The information had come as a shock to the RED Sniper. Hearing the revelation from the BLU Spies own mouth. That he and the RED Spy were related. That the RED would not stop until he destroyed his brother and every person his brother loved. It seemed like something out of a movie, only it was happening here at 2Fort, and the Sniper did not know what to think any more.
One part of him told himself that he should not care, that this was one of the BLU Spy's problems and not his, that he could quit the other at any given time and go back to the way things had been before he'd started sleeping with the enemy. Then there was the logical side of him that knew he'd already gone too far.
When he thought about the BLU, he would at first think of his suspicions towards the other, about the other's ulterior motives, about how and when the Spy would kill him. Lately these thoughts had changed to how the Spy's lips felt, how he smelled, how warm he was, until the Sniper had found that he would never be able to quit the BLU even if the situation with him was dangerous.
He remembered how sad his Spy had been explaining everything to him. How open he'd been. No secrets kept even from the enemy. The RED could have used this information for anything, yet he did not, and the Spy had trusted him not to - actually trusted the enemy!
That was, of course, if what he'd told the Australian had been true. He could have been using it to twist the older man around his finger. Forcing him to feel sympathy, toying with him, then killing him? No, it didn't make sense. He shook his head and growled, damn Spy getting into his head this way.
Nothing the Frenchman did every made any sense. If he'd wanted to kill the Sniper, he could have done it by now, and yet he did not. It had been three weeks since he'd first met the other, and most of the time the Spy had spoken to him casually in his nest, merely making conversation. Then there had been the kissing and the licking and the sucking, until finally it had all come down to what had happened three days ago.
The RED wasn't sure that love bloomed in a mere three weeks, but he knew that he was falling hard for the BLU Spy and nothing he could do could stop it. For the third time that combat, he moved to check that his door was locked. He knew that if the Spy wanted to get in, he'd find his ways, and the last thing the Sniper wanted was for a member of his team (or worse, the BLUs) to come barrelling in when he was feeling vulnerable. Of course the three day gap between today and the Spy's last visit was still worrying him. He flung himself down into his chair, not feeling the combat that day.
Something moved outside - a bird perhaps? - and then was silent. Before slowly, gently, the sound of someone rummaging about near the door became audible, the door handle turning and twisting until the door itself swung open revealing...nothing. Just the empty air. Then it closed again and seemed to lock itself before the air shimmered with the blue tint and the BLU Spy breathed out a sigh of relief, patting down his suit.
"Subtle." The Sniper was getting cocky, not even bothering to get up from his chair. he knew where his knife was if he needed it. But also he knew that a Spy could be deadly fast when he wanted to be.
"Why did you lock ze door? Are you making challenges for me now? Do you want me to start making ze effort to show you how much I want you?" The French accent was teasing, light hearted as always. The BLU was smoking a cigarette as per usual.
"It was in case anyone else felt like bothern me."
"Ah. Good thing I locked it again zen, non?" A soft chuckle. The Spy moved across the wooden floor, shoes clicking lightly, and then curled his long arms around the Sniper's neck. He seemed slightly more clingy than usual. Not as cocky. Content to just nuzzle into the back of the other's neck and inhale deeply.
Up until that point, the Sniper had been determined to call it off. To tell the BLU Spy to get out, so that he could live this war in peace. But feeling that comforting weight pressed against him, he shivered.
Not a word passed between them both for quite some time. Conversation was usually awkward due to the Sniper's suspicion that the other was out to kill him, but this time it seemed even more tense than usual. The Frenchman cleared his throat, "I confess, monsieur, I enjoyed what I did wiz you more zan I thought I would."
Strange how the first conversation was to be about this sudden confession. Why did the Spy think it was appropriate to do this now?
"Y'mean the other day?" The Sniper swallowed, his heart rate picking up, he knew the Spy would want to talk about it. 'It' had felt pretty damned amazing, but now, in the cold light of day, the older man felt embarrassed.
