Archive of Our Own

The door hissed open, and Sova stepped inside, not looking up as he thumbed through the files in his tablet. It was not often that he visited Cypher’s office, but with everything going on in the world — odd incursions happening all over their Earth — he and the spy had banded together once again to gather up as much information as they could.

If there was one thing he knew he liked about Cypher, it was his professionalism and his work ethic when the time called for it. Sova’s hatred towards him — and Cypher’s neutrality in return — aside, he was a good man to work with, to rely on. Before Fade was recruited, it was only the two of them. Even after she was recruited, Brimstone still relied on the two of them, even though the others had told him to lessen the load off of the two men. It seemed that stubbornness ran in the protocol.

“Sova, honestly, I am so glad that the two of us are working together again,” Cypher chirped happily, and he was handed the tablet. “Have I ever told you how good of a team we are?”

“You and Killjoy do most of the work. I’m just the grunt,” Sova said, uninterested in entertaining him. “At least you recognize that I’m not as technologically illiterate as people believe I am.”

“Yes, yes. I am perfectly aware and eternally grateful to have you by my side throughout it all.” The spy poked around the contents of the tablet with a sigh. “Yet another task gets added to my list,” Cypher said, his voice airy. He handed the tablet back to him, and he whirled his chair back to focus on his monitors.

“Kingdom has upped their security systems,” Sova stated, and he nodded. “But ATLAS has their way to disrupt their surveillance.”

“Unfortunately. Thus, more work for me.” The spy typed quickly on his keyboard and pressed enter, displaying the surveillance footage of two Kingdom facilities. “I managed to locate two of the more recent incursions. Kingdom likes to keep them hush-hush, like in Los Angeles.”

“It’s genuinely a wonder how they managed to cover that incident up.”

“And they’ll keep doing it. This involves the other Earth now. It’s nothing to play around with.” He leaned back in his chair, and Sova bent over to view the screens better. “One incursion has been reported in the Daintree Rainforest in Australia. Another in Baguio, Philippines. Look.”

Through the noisy camera footage, no doubt ATLAS’ doing, Sova could spot the soldiers, both from Kingdom and ATLAS, in a fight to protect their Earth’s radianite supply. “They’re desperate if Omega’s sending them over,” Sova muttered, and he jumped ahead of the footage.

“We haven’t checked on Pearl since September, but the place appeared to be stable. Though things can change quickly overnight.” Cypher sighed and shook his head. “Perhaps they’re losing power elsewhere.”

“Maybe they realized that it was stupid of them to send teams of five to our Earth over and over again to steal our radianite,” Sova muttered half-heartedly, and the spy snorted. “After all, the Legion and K-IND work together.”

“We do too good of a job defending our home.”

Sova hummed. “I was not able to attend the meeting you and Brimstone had this morning,” he said, standing up straight. “I’ve been meaning to ask you for a recap. Our commander is busy at the moment.”

“If you can call arguing with Tejo again ‘busy,’” Cypher said, exasperated. “What happened, Sova? It’s not like you to miss meetings.”

He stared at Sova, who simply thinned his lips as heat tinged the tips of his ears. “I had a personal matter to attend to,” he said resolutely. He wasn’t lying. “It required my attention.”

“Mhm,” Cypher said in response, and the hunter was unsure as to how to take that response. The spy nonchalantly twirled a tablet pen between his fingers. “Either way, you didn’t miss much. More incursion things, personal details about Phoenix’s problems. I suggested forming recon teams while Kingdom is distracted with the enemy. It’s very convenient that these recent incursions have happened in Australia and the Philippines. And you know who had dealt with ATLAS before?”

“Skye and Neon.”

The pen stopped twirling, and Cypher pointed an end towards him. “Exactly.”

“It’d be a good call. They’d feel right at home.”

“And they both can make use of their history there, and it’s not because it’s their home country.”

“What about me?” he said pointedly. “The actual scout?”

“You? You stay here and work with me.” Sova sighed and shook his head in disagreement. “I need all hands on deck here, Sova. Everybody has been turning away my call for help for extra hands.”

“That’s because you are very annoying to work with,” the hunter muttered, and Cypher snickered. “And contrary to what you think, the work we’re doing is actually very boring.”

Sova made his way to the laptop cart, and he pushed the cart towards the sofa. The sofa was out of place compared to the rest of the office — bright with plush pillows on each end and a rug beneath to match — but Sova would consider the furniture to be the life of the place. He glanced around the office, stacked with at the archival storage shelves on the wall and the boxes stacked next to his desk.

