Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

His heart pounded as he tried to hold the look of contempt in Scout's mother's eyes. Every word, every tear of pain, cut into his soul. It hurt. He tried to use the affectionate nickname she had given him in a desperate attempt to calm her down, but it only made things worse. Crass mistake.

"Don't you dare call me that!" the woman shouted after slapping him, her voice trembling with rage. "You are nothing but a degenerate, a disgrace to - get out of here, never set foot in my house again!"

Spy felt a lump in his throat and tears threatened to come. He hadn't expected his past to haunt him in this brutal and merciless way. He had tried to keep his history hidden, but now all had been revealed. He took a deep breath to calm down.

"I am a person, " Spy muttered in an almost inaudible tone, but his words seemed to get lost in the hostility-laden air. "I was wrong, I know... but please try to understand. I deserve some understanding..."

She looked at him in disgust and angrily wiped away tears. "You don't deserve anything, you're a pervert, a whore and a scumbag. I never want to see you near my son or myself again. You are a stain on our lives, It's over you - you freak".

He swallowed hard, feeling the weight of the words.

The woman had rejected him so fervently that he felt he could never be loved or accepted again. Shame and melancholy gripped him. 

With tears rolling down his cheeks, Spy turned and walked away, with each step feeling as if a part of his heart was breaking even more. He lit a cigarette and watched the smoke dissipate.

It was so sad that the sky began to cry.

Spy clenched the soggy cigarette between his trembling fingers, feeling the rain fall on his skin and mingle with the tears he couldn't hold back. The storm seemed to perfectly mirror the chaos of his emotions, and as he exhaled a puff of smoke, he sighed sadly. He decided to drown his sorrows in alcohol, that was waiting for him at the base. He needed to escape, if only temporarily, from the bitter reality that was suffocating him.

He was on his way back in a private cab. 

Arriving at the base, Spy sought solace in the bottle, drinking to numb the pain and shame. But each sip only seemed to make him more aware of his loneliness and how broken he felt inside. His heart longed for the support of someone who would love him unconditionally, but instead, he took refuge in the company of alcohol and the darkness of the night.

The rain continued to fall outside, erasing the painful traces of his tears and sorrows. It was as if Mother nature itself was trying to erase his pain and suffering, but inside, Spy knew that the wounds were still open and that the storm inside him had not yet subsided.

With each drink, drunkenness took hold of him, momentarily erasing the pain. But reality always came back with a vengeance, reminding him that he could not run away from himself. And as the rain continued to fall, Spy clung to the hope that someday he would find a way to heal and find the peace he longed for. He wondered if it was too late to find someone to numb the pain.

The air weighed like a cinder block in Spy's chest as he struggled to breathe. Painful memories and emotional distress were suffocating him, plunging him into a spiral of despair. He needed to get out, he needed air. The blood pounded in his ears and eyes. His heart thudded deeply in his chest. His hands shook. His feet tingled. Everything was not okay. His vision disfigured, as if he were looking through a fish-eye filter. He had to get away. 

Just then, he crossed paths with Sniper, whose concern-filled eyes gazed upon him. Sniper, the filthy jar man, was concerned about him.

"Hey, easy," Sniper said gently, placing a comforting hand on Spy's shoulder. "We're going to get through this together, mate. Just mimic my breathing, okay? Inhale deeply and exhale slowly."

The Frenchman followed the instructions, trying to focus on the sniper's rhythmic breathing. Gradually, the pressure in his chest eased and he could feel the air filling his renegade lungs again. Sniper's comforting words and nearby presence gave him the strength to face the internal storm that was tormenting him.

“Better?”.

In an impulse of vulnerability and need, Spy clung to Sniper tightly, feeling a rush of emotions he could not contain. Tears welled up in his eyes, wetting even more the ballava as he surrendered to the sense of security and comfort provided by Sniper.

Sniper hesitated, but embraced him tenderly, holding him as Spy's salty tears wet his shoulder. Nothing needed to be said at that moment. Words were dwarfed by the connection and support they both silently shared. Sniper was willing to be there for him without judgment or questions.

The embrace lingered as the rain continued to fall outside, washing away Spy's invisible wounds. In that moment, he felt sheltered by Sniper's sincere friendship. He felt safe. He felt heard. He felt good. He even felt..loved?

Eventually, the tears began to subside and Spy was able to regain his composure thanks to Sniper's comforting presence.

Spy and Sniper entered the van, an intimate space that would become their temporary refuge from the stormy night that surrounded them. The interior was lit by a dim, warm light that created a cozy atmosphere. The two sat across from each other, putting aside their usual rivalries and disagreements.

"I suppose I could use some company at times like this," Spy admitted, his voice husky. He was deeply grateful to Sniper for being there, for offering him a distraction in the midst of his pain.

"I understand," Sniper replied, filling two glasses with beer. "Sometimes, we just need a breather and a place where we can be ourselves."

