tosbox | making my way downtown

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making my way downtown

[The big issue here isn't getting fired. No, Spy will be fine for now, considering all that he's saved. Losing a resource as powerful as RED and Mann Co in general is a blow indeed, but Spy can get by. Right now, he's more concerned about living and making sure none of his loose ends catch up to him.

Most of the things he's taking back with him are either essential or expensive. The weapon magazines and catalogues sent by RED are still sitting in his old quarters, along with some leisure books and even some pieces of his old uniform. The suit has always been a part of his look, so he keeps some of it; they make for some decent padding for the wine stored in the trunk of his car.

With his tie slung around his neck and his jacket over his arm, Spy makes a mental checklist of all he needs. His life is pretty much stowed away in his wallet: bank cards, multiple IDs, cash, miniature cloaking device, plane tickets... He pats his pants pocket for the only thing that doesn't fit in his wallet: his passport. Not that he'll need it for the flight, but it's good to have these things just in case.

A tiny part of his brain nags at him, urging him to feel sentimental about leaving his workplace of over four years. But to hell with that - god knows this won't be the last he's seen of them.

When Scout hobbles up to his car, a mess of stupidity and arm casts, Spy is tempted to slam the door in his face and make him eat his dust trail. But, of course, the little mongrel has to pull the mother card and all of a sudden Spy feels responsible.]

I have a jet leaving in fifty minutes. You've got twenty. Get in the car.

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[ It's strange and sensual, such a simple gesture; the other man is half a stranger to him, at least by looks. One of Scout's hands dips down, almost delving into the longer hair but he stops just short, moving to flick the other man between the eyes instead. ]

Fuck, it seems like you been drivin' for it so long, maybe I oughta let you have a taste.

[ That isn't to say the vibration doesn't effect him at all, but that's beside the point. Scout can't blame his dick for being intrigued by any prospect of stimulation, not this far out from a girl. There's a quiet war going on, though. ]

If you bite me, I'm gonna kill you.

[ Still not fully unzipping yet, though his hands are there, and he cants his hips just enough to where he's pressing that part of himself against Spy's face, just daring him to be repulsed. ]

[He takes the flick, moving his head toward Scout's hand and biting at the air around it.]

I promise I won't. But t'at might be t'e only promise I can make.

[As Scout tilts forward, Spy inclines his head to meet the movement, nose and mouth nuzzling the warmth there. His hands seek out Scout's hips, rubbing circles into his pelvic bone. Even if Scout's mind is indecisive, his body is less so, and Spy is prepared for that.]

[ Oh crap. Spy all but buries his face into Scout's groin and the younger man can't really help the stir of interest at that. He can imagine his hands splaying out and scrabbling down the other man's shoulders, pushing him away, but that isn't what happens.

What happens is Scout takes a sharp inhale of breath, his heels digging against the bed frame. There's a certain twitch against the other man's lips and cheek, and Scout's hands unzip the jumpsuit until it's down past his navel. A hand dips inside, knuckles brushing Spy's chin as he takes himself in hand uncertainly, at least to start. ]

What about finishin' what you start?

[ Scout's hand moves under the cloth, pulling himself upright and stroking enough to urge himself a bit more firm; part of him is visible now, just reaching the center of his belly button, though his fingers worry at the head as if still unsure whether or not he's going to let Spy go that far with him. He can tease himself most expertly, years under the belt, figuratively and literally. What does he have to lose? ]

Edited 2014-12-11 06:57 (UTC)

I can do t'at, if you will let me.

[The presence against his mouth draws him in, and he follows it as Scout touches himself. The uncertainty in his teammate's movements urge him to settle back, his cheek still resting against his thigh. He moves to tug Scout closer, to bring his breath closer to his target.]

You seem uncertain.

[Spy wants to test Scout, wants to see if his body will win against his mind. In turn, Spy isn't feeling much on his end-- not yet, anyway. Maybe if Scout gives in completely, he could indulge himself with the feeling of control, but for now, he's content with satisfying his curiosity.]

Yeah. [ Scout will admit it, at least partially. ] I'm not sure how I feel about letttin' you put yer mouth on my dick.

[ Well, it's not just any mouth. If he lies back and concentrates, it could be, he supposes. ]

You don't 'ave to if you don't want to.