"Oui. Unless zere eez anuzzer event you are thinking of?" A soft smile. Then more silence. Nothing to follow that. An admission and then...nada. The Spy apparrantly had just wanted to get that statement out in the open.
"Well... it was... good for me too." Shutting his eyes, the Sniper let the young Frenchman rest against him, determined not to bring up the last scrap of information the Spy had given him. It was the last thing he needed.
The Spy laughed, "Zis is most strange, non? We are enemies, yet I feel closer to you zan even ze team I 'ave known for two years."
"I guess, some people just don't gel with their teams."
"Non. Especially if you are ze Spy. Zen ze world turns ze back on you." The BLU did not seem unhappy by this, nor even fazed by it, yet there was a melancholy air about him today. He was not his usual self, even pressing closer to the Sniper, closing his eyes and inhaling the other's scent deeply. The strange and sudden need to be intimate was welcomed, but it was also unnatural for the Spy to act this way. Even during intercourse, there was never a soft word spoken between them, save a confirmation that it was enjoyable or two.
"Y'alright Spy?"
"Of course. Why would you think uzzerwise?" As though coming out of his daze, the BLU leaned back, releasing his hold on the Sniper somewhat.
The Australian bit his lip, choosing his words carefully. It was never easy to get information out of Spy's. "Just. Thought y'seemed a bit out of it. Was a bit worried."
Another shake of the head, "Do not concern yourself wiz me, mon petit sniper. I often zink too much about things. For now I suppose I 'ave missed you more zan I care to admit, and I am quite content in just feeling you zere for once."
"You... missed me? Really?" He didn't mean to sound so pathetic, but the Spy's words stunned him a little.
"Oui. One does not reveal 'is face in darkness and spill secrets to a man he will not miss." The Spy shifted a little, stepping back and lighting another cigarette, crushing the other one into the ashtray on one of the sniper's tables. His hands were shaking.
Nervous?
No. Something was definately not right. Something had shaken the BLU Spy's usual grace and poise and had somehow terrified him to the point where he had needed some form of comfort, even if it was from a RED.
"Spy." The RED's voice dropped to a warning tone, he wasn't aware he had, least of all able to use on the BLU Spy. "Somethin's up."
"What? 'Ere?" The Spy's cobalt eyes gazed around nervously.
"Somethin's wrong. Don't lie t'me."
There was more silence and then the Spy sighed, "You, monsieur, will be ze death of me. I am usually able to hide myself from uzzers, but you can read me so well it seems."
A soft growl, "Always been good at readin people. Just cause ya wear a mask."
The BLU smiled gently and then sighed, sitting down in one of the stoolds in the nest. He ran one gloved hand over his masked head, as though smoothing back the hair underneath, and puffed on his cigarette more so. Whatever it was that had been bothering him, it was certainly something that he needed to think about before speaking, "...I 'ad a little run in wiz mon frere, I mean, my bruzzer a night ago."
"You... met with our Spy?" That had been unexpected.
"Oui. In ze town."
"I see." The Sniper wasn't sure how he was supposed to feel about that, he dug his nails into the arm of his chair.
It must not have been the ideal meeting, for the Spy had fallen silent again, his cold eyes locked onto the floor, unable to look the Sniper in the eye. Once or twice, he glanced up at the Sniper and opened his mouth as though to speak, before changing his mind. Thinking carefully.
When he did regain his tongue, his eyes trailed upwards to catch the Australian's own in their gaze, so sad, almost haunted, "...'E followed me back to ze BLU base."
"What? He went back to your base?" The older man stared at him. Did the Sniper really want to hear more?
"Hm." A nod. The Frenchman leaned back and took a long drag on his cigarette, the hand holding it shaking, his eyes downcast again. There was lonliness and confusion in those cobalt eyes, "I am not sure why I feel ze need to tell you zis. I thought about telling you straight away, but could not for ze life of me justify why I would spill my thoughts to my enemy, but I could not even tell my own teammates. No one to talk to. 'Owever, I just thought you needed to know."
"Needed t'know what? Spy? What happened." The Sniper's voice shook as he looked down, away from that steel blue stare.
