Interrogation had never seemed like such an appropriate word until now. Piers' hands were as experienced at this as they were, stroking and caressing his rifle, no wonder he never missed a shot, Chris couldn't miss either with those things coaxing guttural purrs from the back of his throat. They were intentionally teasing and finding out the little twists and grazing touches that made Chris' skin jump, twitch at feeling the dips of his muscles through Chris' overly tight B.S.A.A. regulation shirt, and with every second that passed with their mouths devouring each other Chris felt like he was starting suffocate with this thing constricting his air around his thick throat from the overly taut collar. This was the perfect kind of interrogation... except... Piers was the one doing all the interrogating, asking him silent questions with those finger tips dancing over tight knit fabric, clawing gently over mountains in his muscled back and Chris was answering with fervor, groaning and grinding his hips against the younger man who adamantly urged more sounds from him. Like they were all he needed to hear. That smooth body underneath him was so silky, like velvet. And Chris couldn't help but fully right himself again, Piers' back on the table with his legs parted on either side of the captain's hips. Chris' hands explored the lithe form under his hands, reaching a hand up and teasing a hard nub of flesh, pinching, gently grazing at first and then harder the more it seemed to make the young man squirm. He was addictive, and each pinch made him shift weight onto his shoulder blades, spine pushing off the table top, making a single soft whimper.

Twenty years old or not, it was evident he'd never been treated his age. Even Jill knew how old this boy was now and she'd let him be completely abused at the hands of the B.S.A.A.. There were huge purpling bruises formed, and still forming all over his body. There knuckle marks from the pounding he'd taken at their hands. Strangely they didn't feel out of place on him, just another mark of how well above his years he was. His ribs were obviously the target of a lot of frustration on their part. They decided to use him as a punching bag in here and he hadn't spilled a single thing to them. No wonder he was so spiteful toward Chris for telling him he had no intentions of hurting him. His hard physique, was really quite impressive for his age... With how hard he was panting from the mix of pleasure that Chris teased him with, and the powerful hurts that the B.S.A.A. had caused him, he was a perfect mixture of both worlds, his youthful olive skin stained with sweat and battered bruises. There was no way this kid was getting away from Chris this time, not with how close they'd come so many times. He still had a job to do though..., and unlike those assholes who didn't mind kicking the shit out of a child, he was going to tease every beautiful confession from those full pouted lips until he milked every answer and then some out of that kid. Oh hell he wanted a lot more than answers, watching those hazel eyes clenched shut when he let his nail stroke over the warm heated flesh.

Calloused pads switched sides, twisting the nub of flesh under his fingers, and flicking his forefinger over it. "What's your name?" Something simple, always establish a baseline make absolutely sure that this little vixen wasn't going to lie his way out of this. Chris was eying the way Piers was whimpering under each pinch, stopping to lean, pursing his own lips and blowing cool air over that nipple, hearing as gasp as his tongue darted out, running in a circle around that singular target, Piers' body so sensitive to the touch, reaching out to grab Chris only to have his hands smacked away. "Name soldier," Chris continued to command, lapping his nipple and pulling it into his mouth.

"Nivans." Piers gasped, as the words dropped from his lips, Chris nipped, pulling out a long string of moans before he threatened to pull away. "Nivans, Piers Victor." The entire thing earned him exactly what he was struggling for, Chris' lips sealing over the flesh and suckling, rasping his tongue over that sensitive tissue, pulling back when he felt Piers' grinding his hips up against Chris' larger frame, chuckling at the sudden reversal of their roles. Chris was always at Piers' mercy when his hands were on him, but like this Chris had the upper hand. Urging moans and tenor purrs from the body beneath, hitched breathes catching his throat when stubble brushed smooth skin biting down enough to earn a yelp, urging hands finding the back of Chris' head, weaving in his hair as those lips continued they're perverse tease of that lithe torso. Piers needed a good reminder to him that he sits at the kiddy table, and that Chris calls him when he is to be served, not the other way around.

"Mmm, good boy... so how old are you, Piers Victor Nivans?"