[The grip on Scout's body lessens to a gentle, almost ghostly touch.]

But if you back out now, you must keep your end of t'e bargain.

[Looking up at Scout now, eyes hooded but lacking his usual sharpness. While Spy loves to push Scout's buttons, he still respects him, maybe even likes him, somewhere in those layers of his.]

[ Scout is divided between his perceived trust in Spy, his actual trust in Spy, his compass for how straight he is, and how much that matters. His hand pauses, even the flick of his thumb across the head of his cock. He peers down at the other man. ]

What's that?

[ Did he agree to something for this? He can't remember now. The physical stimulation has fractured his admittedly simplistic mind. ]

Hmm.

[Spy prolongs the hum, letting the vibration travel again. His teammate seems distracted, and he himself isn't sure if that's a desirable response right now.]

'Ave you forgotten already? T'e reason I am even considering doing t'is is because you seemed bent on refusing to let me live down my mistake. If you 'ave decided t'at it isn't wort' what I am about to give you, t'en I am unsure as to why I'm doing t'is.

So that's what yer after. I asked you about that and you didn't say.

[ A tiny bit of smugness afforded there. The toes of his shoes hook into Spy's underarms, digging just a little. ]

I dunno, maybe I wanna hold onto that a while. It ain't too often you make a mistake, not to mention fuck up dat bad.

[ Tease tease tease. ]

Edited 2014-12-11 08:11 (UTC)

Alright. So is t'ere anyt'ing else you'd like to toss into t'e basket of gifts I'm offering to you, or is t'is entirely off t'e table? If so, I will back off now.

[His lips curl back, not in a scowl but not in a grin, either. His mouth is still awfully close to his target, but a show of teeth isn't exactly appealing, is it?]

While this isn't somet'ing I am opposed to, you still 'ave to earn it.

[ Scout isn't sure. Jesus Christ, there's a warm and willing mouth ready to suck him off. For any prospect, he ought to be thankful. But he isn't, he isn't grateful so much as he feels entitled, now. ]

Haven't I?

[ Scout pushes his jumpsuit down just enough, with effort pries his hand away from his half-hard cock. ]

Go on, den, Spy.

[ Suddenly confronted with being sucked off or not, his lizard brain vouches for yes. ]

Edited 2014-12-11 08:29 (UTC)

[Scoffing, Spy decides it's not worth answering. They've both got different ideas of what Scout deserves. If it'll come back to bite him when he's through with this, well, Spy has his own ideas of retribution, and none of them are anywhere within the vicinity of peaceful.

One of his hands remains on Scout's hip to keep him steady, pulling him closer to allow better access. His other hand takes Scout by the base of his cock with a firm grip. His fingers provide a cool contrast to the warmth of Scout's body, though he doesn't open his mouth, not yet. Instead, he gets a feel for what he's working with, his touch traveling upwards to stroke the skin connecting the head to the shaft.]

[ It's certainly different, he remembers and realizes both, having someone's grip besides your own on you. The feel of the other man's touch coaxing up his shaft is just as thrilling as the touch of a member of the opposite sex, he finds, which might be interesting if he weren't so concerned with the implications.

You might think a man like him, all vocalization and a large weapon, might be smaller within the law of averages, but Scout is actually a bit bigger than most men. It's less an overcompensation and more a vocalization of what he has, which more often than not ( at least by his methods ) disassociates him from his prospects.

And he certainly twitches under Spy's touch. As divided as his mind may be, there's no mistake his libido is definitely interested in what the older man has to offer him, and he firms up under Spy's inspection.

Scout himself lets out a quiet breath, blue eyes watching the stranger-not-stranger progress along his cock. The stroke provokes a small twitch of his feet against the other man's sides, but nothing more for now. ]

You seem hesitant.

[ He taunts the other, somehow managing an even tone despite the fact a part of him would like to writhe at just this much. ]

Hesitant?

[He breathes the word, finally opening his mouth to let the air from his lungs fan against Scout's erection.]

It is not my problem t'at you are all about instant gratification while I prefer t'e long game.

[His eyes flicker upwards, seeking out his partner's gaze. As he speaks, he draws closer, letting his lips brush against Scout's cock with every word that falls from his mouth.