"'E disguised 'imself as ze old Sniper. Came to me when I was in bed. Crept into my room." A choke from the Spy. Tears started to fall. Those jacket covered shoulders were shaking along with his head, almost violently, "Even wiz all my expertise...even wiz ze knowledge zat dead people did not come back to life...desipte training...I actually let myself believe it was 'im! Because...because I loved 'im...and I was lonely...and I 'onestly just wanted...wanted 'im to not be..."
It was a soulful confession that the Sniper hung on the every word of, letting the Spy cry into his hands and getting out all his emotion before continuing. By that point, of course, it was obvious what was coming next. Not something that the Sniper wanted to hear, but knew he had to.
From behind frightened sobs, the Spy continued, "I was so confused and saddened at first, but I knew it was 'im. I felt ze mask beneath zat hologram. Zen...zen 'e threatened me and forced me inside 'im. Raped 'is own bruzzer. Is sickening, non? Someone's bruzzer doing zat to zem? I felt so much sorrow, but zere was no one to 'elp. No one but...but you. I needed to see you as soon as I felt I could...face you again."
That, sick twisted fuck. For a moment, the Sniper could not speak, only listen and shake and pray that what was being said was all some horrible sick joke that the French liked to play, but the BLU's tears and sudden breaking down of all the walls between them told him his worst fears. It had been true. Trembling with rage, the Australian rose from his chair and reached for his blade, unable to process the multitude of thoughts that were running through his head, "Yeah... is sickening."
The Spy flinched at the sudden motion, standing and pulling out his butterfly knife, his cobalt eyes wide with shock. Misreading the situation obviously. He was shaking, "Mon...mon Sniper...I...I am sorry if I 'ave sickened you..."
"No. Not you." It was strange. The Sniper couldn't quite understand why this had made him so angry.
Was he outraged that someone could do this to their brother?
Or was it just because of the sudden realisation of how he actually felt for the Spy?
He moved to the door.
"What are you doing?" The Frenchman's mouth was open wide, "Please...I am sorry. I...do not leave me. I will leave you. I promise!"
"Can't believe he'd do that to you." Turning to that sorrowful face, the Sniper growled, baring his teeth, "I'm gonna go and show him a lesson."
"Non! You cannot!" Within seconds the gloved hands were over the RED's, pulling him back inside, urgency and horror in that French accent, a tone that the Sniper had never heard before, "If you do zis, zen ze company will find out about us! We will be put to death! I will not be able to see you again! Please...please...you do not realise zis but...but I need you...for zis moment..."
The Spy's frenetic terror almost knocked him out of his rage. Staring at him for a moment, the Australian bolted the door again, "... Sorry."
Once that small danger had passed, the Spy's hands left the other and he stepped back, apparrantly shaken himself. He shook his head, trying to regain his professional air, trying to compose himself.
It was a while before he could breathe properly again, before the tears were wiped away and the Spy coughed to clear his throat, trying to think without the emotional baggage getting in the way. Proffessionalism was key, "Going out zere all bushman-like would only get us both killed. I will deal wiz my bruzzer in my own time. I first need to get my 'ead around you."
"Round me? After what he fuckin did to ya!" His anger was tough to contain, the RED Sniper couldn't stop himself from feeling this was about the Frenchman.
"Please. Let me keep some of my pride. I will deal with 'im. I promise you zis." The BLU seated himself in the chair once more, lighting up another cigarette.
"...In truth, I did a lot of thinking after zis incident, yet it was not about mon frere as I would 'ave, non, probably should 'ave been thinking about. I thought about you, mon Sniper. I though about us. I wonder...where can you see zis going?" Leaning back against the chair again, the Spy rolled his cigarette between his fingers, "Me and you 'ave been talking and...exploring, shall we say, for over three weeks now. Nearly ze month, non? Where can you see us ending up?"
"Ending up?" The question had thrown him. "What do ya mean?"
