corners.
Kid was good, but with Chris writing the rules, not good enough. He heard the footfall almost too late, letting himself ignore it for the time being, and instead did what he had to, to win. Give up. It was simple yet difficult. Another few minutes more of checking the corners, checking the bowed balcony, and winding stairs and he found himself the nook of a doorway, leaning his head back and letting his eyes slit closed. Muscled biceps flexed against the motion, raising his hands in balled fists over his head and resting them there, his weight feeling a million times greater, listening silently for a few brief seconds before audibly groaning, "Come on kid, I get it..." Just don't react Chris, he had learned long ago that locating your enemy and getting him where you wanted, were completely separate things. "Not going to stand here all fucking day. I said I wanted to talk." He growled deep in his throat before tipping his head back against the door, wincing at the subtle chuckle that followed from a ways down the hall.
"I thought you wanted a challenge." Chris' eyes remained closed, tensing when he heard the graze of a boot tip on the ground before a limber body slipped up against his, fingers snaking around thick wrists, clasping them there over his head. Chris refused to look at him, knowing full well what he must have looked like; a twenty year old holding him hostage against a door with his body pressing against him. "If you're done Captain, all you have to do is say it... Just part your lips," Chris was cursing himself, feeling the way each he nudged a muscled thigh between his legs, kicking them apart and resting it against his groin, leaning in to purr in his ear. "And submit."
The whole event took only two seconds. Those words were like fire in his ears and Chris bared his teeth in a silent growl before yanking defined and flexed arms down, around the man, gripping warring hands back behind him as their bodies came flush together, twisting his weight so that feet stumbled together like a messy dance until Piers was colliding with the door, his back arching as the wood thrummed against the action. Piers heard the click before he felt it, his face immediately turning sheet white before he tugged to pull his wrists apart only to have cold steel that nip into the flesh of his wrists, the clink ringing coyly behind him from the chain holding them together. "It's time for round two." Chris smirked, shoving one hand unceremoniously into his back pocket and coming away with a card to the conference room behind his back. Slipping the key card in with a resounding beep as it was recognized, watching how the noise caused the sniper to swallow away the silence and grit his teeth.
"Asshole."
"You have no idea kid..." Chris laughed, throttling the door open and letting the ace tumble backward from the weight of Chris' body pressing against him when the door finally came open, slamming it shut behind them. There was luminescence from the high wattage chandeliers in the hall ways peeking through and dashing one stream of light through the narrow slitted window. "You have no fuckin' idea what an asshole I can be. There a new name to this game kid. Mercy." He was standing there, clenching and unclenching his fist, watching Piers like a cornered cat, hazel eyes darting between Chris and the door. "You fucked with the wrong captain kid."
Sure Piers was fast, but he was also twenty, and Chris was an ox. His strength and agility had him on every account and the moment he lurched from the door and Piers went to bolt he had him. He was slimmer by far and gripping him with one arm and holding him to his body was easier with those hands tied up behind him, throwing him back into a chair from around the conference table. Throwing his weight forward to get up Chris laughed, shoving him right back down, pinning him with a bear sized hand against his sternum. "Not so tough once you are caught are you. Tell me, do you know the rules in mercy?" He smirked, reaching under the table and yanking a box out. "Because I can clear it up for you." Piers eyed him warily, those perfect lips twisted as he pulled uncomfortable between Chris' hand and the chair. "There are none." Pulling a rope up from the box he smirked, loving the expression on the face as he realized what had just happened.
"You set me up! Cheap bastard!"
"Damn right kid." Hissing out the words, started tying the rope several times around his middle before taking his time to stop and admire the man he had strapped to the chair. Methodically he gripped both of Piers' knees, shoving them apart with ease afford to a man his size and settled between them, roping each ankle to the legs of the chair. "See kid, I don't like being set up myself and that little stunt you pulled... You have to learn why you can't go around doing that to people." The way he smelled and the straining muscles in his legs made Chris smirk, once he was done roping him into the chair running his rough hands over the fabric covering his legs, gripping his thighs, and feeling how they flexed under the pressure he gave him, his thumbs brushing along his inner thigh. "It's a wild guess, but I'm going to say, you like getting caught." He growled the last words, tightening his hold on Piers' legs, letting him feel the bruising pressure as he looked down at Chris, eyes fluttering shut. "Mmm that's what I thought."
