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"Docteur, may I have a moment of your time?"
Medic looked up from the clipboard he was scribbling on, leaning against his desk in the infirmary. He was surprised to be addressed, and hadn't heard the Spy come in. Of course, that would have made him a rather terrible Spy.
"Ah, ja, certainly. What can I help you with, Spy?" the doctor asked, setting down his clipboard face-down to hide what hadn't been notes of any value, but simple doodles because he was bored.
"It is not so much what you can help me with, Docteur," Spy began, practically slithering up to the German, whose eyebrow quirked at the sudden approach. His eyes watched the liquid movements of the rogue's body, his lips tucking over into a smirk. "So much as you can assist me in helping a friend, my comely coworker."
Medic's shoulders shook with soft laughter at his teammate's flirtations. Ever since Spy had discovered his sexual preference, his friendship had gained a far more teasing edge to it. He could never be sure, however, if Spy was doing much as he would to a woman, complimenting and flattering for the sake of fun, or if he was trying to goad him into some sort of action. It was never, however, mean-spirited, so he had his fun with it as well. "Mein freund, I am always willing to lend a," he took a moment to tug at the edge of his long glove, "hand, as it were."
It was Spy's turn to smirk, his eyes running up and down the doctor like a hunter eyeing up a fresh kill before dressing it out. "And what talented hands they must be." He took a drag from his cigarette. "Are you aware of the... arrangement that Sniper and I have?"
"Spy, there is not a man on this base who is unaware of the arrangement you and Sniper have," Medic snorted, tugging his spectacles off to clean them on his waistcoat.
"Yes, word does get around this little base, doesn't it?"
"Of course it does. Now, inquiring minds wish to know: is your arrangement romantic, or is it simply the lustful rutting of two lonely men?"
"You make it sound so animal," Spy feigned hurt, a grin quickly breaking the facade, "however accurate it may be. And no, there is no romance there, at least, as far as I am able to tell. Simply, as you put it, lustful rutting. Copious amounts of it."
"So are you here to brag to me, or is there a direction to this conversation?"
Spy stubbed out his cigarette in a metal emesis basin sitting nearby and rounded on Medic. He was so close the doctor could smell his cologne, his smoke, and the heady mix of pheromones swirling around him. He looked ready to pounce, to take his teammate right there, over the desk, and ravage him like the animal he claimed to mimic. "Docteur, you, like myself, like many of the men working for this strange little company, are a man of specific tastes. Well, the man who I've been tasting has his own perversions, one of which I managed to wrench from his lips in a fit of passion. It is something that took quite a bit of work to get from him; one of those filthy, sticky thoughts one cradles in the back of his mind, only to be recalled when one is alone and in possession of a bottle of lotion. It is also one I quite like the sound of, and would like to make a reality. And I need your assistance in this endeavour. If you are free."
The lustful look in Spy's eyes was all of the hint Medic needed to get a reasonable grasp of what was being asked of him. Putting his spectacles back on, he licked his lips. "Will I need any supplies?"
"How much petroleum jelly do you have on hand?"
***
Sniper trembled, shivering, his body ablaze with a flurry of pleasures. Bent over on his elbows and knees on Spy's bed, his bottom in the air, he sucked in air through his nose, his eyes crossing under the rear assault he was enduring. Spy's hands gripped his ass cheeks roughly, spreading them, his tongue lavishing the sensitive, warm flesh between. Tracing the ring of his entrance with the tip of that wet appendage, the rogue alternated between gentle, light touches and long, wet, flat-tongued laps across the dusky rose pucker of the bushman's anus. The muffled, panting whimpers issuing from Sniper were like music to Spy's ears, always so pleased with himself when the simple application of a skilled tongue to a location that received so little pleasurable attention could reduce the proud hunter into a burbling puddle on the mattress.
Medic was making his situation no better, cradling Sniper's head in his lap, filling his mouth with his cock, quiet groans escaping him as he held the bushman in place, his warm tongue laving over the underside of his head with practiced skill. The German's scent was intoxicating, at once masculine and musky, yet with the hint of cologne and soap that came from a man of fastidious grooming. His face buried in Medic's loins, he relished being able to experience the doctor like this, red-faced and disheveled. Somewhere in the back of his mind, where thought still worked in spite of the best efforts of Spy's tongue, he wondered how long it had been since Medic had been with another. Surely he'd seen the doctor cast longing glances at their team's Heavy before.
Any further speculation went right out, flung from Sniper's head when Spy's tongue pressed into him, wriggling in through the rapidly-relaxing muscle that guarded the way into his body. Shaking, Sniper's groans increased volume, muffled against the hot flesh of Medic's cock still between his lips.
Finally, Medic could take it no longer and pulled himself from the wet heaven of the Australian's mouth, panting in a mixture of need and relief. "You are too good at that," he marveled, leading Sniper to look up and smile in the midst of his own ecstatic maelstrom.