"You and I? Are we to go back to being enemies? Or per'aps we are becoming more zen friends now? More zen relieving each uzzer's stress. You know what I mean, monsieur." Now those cold eyes were locked onto the Sniper.
"Don't think we can go back to being enemies." He sighed, sitting down on the edge of his bed. "And I figured we just skipped the bein friends part..."
A laugh from the Frenchman, "Oui. We did."
"So I guess that just means..."
"I fear I am more attracted to you zen I first thought. Zat you now mean ze same to me as ze previous sniper did." Blunt. The Spy spoke so bluntly, "Despite ze short weeks, I feel I know you better zan anyone on either team."
"Don't know whether that's a good thing or not." The Sniper smirked bitterly. "I've never been in this position before."
"Hm. Well zat eez for you to decide. I 'ave already told you what I think of you, so you may make up your own mind of whezzer my feelings are returned. Zis will not stop me coming 'ere either way." A wide smile from the BLU, him stalking over to the Sniper softly.
Now that did please the old Australian. He smiled back, turning to face the young Frenchman. "That's good. Wouldn't want ya to go away."
"You love ze spice I bring to your life, non?" The Spy was grinning now, already pressing the sniper back onto the bed, gloved hands trailing over soft skin.
The tension that had torn up the air between them moments before was nearly gone. All that remained was the problem they'd always had. One was RED, the other was BLU.
"I just... love ya bein around." The older man accepted the hand gladly. "Sad of me, just ta enjoy spendin some calm alone time with another person?"
"Non. Is not sad. As I mention time and time again, eet is human nature zat brings us togezzer. I do not wish to die horribly in a war, and neizzer do you, so zis seems to be ze better arrangement, non?" Already the Spy was removing his own gloves, placing them neatly to the side of him on the chair, the buttons on his jacket pulled open.
The Australian couldn't help but gaze up at him, he had to admit these past three weeks had been the strangest and most intensely brilliant of his life.
His French lover was always smiling, seemingly getting the best out of whatever life threw at him, so suave and gentle and almost loving. Whether or not it was still all an act no longer seemed to matter. The Spy knelt over the Sniper and tossed jacket and waistcoat to one side.
Were they going to do this again? Truth be told, the Sniper would have happily screwed around with him all day, every day. But the Spy was always in control, always knew how to treat him right.
"Remove zat jacket, mon amour..." Another nickname? The same one he'd accidentally blurted out last time, French voice thick with lust, each word rolling off his tongue, "Eet eez in ze way."
With a smirk, the older man obeyed, throwing his battered jacket onto the floor, laying back for him. Gently the Spy loosened his tie and unbuttoned his shirt, revealing that pale smooth chest, the mask that he wore gripping his neck tightly. One hand moved up the Sniper's red t-shirt to brush his bare fingertips against the other's flesh.
The Spy always had such cool hands, the Sniper couldn't help but shudder and flinch away. His body felt too sensitive to recieve such ministrations.
"Now ze shirt. Take all zis off. I want to explore you. I want to know mon amour inside and out. Every inch." This time the Spies voice dropped lower still, almost whispering huskily.
Gods his voice was filthy when he spoke like that. Instantly the Sniper thought of how his body had felt, stretching around the Frenchman as he was fucked. He shut his eyes and tugged his shirt over his head.
Sometimes, it was like the other could read his mind, smiling at every single motion the RED made. The Spy pulled back to unhook his own belt and remove his own trousers, leaving him in his mask, socks, and watch. He motioned to the Sniper's own trousers. A silent order.
Smiling awkardly and looking away, the older man unbuckled himself, dropping his trousers down his thighs.
Those cold cobalt eyes watched him almost hungrily. It would be hard to hold back, but the Frenchman felt he could manage it somehow. This time the socks and the watch came off also. There would always be the danger that the Sniper would want to see his face again, but after the last time that had happened and what had followed it, the Spy felt he could at least show another small sign of trust.
Stretching back, the Sniper kicked off the last of his clothes, only his socks holding back the shivers. Was it nerves or cold that stopped his body from keeping still?