Kid liked it rough. Every time he'd wound up in Chris' lap, or the day that he'd spent tormenting him by standing just in his reach but in everyone's view... there was no evidence at all that it had aroused him, even ground up against Chris the way he had that night. So either he didn't like what he was doing at all, or he wanted to be tied down. "You like it playing the game but the real prize is they don't know how bad you really want it." He was purring into Piers' ear, leaning up and whispering against his lobe before running his tongue over it, pulling himself up and away from the younger man, who leaned his weight back, letting his head drop between his shoulder blades. "But you know what... if you want... all you have to do," Chris narrowed his eyes, pulling his combat knife out of the box and unsheathing it, running the blade's flat-side along his tongue. "Is part your lips," he heard the audible groan from his prisoner and chuckled, tearing his knife through the fabric of his shirt, dodging bits of rope that held him in place before tearing the shirt apart at the chest, looking at the tight ropes against even tighter lean muscles.
Fuck he was right. This kid had skin like velvet, all he wanted to do was touch it, touch himself, whatever he could to release the tension that was growing in his stomach and be free of this urgent need. He looked up from the sculpted frame to see the wincing beneath him, turning his face away so that Chris couldn't see the red coming to his face, only to grip it and force him by the chin to meet his stare. Chris chuckled, watching the body there arch and twist against the ropes holding him to the chair attempting to pull back from the touch. Oh the things he wanted to do to this boy. The things he wanted to do to those lips... They were so wrong but after the days of torture, of thinking about nothing but what those fingers and hands did to him it absolved his overpowering urges. So what if he wanted to drown himself in that mouth? The only pity was now he wouldn't get to feel those hands on him again, but it was a good trade for getting to act out his fantasies. "You have no idea... what you put in my head over the last few days. No idea..." He let his hands trail over the struggling body, feeling the taut muscles in his shoulder, settling himself back down to his knees, and leaning forward, mapping his chest with his tongue.
It didn't take long before the twisting retaliation contorted into something akin to writhing, Chris' teeth finding his collar and gnawing at the flesh, tasting the sweat on his skin while one hand sought to touch every inch of his chest. He could feel his heart beat quicken as his thumb brushed over the nub of flesh on his chest, pinching his nipple hard enough to draw a yelp from him. Chris could spend hours doing this, force moaning and sexual suffering to the younger man who had so thoroughly tortured him. What he really wanted though, was to win. He wanted to make him ache for it to the point where he was willing to break just like he'd done to Chris. His lips were magnetized to his skin, he didn't get tired of the pleasant noises that Piers made, or the strain in his throat as he tipped his head back, revealing the flesh of his neck. Chris immediately sought it out, biting down with enough force that he was groaning and causing welts to raise on his own body where the ropes were digging into his chest from pulling against it. Roughly a hand gripped the fabric between his legs, causing a moan to draw out from between those two parted lips, even as Chris ravaged his neck. He was loving it, having him there, unable to run. He was so aroused just from having him there, feeling stiffening flesh beneath the fabric of fatigues.
"Like that huh? Well remember boy, all you have to do is submit."
"Suck me pal." Piers voice was husky, but forceful, his lips twisted in a frown. Even cuffed and bound he had the same snarky attitude, as though it made no difference to him that Chris' fingers kept working over his groin, urging silent gasps to fall unbridled. The command went straight to chris' cock, twitching painfully in his own pants. He couldn't no matter how much he wanted to give Piers the satisfaction of giving in and putting himself first. It was an odd sensation knowing that if he were to pull his dick out and have the kid do exactly that, then he would have lost. It was a battle of will power. The friction of rubbing Piers was earning him the pleasure of feeling the straining flesh under Chris' hand, knowing how much of an effect he was having on the younger man, until he pulled away his hand, granting him a whimper that was quickly stifled, hips beneath his weight bucking slightly. "Go to hell Redfield..."
"I've been there, believe me its not so bad." Chris chuckled, leaning back on his heel and working the button and zipper of Piers' fatigues, pushing the fabric down along his hips. Pleased with how Piers lifted his weight up so that Chris could slip them down over his hips without struggle or even needing to ask. He wanted this so bad and he wasn't willing to admit it, but he was going to have to eventually. His eyes dropped quickly to the bare flesh as he pulled down boxer briefs and fatigues at the same time, trapped at his ankles, his cock springing free with a gasp. There was a moment of hesitation in Chris, his chest constricting as he was gravely reminded he'd never been with another man before, staring at the body tied to the chair. He was sexy as hell and just a freaking boy. How had this all happened?