Piers wasn't really listening, functioning on autopilot for the most of this, his eyes flickered shut while Chris pulled back up to look down on the younger man who's verbally and physically assaulted him enough throughout the last few months that he'd infuriated the entire B.S.A.A. Rough palms traversed the planes of those smooth pectorals, down by the scar on his hip where Chris had tagged him by the lakeside, that way he'd tugged down those loose fitting pants with the intention of just being a flat out cock tease. Nails scrapped over the fresh tissue, cramming his huge splayed hand down to held him in place against the chilling table top. Each second the rogue agent refused to answer Chris' hand continued its downward drag until it cupped the fabric between his legs, trapping his thighs apart with his own huge frame. Rubbing him roughly through the pants, Chris was getting a good feel of the reaction he was causing with all the attention to that younger, muscled frame. "Twenty..., an... and," Chris rubbed again, Piers words tripping up in his mouth, moaning at the delicious friction that it was causing, "352 days... Don't stop captain.." Piers' moans were completely unabashed, chewing his lower lip with each manhandled grinding of forceful palming against those fatigues, looking for some place to put his wandering hands, one finding his own pretty boy hair, and the other sliding across those lean pectoral muscles finding the place Chris had been teasing earlier with his mouth.

"Who are your parents?" Chris voice was low, dangerous, intentionally challenging of the youthful sniper that was hunting for a place to rest his eyes, embarrassment reddening those pretty young cheeks, while Chris gave another measured massage to his groin, roughly, leaning down once to dip his tongue into Piers' belly button, making olive skin break out in goosebumps. "Their names and ranks... come on Piers, who's your daddy?" Chris smirked watching the red burn on Piers' features, blush slathering his perfectly soft countenance, his other hand coming up to cup Piers' chin forcing him to look him in the eye while that other hand forced unadulterated moans. He was so pretty, how was he that sinfully delicious, chewing on that lower tier like a lifeline while eying Chris' mouth and mutely begging for a kiss? "Let's hear it soldier, who's your daddy?" That was all lust, he couldn't help how twisted that sounded when it came out, a soft tenor moan dragged out of his chest when the captain gripped and tightened his hold on the stiffening erection between his legs. Kid was twenty years old and he was 34, it wasn't as though it didn't make sense for him to get an exaggerated rush out of wicked boy's trembling thighs.

"Nivans, Dean; major...," Chris squeezed tighter his gunner gloves bunching the fabric in his hand, loving how that voice hitched and broke when he squeezed and rubbed again, his voice all but hoarse shouting in the shock of Chris' ministrations. "Lieutenant Grerson, Anya."

"See... such a good boy when you want to be." Chris couldn't help the continued attention, releasing his hold on the fabric between the younger man's legs, gasping as though he'd been holding a breath for almost five minutes while Chris adjusted his hold on him, gripping those almost slim muscled hips and grinding their hips together. The layers of material between them felt paper thin, his own hardening erection rubbing hypnotically against those fantastically round cheeks. Throwing his head back as they were practically mock fucking in the interrogation room, groaning with each grind and thrust, loving the friction, Chris couldn't help getting caught up in the depraved whorish moans of the man under him. If anything though he'd do away with all these clothes, get him down to debased and naked, get a look at the boy who had been out playing him in every facet until now. And just the reminder of those teasing flirty comments and lusty hazel eyes were making him push harder. "Who are you working for Nivans? What's the name of the outfit that hired you?" This malicious little boy had been pretending at being a soldier for too long, behind closed doors with just the two of them, it was about time he shut his mouth and taught him who was in charge. Chris was the master of this game, the master of the battle field, this little bitch would learn not to play with fire. These were the important questions, and he was having trouble forming those questions with how amazing this felt, the parted thighs at his hips clasping around him at the ankle to hold Chris to him, those amazing ab muscles tightening as Piers pulled himself upright, arms lounging loosely around his neck, sucking at his stubbled jawline. "ARrrgh, what's the name Piers?" Mmm... could he feel how hard he was getting at the idea of laying this kid out flat and finally taking what belonged to him, grinding his cock against each other? He wanted to satisfy all his wants and bury himself in this tempered slick frame.

