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The infirmary doors swung shut behind nothing. Fluorescent lighting flickered in the cold room around Spy’s invisible body as he made his way to the operating theater tucked into the brightest corner of the room. Harsh white light made Spy see purple-orange spots on the floor when he looked away. Spy tested the door handle lightly with a gloved hand, but it resisted. Rolling his eyes, Spy pulled his personal Swiss army knife out of his pocket and flicked the rake pick out to slide into the keyhole. Soft clicks gave him away, giving the Medic inside enough time to swing the surgical light away from the door window and let Spy come in once he’d beaten the lock.

“Sit,” Medic ordered, gesturing to the operating table. Spy locked the door behind him and sat on the edge of the table. Medic was busy fiddling with his surgical tools and his Quick-Fix, which was attached to the wall by a mount made up of old Sentry parts.

“Do you want to smoke? You may,” Medic said.

Spy nodded and took his cigarettes out of his breast pocket and pulled one of the remaining ones out along with a Cricket lighter that took several flicks to ignite.

“Empty your pockets.”

Spy nodded again. He placed his multitool, pack, lighter, his disguise kit, and a gun on the table. Medic turned away from his things to grab them and place them on a counter against the wall.

“Will you maintain this impersonal charade the entire time?” Spy asked after a moment.

“Of course not,” Medic chuckled. “You interrupted me. You should have been a good boy and stayed outside until I was finished. Until then, sit and smoke and wait.”

Spy’s eyebrow twitched at being called “boy.” He exhaled and the smoke crawled up the mostly-sterile walls and bounced against the ceiling. When the silence stretched longer between them as Medic arranged his tools and sterilized them all one by one, Spy loosened his tie.

“Are you nervous?” Medic asked.


“Not even a little bit?” Medic grinned.



Medic finally slid the tray of tools over toward the table. He gave Spy a little push to get him to lie down on his back and straddled his hips. Medic adjusted the surgical light so that it wasn’t directly in Spy’s face and asked again if he was nervous.

“No.” Spy tapped ash onto the floor.

“Do you want it?”


“Beg for it.”

Spy hadn’t expected that. It was the dead of night during a ceasefire; Spy wouldn’t be here if he didn’t want it. Medic pulled on his gloves with a snap and gave Spy a flick on his nose.

“Did you not hear me? You wear a silly mask that covers your ears, after all.”

Spy snorted and dropped his cigarette on the ground before blowing smoke in Medic’s face. Medic wrinkled his nose and grabbed Spy by his hair to drag his face closer.

“Are you upset with me for not babying you as soon as you came in through the door?”

“No, but you haven’t exactly put me in the mood.”

Medic laughed with delight and let go, letting Spy’s head hit the table with a thump.

“Is me polishing my tools not enough foreplay for you, Spy?”

But before Spy could agree that, no, it wasn’t, Medic picked up a scalpel. The agreement died in Spy’s throat. Medic leaned down over Spy and kissed him. Medic’s tongue slid into Spy’s mouth and Spy hungrily returned it, cupping Medic’s face in his hands. Spy’s soft moan turned into a pained gasp when Medic slid the scalpel along the underside of Spy’s jaw, cutting through the balaclava. Blood started to seep into the dark fabric, blossoming and blooming along with sharp pain.

“New cologne?” Medic asked. “Just for me?” He turned Spy’s head to the side and put the scalpel down in favor of a small pair of scissors. Medic glanced back at Spy, then at the scissors, and then put them down again.

“I don’t need scissors to get this off, and sexy as it might be, the fibers will dull perfectly good scissors,” Medic explained, using his gloved hands to pull hard at the slice in the mask and rip a bigger hole into it.

“I can just take it off,” Spy offered, but Medic smacked his hands away.

“This is more fun.” With a bit more effort, Medic ripped the mask apart and exposed Spy’s face. Spy met Medic’s gaze steadily and couldn’t avoid matching Medic’s grin.

“You’ve got such an interesting face. It’s a shame you have to hide it,” Medic said. He sighed and then picked up a different scalpel. He pinched Spy’s nose between his index finger and thumb and pressed his palm over Spy’s mouth. Tension and old air stalled inside Spy’s chest while Medic grazed the scalpel along the various facial scars and a port-wine stain by his hairline. Medic’s hot breath against his skin only taunted him.