Spy nodded, feeling understood and appreciated by Sniper's words. He picked up the glass and took a sip, feeling the warmth of the liquid spread down his throat, bringing some brief distraction to his emotional distress.

As the hours passed, the silence between them became comforting, a mutual understanding without the need for words. They complained about nothing, there was no room for quarrels or rivalries. They shared a silent bond.

At some point, Spy found himself opening his heart to Sniper, sharing thoughts and insecurities he had kept deep inside himself. He felt safe in Sniper's presence, releasing the emotional weight he had carried on his shoulders for so long.

Sniper listened intently to every word, not judging or criticizing, but simply offering his silent support. His empathetic gaze and comforting presence reminded Spy that he was not alone, that there was someone willing to listen to him and be there for him, even in his shittiest moments.

He felt vulnerable and needy, and in a moment of weakness, he sought comfort in Sniper's arms. Without thinking of the consequences, he pulled him close and kissed him, allowing pent up emotions to surface unrestrained.

The kiss was a mixture of passion and desperation. Spy cried as he clung to Sniper, feeling all the pain and sadness he had held inside him released in that moment. "Please love me," Spy whispered between sobs, his lips barely parted from Sniper's. "I need to feel that someone loves me, that I'm worthy of love no matter what."

Sniper felt the weight of Spy's pain in that kiss, and though he was surprised by the intensity of the moment, he couldn't help but kiss back and grope him.

Chapter Text

"You are valuable, you are worthy of love. No matter what you've done in the past, it doesn't define who you are. I'm here for you, Spy" Sniper's words touched Spy's heart, filling it with a warm feeling. He was overwhelmed by the kindness and understanding he was receiving at that moment. He clung to Sniper tightly, seeking refuge in his warm and comforting embrace. The distance between them vanished as they shared a moment of genuine connection, where words became unnecessary and their broken gazes found mutual understanding. "Thank you," Spy mused, gently squeezing Sniper's hand between his own. Sniper smiled tenderly and gently kissed Spy's forehead.

He kissed his cheeks, cheekbones and lips. Spy felt loved and appreciated. He began kissing him softly, and slowly increased the intensity. He licked his lips, as if asking permission, and was reciprocated. They both explored each other's mouths. They kissed hungrily, with a fiery passion.

Spy untied his tie while Sniper removed his vest. And the kissing continued, the friction, as they hurriedly undressed and jeans, expensive pants and underwear fell to the floor. They looked at each other longingly, with irises practically nonexistent and with a slight steam already rising from their bodies.

He broke off to grab a bottle of lube and condoms. That if the rumor that Spy was something of a slut was true he should take his precautions. He squirted lube onto his fingers and into the space formed by Spy's iliac bone. Thanks to the cold liquid, a brief moment of clarity emerged. Sniper was gazing at his naked anatomy: his sweaty torso, flushed cheeks, dilated pupils and lustful gaze.

"...Do you want to continue? If not, push me. I'm not going to get mad, after all you've recently had a messy breakup and-"

His ramblings were interrupted by a groan. The Frenchman was groaning as he nodded frantically. He was interrupted by a moan. Soon, his fingers were replaced by longer ones. Scissoring, spreading him open, almost like a medical procedure because he purposely avoided his prostate. After adding more lube, Spy began to move his hips, trying to reach the special spot.

"Come on, Bushman. I'm not made of sugar-oh, wow, right there, please!". Spy curled his fingers and began sucking her hard, making room in her cheeks. "Oh, fuck! Oh, my God, don't stop!".

He continued for a while, until the shorter one began to see white. Abruptly, he stopped. "Why the fuck did you do that?". He didn't answer verbally, just spread his thighs wider. He kissed him gently and lined up his thick member. "Take a deep breath, it's going to hurt a little." "I'm not a virgo, pussy-oh God, I feel you inside me." He gave a thrust, half a member only because the other was tight even after preparation. After a minute or two, he rocked his hips, trying to get more stimulation. Slowly, to avoid any fisure, he entered the wet, hot opening until he bottomed out.

"It's so deep... Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!" Spy dug his nails into the white sheets, starting to cry and scream as the cock touched his spot. The New Zealander asked him if he was okay, slowing down and not going so deep, but he begged for more. So he drove his hips back as far as he could to push back inside. He encouraged himself with pleading and tears streaming down his face. His hands clenched and unclenched above his head as Spy pounded him into the mattress. His head rested firmly against the cushions as he arched into the caresses.

He reached down to stroke Spy's cock and Spy, frankly, could have spontaneously combusted right then and there. He shuddered in the other's arms. Then he quickened his pace and kissed him deeply. That was all it took for him to spill over, his sexual climax hitting him . Shivers shook him to the arch, panting. Sniper's rhythm hadn't let up in the slightest as the other cummed.