The Soldier didn’t remember when he had met the Other Soldier. He also didn’t remember when he had first started to work for Hydra, or how long it had been since then, or if he had another name other than the ones his handlers used—but it was the fact he didn’t remember meeting the Other Soldier that bothered him. He knew, somehow, that he hadn’t always known him. There had been a long time before when he had been alone. Now, though, he couldn’t stand it. Even fresh from a wipe, something that he didn’t know inside him refused to take orders or go out on a mission until he saw the Other Soldier. The two of them were connected, he knew it. He didn’t know how he knew, but he did.
The Other Soldier was different from him but the same. Their minds and their insides were the same, but the Other Soldier had blond hair and two flesh and blood arms. There were marks on his body, scars, that the Soldier didn’t have. He never went to the Chair easily like the Soldier did. He always fought, and had to be wrestled into the Chair. Sometimes they made the Soldier force him into the Chair, but he hated it. The Other Soldier would look at him with water in his eyes and a bad expression on his face, so sometimes he would let go, and then they would both be punished.
Many times the Soldiers would be sent out on different missions, and their reward for completing the mission successfully would be time spent with each other. Mission failure meant the Soldier didn’t get to see the Other Soldier before he went to the Chair and the cryo tube. The Soldier did his best to avoid mission failure. He wanted to see the Other Soldier, wanted to spend all of his time with him, and he thought the Other Soldier wanted the same thing.
So it was the best for them when they were sent out on missions together, when the handlers decided they needed the efforts of both Soldiers. As soon as one saw the second in the transport vehicle, he would go straight to him. They would sit together, surrounded by handlers, and the Other Soldier would tuck their hands down between them and put their fingers together. The handlers would always struggle if they tried to separate them after that. They followed each other into dark places, into deep cover disguises, onto the same rooftops. They were rarely out of each other’s line of sight.
The new mission was one of those. They were ordered to place explosive devices throughout a large building with few people in it. There were no timers to set, all the explosives wired to respond to one trigger device. The Soldier had been given the trigger and instructions on when to use it. He had been told to use his discretion. He still wasn’t quite sure what that meant, but the Other Soldier told him it meant he could choose when to trigger the explosives, within a certain time frame. Not using the trigger was not an option. They would be punished for it.
Discretion. His choice. That meant he could take a risk.
He ordered the Other Soldier to pull the fire alarm on his way out. He waited on a nearby rooftop and watched until the Other Soldier joined him. The few people left in the building evacuated at the sound of the alarm. Once the last identified person had left, the Soldier gave it an extra ten seconds and then pushed the button.
The building exploded in stages, smoke billowing into the sky and flames licking at the walls that were still standing. The Soldier deactivated the trigger and tucked it away, watching the building burn. The Other Soldier pressed close against his back, and he leaned back into him. There was a bulge nudging at his backside. He tilted back and the Other Soldier rubbed himself up against him. The Other Soldier hummed and his hands wrapped around the Soldier’s hips. His head tilted down and his lips rubbed against the Soldier’s ear.
“Please,” he said quietly.
“Alright, doll,” the Soldier said, not knowing where the words came from. He brought his hands to the front and began to open his pants. The Other Soldier’s hands came around to touch and rub at his own bulge. A sound came from deep in the Soldier’s chest, and he pushed forward into the other’s hands. The Other Soldier pressed closer to close the gap he had created between them.
“Mm, yeah,” the Other Soldier said. “You feel so good.” His teeth closed on the Soldier’s ear lightly. The Soldier pushed his pants down and the Other Soldier’s hands rubbed over his skin. One hand closed over his hip, holding him still while the other hand fumbled between them. Something wet and slippery was applied to his legs, and he somehow knew to press his thighs tightly together. He heard the Other Soldier fumbling to get his own pants open, and then he felt something warm and hard and slippery-smooth press between his legs. Zippers and buckles and skin pressed against his exposed skin from waist to knees. The Other Soldier was panting against his cheek, and the Soldier reached back with one hand to hook behind his neck and keep him there. He stared at the building while the Other Soldier started moving behind him, shifting between his legs. The flames were captivating, matching the warmth building deep inside of him. It felt good. His insides felt good and his outsides felt good and the inside of his head was clear and simple and it wanted more.
“Come on,” he panted. “Give it to me.”
The Other Soldier’s hands clamped tightly on his hips, increasing his speed and force, his breaths increasing in speed and volume and wetness. The Soldier dropped his other hand to rub at where the Other Soldier’s erection poked between his thighs on every thrust. He held his palm there to rub against the tip every time it showed through. The Other Soldier groaned, biting at his ear. The Soldier turned his head away from the lovely collapsing building and caught the Other Soldier’s lip between his teeth, giving it a tug. The Other Soldier groaned again and then, more wetness splashed between his thighs. The Other Soldier jerked wildly for a few thrusts, nearly causing both of them to lose their balance. He panted in the Soldier’s face, still holding him, and then put his hand where the Soldier was hot and hard and aching. He wrapped his hand around and rubbed back and forth. It was the Soldier’s turn to groan. He rested his head back against the Other Soldier’s shoulder and watched the fire through half closed eyes, pleasure building inside him as the Other Soldier’s spare hand pushed up under the tactical vest and rubbed his stomach and pushed towards his chest.
“Looks so good, honey,” the Other Soldier said, his lips tracing across the Soldier’s face. He twisted his wrist and the Soldier closed his eyes, seeing an explosion all his own behind his eyelids. The Other Soldier held him until he was finished collapsing, then produced a cloth and cleaned up between his thighs. He stayed loose and let the Other Soldier take care of him and tug both of their clothes back into position.
The building was quickly turning to rubble, and the sound of sirens was approaching. It was time to go. The Soldier turned and pressed his lips briefly to the Other Soldier’s.
“Let’s go, sweetheart.”