Warning! This fic is naughty. If it's not your thing, sexually explicit shit, then feel free to skip it, you won't miss anything. Other than Scout and Sniper messin' around.
Scout finds it all so enthralling; the sound of Sniper's regulatory breathing, the auricular expulsion of air from his nostrils hitting the drum of Scout's ear in a predictable pattern Scout times with the visuals of his rising frame.
There was no noise from outside. Scout found it all so strange the way there was apparently nothing to be heard from the forest surrounding the van—then again there was also no guarantee that Sniper had even parked them in a forest; Scout had no clue where they were in actuality, and to be honest, knowledge of his current whereabouts interested the young man very little. Particularly in the wake of the man who lies next to him.
"Mmhn..." Sniper moans subconsciously at the explicit feel of Scout's tape wound hands gripping around his watch donned wrist, the Bostonian tugging tenderly on his arm so as to check the time.
'Three thirty three AM. Fuckin'weird'
Scout blushes as Sniper lets out an exhausted sigh, shifting just enough to demonstrate his sense of groggy perception. The Australian leaves his eyes clenched shut just enough to leave Scout with a question as to whether the man had been aware enough to notice his Scout staring at him for the last hour.
Scout grows a blissful light headed as the watch adorned arm Scout had earlier commandeered circles itself to wrap around his frame, pulling him closer against the bare chest of the experienced huntsman.
Scout shivers pleasantly at the feel of his cool chest against his lean back, indulging in the soft contact of flesh upon flesh. How awake was Sniper?! the young man twists so he now faces his man of intrigue, his bare legs smoothing against the thin linens of the Sniper's pants.
His face is relaxed, all signs and hints of strain and worry leaving nothing of themselves. In a tangential shot of his thoughts Scout can't help but wonder what it was Heinrich and Mikhail were doing. The two—a perfect couple, the role models of which Scout based his romantic fantasies, there was no way they weren't kissing and scrunched away in each other's grip.
'Now would be the time to practice', Scout concludes, 'now when Jack is asleep and can't do nothin' or call me a fag. And with the finality of approval from his conscious Scout brings his hand to Sniper's cheek, darting his eyes to the mounds in the blanket from their legs before drawing the courage to look him head on.
It takes its time, Scout's gaze, in no rush as he lets his eyes trail their way back onto the rugged profile. Scout's other arm finds its way through the comforters and his hand extends so that he may better rake it through the thickness of Sniper's deep brown hair, Scout grinning slightly as he drags a finger along his sideburns.
His legs cannot stretch anywhere without running into Sniper's incredibly lanky ones, Scout resting one on top of the older man's thigh and hip. Scooting closer, he drapes his arms and lets his fingers hook loosely around his neck, Scout's breath fanning out in the crook of it.
Sniper's hairy arm still holds Scout against him by his waist, and Scout can feel the palm of Sniper's hand clench as he squirms a little. The act elicits from the Aussie a parting of his eyelids, his pupils instantly dilating as they take on the view of the darkened camper.
"D'you ever stop movin'?!" Sniper murmurs affectionately, Scout hardly able to understand the sultry Australian mumblings in the man's muffled, tired state. "Twitchy little bugger even in your sleep, s'no wonder you're so good at capt'rin' like ya are..." Sniper smiles weakly as the sleep induced paralysis exits his body, his own smile widening at Scout's timid one.
"Didn't mean t'wake ya up, wombat..."
"S'alright—you're in a right lovin' mood, all tangled in my arms—you normally hate it when I get too close..."
"'s not true," Scout hoists his head up by his elbow and stares at the Australian. "I never hated it..."
"Well what's up, love? With all the touchin'?"
"I just—you know, I really am sorry 'bout yesterday'n everything—"
"I know, love, y'don't have t'worry 'bout me bein' angry at ya, 's nothin' t'lose sleep over..." Sniper mumbles before craning his head slightly and capturing Scout's lips in his briefly, rustling the boy's recently trimmed light brown hair.
