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“I dunno how I feel about it,” Sniper said hesitantly. “It... won’t that hurt?”


“Ideally, yeah,” Scout replied, raising an eyebrow at him from his place cuddled against Sniper’s chest.


Maybe just after boning then cleaning up and right before bed wasn’t a great time to have this conversation. The thing was, Sniper was always just so... careful with him. Like he was scared of breaking Scout if he just went a little harder than normal. Scout always told him it was okay, he could take more, because clearly Sniper would enjoy giving it even just a little bit harder, but he never did, always a layer of conscious care holding him back.


But fuck, what Scout would give to have it hard enough to really ache.


Sniper had questions, obviously, and was starting to look a little confused at how much Scout was saying was okay. As if waiting for the catch. Waiting for Scout to say “gotcha!” and laugh. Like he couldn’t believe Scout wanted to be tied up and at Sniper’s mercy, and spanked until he nearly cried, and made to beg to be fucked properly, then absolutely used until he couldn’t remember his own damn name.


He... might have thought about it a little bit already. He would not confirm or deny what his jack-off material was.


“Look, just...” Scout said, taking note of the fact that Sniper looked hesitant and wary but not really and truly uncomfortable. “I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t know that I wanted it. And if I stop liking it for some reason, that’s why we have a safe word. And if you don’t feel okay, you can stop whenever you feel like.”


Sniper was quiet for a while, and tilted his head back to consider the ceiling. A few minutes passed, and Scout started to wonder if maybe Sniper had dozed off. Just as he was about to give in to the disappointment and try and fall asleep himself, he heard Sniper’s response.


“Okay,” he said softly. “Just... tell me when.”


Scout smiled and gave the barest nod.





It was a few days later. They’d been busy, and tired, and ended up just turning in and cuddling and falling asleep that way instead of tiring themselves out further before bed. But they’d won the battle earlier in the day than usual, which left them with more free time after they got their stuff done.


After battle, Scout had gone over to Sniper, eyes bright and hopeful, his voice low. Sniper had known what was coming even before the boy said anything.


“Do you think that tonight we could...?” Scout had trailed, and despite the vague unease that Sniper felt in his stomach at the implication, he’d nodded. Somehow, Scout had lit up even further. “Aw, fuck yeah! You’re the best! I’ll drop by later—I got some chores and stuff. That okay?”


Sniper just nodded again, and grinned when Scout hopped up onto his tip-toes to give him a quick peck on the cheek before he ran off again.


“Bloody kid,” he sighed, hand over the place Scout had kissed him, and continued putting his gear away.





By the time Scout showed up and knocked on his door, the sun was nearly set, and the hard edge of nervousness was starting to set in. Admittedly, it did help that Sniper could tell from the moment that Scout opened the door that he was buzzing with excitement just below the surface, could feel it in the quick kiss of greeting before Scout hopped past him into the camper. They generally preferred to have their regular little rendezvous in the camper van away from everyone else, if only because Scout tended to get a little vocal and they didn’t need to get interrupted with noise complaints.


Scout pulled a few things from his bag, and Sniper tried not to stare too hard at the length of rope that he set down. Then Scout turned to him, so very open in how hopeful he looked, and Sniper felt the unease fading a little bit.


Admittedly... it wasn’t that Sniper was terribly uncomfortable with the concepts Scout had laid out with him. He had some knowledge on kinks, had even jacked off to some of the imagery Scout had presented him with, far prior to that particular conversation. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the idea of Scout tied up and subjected to whatever whim he could think of. It was that he was afraid that he might just like it a little too much.


“You remember the safeword?” Sniper asked lowly. Scout nodded once, confident. It settled Sniper enough for him to start in. “Good. Shirt off, arms behind your back.”


Scout didn’t hesitate to comply, but did draw it out, moving uncharacteristically slowly, expression teasing.


Sniper didn’t rise to the bait, just waiting for him to move as instructed. He stood just behind Scout, ran his hands up from the center of his back to his shoulders, then back down again, a soothing motion. Scout relaxed, leaning into him, only to cry out as Sniper grabbed his wrist and forced his arm to bend up behind his back, an uncomfortable and painful stretch.


Before he knew it, Scout was bent forward over the table, pinned in place by the merciless hold Sniper had on his wrist, forcing it further up when Scout writhed against him. “Think you’re so clever,” Sniper growled lowly into his ear, and Scout barely suppressed a whimper. “Ought to be taught your place, don’t you think? Taught some manners. Taught to listen. Taught to shut the bloody hell up for once in your damn life.”


Scout’s breath was quick, and already sweat was collecting on his back. Sniper didn’t wait for a reply, instead just gripping his wrist and pulling him roughly towards the small couch. He sat himself down, and pulled Scout quickly enough to send him off-balance, easily manipulating him into the position he wanted, bent over his knee.