Spy plunged deeper, lips meeting warm flesh as he felt the bushman relaxing around his thrashing tongue, his own need growing with the thrill of tasting and touching Sniper in such a private way. It never failed to overwhelm him, and now was no different. Finally, he relented, letting Sniper fall to the bed in a heap, gasping for breath. Sitting back on his heels, he nudged the assassin to roll over, which he did with no small effort. Lying there on his back, rock hard and flushed, Sniper looked up at the men hovering over him, hunger in their eyes. It sent a shiver through his libido, having two men all for his own.
Medic knelt beside him, bending down to lap at the head of Sniper's cock; long, slow licks spreading hot saliva along sensitive flesh. He looked to Spy, who took the invitation and joined him, mouthing at his shaft from the other side. Their tongues made their way up, then down, then up again, lips catching flesh and suckling at it, wet trails left in their wakes as they tasted and teased him, capturing his head between their lips. Their tongues intertwined along him, distracting them into short kisses before returning to the object of their affection. Sniper craned his head to watch, burning the image into his mind as he watched the two handsome men lavishing him with attention. The hot waves of pleasure that rolled through his groin certainly assisted in his lascivious trance.
"Don't wanna come yet," the assassin barely managed, nearly melting as two pairs of blue eyes flicked up and locked onto his. They exchanged glances and relented, sitting up to confer amongst themselves. Sniper simply flopped back onto the bed, a mess already, and he knew there was going to be more. If Spy were true to his word, if he'd managed to convince Medic entirely, there was going to be so much more.
Medic climbed off of the bed and went to fetch something from the small kit he'd brought with him, laying on the night stand. He fiddled with his supplies while Spy climbed atop Sniper, wrapping his arms around the taller man and capturing him in a kiss. The doctor couldn't help but notice. It was certainly an enthusiastic one, but there was more to it. He could see the look on Spy's face as he captured Sniper's lips. The pained furrow of his brow as their tongues tangled. No romance, he'd said. He'd almost had Medic fooled. Whether Sniper had any emotional investment or not, Spy clearly did. Whether he'd bothered to tell his partner or not, that was another story.
Pulling a jar of petroleum jelly from his kit, he set about slathering the stuff over his length, being liberal with the application, knowing they would need much. He wiped his hand on a handkerchief he'd brought, and dropped it on the night stand beside his kit. Stepping back over to the bed, he cleared his throat, almost sad to break up what was obviously for Spy a bitterly tender moment. The rogue looked up at the doctor and steeled his features, falling back into the slightly-dispassionate, all-too-lusty mask he'd worn since this had begun. He rolled off of Sniper and tugged the bushman with him, making room for Medic.
The older man lay down on his back, beckoning to Sniper to come over, to climb on, his cock hard and waiting. He handed the jar of lubricant to Spy, who slicked his fingers up and thrust them into Sniper as he began to crawl over. He stilled, shivering, as his lover slicked him up, coating his insides and quite a bit of the outside with the slick jelly.
When those fingers left him, Sniper approached the doctor, ready to climb on. Medic stopped him with a hand on his chest. "Face away from me," he nearly moaned, his voice breathy and thick with lust. He wanted to watch himself sliding into and out of the lanky Australian. Doing as he was told, Sniper threw one leg over Medic, straddling him, and sat high on his knees. Reaching back, he grabbed hold of the doctor's slick cock and guided it slowly into him as he lowered himself. Medic watched eagerly as he entered the assassin's ass, sliding in deep, so deep, until he was seated on his lap. His eyes fluttered closed as his head hit the mattress, hands finding their way to Sniper's hips.
Sniper leaned forward, hands on the mattress, and began to roll his hips, slowly at first, his lips parted, breath puffing between them. Sliding in and out of him, Medic felt so good, so different from the Spy he was used to. Medic's cock was a little fatter, a little shorter, and curved towards its owner's belly more than Spy's did. It dragged against his insides, hot and slick against the walls of his rectum, stretching him open and making him shiver.
Spy wrapped his arms around Sniper once again, pressing kisses against his neck and shoulder as the doctor rolled his hips along with the bushman's, drawing groans from both men. It had Spy dizzy, watching another man making love to his Sniper, but he had to remind himself that this was not love being made, and Sniper was not his. He bit that tender neck, clamping his lips down to suck blood to the top layer of his skin, marking him anyway. Actions spoke far more clearly than words of what they did together.
When they finally broke, Medic's arms slid up Sniper's sides to wrap around his middle, tugging him back to lay flush against his belly, hands roving over the gunman's slim body. Fingertips tickled through the tuft of hair that lay at the center of his sweaty chest. "Are you ready?" the doctor asked, whispering into Sniper's ear.
The assassin gulped and nodded. He was as ready as he'd ever be, about to realize a fantasy he'd never thought he'd get to live out. He watched as Spy scooped a liberal amount of the jelly from the jar in his hand and smeared it all over his cock, then greased his entrance, where Medic still lay inside him. He set the jar aside and wiped his hand on a discarded shirt; he wasn't sure whose.