"Y'gonna tell me what's with the roamin' hands, love?" Sniper asks with genuine interest, all ears for his contemplative Scout.
"You don't like it...?"
"No—'s not what I mean, just wonderin' why you're so affectionate all'o'sudden—'s not like you, Lawrence,"
"I dunno—I just noticed—this is gonna sound real fuckin' stupid, but—I saw my Doc'n Heavy lockin' lips'n shit, right? Totally on accident. And, well, now anytime I see'em, they're a fuckin' romance factory,"
"Mm," Sniper nods, Scout taking a breath and continuing.
"I dunno, I just feel like—we ain't—we don't really, y'know, do none'o that..."
"None'o what, makin' out in public? If I have t' tell ya why, Lawrence, I might have t'call ya a little dense—"
"No, just—y'know, makin' out anywhere!"
"Right..." Sniper mumbles gruffly, Scout watching the expression of the man as it turns into serious thoughtfulness. "I'm sure it has somethin' t'do with the fact that you always called me a fag'nd were always gay bashin' anytime I tried t'get ya t'realise you had feelin's for me..."
"Whatever..."
"I wasn't goin' t'get emotionally invested in a bloke who couldn't accept himself for who he was..."
"Meaning?!"
"Meanin' ya can't love other people 'til you love yourself; I always knew you were prolly the biggest homo in 2Fort, love—pretty sure you knew it yourself—but what was I supposed to do with a young man who couldn't come t'terms with that fact? Bugger 'im 'nd have him hate me for it ten minutes later?!"
"Yeah, I—I guess you're right..." Scout sighs, and Sniper watches him as his mind settles on Sniper's words.
"I mean, I was always a little confused where you got the idea from that tryin' t'kiss me wasn't gay, but I went with it, I know likin' blokes can be hard t'digest..."
Scout shrugs.
"Prolly jus' so desperate for it t'not be true that you didn't know what the Hell ya felt, aye?"
Sniper runs a hand down Scout's cheek and shoulder, squeezing it firmly.
"'Nd what kinda friend or whatever else would I be, allowin' someone I claim t'love t'rush into a relationship so confused like that?"
"Yeah..."
"Plus, you've never struck me as the romantic type; everyone's different, love, so naturally no two relationships are the same,"
"I don't see what you're tryin' to say..."
"Well," Sniper grins before beginning his tale. "Sometimes maybe two people beat each other durin' sex. Maybe sometimes another two're always snoggin' 'nd are overly cutsey with the romance shit—sometimes relationships are arranged; sometimes relationships fall apart because dames have a tendency to look at what so'n'so got his girlfriend for Valentine's Day, or took her here for their anniversary—some couples don't even remember theirs!"
"So what?"
"In other words, don't look at them'n feel like you have to compensate for'em, or try t'build your relationship exactly like theirs,"
"I ain't, maybe I just want to kiss you every now and then, too! 'Nd not just for sex, but because—you know..."
"Hmm,"
"What, you don't wanna kiss me?!"
"'S not that, and if I didn't want to, then I wouldn't be sittin' here next to ya, barely clothed'nd resistin' the urge t'do so—'s just I've never been a mushy one, 'nd anytime I've tried, you accuse me'o bein' a pedophile, that'll stop any sort of libido a bloke'as..."
"Well, I'm tired of denying it, of beatin' around the truth, ya know? I love you, slugger, and you're my boyfriend—I ain't gonna deny it anymore..."
"Ditchin' you by yourself in the forest really did a numbah on you, eh?" Sniper chuckles, resting his hand so it cradles Scout's neck, his thumb brushing against his cheek. "You're a right cutie when you blush—"
"Fuck, man, I ain't cute! And I ain't goin' soft, I just—" Scout shrugs. "...wanna be your boyfriend, I guess..."
"I've always hated the term 'boyfriend', 's what airheaded high school sheilas call the first bloke that's ever given'em attention in their lives,"
"What, boyfriend?"