Scout moved to grip at the fabric of the couch the moment his arm was freed, a shiver going through him.


Sniper took his own turn to be teasing now, hand reaching under Scout’s hips to slide along the line of his waistband to undo the button of his pants. He played with it for a few moments until Scout was wriggling impatiently, then he was popping it and shucking his pants and underwear down his thighs quickly and efficiently.


One hand moved to slide across Scout’s back up towards his shoulders, and the other down to massage at his now-bared ass, and he grinned as he took note of Scout already getting hard against his thigh. Scout really did have a nice ass. He had nice legs as well, obviously, that was par for the course if he was going to be running so much, but his ass. It was next level kinds of nice, and Sniper indulged himself in just feeling it and squeezing it for a bit.


“Real nice,” he commented, and Scout had gone lax again, limp and submissive over his lap. Exactly how Sniper wanted him.


The first slap rang loud through the nearly-silent camper, and louder was Scout’s cry, a gorgeous mix of pain and ecstasy. Sniper admired the red that bloomed across the bare skin, watching with fascination for a few moments as it developed. Another followed moments later, and Scout shifted in his lap as if to get closer. Then Sniper’s other hand, which had been resting on the back of his neck, pushed down to trap him in place and prevent further movement, grip going tight in warning. Scout froze.


“Be a good boy now and stay still,” Sniper murmured, and Scout’s breath hitched, and he didn’t move again. Just jumped slightly at the next slap.


A few more swats and he stopped jumping. A few more after that and Scout’s muscles had relaxed again, letting him lie limp even as he cried out. It didn’t take long for him to be fully submissive, moaning with need at every blow, even as Sniper started to hit harder, blows striking deeper. The only change seemed to be that he groaned louder, more pleadingly, even as the skin of his ass started getting blotchy and red from the abuse.


Sniper paused for a bit, messaging the overheating and surely sore to hell skin for a few moments to give Scout a short break. “Hmm. Real nice like this,” he commented. “Really quite a sweet thing once you’re put in your place.”


Scout whined, rolled his hips.


“Now, what’s this...?” Sniper asked, faking surprise as his hand dipped between Scout’s thighs and he brushed fingers against Scout’s cock, hard and leaking and pressing against his thigh. “Hmm. Looks like you enjoyed that punishment a bit too much. I suppose I’ll need to punish you some other way to teach you your lesson, aye?”


Scout gulped hard, his breathing shaky. “Y-yes sir,” he managed.


Sniper’s cock absolutely twitched from where it was still trapped in his pants.


He reached behind the cushion of the couch, where earlier he’d stashed the bottle of lube. At the same time, he pushed at Scout’s shoulder. “On your feet,” he said, voice harsh. “Clothes off, bend over that table.”


Scout stood (albeit with wobbly legs) and moved as instructed. Sniper undid the button of his jeans just to loosen some pressure, taking the rope from the tabletop and going to work.


In no time, Scout’s arms were well tied up, straining almost painfully at the shoulders in the tight lock Sniper had subjected them to. His torso was tied to the surface of the table as well, leaving Scout able to arch his back slightly, but do little else. From shoulders to waist, he was well and truly trapped. His legs were left alone outside of being pulled from within the confines of his pants, at least for now, and only because Sniper was rather enjoying watching the way he shifted them in unease.


But at one point, while going about lashing Scout to the surface of the thin table, Sniper had noticed something. And now, with Scout at his mercy, he investigated further.


A kiss was laid on the back of Scout’s neck, earning a shiver, and Sniper retreated only far enough to place his lips next to Scout’s ear when he spoke next.


“Now hold on, did you shower before you came over here?” Sniper said, the smell of Scout’s shampoo strong against his nose.


After a second, Scout tentatively nodded as much as he was able.


“How well did you shower?” Sniper asked next, hands trailing down thin hips to cup firmly at Scout’s abused bottom, earning a jolt and hissing exhale. “Did you clean yourself up for me?”


Face turned towards the tabletop, Scout probably thought Sniper wouldn’t notice his flush. Unfortunately, the reddening tips of his ears gave him away. “Y... yes, sir,” he murmured, his embarrassment and shame clear. If he intended to speak next, he was cut off by Sniper squeezing once, abruptly, causing him to cry out in pain that quickly morphed into pleasure.


“There’s a good boy,” Sniper murmured, kissing low on his spine. “...Circulation okay? Fingers intact?”


“Yeah,” Scout breathed, trying to move his hips slightly. “Just—c’mon.”


“Mmm... you want me to fuck you?” Sniper asked lowly, and Scout’s breath hitched. “Oh, not without you begging for it.”


For whatever reason, defiance rose up from Scout just then, the smaller looking over his shoulder with a grin. “Fuck you. I ain’t begging for shit,” he replied, voice clipped, demonstrating some self-control.