Then the Spy was leaning over him, fingers stroking through his hair and trailing over his face, as though mapping out every inch of his rough features. Each path that the fingers traced was followed by soft kisses.
"This what ya had in mind Spy?"
"Oui. I will know you and you will...know me." A pause before the last part. Hesitance as the fingers brushed over the Sniper's collarbone, lips and teeth connecting with the Australian's neck.
Fuck, he'd hit a sensitive spot. The Sniper jerked and gasped softly, "Will I?" Could you ever know a Spy?
There was no answer to that. Teeth now touched across a shoulder, fingers gentle as they pressed against the strong chest, grazing the Sniper's nipples. Nipping at the Australian's navel, moving so teasingly slow. Covering every inch beneath that supposedly expert touch. Downwards slowly, almost reaching the point that the Sniper was inwardly begging would have some contact, and then back upwards again, stroking, as the Spy gazed down at him, their eyes meeting for a moment.
Bringing his own hands up to touch the Spy's taut exposed body, the older man grinned. It felt so right doing this. The Frenchman touched him because he wanted to, not through force or coersion.
So gentle with him, and so responsive in return, arching his back as the Sniper's rough fingers traced over his most sensitive areas. It was his turn. A soft cry as the Sniper's fingers danced over the base of his spine, "Oh! Z...zere! Again!"
"What? There, really?" There was an unmistakable cocky hint in the RED Sniper's voice as his fingers worked again.
Another shiver of desire, another soft gasp, naked flesh pressing close to the male beneath the Spy. The other closed his eyes, "Oh mon dieu! C'est sensationnel!"
There was enough pride there to cause the Sniper a subtle smirk. "Y'like that, babe?"
More muttering in French, along with "who are you calling 'babe'?", and then another soft wet cry sounded in the air of the nest. The BLU bit his lip and hissed, pleasure dripping from every syllable, "You are good wiz ze 'ands, mon amour."
"Gotta be... wouldn't be a very good 'bush man' if I weren't eh?" He stared up at the Spy, loving how he looked when he enjoyed himself.
The masked face was smiling, filled with happiness, much better than the melancholy gaze he'd had before. Both hands pressed against the sniper's chest, the Spy grinding gently against the other male beneath him, pressing himself close. "As much as I long to touch every inch of your body, I am tempted to lie back and see what you can do wiz zese 'ands."
"You'd let me? Even though I ain't that skilled at... pleasin guys? Y'quite demandin."
"Oh do silence zese ridiculous words." The younger male laughed, "I never claimed to be ze expert at pleasing ze male. I would let you explore every inch of me wiz zose 'ands."
"Every? Inch?" He swallowed, hand pausing.
The Frenchman seemed confident, "You would like zis?"
"... Lie down for me then." Sounding so serious, the Sniper shut his eyes.
Very slowly, teasingly so, the Spy removed himself from his seated position and knelt down softly on the bed, smiling at his Sniper before lying down on his back, arms above his head. "Like zis?"
Fuck yes. Hands ran up his soft, pale sides. The Sniper kissed him intently, a broad grin on his face.
"Damnit, you look so beautiful."
The Frenchman shivered, arching his back with the touches, smiling the whole while, spine curving gently and rising above the white sheets, "You flatter me."
"Nope. I mean I never thought much about naked guys. But damnit Spy, your body is... perfect."
This caused the other to chuckle lightly, "I thank you for ze compliments. I do try to look after myself."
"... I bet ya get that sorta talk all the time? I just never been with another man like this."
That soft unjudging gaze regarded the Sniper gently. The Spy shook his head, "Non. I do not get zis talk all of ze time because I do not reveal myself to anyone. You are one of ze lucky ones."
"Just don't want to sound insincere..."
"You could not if you tried." Humour in the Frenchman's voice, his masked face failing to cover the happiness that danced over his cobalt eyes and tugged at his lips.
Having seen a brief glimpse of the face beneath, the older Sniper longed to see that face again. It was almost surreal being this close to another man, yet not really knowing what he looked like.
The Spy caught the Sniper's gaze, "What?"