“You missed a spot shaving,” Medic said, pressing the point of his scalpel to a place on Spy’s jaw. “Right… here…” Spy shut his eyes and arched up against Medic while the scalpel dug deeply into his skin. If Spy didn’t know any better, he would have guessed that Medic could have scraped bone. Under his pants, Spy’s cock started to harden.

“Are you going to turn the medi-gun on?” Spy asked, eyes still shut, when Medic let go of his face. Blood slid down his neck and started to pool on the collar of his shirt as Spy breathed heavily, relishing the chill of oxygen.

“You said you wanted to be roughed up a little before we turned it on. Do you want it on now?”

“Not yet… just… checking.”

Medic rolled his eyes and gave Spy’s face a loving tap.

“I haven’t forgotten, liebling.” Medic got off of Spy and began to fiddle with the table straps instead. Medic fixed Spy's legs and one arm so that they were strapped together on the table. Medic left one arm free, but Medic made sure not to give Spy too much wiggle-room. Once Spy couldn’t fight back, Medic unzipped Spy's pants and pulled them down to his mid thighs, not able to get them any lower through the straps. Medic followed the thick trail of hair to his belly button with a bloody finger, but didn't take Spy's shirt off just yet. Medic admired Spy as he adjusted the medi-gun on its wall mount.

Medic laughed.

“Don’t look so disappointed. I’m not turning it on yet. I just want to get it in reach so I won’t have to leave you again.” He cupped Spy’s cock through his underwear with a gloved hand. Standing back, Medic looked sweetly at Spy and then picked up his cigarette off the floor. It had started to burn while they were busy, but there was enough that Medic could take a drag and then kiss Spy, exhaling the smoke against Spy’s tongue. Spy drank the smoke greedily, sliding his tongue against Medic’s, until Medic pulled away again. From a cabinet on the wall, Medic pulled out a bottle of wine and went back to Spy. Uncorking it, Medic didn’t bother reading the label.

“Open,” Medic said. Spy obediently opened his mouth and Medic poured wine into it. Most of the wine spilled onto Spy’s face and neck instead, but Spy choked on what little he managed to swallow and began to cough.

“Not good?” Medic teased, watching Spy’s face turn red as he strained. Just as Spy began to catch his breath, Medic interrupted him by pouring a little wine into his mouth for him to actually drink. Medic took a swig from the bottle while Spy caught his breath.

“It’s like you’re doing everything but cut me open,” Spy said, panting. He still opened his mouth for another sip, which Medic gave to him.

Medic chuckled darkly.

“We will get to that part, don’t worry. I like this part, too.” Medic took another sip and surveyed Spy’s body again. “But, if we must skip ahead, where should I cut you?”

“Are you looking for suggestions?”

“Do you have any?”

Spy flexed his hands to try and regain more circulation in them.

“If you cut my neck muscle… the one you were just toying with—”

“The sternocleidomastoid?”

“Yes… Could I turn my head?”

“Not very well. Those muscles are integral to most head movements, including ones commonly associated with affirmation and negation. And you wouldn’t need those, right?”

Spy smiled.

“Okay,” Medic laughed. He stood up, grabbed a scalpel, and sliced through Spy’s neck.

Spy jerked away, startled, and made the cut jagged and much less clean than Medic could have made it. Spy moaned thickly as pain and blood started to leak out onto the table and drip onto the floor. It fucking hurt and making noise made Spy’s throat vibrate and the pain only worsened. His vision started to cloud. Medic used a bloody glove to cup at Spy’s cock again. It throbbed as Medic squeezed it. The second cut was much more tender and agonizingly slow. Spy screwed his eyes shut and his breath caught as Medic leaned in and slid his tongue into the laceration and licked Spy’s muscles fibers. The temperature in the room dropped and Medic watched as Spy started to shake and grow pale.

“Aw, all of your blood’s getting on the floor.” Medic’s face was red and wet and he smeared more blood from Spy’s neck down his chest. Clotted blood caught in Spy’s body hair and hugged every bump and scar. Grabbing even more, Medic managed to leave a glowing trail of red all the way down to Spy’s underwear, which Medic was finally going to remove. Using an already blunted scalpel, Medic cut through the thin lacy material easily to expose Spy's cock to the chill air. Spy’s cock had hardened, but it was starting to go soft again, but not for lack of trying. The blood just had better places to be.