Shaking away his shock, Chris wrapped his hand around the base of Piers' arousal, pumping his hand like he would his own cock, running his thumb over the tip of him once, listening to the lustful breathing. He had a fair amount of restraint that was sure, but Piers had been playing this longer than Chris. He wasn't going to fulfill the earlier insult and put his mouth on him, even though he was sure it might just get him what he wanted, and for the first time in his life he actually felt spurred to. "You like that kid?" The question was heavy in the air between them, feeling the vein on the underside of his dick throb in his hand at the weight of them. "You want more?" There was silence, and he slowed the pace of his hand, teasing him, until finally his head tipped forward, looking down at the hands on his body, with his jaw clenched. Kid was fuckin' beautiful like that, muscles strained as hazel wanton eyes begged him silently, breath bated while he bit that pouted bottom lip. "You have to submit pretty boy." The words made a growl Chris didn't know could come from such a smaller man emit, a snarl turning his features before looking away, fixing his eyes on the wall, petulant as always, how Chris leaned forward and mouth the skin of his thighs. He was going to ignore him now, even like this.
His own erection kicked painfully at the sight of him before shaking his head, ignoring his own need and pressing two thick fingers into his own mouth, the sound they made coming out of his mouth snapping back Piers' attention while he reached his hand to cup his hip. "Lift your hips." He knew how to please a woman, why the hell shouldn't this work? He met retaliation as Piers stilled himself despite the hand on him, watching Chris with a glower until the captain snarled and took his hand away from his cock long enough to pull his hips upward, until he could push his other hand between the hard oak chair and the flesh of the sniper's ass, fingers nestling between his cheeks and running circles around the tight ring of muscle. "You want me to... just stop fighting it and I'll give you what you want." He could feel the heady anticipation between them, as his wet fingers probed the skin, even as the smug ace seemed to eye him warily.
Hazel eyes met Chris' briefly before they squeezed shut, the hand wrapping around his arousal again, continuing to fist him while the others pressed against the resistance of muscle, penetrating him. Lips parted instantly and blush covering his cheeks. He was gasping in a matter of moments, Chris reveling in the way he chewed his lip, and brows knit together, as his fingers pushing up to the second knuckles while his other hand tightened it's grip. He was so amazingly tight and overbearingly warm. Sweat was starting to bead over his skin giving him a sheen that Chris wanted to lean forward and lick off his neck, throwing patience to hell and pressing his fingers the rest of the way, pumping them in with the same rhythm of his hand, greeted with the sweet sound of tenor as it cried out from the sudden swift intrusion over and over again, heaving against his restraints. "Fuck!" It was loud enough he was sure if anyone was upstairs they would have heard, but he didn't care. It was like music to Chris' ears and he smirked as he delved his fingers as deep as he could, surprised when he felt the younger man's entire body go rigid in his grip, his leg muscles tightening along with his entire body around Chris' fingers. Whatever he'd done, he obviously liked it. And Chris laughed, continuing his ministrations until Piers was mess, latching his lips onto his neck and sucking on the velvety tissue. The young soldier was no longer trying to hide his shame at how Chris was causing him to ache, almost on the edge of orgasm before Chris stopped, removing his fingers from inside of him.
"Ugh, no, no, no, don't stop, please don't stop." The sudden absence of flesh was all he had needed, Piers pushing as much of his body against Chris that he could, his voice raw. "No, please, just...I submit, please," his words were a jumble, barely coherent, driving Chris to the edge in his mind as he heard those lust laced pleads for him to keep fucking him with his fingers. He wanted to do so much more than that, he wanted to cut off the ropes and free him, get those hands on him again until they were both there and then he could have him for real. "Captain... please, fuck me, come on, please," his voice was urgent, arching up against his hands while Chris pried himself away, wiping his fingers on the scraps of Piers' shirt, taking in a deep breath before stepping away, looking at those begging eyes, and pouted lips, whimpering softer and softer before he hung his head, shoulders slumping together, knowing exactly what was coming.
"I win kid... Revenge is a bitch." Chris heaved himself off the ground, grabbing the keycard and setting it on the conference table, listening to the silent breathing of the boy in front of him, before pushing it away in his mind. He was a boy, but good lord he was amazing. "I sent a copy of the card to management to come clean up the room." He winced at the long groan that slipped from Piers' mouth, horrified as footsteps led to the door. "Course... if you make it through this in one piece. I'm always up for another round."
Work hard, play hard : )