Stopping in shock, as though realising he'd been caught, "What? What I do?"
"You were staring at me wiz such intensity, mon amour, I feared I 'ad somezing on my face!" A soft chuckle from the BLU.
"Y'do..." he didn't want to sound so grim. Simply, the Australian wanting to be closer to the young Spy.
"Oh?" One of the Frenchman's thin hands came up to touch gently across his own sharp features, "Where?"
Sitting up slightly so as to run a strong, rough hand along the top of the Spy's mask, down his cheek, the Sniper looked at him very hard.
"Right here."
Realisation dawned on the Spy and for a moment he said nothing. There seemed to be so many thoughts running through his head, those cold and calculating eyes trying to read every inch of the Sniper's intent.
He seemed to be having trouble speaking, forming his words, his hands twitching and then forcing themselves still again, before moving and stopping.
The BLU breathed out a soft sigh, closing his eyes and sparing the Sniper the intensity of his gaze, before his fingers touched over his own mask. Twitching, nudging, playing with the fabric, like a child toying with a plaster that needed to be ripped off. He was chewing his lip, considering it more so, before his voice sounded in the room, quiet and almost meek, "You...you promise...you promise never to tell? You realise...zat if I do zis...zere will be no going back for eizzer of us? I will be showing you my final trust..."
Kneeling, hands stroking the Spy's waist, tugging him closer.
"I understand... I promise I'll never tell another soul." Fixing him with his dark stare, the Sniper tried to reassure him, and kissed his masked forehead.
The Frenchman considered for a moment more. There was nothing that the Sniper did not know. He knew about his relationship with the previous Sniper. Knew every inch of the BLU before him, having touched over his face already in darkness. Shared sorrow and joy and love and lust in a mere three weeks. Had seen the calm and collected Spy break down in tears. Listened to secrets that would incriminate the pair of them if anyone found out.
What more was there to tell?
Did the Spy even need to think of this any more?
Determined, the Spy glanced up, a new fire of passion that seemed to turn the cobalt gaze into that of burning steel. He nodded to himself, "...every inch. I promised you every inch..."
Then slowly the mask was rolled upwards, revealling the slender pale neck and the start of the Spy's strong jawline, where it stopped for a moment. The younger's hands were shaking. It was obviously difficult for him.
He seemed to be counting in his head, whispering, his fingers twitching with each number, "Un...deux...trois..."
Then the mask was gone, whipped off quickly so he could not change his mind, the Spy flinching and closing his eyes as though expecting some form of reprecussion from the act.
The only repercussion was the hesitant, tentative feeling of fingers slipping into the Spy's blond hair. Breathing out in a hushed voice the Sniper whispered,
"Wow..."
The Spy could have only been described as French. Every feature of his face was sharp and pointed, his nose thin, his cobalt eyes showing up clearly in contrast to his pale skin. His blonde hair was long, perhaps almost to his shoulders, tied back and gelled so that it would fit under his mask.
He was biting his lip, "Wow? Zis is all you 'ave to say? 'Wow'?"
"Thank you." Strong arms were already lifting him up and laying him down on the messed up bed.
A soft blush made its way across the Spy's cheeks. He laughed, more out of nervousness, one hand smoothing back the mask messed blonde hair, "Why...why do you thank me for zis?"
"Thank you for trustin me." The strain had been visible on the Spy's face, he knew it had to have been tough.
Another laugh. The Spy nodded and smiled, "As zey say 'throw ze caution away wiz ze wind', non? Ze worst you could do iz tell everyone zat I am blonde I suppose."
It was said in a calm and humoured manner. No offense or caution left. The BLU was still smiling as he reached up to brush a hand through the Sniper's own hair. His voice dropped to a whisper, "Now you know me as I know you."
"Not quite yet..." There was a smile playing across the Australian's face as he pushed the other down once more, gazing down with adoration reflected in his eyes. The Spy gave a soft moan as rough fingers found his soft flesh once more, smiling back at the other.
"Still got some explorin' to do..."