Chapter Text
Sniper let out a slow, silent exhale through his nose. It was nightfall, around 10pm. He had to leave for a contract in about an hour, and Medic had been holding out on him. He’d been promised a goodbye kiss.
And he wasn’t leaving until he got it.
He stalked through the terrain around the outskirts of the base slowly; he loved the feeling of his muscles stretching with each languid movement he made, priding himself on the control he had over every stride, crouch and roll of his shoulders. Oh, Ludwig. How he loved to tease.
He’d had poor, naïve Michael pinned against the side of his van, running the tip of his nose just under the curve of his jaw. Large, warm hands roamed greedily over the marksman’s red polo and rubbed his flanks, feeling his beloved arch into his touch as the ball of his hands applied gentle pressure to the sides of his breasts with each languid stroke. Sniper had felt lightheaded as he let his head loll back against the side of his van with a dull thud.
“I’m going to miss you,” Ludwig whispered, hot breath against his neck as the tip of his nose nestled just behind his ear. The bushman’s eyes fluttered as he let out a shaky exhale, rolling his hips against Medic’s in an attempt to chase the friction he was already starting to desperately need. The doctor chuckled in his ear, playful and mocking. “Promise you’ll think of me when you’re gone?” He’d asked, reaching a hand down and grasping at Michael’s groin, spacing his index and middle fingers just far enough apart to rub along either sides of the marksman’s clit in his jeans.
Torturous friction! Expert touch! Cruel, evil lover!
Sniper let out a low snarl, the sound rolling deep in his chest as he rocked his hips against Medic’s hand slowly, in the way he’d found out made his toes curl in his shoes. The doctor giggled and bit his own lip as he watched. “Hoo! That’s a yes ,” he teased, raising a knee and gently pressing it against the bushman’s groin. It would be a fine seat for his handsome krokodil…
… assuming he could still stand on those shaky legs of his.
The languid sways of his hips (that Medic noticed he’d gotten quite good at during their time together… hoo!) quickly turned into more desperate ruts as his legs began to shake. He was going to cum just from some hot breath on his neck and some well-placed friction. Both mercenaries moaned and pressed their bodies together even further, as close as the position would allow. Sniper leaned in for a kiss, expecting to be met with the softness of his beloved’s lips, only to be rewarded with giddy laughter and the absence of his warmth against him. Medic pulled back, smiling smugly as his shoulders shook with excited energy and poorly smothered laughter, knowing he’d teased his dear Michel into a frenzy before taking off into the dark.
“One last hunt before you leave! Come and dance with me, hunter! Hoo hoo!”
And that was how he’d left him. Legs wobbling, underwear soaked, standing in the dark by his van. Unkissed!
Medic knew how much Sniper loved his kisses. He’d have to pay for this in spades.
So here he was, cock stiff, breathing hard, sweat running down his neck as he still felt the electric sensation of Ludwig’s mouth upon it. He stalked through the darkness, trying to remember his instinct and come to his senses. Deep breath in, deep breath out. He willed his heart rate to slow down, but it wasn’t without great difficulty. Each stride rubbed his thighs against his swollen clit in just the right way to shoot tremors down his calves, then up to his scalp. He shuddered.
He had forty minutes.
“Come out, pigeon.” He called out, voice surprisingly level despite the fact that his pulse was rattling in his ears. They loved to play like this together. Sniper enjoyed tracking his awful-at-hiding partner, but usually, their games like this went on for hours: precious time that sadly, Sniper didn’t have this time around.
His eye caught some movement as he heard the snapping of a twig a few meters away. He made no immediate move to acknowledge it, instead staying still and listening. Medic was moving, around the 7 o’clock position behind him.
“I mean it.” He didn’t. “You know I’ve gotta go.” Did he really have to? “And I’m not leavin’ without a goodbye peck.” That was for certain.
Sniper only got a cheeky giggle from a distance as a response. Closing his eyes and listening, he knew the doctor to be nearer to a 5 o’clock position now. He was trying to be sneaky, was he?