"It.. it's nnnhh, oh captain, please," those little pleas were driving Chris insane, grinding their hips together harder and locking them, feeling their erections brush through the fabric, and suddenly overwhelmed with the want to feel that sweaty tan skin against his own. Abruptly; experience, and battle hardened mitts jerked the belt holding Piers' pants in place, jamming his hands down the back of his fatigues and taking two handfuls of that fine body, picking him up off the table, gripping and groping the body clinging to him, still nuzzled in his neck while humming pleasant moans in his ear, huskily driving Chris to the edge. "They're called Il Veltro, they hired me just after I went rogue... guess someone thought I was good enough for them..." Chris knew the name, he'd fought against those crazy assholes with Jill a long time ago, hearing the name again was just infuriating, squeezing those globes of flesh in his hands, damaging the tissue and bruising him further as punishment. Chris had the muscle mass to hit boulders to pieces and the strength to fight Albert Wesker, carrying Piers around didn't even warrant thinking about. Pushing him up against the wall and using it to pull him up higher, tipping his torso back to get a good look at the younger man's body and where their pelvises met, his cock nudged against the backside of his ass. It would be so easy to take this too far, but it had already gotten there... they were passed too far and Chris just wanted to dive in head first.

"The name of the man who hired you Piers... I want it." That last bit was referring to this, his hands yanking out of those fatigues and slipping around front, using the wall as a brace for Piers as he tipped back enough to be able to reach his hands between them, undoing the belt, yanking the tongue through the loops and finally removing it with a soft clink as the buckle released, thumbs warring for control of the button and zipper. He wasn't even bothering to look at Piers, he just wanted these pants off so he could see the rest of this fevered body. The button relented, then each tooth of the zipper., almost jamming with how quickly he rushed to pull them open He was too busy concentrating on the fabric covering those hips to really care what Piers' answer was, but he had to get the answers one way or another, and Piers seemed to enjoy getting grilled. Probably enjoyed getting pounded too the way those lips were always teasing him with little innuendos or how talented he'd been giving Chris a good jerk at the lake side. It was his turn to jerk this little boy around til he got the picture. Chris wasn't a boy, he was a man, he worked hard, and he played hard, fast and hard. He'd leave him spent and reeling.

"Didn't have a name. Never asked. Paid me with a wire transfer. Shift your hips captain." Confidence was returning to Piers' voice, arching his weight against his shoulders on the wall, reaching both hands below them, undoing Chris' belt far more efficiently than how long Chris had taken, throwing it aside. "Put me down captain." Chris obeyed the command without a second, Piers slinking against the wall and dropping to his knees to pull the rest of Chris' fatigues off, yanking them over his boots for the captain to step out of, leaving him in the black boxer briefs that constrained his pulsing erection that was practically weeping to be released, heat warming his fingertips while he traced Chris' girth, shoving his hips back and climbing to his feet. "Get in the chair." He was throwing commands around at ease, Chris obeying, his massive thighs drifting open, patting his lap with his right hand. "They hired me for seven jobs. Three installed payments, one for supplies in the beginning, once when it was half done, and I get paid again when the job is complete." Piers moved with a sway of his hips, stepping around behind the chair, hands teasing huge expanse of that massive chest while Chris took in slow lethargic inhaled breaths breathing in Piers naturally intoxicating body scent, snarling when Piers' fingertips threatened to pinch his nipples before traveling lower, nuzzling his cheek and whispering in his ear. "I have to admit, it was a means to an end... I always wanted to my hands on this body...," his voice was husky and just centimeters from Chris' ear, heavy breathing making Chris groan, those nimble fingers doing their sinful dance down his body, tracing those sexy muscles of his V, down to his straining erection, palming him through his boxer briefs.

"Wha... what was, the," Chris was tripping on his words, as those talented fingers looped the waist band with the other hand, reaching inside Chris' undergarments and filling his right hand with that impressive girth, sucking on the lobe of Chris' ear. The rolls had reversed so quickly from the master interrogator to the young boy having his way with a man who had dominated Albert Wesker. It was sensational, being handled with such expertly knowing hands, letting him handle his body like an instrument, orchestrating predominately deep groans of satisfaction. He could feel the pressure behind mahogany eyes as sexual gratification same so close with the right indulging manipulations. "The last job Piers, what was the last job? Oh fuck," They were at it again, Piers in charge with his little power bottom ways of working Chris up to the point where he felt like he could cum in his hand, the other hand coming up and fondling that hard nub of flesh on his chest, his lips and tongue caressing that scratchy jawline when Chris tipped his head to the side to give him access, feeling that warm moist tongue caressing his flesh. "Shit, goddamn it Piers, the last job what was it suppose to be?"