Sova pulled out a couple of laptops from the cart to place on the coffee table and powered them on, ready to work yet another night away in the basement.

“Seriously though, Sova, are you alright?” Cypher said as he typed away, his eyes not leaving the numerous screens all over his walls. “Brimstone was concerned, and I am, too. We don’t want blackmail-era Sova to come back.”

Sova grunted, unwilling to expand on his answer. He pulled out another laptop, mentally complaining about the long-winded passwords that the spy set up for every single one. “I was… feeling sick,” he said, which, in a way, wasn’t wrong. Sick in the head, his head prompted unhelpfully, and he waved off the thought when he logged in. “But it was a false alarm. Better to be safe than sorry, though.”

“I can make you some tea.”

“That won’t be necessary, thank you.”

But Cypher was already standing up, making his way to the area in his office where he had a portable gas stove so he could specifically make tea. Brimstone had offered to upgrade his office so that he could have a small kitchen, but every time, Cypher would counter his offer with more servers. Brimstone stopped offering after the fourth time. At least he had ventilation in this room.

“Nonsense, Sova. I’ll make you some tea. Besides, the ritual helps me think.”

With a small frown, the hunter turned his attention elsewhere. He began doing work on the few laptops he set on the coffee table, his eyes darting between numbers and surveillance footage that would normally hurt someone else’s head. He had no idea how Cypher enjoyed this type of work enough to do it nearly every day.

As he locked himself into his tasks, a glass of tea with mint leaves nestled inside appeared right in front of his face. Sova quickly accepted it before Cypher could drop it. “Moroccan mint tea. As you already know,” the spy said. Sova murmured a quick thanks before blowing off the steam to take a sip, tasting the sweet tea.

Cypher, however, did not return to his seat by his desk. Instead, he sat next to him, staring at nothing in particular. Sova glanced at him questionably but returned to his work nonetheless. It was his office, after all.

After a few minutes of blissful silence, Cypher turned to him and spoke up. “You know, Sova,” he started to say, “you’re a very interesting man.”

Sova stopped what he was doing and looked at him strangely, his brow furrowing. He was not liking where this was heading. “What do you mean?” he asked.

“Well, I don’t think you’d have to lie about feeling sick earlier. It’s completely fine to admit that you missed a meeting by doing something else.”

Sova scoffed, finding this entire interaction pointless. He turned back to one of the screens in front of him. “I’m here now, aren't I? So why does that matter?” he countered.

“I think you’re hiding something.”

The hunter nearly rolled his eyes out of his sockets, sick of his habit of dragging something on for longer than it should. “I have no idea what you’re implying here, Cypher. Get to the point.”

The spy turned his entire body to face him, just to truly emphasize his point. “I have eyes everywhere. I’m sure you know. I don’t always watch, but,” he inched closer, “your recent… actions have caught my eye.”

Sova straightened himself immediately, the alarm bells ringing in his head. Still, he quickly recomposed himself, smoothing his face even though his reaction to that statement was not subtle. He cleared his throat. “I suggest you say your next few words carefully,” he warned slowly, and he attempted to distract himself by letting his fingers fly across a keyboard.

“Denial is the first stage, little owl,” he crooned, and Cypher tested him by inching much closer. “I know what you’ve been doing during video meetings where I’m involved. I know what you’ve been doing afterwards, too.”

His heartbeat thumped in his chest and ears, humiliation rushing to his head, and Sova faced him angrily, ready to physically fight him for this. But, to his surprise, Cypher pushed him backwards to the sofa with a strong shove, his body lengthwise to the sofa, and Sova sputtered when Cypher nonchalantly straddled him, settling comfortably on his lap. The hunter, genuinely startled at his behaviour, darted his eyes everywhere, as if he was trying to stabilize himself while he tried to form words in his mouth, but the spy placed two fingers against his lips, and it effectively did its job.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk. Sova, Sova, Sova…” Cypher tutted, almost sounding disappointed, but Sova knew better than that. The spy was surely entertained. He lowered himself, hovering over Sova and keeping those fingers on his lips. Those blue lenses pierced into his eyes, unblinking. “Did you really think I wasn’t going to find out?”

Sova narrowed his eyes at him with a snarl. He reached for Cypher’s wrist to shove him off, but the spy remained on top of him, the bumps of his gloves digging uncomfortably against his lips. The spy’s face tilted closer to his own, and he attempted to push him away.

