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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[ Scout, who prides himself on a lot of things, one of which are snappy comebacks ( even if others don't necessarily see them as such ), has nothing to say to that except. ]

Yee-ahh... Just keep.. doin' that.

[ His hand is shaking a bit, but he manages to just grasp them together and let his hips do the work for him, tilting his head just so to let Spy have a little more access to that throat he seems so taken with. It isn't going to take him much longer; he can feel heat in his belly coiling up, colors beginning to flicker just behind his eyelids when he blinks. The rhythm of his hips becomes all the more desperate. His free hand wanders up Spy's ribs, over his shoulder and into his hair again, worrying the scalp with his fingers as another moan is wracked out of him. ]

[Spy will take what's offered to him, dragging his lips across Scout's heated skin. His tongue and teeth follow soon after, then he's sucking hard, hard enough to leave a mark after.

He thrusts a steadily increasing rhythm until Scout touches his hair again. Moaning, he pushes his head into those fingers, then into Scout's neck, unsure of where he'd rather be. There's a moment where he bucks, unbidden, but then he's gathering his composure again, breathing heavily.]

Tu es bon, c'est bon, jouis pour moi, c'est ça...

[His words rumble across Scout's skin as he presses his face closer. The hand in his hair adds more to the experience than he'd like to admit, but at least it means he shouldn't be too behind his partner. His hips continue quick snaps, dragging their skin together, and it takes effort to maintain it, but it'll be so worth it. To stop himself from getting too vocal, he digs his teeth into Scout's throat again.]

Edited 2014-12-14 07:23 (UTC)

[ Scout doesn't really know what all Spy's doing to his neck or if it'll last but it feels fan-frickin-tastic. He doesn't understand what the other man is saying either ( it could be a recipe for dip for all he knows ) but he thinks he gets the gist of it from the tone and the way his hips are snapping against Scout's at a delirious pace. His Bostonian reply is about as coarse as the French is smooth. ]

Fuck yeah, Spy, c'mon c'mon--!

[ Scout can barely keep under a damn shout, and when the other man bites into his neck, pulling at the cords of muscle underneath, he has to push his face into Spy's shoulder to muffle the scream of his orgasm. His fingers tense in the other's hair as he makes a goddamn mess of them both, shuddering his way through every pulse of his cock. It feels like he just gave up five years of his life and, Jesus Christ, he's ok with it. ]

[Loud partners have always tickled Spy's fancy (aside from times they need to be quiet, which can be a hit or miss) and he prefers Scout's voice in his ear at a tone like this rather than, well, most of the ways Scout's voice comes out of his mouth.

There's satisfaction to be had from hearing the howl from Scout's lips and Spy answers with a groan of his own, his voice rolling off into slurred French swears, rough and quaking. Once Scout comes, he shudders, still thrusting, seeking release with his hips. The additional warmth and slickness help as he tightens his hold around their cocks.

It doesn't take him long to follow after Scout. He's pumping with one hand and barely holding up his weight with the other, trembling as he pushes past his peak. In comparison to his teammate, he's quieter as he comes. His moans are caught in his throat and against Scout's skin, trailing off into heavy, shaky breathing as he rides out his climax.]

[ What starts as drawing out his orgasm rather swiftly turns to overstimulation, sharp peaks of pleasure that make Scout writhe against the other man, choking out what almost sounds like a sob against Spy's shoulder. Fortunately it seems like the older man has finished too, as he feels twitching under his fingers and registers what he figures must be some sort of dirty French.

When all's said and done, he's a shuddering mess under Spy, unable to do anything other than focus on his breathing for a while. He just woke up and he already feels exhausted. His fingers stroke listlessly through part of Spy's hair as he draws his hand out from between them, wiping remnants of cum off on the other man's bare chest before wrapping the arm around the other's hips. If Spy has to rest on him for a moment, it'll be ok, but soon enough he'll be trying to roll the man off to the side just so he can have his space to recover. And so, you know, they don't start sticking together. He's learned the hard way about that one before. ]

[If Spy had the capacity to care at that moment, he would not have been happy with the state of this mess. However, he really doesn't, not right then, so he takes a moment to watch Scout with vague interest as he wipes his hand on his skin. His voice is a quiet purr as Scout draws fingers through his hair.

He is still mindful of what's soon going to be gross and terrible, so he rolls onto the side where Scout's arm is around him, trying not to settle all of his weight on it at once. Idly, he wipes his dirty hand on whatever sheet he can reach, using his other hand to rub at his eyes. Damn. It has certainly been a while.