But he isn't doing this for the pleasure of it. Not the physical kind, anyway-- this is all a game, as usual, and he'll play Scout like a finely tuned instrument. He takes one last moment to smirk to himself, still looking upwards, before dragging his tongue over the underside of Scout's erection.]

[ Scout tenses up at the waft of breath, but he does everything in his power not to give in to Spy's words, to that stimulation. It works, at least until lips drag up against his cock. It's a challenge, he can recognize it. It's not until he sees and feels Spy's tongue draw up the length of his erection that he shivers. Jesus Christ. ]

A--ll I'm hearin' is you really like dick in your mouth.

[ A little catch, excuse him. Oh man. ]

Depends.

[Is he really having a conversation while giving head? A coherent one? Well, it shouldn't last long.]

You've actually got-- [Another lick, faster this time, taking the same course as his last one.] --Quite a number 'ere, 'aven't you? Not all words for once.

[Steadying Scout with one hand, he takes in just the head, applying pressure to the spot where the head meets the shaft. It's a personal favorite of his, and he'll lavish it with attention for a few moments before pulling off again.]

Pas mal. Non, peut-être bon. Je souhaite que tes bruits sont aussi bons...

[He's speaking in french, only mildly aware of the switch in language. It's mostly for himself, as well as the space it provides him, and the vibration, too. He wants to keep the contact light and fleeting until he can elicit more interesting reactions from his teammate.]

[ It's probably incidental with someone like Scout, who has a hard time not talking. The faster swipe of tongue gets a better jerk of one leg. Something else Scout has a hard time with - keeping things far from honest. It's all he can do not to mewl outright when Spy lavishes his tongue over his glans, but he still makes a small sound in the back of his throat, something that sounds as wanting as it is annoyed. ]

I can't fucking understand you, asshole.

[ He huffs, and subtly parts his thighs just a bit more. ]

You sayin' I got a big dick? Tell me somethin' I don't know.

[ Stop talking altogether because holy damn, that tongue is sinful. ]

Edited 2014-12-11 09:29 (UTC)

[With a puff of a sigh, Spy backs off a moment to reposition Scout's legs so that they're slung over his shoulders rather than under them. If you're going to be twitchy, don't let it get in his way.

While he's at it, he pulls Scout forward so he can wrap his arms around Scout's thighs. Doing this while standing still isn't proving to be especially relaxing, but he won't deny it's a very accessible position. Without his hands to steady him, he has to rely entirely on his mouth, though he's certain it won't be a problem.]

C'est pas petit, ça c'est certain. Ce serait mieux si tu ne parlait pas mais gémir.

[Having the last word is important to Spy, too. His eyes rise again, gaze smirking because now his mouth is occupied with taking Scout in entirely.]

[ A smart move, he's going to be a twitchy fucker. His knees grip Spy's shoulders as he's pulled closer, but at this point it's not an issue. It wouldn't have taken too much to sell him, and Spy's got more than enough intrigue under his belt. Spy's mouth doesn't have to be particularly accurate for the likes of him, so it's more than enough. ]

Fuck... you.

[ He'll try, even if he can't understand. But as Spy seems to take him in whole, devouring him almost to the hilt, Scout moans. Fucking Christ. One hand reaches down, delving into Spy's hair, a small admission, even as his head tilts back, reeling with the pleasure. ]

Fuck.

[The hand in his hair pulls a purr from the depths of Spy's chest. If Scout thinks to run his hands through it, maybe even scrape Spy's scalp, he'll be making his own sounds. Right now, however, he's concerned with trying not to choke. It was a bold move to take Scout in all at once, and it's been a while since he's done this, so he takes his time getting used to the obstruction in his mouth.

He draws back slowly, maintaining a firm pressure on the underside, still paying special attention to his frenulum. Once he has pulled back completely, he gives the tip a few quick licks.]

Maybe later.

[His words are whispered against the head before he goes forward again. This time around he'll aim for establishing a steady rhythm of back and forth that slowly builds up speed.]