But Spy was starting to lose himself a bit, and Medic had to turn on the medi-gun. The soft red light made the blood on the ground seem to swirl. The blood on Medic’s face shone, but Spy couldn’t see with his eyes still shut. The pain started to lessen and the dread of slow, agonizing death started to leave. Spy began to breathe more evenly.

“How’s that?” Medic cooed. Spy tried to nod, but trying made him gasp with pain, making Medic chuckle. He leaned over and kissed Spy’s forehead and then down the side of his face. Medic stuck his tongue in the cut again, but this time Spy could moan appreciatively and try to reach for Medic’s hair to pull him closer. When he felt Spy’s roving hand, Medic pressed it to the back of his head and acquiesced. Spy’s blood was thick and stained with tannic red wine. When Spy finally let go, Medic’s face was stained red and his glasses were smeared. Medic sat back and began to wipe them off while Spy dizzily stared at the ceiling.

“Let’s actually cut you open, shall we?”

Spy couldn’t nod and his “yes” came out slurred.

Medic got a new scalpel and opened Spy’s shirt entirely. He slid it deeply and ripped through the skin and tissue over Spy’s sternum. Blood pulsed out thickly, staining everything, and Medic kept going until the cut was nearly a foot long. Putting the scalpel down, Medic picked up his bonesaw from the table and began to saw through Spy’s ribs one by one right next to the sternum. Spy’s noises made Medic smile. The sawing took longer than Spy would have guessed and he greedily drank in the medi-gun’s beams, but the pain was shocking and all encompassing. His chest felt like he was on fire. Spy knew that he was so close to death, but Medic stroked his hair, getting more blood on Spy’s head and face. Dutifully and slowly, the bonesaw cut through several of Spy’s ribs. Medic started to cut a large window into Spy’s chest as he leaned down and kissed Spy’s nipple. His gloved hands reached around to Spy’s side and, with too much force, started to crack Spy’s ribs. The crunching was followed by the sickening squelch of Spy’s muscles ripping and shifting.

Soon, Medic had exposed the left part of Spy’s entire thoracic cavity. Spy’s lungs, tinged dark purple from decades of smoking, quivered as his heart pulsed. Spy couldn’t move his neck very well, so Medic grabbed Spy by the hair and pulled his head down so that he could see the mess up close.

“When your guts are splattered and smeared across the dust when we’re fighting, anyone can see your body limply pooling blood wherever gravity takes it, but only I get to see everything while it still works. I know your body like no one else on this Earth ever will. I am your God and I keep you alive.”

Spy gurgled. His throat was raw. Medic kissed Spy’s forehead and let him go to go play now that he’d reminded Spy of what was happening. Spy’s head hit the table harder than last time. Carefully surveying all of Spy’s gorgeous organs, Medic cupped Spy’s lung and Spy gasped and started to sputter. Hot breath leaked into the air and then Medic stroked his finger along Spy’s heart. Spy had imagined what a heart attack could feel like, but the immense pressure that his heart struggled to beat against felt worse than he could imagine. It shocked him. His nerves were starting to fail him.

With a trembling and weak hand, Spy twitched it closer to Medic’s thigh. Medic was so thoroughly distracted by the globules of fat that clung to the inside of Spy’s skin that he jumped.

“Oh, how attentive you still are.”

Medic was straining against his pants. Spy had, out of necessity, gone soft, but Medic’s cock was red and thick and hot and ready to burst. Lowering his pants, Medic brushed Spy’s cool fingers against himself and shut his eyes. Hot pleasure ran up his spine. Medic leaned closer to the table and smeared the tip of his cock against Spy’s hip bone. His pre-cum mixed with thick clots that reluctantly dripped down onto the table and onto the floor beneath them.

Spy was starting to lose himself. His arm went limp and Medic, reluctantly, had to slowly turn up the dial on the medi-gun. Medic watched with bittersweet interest as some of Spy’s blood started to seep as if from nowhere back into his veins so that they thickened. The rough edges of bone started to round themselves out. They extended to try and sew themselves together before Medic slid the medi-beam down to where it was and Spy hovered still in a twilight state.

“I am your God,” Medic repeated. Apparently, some of Spy’s neck muscles had healed and Spy could nod without feeling like his head would come off. It still was limp and more like a twitch than a nod, but Medic understood him.