"It sounds so juvenile,"
"So what else am I supposed to call ya?"
"Dunno,"
"My maaaannnn?!"
"Ugh—Christ, no—"
"I dunno," Scout mumbles.
"Agh, remember when I said I'd ruin ya? Well I was right! Blushin'n you don't have a clue what you want—'s not the Scout I know!" Sniper teases playfully, Scout's expression soft and contemplative. Sniper had never seen him so thoughtful before...
"I ain't never gonna change, wombat, but that doesn't mean I don't want ya..."
"Now I'm not sure where you're gettin' at, mate..."
"I know we don't usually kiss or none o'that, but—I—I fap to ya a lot," he explains heavily, Sniper's eyes widening considerably.
"You lend yourself a hand over me? 's flatterin', love," he chuckles, eyebrow raised as he observes Scout, his expression determined to better suit his strange mood.
"I—I mean, not just to ya—it gets me off when I pretend it's you touchin' me," Scout whispers, and he can see Sniper tense up after this statement—though it certainly isn't from repulsion...
"Really now...?" Sniper growls in a warm, smiling interest, his voice, Scout notices, slips into that same carnal rumble he adopts under the ecstasy of battle; the same whispers he'd hear every now and then during a mission when Sniper was landing a particularly good shot or domination.
"How long's this been goin' on?"
"A couple months after our first kiss in your van—remember? when your Scout kicked my ass? But I ain't no fag, so I wasn't gonna say nothin',"
"Not really followin' your logic, just 'cause it's your hand pumpin' ya'n not mine, doesn't make much of a difference if the thought that makes ya all riled up is myself—as of now, you're a 'fag' whose left hand is his bugger buddy, which I don't really understand 'cause ya got a real one sittin' right next to ya—ya know, your maaaaaan..."
"Fuck you..."
"I mean, if you're gonna be a 'fag', might as well go all the way'n get what it is you want..."
"How was I s'pposed t'ask, man?! Hey Jack, will you touch my dick?!"
"Well, yeah," Sniper responds dully, Scout letting out an airy laugh of disbelief. "I certainly woulda said yes, mate,"
Scout shifts a little, his cheeks still red.
"I've been waitin' for ya to, actually—for a while I thought about just tyin' you up and just gettin' it over with..."
"You're sick, wombat!"
"Not if you want it too,"
"Well, when will you?"
"Come on up t'the nest sometime, love, I'll play with ya a little,"
"Why do we gotta wait 'til then, though?" Scout asks with a strain in his voice. "Why can't you do it now?"
"I mean, I—I can, if that's what you want..."
Scout nods, and Sniper swallows a little harshly, lips pursing as the sight of Scout's body only reinforces Scout's suggestion of touching him now.
"I don't wanna move too fast for ya..."
"I don't see how it's too fast..."
"Are you a virgin?" Sniper asks, rolling his eyes at Scout's stiffness.
"I ain't gonna make fun o'ya, I just wanna know..." Sniper assures him, Scout nodding sheepishly.
"But it ain't 'cause I couldn't get any, I just—y'know, there weren't any hot girls..."
"No lookers even in a place like Boston?" Sniper asks incredulously, shrugging nonetheless.
"...Y'sure you're up to it, love?" Sniper asks him cautiously, Scout nodding curtly.
"'Cause I'm not gonna stop when I finally got ya," he sighs, tossing the blanket off himself.
"What do you mean by that—?!"
"I won't do nothin' you don't want, I promise ya—but I also don't want you freakin' out on me if I pull your undies down,"
"I won't freak out, dude!"
"I don't wanna scare you away..."
"Oh gimmie a break! I ain't fuckin' thirteen! I'm grown and I know what I want!"
"Alright, C'mon up on my lap, love, I'll give ya somethin' sweet..." Sniper jerks his head softly, Scout absolutely petrified over the simple command.