Medic bit his lip until it bled as he tried to smother the raucous laughter bubbling in his throat. Since it was night time, he could hide in trees! He managed to shimmy up one and sit on a branch, watching Sniper’s vague shape as it stood completely still before taking a few idle strides in a tight circle. He loved watching him. What he wouldn’t give to see him in the wild, hunting dangerous animals with only his bare hands and intuition… The idea sent heat straight to Ludwig’s groin. He curled his toes in his boots, doing his best not to sway in the tree, should the leaves rustle in a way that was unlike how they did in nature.
With all of his distracted staring, he wasn’t a keen observer. He refocused his attention on the marksman (as opposed to all of the fantasies currently running rampant in his mind) and gasped softly. He was gone. Turning his head around to look at the ground beneath him, he saw no trace of his beloved bushman. Where could he have possibly gotten off to?! They hadn’t been that far from the van, he’d noted, seeing the glowing light from its windows, left on as Medic had lured Sniper out for what he’d expected to be a chaste kiss goodbye.
His cock throbbed in his trousers as he rotated one of his ankles slowly, trying to dissipate the giddy, horny energy that crept through him. His heart rate slowed as the panic began to set in. What if Michel wasn’t hunting him anymore? For all he knew, he was sitting in his van, listening to the radio and waiting for the doctor to turn himself in! Or maybe he was somehow right behind him, appearing out of thin air just to get the perfect drop on him! Or perhaps-
Ludwig let out a yelp as he suddenly found the branch cracked, sliding it off of him as it snapped beneath the force of a blade being driven through it. He fell to the ground with a thud as he landed square on his plush rear, tucking his legs underneath him in case he had to stand up and run as he looked around. There was no sign of Sniper.
He looked back up at the branch and crawled up, yanking the large knife out and giving it a lookover. It was absolutely his beloved marksman’s. He bit his lip, running his thumb over the side of the blade and studying his reflection in the polished steel, feeling his breath hitch in his throat.
If he’d been an enemy, Sniper could have killed him with this.
One quick, efficient throw, and it would have been all over.
But instead, it was a tool used for play. Just for him.
He grasped the leather-wrapped handle and spun around on his heel, looking around for his beloved. Drumming his nails on the side of the blade, he pursed his lips as he thought of his next move. Did he run? Or stay put? His skin prickled with gooseflesh as he felt the rough fingertips of Sniper’s hand caress his wrist, gently prying the knife out of his hand. He gave it a spin at Ludwig’s side,smoothly enough so that the doctor could get a good look at how his long, bony fingers moved before retreating behind him, in his blind spot, where Medic couldn’t see.
“Thank you.” Sniper purred, grinning crookedly as he watched the skin at the back of Medic’s neck prickle with gooseflesh. “What’s the move, pretty plover?” He asked, the tip of his nose so close to the shell of his ear that it was making the doctor lightheaded. “Or are you all out of tricks?” He goaded, keeping his breathing remarkably level despite how riled up he was. It had been so tempting to shove Medic into the dirt and claim him for his own, a suitable victory prize for a fun, last-minute hunt. But he wouldn’t do that, not now. Part of the fun was the agonizing buildup, after all.
“Me? Out of ideas?” Medic breathed, licking his lips and swallowing thickly as he tasted his own blood from when he’d bit his lip earlier. He heard Sniper take a deep breath in through his nose before letting out a satisfied-sounding crocodile-purr. Schisse. He’d smelled the blood. He could tell the bushman was grinning, didn’t need to turn around to feel his posture, his looming presence over him despite only being a couple centimeters taller than him. His pants were becoming uncomfortably tight, the irritating constriction of the fabric only coaxing him into drawing the game out further. “Never,” he finished, whacking Sniper’s wrist and grabbing the knife, tossing it - with much less grace than Sniper had, mind you - into the ground well out of his beloved’s reach.
He spun around and they began to circle. One of Sniper’s hands remained outstretched; arm relaxed, palm open. It almost looked like a fighting style technique, but Medic knew it was more like how an animal handler approaches a particularly irate beast. It sent chills down his spine; if he was caught in the other mercenary’s iron grasp, it was over. He thought about the power of his grip and how gentle it could be, how it looked wrapped around his cock as his rough hand (though well lubricated) would stroke his shaft. He could have whimpered at the fond recollection.