What would be really good right now is a cigarette to top it all off, but Spy is feeling gracious, so he refrains. As he gropes around for the sheet to wipe them off, he throws Scout a sideways glance, a small, wry smile on his lips.]

[ Scout wouldn't mind if Spy had to smoke right now if only because Scout's not in any position to mind much at all at the moment. Sweet, post-orgasmic bliss. He catches Spy's glance and puffs at him, rolls his eyes, and starts a crooked smile before he puts a hand over his face, rubbing his eyes and forehead. ]

They ain't gonna wash that til tomorrow at the earliest.

[ He warns Spy, peeking out from between his fingers. His tone suggests he doesn't give a shit, however. Scout's disgusting and will be just fine flipping that part of the sheet down towards the foot of the bed. The best thing to do would to be get up and go wash off in the sink but meh. ]

I'd rat'er t'is on t'e sheet t'an my body, t'anks.

[Getting up? Nah. Spy tries to be thorough with the wiping, but there's only so much you can do before the stuff gets worse and worse.

He rolls over to do the same for Scout, propping his head up on his arm.]

So?

[ Scout lets him because why the fuck not? He's pretty used to being cleaned up after, if not so literally. He blinks. ]

So... what?

[ Is he supposed to be saying something here? Thanks for the lay? Does this mean I have to like dudes now? What's Spy going for here? ]

'Ow was it?

[He's just being his usual smug self. It's not really a question, especially not with the way he curls his mouth into a sharp smile.]

[ Scout tilts a brow. Were you like this when you blew him, Spy? He can't remember. ]

Uh. I dunno about you, Spy, but I'd say it was a success.

[ He gets that Spy is fishing and generally being smug, so he's deliberately being nonchalant. ]

[He chuckles.]

Maybe I should 'ave gone wit' t'e old, "Was it good for you, too?"

[Nonetheless, his smirk lingers. He has Scout's shouts tucked into his memory, which is evidence enough for him.

Not to mention... He reaches out to touch the mark he left on Scout's neck.]

[ At that, he puffs, maybe not gentling, but looking begrudgingly amused. ]

Yeah Spy, I've had worse.

[ He's not sure if he feels better about the situation because he saw Spy seemed pretty into it too, but that probably exactly it. When the other touches his neck, Scout stupidly tries to see what he's touching since it seems like Spy's attention is on one spot rather than trying to stroke his throat like he usually did. ]

Whassat?

Now why would I go and ruin t'e surprise?

[His fingers ghost along Scout's neck for a moment longer before he pulls away.

Oh, shit. The showers. The other inmates might see... Now he's not sure if he should laugh or worry. Most people don't take this sort of thing well ("this sort of thing" meaning homosexual relations, of course), and it shouldn't be hard to put two and two together.

Instead of settling on a straight expression, Spy's face is caught between a smirk and a look of disbelief, his eyebrows approaching his hairline.]

Edited 2014-12-14 09:45 (UTC)

[ Scout glowers at him suspiciously, but it looks like he's just drowsy and not in any mood to care too much. This theory is proven by the way he zips his jumpsuit back up and rolls over. ]

Whateva. Wake me up when they wheel in breakfast.

[ Truth be told, he was concerned about the other inmates too, and that was without knowing Spy gave him a big fat hickey to walk around with. He hadn't heard anyone catcalling or shouting for them to shut up while he and Spy were going at it, but he wasn't listening either. He was pretty sure the guys a couple cells down played Romeo and Juliet, but that wasn't what you'd really call a consensual arrangement. As much as Scout was going to have some trouble figuring out what this was ( or not thinking about it ), he wasn't going to act like any of it was against his will.

Anyway, he was pretty sure he could take anyone that had a problem with him or wanted to be a problem for him, and at this point he was almost sure Spy would have his back. Weird as that was. ]

Alright.

[Right, the zipper. Once he fixes that, he brushes his hair out of his face and straightens his jumpsuit. Then he's on his feet, pulling out his box of cigarettes to light up.

He paces the room a bit before setting his back against the wall opposite to where the bed is situated. Although his gaze lingers, it ultimately lands on Scout, not really looking at him, but just having nothing else more interesting to see.

And he would protect Scout. There hasn't been a moment where he wouldn't, aside from protecting his teammate from himself. That's a different story. But they're a team, not just part of one anymore, a unit, and the thought settles just fine with Spy, though he wouldn't say it aloud.

Yeah. They really need to get out of this place.]

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making my way downtown

I don't doubt it hgh

google translate doesn't do jouir justice

one of those lost in translation things?

like one of those google doesn't want to give inappropriate slang things

not so naughty google

lmao but wordreference just does not give a fuck

wordreference u dirty slut

pffffft

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