"See, this is what I mean by you freakin' out..." the Australian growls, though it seems to have encouraged the Scout to listen, and he watches as Scout crawls closer to him.
"Right, come on up," Sniper grabs hold of his hips, pulling Scout onto his lap, who squirms in an attempt to make himself comfortable.
"Nnm," Sniper mumbles as his eyes wander to the considerably large bulge that had long since formed in the young man's briefs, the man biting down on his lip, trying not to allow the sight arouse him too much.
"Guess you really are excited..."
"I don't say shit if I don't mean it," Scout snaps, hooking his arms around his neck for support.
"Don't just stare at it, wombat—" Scout snaps, Sniper letting his index finger hook itself in the waistband of his briefs, a crazed smile curling along his lips. "Touch it already,"
"You gotta savour it love—can't just rush somethin' like this—I wanna enjoy it..." Sniper growls.
"'s just a handjob..."
"Well it'll feel a lot better than one for your virgin arse..."
"Literally or figuratively?"
Sniper groans at the horrible pun, though is relieved to see the jab relaxes Scout a bit.
"Alright, try to sit still..." Sniper tries to instruct, though Scout tugging at his pajama bottoms most certainly catches his attention.
"Take 'em off!" Scout beams, and Sniper rolls his eyes as he slips off the pajama trousers, leaving him in his own underpants, and now it's Scout's turn to grin viciously at the Australian's erection.
"Damn, wombat, you're packin' some heat in there!" Scout laughs raucously, his eyes curious as Sniper leans over and opens up the bedside drawer, producing a roll of duct tape—
"Hey, hey, hey, what the FUCK—?!"
Sniper laughs as he wrangles Scout, moaning in the Bostonian's ear as his struggling causes him to brush against his hard on, though his nimble fingers manage to tape the boy's mouth shut, the silver adhesive gleaming in the natural light that draws itself inward from outside.
Scout glares furiously at the Australian, who massages the boy's erection hungrily through his briefs. Sniper grins triumphantly at the muffled but clearly furious rantings of the boy who doesn't enjoy having his mouth taped shut.
"Only you would talk so much that you wouldn't bloody notice a hand gropin' your cock!" Sniper booms, though he uses his other hand to catch the Bostonian who threatens to fall backwards off his lap, the pleasure both relaxing and shutting him up for a change.
"Right, right," Sniper beams, stretching more of the tape and binding the boy's wrists in one fluid motion.
Sniper exhales a shaky breath, the sight of the helpless Scout sitting on his lap, horny as all get up with what may as well be no clothing threatening to drive him mad.
"Alright if I take a peek?" Sniper asks the young man in a mockingly soft voice, ignoring Scout's muffled ranting, tugging on Scout's briefs.
"Mmn...would you take a gander at this little beaut'," Sniper whispers as he slides the briefs from Scout's waist, his fully erect cock exposed in all its grandeur. He brings his grey eyes to Scout's, both pair narrowed, though the Bostonian's from a moody haughtiness, his Sniper's only an indication of the doom he means to reign upon him.
Scout's muffled moans grow louder as Sniper brings his lips to kiss gently upon the tip, his fingers wrapped around the thick shaft and pumping lightly, Scout's whimpers and writhing a good enough reward in the Sniper's eyes.
Sniper feels as Scout shifts so as to find a comfortable position, and It doesn't take long for Scout to feel the entirety of his manhood encased in Sniper's grip, the Australian, much to Scout's pleasure, visibly enjoying the act as much as Scout himself.
The hand jerks him just hard enough, just fast enough, and for someone who'd been out of practice for fifteen years, Sniper sure did know what Scout wants...and yet he bites down tighter on his lips behind the tape, although wanting to show Sniper just how good of a job he is doing without being too noisy.
"It's alright, we're the only ones out here," he hears Sniper mutter in that same reserved mumble he typically speaks in, but it's almost sexy, as if jerking off his best friend is every day business for him. Hell, Scout would have to see to it that it will be.