“Is that so?” Sniper drawled. “Well that just won’t do. I suppose I’ll have to make you.”


“Oh no, anything but that,” Scout said sarcastically, grin sharp. “Please don’t spank me any more, how can I take it?”


“Cheeky bugger,” Sniper said, grinning himself. “Who said that’s how I’ll make you beg?”


He had just enough time to see Scout’s expression falter before he was kneeling down, pressing a bit harder than needed as he spread Scout’s cheeks, then he was diving in.


The yelp that he received was almost as delicious as the feeling of Scout’s muscles twitching against his tongue. He’d told the truth, and clearly been thorough when he’d showered—hell, the way Scout writhed but opened up so easily under his mouth suggested that he might’ve spread himself earlier to ease the way. All the better.


His tongue flicked, and teased, and thrusted, never letting his captive get too used to a particular rhythm before he changed it up again, and all the while his hands kneaded at his bruised flesh, evoking some absolutely delicious groans and mewls. He pulled back for only a moment to catch his breath, and felt the burn in his gut intensify at the sight of Scout’s legs shaking, toes curling to find purchase against the carpet, his cock twitching and red and begging to be licked, or stroked, or touched, some fucking thing. He watched with rapture as a drop of precome leaked from the head to drip, painfully slowly, to the ground.


He had half a mind to untie Scout and make him lick it up. Maybe after he finished dining.


Sniper returned to his previous place fucking Scout on his tongue, mindful to back off every time Scout’s keens got even a bit too loud, signaling that he might be getting close. No, he would draw this out. His knees were only barely protected from rugburn by the fabric of his jeans, and his cock ached for release, and the inside of the camper was getting hot enough that his shirt was sticking uncomfortably with sweat, but all of those feelings were overridden by the singular desire to take Scout apart so completely that he couldn’t remember his own damn name.


He applied just a little bit of teeth, and the groan that tore itself from Scout’s torso suggested that Sniper was really starting to get there.


He moved to stand again, trailing hands up the back of Scout’s thighs, and squeezed harshly enough to make Scout jerk within his bonds. He moved to nip and lick and bite and suck his way up Scout’s shoulder blades, leaving pink marks in the exposed spaces between where the ropes sat, marks that he knew would soon fade into red, or even purple bruises.


By the time he reached Scout’s ear, the runner was shaking like the last leaf to fall off the tree, and every panting exhale was half a whine.


“Beg,” was his simple command, spoken low and drawling, the voice of someone who knew he’d already won and was collecting his prize.


Scout broke down, practically sobbing out pleads, intermingled with curses and moans as Sniper kneaded at his ass in some sublime mix of punishment and reward. He writhed in his bonds, moving as much as he was able, every motion a cry for Sniper to please, please, please fuck him already.


How Sniper didn’t finish in his pants then and there at such a spectacle would remain one of the world’s greatest mysteries.


At it was, he pushed his pants down his hips to free himself, carelessly pouring lube over his fingers and setting to work without bothering to warm the greasy fluid up. Scout jolted at the cold, but didn’t protest, instead just melting against the table further and breathing out more pleads as Sniper stretched him, ever so slightly faster than he’d ever dared to, even in the most frantic of their previous on-the-clock battlefield quickies.


God, Scout was gorgeous. As he rushed through the stretching, Sniper took a few seconds to bask in how fortunate he was.


But his patience was at its end, and Sniper slicked himself up, gasping to himself at the feeling of hardly-warmed lube on his weeping cock. Oh, well. Hopefully that would be enough to help him last just a bit longer. He knew that the second he pushed in, his self-control would be gone.


“Please, please, please,” was Scout’s quiet chanted mantra, angling his hips just so, canting them in a desperate attempt to make Sniper hurry.


It worked, as Sniper was moving to thrust in only a second or so later.


He set a brutal, punishing pace, and would’ve been concerned by the loud cries escaping Scout’s mouth if not for the fact that he was desperately trying to rock his hips for more. Sniper gripped low on his waist, fingers intentionally digging in hard enough to hurt, and fucked into Scout with abandon.


His muscles burned with it, his lungs working in great bellows, the temperature rising within the confined space as he absolutely destroyed the younger man. He couldn’t last terribly long, but from the pitch of Scout’s keening and the fact that he’d gotten close at least two times already, he wouldn’t either.


But Sniper wasn’t done with him just yet, and so wrapped around an arm to grip at Scout’s cock, tight around the base, uncomfortably so. “No, not yet,” he snarled, and Scout outright sobbed.


He felt his rhythm falling apart, and he moved to bite down at the base of Scout’s throat as he came, nearly fierce enough to draw blood. It was quite possibly the best orgasm of his life, or among the best, at the very least.