[ Scout doesn't think of that much -he's selfish, mostly, at his core - he just wants something to grab hold of for the moment. The purr is as goading as it is enthralling, the vibration echoing up the length of his cock. Spy is lucky he doesn't just try to buck into his throat, because he's not thinking ( consciously ) of his partner's comfort.

He feels Spy vacate like a wave, which is preferable and disconcerting. There's a low sound of protest somewhere in his chest.

For once, the offer/threat actually seems... considerable, if not practical. Despite himself, Scout thinks of the possibilities before the other man's mouth dips over his cock anew, establishing a rhythm. All thoughts are abolished; there is the steady pump of Spy's mouth over him, over and over again. He has to last at least two minutes... how long is that?

Scout buries his free hand in his own hair. His other one slides along the crown of Spy's head, down to his neck, before scraping up again. His hips push slightly into the mouth enveloping him, surrounded by the warmth and moisture, he decides he doesn't care who's doing it for him. ]

You sonnovabitch.... you ain't never looked better than you do right now.

[Spy's rhythm falters as Scout's hands go over his scalp. Constantly being covered by hair pressed tightly to his skull under a balaclava in the desert sun has made the area sensitive, and he produces a strangled, weak noise in his throat, something caught between a whimper and a groan. It's so uncharacteristic of his usually composed and confident demeanor that he almost flinches.

He can't let himself get distracted, or worse, involved, and not in the way that meant wrapping his lips around his teammate's dick. While heat spikes in his stomach, he ignores it, focusing instead on speeding up his movements and applying suction. It doesn't help that Scout pushes forward, but Spy does like a challenge, fighting back by clamping his arms down on Scout's thighs to hold him in place.

The... compliment, or whatever it is, is filed away for later, though it does draw Spy's gaze back up. He isn't able to catch Scout's eyes, but he'll be waiting around, just in case.]

[ Strangely enough, he hadn't expected Spy to get involved either. Still, he has to note what comes to him in turn when he's already feeling like a mess under the older man's ministrations.

Spy takes what he's offered, and Scout forgets, but his touch also frays anew, pushing into that long hair and along the scalp, ruffling it up even as he feels himself slide down an accommodating throat.

Scout isn't looking down at the other man except in glances, to see him ducking down anew over his cock. It's stimulating, no doubt about it. It's all Scout can do to press his free hand over his mouth while he groans through it, fingers tightening in the other man's hair just that much on the other hand. He doesn't know if he can last the full two minutes. Maybe he's already gone beyond it? He can't tell - he's beginning a shallow thrust into the other's mouth. ]

[It's only the first scratch that overstimulates a sensitive area. The second dose of fingers along his scalp earns Scout a hum and a suppressed shiver, but that's all Spy will allow past a tightly capped lid of self-control.

Again, Spy's rhythm stutters as Scout tries to defy it with his hip moments, but this time he won't resist it. Instead, he sacrifices some speed to accommodate the thrusting, building his rhythm around it, countering it, even, by going forward when Scout does and pulling back with him, too. It pushes Scout deeper down his throat, but he can handle it, even if his breath is a bit ragged as it filters through his nose.

It's past two minutes. Spy has been keeping track, though he hasn't been trying to affect Scout beyond what he's already doing, and that's not going to change any time soon. Scout already surprised him with his size, and considering Spy is relearning the ropes, he's not going to push himself.]

[ Scout hardly knows he's bothering the other man. He's pretty single-minded right now about getting his pleasure, if maintaining a timeframe.

Driving him even farther down the other man's throat, he can hardly handle himself, even beginning to twist a little at the hips and digging his heels into the Spy's shoulders. He's got the fingers that aren't in Spy's hair in the man's own bedspread, clenching up the thin comforter.

He calls Spy every name under the damn sun. And he comes, hard, without warning, right down the other man's throat, his face buried in the crook of his arm and his fist clenching in the other's hair. It didn't take him terribly long. As far as he knows, it's been seconds past.

But for the moment, he doesn't care. He almost wilts against the bedspread, spent, all grips going slack as he tries to breathe again. Ok. So. THAT just happened. He's not ready to deal with it just yet. ]

making my way downtown

it's all good. after this week I'm freeeeee

Good luck <3 i've got two next week, sadly

noooo welp. soon.

The worst is over thankfully. Soon there will be freEEDOOMM

bless

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