Sniper gave him a toothy sneer as he hummed in amusement at the little stunt Medic had just pulled. They both knew Sniper let him disarm him. “When you said dance, I was thinkin’, y’know, slow. Maybe a little twirl,” the bushman purred, and Medic unabashedly stared at his chest as he drew in deep breaths, pushing his breasts forward and his belly in, stomach muscles that were concealed behind a generous layer of fat flexing with each decisive movement. It fascinated Medic; Sniper was quite the low-energy mercenary, but never moved without intention. It was as if each gesture of his body was done as a means of conserving energy. “Didn’t expect to be rutted against and thrown on my ass ,” he growled, his face flushed by delicious humiliation.
Ludwig giggled, his voice faltering as they circled closer and closer. Medic’s body was rigid as he nearly walked on the balls of his feet, fingers wiggling and fidgeting, whereas Sniper’s was more relaxed; bent at the knees and elbows, crouched a bit. It was clear who would win if the wrong move was made.
“Oh, you didn’t expect that?” Medic teased, breaking into snide laughter. “Naïve krokodil… don’t you know me but at all ?” He cooed, giving his beloved a toothy smile. They were both so hard it was beginning to hurt, their pulses pounding in their ears as tension rolled over their muscles and kneaded their nerves. With a swift movement, Medic leaped at Sniper in hopes of knocking him down.
Well, that was a grave miscalculation!
He’d slammed his body against the marksman’s, whose own form went rigid now, bracing for the impact of the burlier mercenary and snickering as Medic’s boots lost traction in the earth beneath them sliding between Sniper’s legs and almost landing square on his rear… again. Sniper was quick to grab his flanks, just below his underarms, lifting him up and pinning him to a tree. Medic tried to stand on his tiptoes, but his beloved had him suspended just high enough that he could make no such move. He was stuck dangling there, like a pinned plover, hanging dangerously in the iron grasp of his beloved krokodil.
“Don’t you know me ?” Sniper breathed. His lips were so close to Medic’s, the doctor couldn’t help but moan. Darkness was working in Sniper’s favor, and he felt like a giant figure of mass , keeping him pinned like he was. It was terrifying and erotic. A pleased giggle quickly melted into a whimper as he felt the tip of Michael’s nose against the underside of his jaw, running along his adam’s apple as he swallowed thickly. He felt the mercenary sneer with wicked delight.
“... I know that I’m suddenly in the mood for giving my sweet Michel a kiss!” Medic squeaked, biting his lip and giving the darkness his best sheepish expression. “How about it, ja? A krokodil kiss for your, mhmhm, plover-darling?” He reasoned, pursing his lips and closing his eyes. Sniper could see him. The marksman let out a low purr, his nose lightly running underneath his jaw, tilting it up as his hair dragged against the bark of the tree, making his scalp tingle. The purring sound Sniper made began to make his partner's chest heave; delightful sensation and harsh adrenaline took turns rattling his pulse and lighting firecrackers in his blood.
This beast would not harm him.
“A kiss ? And a dance , under the moonlight ? ‘Fore I go away on a long contract, on which I’ll no doubt miss you… dearly ,” he finished, and Medic could feel Sniper’s tongue rolling on the pronunciation of the L in dearly , his mouth was so close to his skin. The doctor swallowed thickly. “You’re too kind, sweetness.” He drawled, letting his teeth gnash gently against Ludwig’s skin as he spoke.
“I can be kinder,” Medic whispered against the corner of Sniper’s mouth, the tip of his tongue gliding over the crease of his lips; showing submission in the way he often did when they would play these games. He was trying feebly to arch his hips against Sniper’s, pushing their clothed privates together. Fortunately, the doctor’s was straining so hard in his pants that it still gave them both a bit of relief from the throbbing pressure they were experiencing. He felt Michael’s breathing stutter against his neck. He wanted that kindness. Oh, he did.
A glance at the position of the moon, gauging the time of night, the distance to his camper… He had time for that kindness.
“Y’got fifteen minutes.”