And as stars cleared from his vision, he realized Scout was still sobbing with need, hips jerking weakly where they were pinned between Sniper’s cock and hand. Sniper moved his head to the other side of Scout’s neck, breath hot, lungs still furiously working as he pressed his chest flush with Scout’s back.


“Such a good boy,” he purred, well sated. “You did such a good job. Go on, you’ve earned it—come for me.”


Before he was even through the sentence, Scout’s control shattered, as spectacularly as a crystal chandelier dropping from a vaulted ceiling, and nearly as violently. He screamed, he jerked, he twisted, he shook, he bucked, and Sniper bit down hard on the opposite side of his neck to try and hold him, jerking in firm, slick motions to hopefully prolong the world-shattering orgasm. 


Before Scout was properly through the aftershocks Sniper was already moving, untying his hands and pulling out and getting to work freeing him.


It took nearly as long to untie him as it did to tie him up in the first place, but finally Sniper was done, and he gingerly worked his hands up Scout’s back with a quickly-procured cold cloth, smoothing over and soothing the places where the ropes had cut in a bit too hard due to Scout’s wild struggling. His arms were worse, but none of his fingers were turning purple, so that seemed to be a good sign.


Sniper gingerly rolled him over to be face-up so he could finish cleaning him up, and couldn’t help but grin at the perfectly dazed expression that Scout was wearing. He looked to be on the edge of passing out, but there was something so undeniably satisfied in the quirk of his lips.


Sniper’s gaze fell to where even then, Scout’s member lightly twitched where it lay against his stomach, Sniper’s hand having caught only a fraction of the mess. He got a sudden idea, and grinned, and half-knelt, moving to lick at the still-warm cum that had splattered Scout’s stomach.


Usually, Scout was much too ticklish for such a thing, and would have been on the other side of the camper in an instant with a yelp of alarm. But now he could only whine weakly, legs feebly and unsuccessfully trying to bat him away. It was to no avail—Sniper simply took him by the waist and continued on with his work, even licking at the meager spillover on the head of Scout’s cock despite the groan of dismay it illicited, rising into a keen as he teased his tongue into the slit, determined to get every last drop.


Finally Sniper relented, and Scout fell back limp against the tabletop again, breathing still quick in his chest. Then Sniper was up and peppering Scout’s tear-salted cheeks with kisses, murmuring praise and affection, enough to make Scout grin, blinking his eyes open.


“Was that what you wanted?” Sniper finally ventured to ask, hope clear in his voice.


Scout laughed breathlessly, voice hoarse, eyes falling closed for a second. “It was better. Like, a million times better. I’m definitely gonna need to see Medic before battle tomorrow.”


“Actually, tomorrow’s Saturday,” Sniper reminded gently.


Scout’s face slowly flushed, from the tips of his ears well down his chest, eyes wide. “...So I’ll have all the bruises an’ shit all weekend?” he asked, voice weak.


“Mmm-hmm,” Sniper said with a little nod.


A shiver went through the runner at that, his arms regaining just enough strength to smooth shaky hands over his lower waist, where even then, red fingerprint-shaped marks were starting to appear. “I’m gonna want another round when I see that after I get up in the morning,” Scout warned.


“Assuming you can get up,” Sniper smirked, and Scout nodded, looking dazed, wearing that far-away grin again. “Think you can get up to the mattress? I’m... I’ll be honest, I’m exhausted.”


“Oh, YOU’RE exhausted?” Scout teased, and Sniper had to avert his gaze, flushing. “Yeah, I can handle it. But uh, be ready to catch me maybe? Just in case of, uh, a sudden earthquake?”


"Sure," Sniper huffed, eyes crinkling up as he held back laughter, watching with amusement as Scout slowly (slowly) figured out how to stand up.





A few minutes later, when Sniper was finished cleaning up and opening a well-steamed window and the two were tangled together in the sheets, Scout looked over at Sniper. Most of the daze had faded from his expression, and there was an overwhelming amount of affection there now.


“Really, I... thank you, for all of this,” Scout murmured, a moment of vulnerability. “You’re the best.”


“It was no problem. I liked it too, after all,” Sniper reminded.


“Yeah, but still. It was a lot to ask, an’... that was fuckin’ excellent,” Scout said. He pressed a gentle kiss to the underside of Sniper’s jaw, and the murmured “I love you” was nearly lost to his stubble and skin. Nearly.


“Thank you for trusting me enough to ask,” Sniper said. “An’, hell, maybe next time will be even better, aye?”


“Heh. Maybe next time, you’ll trust me enough that you'll be the one tied down and begging on the table,” Scout teased, teeth scraping at the tendon of Sniper’s neck as he grinned.


Sniper’s shiver wasn’t from the night cold steadily seeping through the window.