Now that Spy was more present, Medic bent over Spy and pressed a warm, tender kiss to Spy’s heart, which thundered against his mouth. Slick liquid blossomed on Medic’s face and the exterior part of Spy’s heart was smeared with his own blood. Inside outside inside again.

Medic picked up a different scalpel and made a long cut starting at the right iliac region and curving like a wide smile over to the left. With only a little effort, Medic cut through enough tissue, fat, and muscle that Spy’s guts started to swell and bubble out from the bottom. With more work, Medic cut through enough of Spy’s gut that he could get to the mesentery and start to carefully cut through that until Spy’s small intestine started to unravel and pull away from from the abdominal wall. The realization that he’d gone quiet made Medic burst into a happy laugh and told narrated to Spy what he had done and then showed Spy a loop of his intestines to gawk at.

“You didn’t eat recently, did you?” Medic asked, massaging through Spy’s intestines while Spy felt like Jell-o. “Oh, right,” Medic laughed again when Spy gurgled and his head twitched left. Spy screwed his eyes shut. “It doesn’t feel like you did… Still, can’t be helped now, whatever you did.”

Medic took off his gloves to pull off his pants as if they weren’t already soaked with blood. Getting a new pair, Medic snapped them on before hopping up onto the operating table. It jostled and Spy opened his eyes again to make a noise. Medic’s hard cock was hot and heavy on him, but Spy could barely feel it. Spy’s guts hung limply out of his body and Medic’s cock twitched as Medic sat up, balancing himself carefully, and wrapped a loop around his cock. The lewd sight of Spy’s grayish-brown intestines sliding over him made Medic a very happy man. Medic started to slide himself in and out of it and, when his cock throbbed, Medic slid his cock into the hole in Spy’s abdomen and started to fuck it in earnest. The room was filled with the sick-wet sounds of Spy’s organs sliming around and his heart beating despite it all in Spy’s chest. Spy tried to make noises of appreciation, but Medic stuffed his fingers down Spy’s throat for him to gag painfully on. There was only squelching and friction.

After only about thirty seconds, Medic pulled his dick out of Spy. It was a mess of fluids, including his own precum, but Medic roughly pulled his fingers out of Spy’s mouth to slide up Spy’s body, eliciting fierce groaning gurgles, and then managed to cum, barely missing Spy’s heart. Semen stained Spy’s lungs and as Medic kept stroking himself, Medic was able to rub some of it onto Spy’s heart directly. Red-faced, Medic sighed and looked at Spy, who was smiling below him.

Medic got up off of him and then turned the medi-beam up. The thick red air shimmered and Spy started to be able to breathe again. Medic closed his rib-cage, but before Spy was all the way sewn up, Medic stopped the beam. He experimentally turned Spy’s head, and Spy’s pain was mostly relegated to soreness, so he turned his head. Medic put his wet, soft cock into Spy’s mouth. Spy sucked eagerly, bobbing his head over it. Medic pulled Spy off by the hair.

When Medic looked down at Spy, Spy’s clothes were a mess of blood and yellow globules of fat stuck around the edges of his wounds. His skin was puckered in atrophic scars from the medi-gun not fully healing him. His hair was crunchy and sticky with dried blood.

“You look beautiful, liebling,” Medic said. Spy chuckled and reached for the medi-gun, but Medic batted his hand away. “May I take a picture?”

Spy thought about it while he breathed heavily, fingers twitching with regained feeling.

“No. I can’t risk it.”

Medic nodded and turned the medi-beam up again to full power, letting Spy vigorously heal back to his usual self, clothes notwithstanding.

“It has to be special,” Spy clarified. “My God can’t have a picture taped to the bottom of a drawer that just anyone could find with enough dedication.”

Medic laughed and pulled his gloves off, disposing of them neatly.

“You make a fair point.”

“Hand me—” Medic handed over Spy’s cigarettes and lighter. Medic sat at his desk and asked for Spy to hand him the lighter after pulling a cigar out of a case. Instead, Spy put his clothes back on and then sat on the desk, bending and ripping a few of Medic’s papers. Medic rolled himself in between Spy’s legs and reached around his waist for his own lighter, cigar in his mouth. Spy reached into his pocket and pulled a knife on Medic, digging the blade into Medic’s chin. Medic laughed and leaned forward to dig the knife deeper into his flesh to let his fingers brush against his lighter and fully grab hold of it.

“Are you staying here tonight?”


Their smoke slowly filled the infirmary.