Leaning in, Spy pressed himself against Sniper's entrance, against Medic's cock, and watched the assassin's breath begin to stagger. He was so worked up, the Frenchman found his heart melting. He was helping Sniper realize a dream, and he would get to watch every beautiful grimace, every lovely contortion that screwed up his handsome face as he did. It was a privilege. Bracing himself, he began to push in. It was difficult getting inside, but once he did, the insane tightness overwhelmed him and stole the air from his lungs. He shivered, gripping Sniper's hips as he pressed onward, slowly, so very slowly, wrapping one hand around his partner's cock to stroke him.
Sniper was silent, save for the hissing breaths bursting from between his teeth at erratic intervals, his eyes closed tight, his jaw clenched hard, his whole body electricity incarnate. He trembled and shook, clinging to Spy's shoulders like a lifeline, Medic's arms tightly around him to hold him as still as possible. His legs went tense, his toes curling painfully tight against the balls of his feet. Words and thoughts were luxuries he could no longer attain, grasping at the barest concept of basal functions. Were it not automatic, he would have forgotten how to let his heart beat.
He was full, so full, stretched so wide around his two lovers, slick and hot inside him. His head lolled back against Medic's shoulder as his legs quaked. When Spy finally slid in to the hilt, filled to the brim, he finally let out the breath he didn't realize he'd started holding. His eyes opened slowly, hazily looking up at the Frenchman above him, his face practically glowing, the broad smile across it speaking volumes not just of his pleasure, but of his joy in seeing Sniper in such a state. Gears began to turn in his mind, but when Spy began to withdraw to thrust, the whole contraption splintered, leaving him a mindless slave to sensation.
Medic bucked his hips up, bracing his legs to thrust in time with Spy, pulling out as the rogue entered, entering when the rogue withdrew, dragging husky, desperate groans from the man between them. The doctor wasn't sure how much longer he could last, dragging himself against the Frenchman he shared Sniper with, wrapped so tightly in the slick heat of the gunman's ass. He buried his nose in Sniper's hair, planting encouraging kisses against his head, whispering compliments in between curses of pleasure.
Spy was in no better shape, his eyes locked on Sniper's face, twisted in a mixture of discomfort and ecstasy, his parted lips so beautiful to the rogue inside him. Sharing Sniper was hard for him, but if it meant seeing him like this, so blissful, so enthralled and jubilant in his realization of his darkest desires, then perhaps it was worth it. Feeling Medic sliding against him inside of the lanky rifleman, he was sure it was worth it.
“Gonna,” was all Sniper was able to whimper, his hips rising into Spy's hand, rebounding between it and back down, onto their cocks, unsure of which direction to go. His hands clamped down on the sheets below him, his body going tense. He pressed his head hard into Medic's shoulder as his back arched up, hips down, taking both men to the root inside him. They stilled, holding him close as he clenched around them, his whole pelvic floor rippling with the choked cry that forced its way past his teeth. He came in Spy's hand, shooting out onto the rogue's belly, his body having lost form, lost permanence, a fleeting concept in the sea of sensation that consumed him, that subsumed him, and he was then a part of it.
A creature of naught but feeling, he shuddered and convulsed softly as both men took their pleasure of him, arms holding him close as they rode him to their own completion. Medic came first, overstimulated and overheated, emptying himself into the witless ruin of a man atop him, his orgasm muffled against Sniper's warm, soft neck. Spy followed soon after, burying himself in Sniper, claiming him in a loose, sloppy kiss, moaning into his lover's mouth as he filled him one last time.
Leaving his body, Sniper ceased to have bones, a jelly of flesh seeping off of Medic and onto the rumpled sheets of Spy's bed, panting heavily, or so it sounded. Air didn't make sense to him anymore, and he wondered what it must be like. All he knew was bliss, and heat, and moisture, and soreness. Perfect, amazing soreness.
Medic sat up, eyeing up Spy who knelt above them on the bed, and grinned. “Sniper,” he called, making the insensate assassin's head loll to one side, to see him. “You should probably see this.” And he was on his hands and knees, crawling over to the rogue kneeling there, red and sweaty, his belly painted by the puddle on the sheets they called a partner. His tongue snaked out, pressing flat, in long, slow laps up Spy's belly, along ridges of muscle and over the line of hair that led down it from his chest. He licked up each spot of Sniper's seed from the Frenchman's flesh, and turned to see Sniper appreciating the sight, even if his body could barely react. A kiss, a probing tongue, and then the Australian tasted both Medic and Spy, his head swimming with sensory input, and unabashed arousal.
Spy knelt over Sniper, claiming him the moment Medic left, possessive, needy. He wrapped his arms around his supine lover and smiled to Medic, who raised an eyebrow as if to say, “I understand.”
“Thanks, Doc,” Sniper croaked, when Spy's lips left him long enough to do so. “Really.”
“Don't thank me,” was all Medic could say. “You should thank Spy. He was the one who made this happen. I'm simply a warm body and a hard schwanz. You are lucky to have his support.”
“S'pose I am,” Sniper agreed, casting his gaze to Spy, a goofy smile working its way across his lips.