"Now if you behave, I'll keep it off," Sniper growls at the attentive Scout in his lap, tugging gently at the duct tape and slipping it off his lips, Scout instantly planting his against Sniper's.
It's almost as if they don't move at all. Their lips hardly massage those of the other despite the extent of their kiss. Sniper wonders where in the world finesse must've gone as they break apart, strands of saliva the only connection to show for their actions.
But Sniper doesn't care, all he can think about are the lips of Scout as he meets them again, whose long, thin fingers curl around the base of his neck.
He smiles warmly as he feels the tips of Scout's fingers sliding along his bronzed chest, the muscles he'd gained from the Outback complimenting his build. He feels Scout grip onto his shoulder, his other hand still stroking along his front, Scout catching a glimpse of soft brown hairs that trail down below into Sniper's boxers...
Sniper calls Scout's name, the Bostonian beaming as he lets his eyes close, bringing his lips to Sniper's broad neck. the action causes the Australian to grind a bit upwards with his hips, moaning instantly at the feel of his manhood rubbing against Scout's—and suddenly the fact that his is still concealed in his underwear nearly enrages him, who forgets his frustration due to a momentary jolt of inexplicable feeling that erupts throughout his body —
Scout's throaty yelps and arousing moans refuse to cease the more Sniper's hand tugs at his cock.
"'s this alright, love?"
"Fuck, wombat—don't stop..." he gasps, falling against Sniper's frame.
"Shit" Scout moans, and he feels himself dampen as Sniper takes him into his mouth, his lips wrapping around the soft tip and along the shaft, his silent and contemplative friend pleasuring him with the ease of casualty, like getting Scout off was as easy as sniping, or pissing in jars—
"You sure know what the Hell it is you're doing for not having done this in forever!" Scout hisses as Sniper's tongue slides along the underside of his erection.
"I've had a bit of time to think about it, love," Sniper responds matter-
of-factly before lapping his length in his warm mouth again, Scout moaning and gasping, his hands curling against his neck.
His eyes tighten even more shut as he can feel the throbbing both in his head and in his head, and he knows from experience that his release isn't much farther now—
"Hey, what in the fuck, Jack?!" Scout roars as Sniper releases him, a feral grin spread across his face.
"Patience, Lawrence," Sniper rolls his eyes, and Scout scoffs and folds his arms, though he moans as his forehead falls gently against Sniper's, the older man taking both cocks into his hand.
"Shit—!" he moans, both of their lengths wrapped in Sniper's palm, the friction causing Scout to moan huskily from involuntary ecstasy. He lets an eye peek open, and the expression on his Sniper's face alone nearly does him in, the distinct detail of Sniper's cock grinding mercilessly against his own causing an earth shattering pleasure to well within him, Sniper moaning every time their cockheads bump together—
"Y'gonna gimmie somethin' nice'n sweet for all my trouble, love?" Sniper asks him curiously, and Scout calls his name again, the muscles in his hips locking as he feels warm jets of wetness shoot from his lower body, and he can't do anything as every nerve within him burns from passionate contentment.
He sits there in Sniper's lap, heaving, his hand submerged well into the previously neatly combed hair Sniper had adjusted for himself. There were simply no words to describe it; he finally understood what there was to even understand, why so many of his comrades only had sex on the mind. Hell, that wasn't even sex, that he'd just had with Sniper, but damn, shit—
He catches his breath, and Scout opens his eyes blissfully, grinning at the Australian, who still holds them both in his hands, pumping viciously. The come seeping from Scout's cockhead works as lubrication; it casts a shine along Sniper's manhood, and Scout can barely watch as jets of semen erupt from the man's own large cock, Sniper massaging the sticky liquid into both of their slowly dying erections.
"...you ever see your Medic'n Heavy do that?!" Sniper chuckles darkly, panting and bringing his finger into Scout's mouth, the young man lapping up the small streaks of come with his tongue.
"I can be pretty inspirin' myself, gremlin."