Piers smirked, releasing his nipple and swinging his weight to mount the captain, straddling into Chris' lap, his hand still pumping Chris into a panting mess , licking his tongue up Chris' jaw to the lower tier of his mouth, dipping his tongue into that inviting mouth, Chris sucking on that perverse instrument of desire. He was so damn perverted compared to Chris. The older man had spent months being teased by this wild cat, and he had thought of countless ways they'd wind up seducing each other, but nothing ever touched on this. A mess of sweat and spit and sex. Piers fingers were pumping him with a tormenting pace, groaning into the wet cavern of Piers' mouth, their teeth clacking in a rough kiss while rolling his hips in Chris' lap, peeling their lips apart and trailing a map of shared saliva over Chris' cheek. "This one of course..." The husky purr in his ear was like a wave, Chris groaning deep in his throat when the young man nipped his exposed adam's apple, both hands fleeting, Chris suddenly hearing the click.

The fucking handcuffs. "Piers' don't."

"You really thought someone... as good as me, left the clip out of your gun, on accident?"

"Piers don't you fucking dare..."

"What's the matter captain... its not like I can get anyway locked up in this interrogation room. And we aren't near done yet." Piers chuckled, that light flirtatious laugh while he swung his leg off Chris, climbing to his feet and buttoning the pants around his own waist that had started to sag from Chris' rough housing. "I have to say though, with your access card and keys it will be a lot easier." Sweat was still clinging to him, evidence of his own pleasure clearly causing his heavy breathing to accent all those coy little phrases that spider webbed their way around him. Piers pulled up Chris' pants off the ground, pulling his access cards out of the back pocket, and the keys to his truck in one victorious swoop. Chris was livid, stunned into submission before he started jerking against the chair realizing it had been bolted down... as well as the table. "They wanted to make sure I wasn't going anywhere captain. It'll hold nicely for at least five minutes against your strength, right?" three steps and he was about to walk away, but something stayed the younger man, feasting his hazel hunger back at Chris, a sly narrowed eye and cock of his brow before coming back to the captain restrained in the chair meant for the much smaller man. Placing the cards and keys on the far side of the table, Piers crossed to him without another word, dropping down to his knees in front of Chris and freeing his cock with one easy little shift of his boxer briefs, using no pretenses at all. Chris was in heaven for almost two minutes, full lips parting in a perfect 'O' and engulfing his deserted meat and rekindling the fire in the captain's gut. Bobbing over his throbbing erection; the will to fight back completely flooding out of him, into that talented mouth, the moist, flicking tongue teasing his head as he came back up before consuming the entire thing, swallowing motions driving Chris crazing, hissing and grimacing his praise to Piers, ragged grunts following as he neared so close.

Piers let him too, plunging that massive piece inside his tight throat and slurping on him messily on purpose so the sounds would greet Chris' ears, drawing all his attentions to the tawny haired man. Not bothering to pull back; salty tang hit his tongue and forced Chris down his throat so he could cum down his his tight passage, filling his gut with that overbearing warmth, while Chris' breathes hitched and broke, groans tearing from the base of his lungs and out, crying out as those lips milked away every drop of thick semen. Slowly rising and tucking Chris back into his undergarments, leaning forward with saliva and cum at the corner of his lips. "Still taste like gunpowder if you ask me captain... Never have gotten over that taste." Pressing a wet kiss to the captain's gasping cheek, Piers winked, hearing as ragged 'wait!' before he was out the door.

'Call me captain when you're on your knees boy.'

'You taste like gunpowder captain... so good.'

Shit...

Well its never good... I mean it is, but Chris, *tsktsk* How could you let yourself get played sooooo easily.

Have to say, though I'm not a huge AU fan, this is probably my favorite story that I'm writing, just because I like cocky little Piers giving Chris a run for his money. We'll just have to find out what a bad boy Chris has been in the mean time. For those that did he math, Piers is ALMOST 21, as stated, whatever happened between them happened before that... cradle robing much?