“I know you’ve been touching yourself under your desk,” Cypher said, his voice sly and roguish. “That you’ve muted the others and only kept my microphone on during meetings. That you rut into your hand during the nights after we finish working. How you say my name when you—”

“You sick pervert,” he growled, but all Cypher did was laugh at his attempt to scare him off. “What we do in our rooms should be private. Something you’re not familiar with, apparently.”

“Aw, Sova. Admit it. You like me,” he said, dragging the last three words out like a melody, completely ignoring Sova’s comments. “More specifically, you like the sound of my voice.”

He tried to ignore how his cock piqued with interest at his suggestive tone. “Absolutely not.”

“It’s not polite to lie, little owl. I thought you were all about honesty?” 

The hunter gritted his teeth at his words. Then he beat himself up for, yes, liking the way his voice sounded. It was one thing to hear Cypher through his earbuds, talking about work and things people didn’t get off to, but it was another to have that voice murmur directly into his ear, being all up in his personal space and talking to him as if he was some new toy to play around with.

But he finally came to his senses, even if it was later than he’d like, and he gripped Cypher’s wrist. He harshly shoved his hand away, momentarily disorienting the spy. Sova glared at him, ready to bite back, but his eyes fell from the spy’s face and down his body until he was forced to look at their current position.

He clenched his jaw and swallowed dryly. There was no innocent explanation for this. Cypher knew exactly what he was doing, of course, like the strategist he was. Now, he was fully aware of the weight on his lap — warm and heavy and way, way too inappropriate — and his entire body flushed with heat. It was his turn to make his move; now was the chance to show the both of them what he truly wanted. And he wanted him to leave.

Yet…

He liked it. He liked it a lot. More than he thought, more than he should have. The weight, the warmth, how close they were to each other. He was only human, after all. Who didn’t like having their dirty fantasies come to life? All this time, for the past few weeks, he had been dreaming of this moment, and he wanted to throw it all away just because the rational, correct voice in his head told him to?

But he hated him. Hated how he sat there, acting all innocent, like it was all the hunter’s fault. Sova squirmed underneath him, trying to wriggle away from the proximity of their zipped-up groins, all while gripping Cypher’s wrist in a pathetic attempt to keep him away. He did not want Cypher to know how much he actually wanted this, and he tried to disguise his attempts with a sneer. The spy watched him silently. They both weren’t stupid; they both knew Sova had the power to end this charade, whether through a solid word or simply throwing him off of him. His poorly thought-out efforts, however, were immediately disregarded when his body had already clearly betrayed him.

He was half-hard.

Blame the messed-up chemicals in his head or deeply rooted natural reaction, but he was half-hard while Cypher was doing absolutely nothing other than simply sitting on his lap. He was growing harder, too, and nothing Sova would say would excuse his reaction.

He had lost.

“You do like me! Or at least, my voice,” the spy said too loudly, too delightedly, and Sova wanted to tear his stupid body off of him. Not for his revelation, but for being too loud. “I knew you’d come around one day… though not like this. Not like this at all…”

The hunter grumbled something incomprehensible as a response. Then drew in a sharp breath as Cypher reached down with his free hand to palm his hard-on. He’d be embarrassed to admit how immediate the effect was; he exhaled slowly as a gentle yet firm pressure was applied, a rhythmic pattern that got the hunter aching for more. How it felt overtook the humiliation that followed. It was all so foreign and yet not — it was familiar in a way that he has done to himself, but it was not his own hands touching him this time.

It felt so much better than his own hands. It felt so much better when it was Cypher’s.

Sova blinked — his eyelids remained closed for a little too long for his face to show anything else other than pleasure — and he stared up at Cypher. The spy watched him in earnest, soaking in every little bit of movement Sova was making while he steadily kept the rolling pressure on his erection. The hunter turned away, his face twitching in thinly veiled anger.

“What a compromising position you’ve put yourself in,” Cypher snickered, even though it was entirely his fault they were like this in the first place. But Sova kept his mouth shut. Whatever he said would not be taken seriously, and he was not going to embarrass himself even further. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

He didn’t. Not only did he want to embarrass himself, he also didn’t want Cypher to stop either, and he feared that whatever he said would prematurely end. He remained silent, keeping his eyes trained on Cypher’s as he continued to rub him through his pants. Though still shallow, his breathing steadied as he made a case for his resolve. 

“Fascinating,” Cypher murmured, his voice quiet and wondering. He slowly dragged his fingers across the obvious tent on his pants, feeling him up. “I expected more protests. You’re really not going to do anything? You’re not going to deny it?”

Sova stared at him some more with a little frown twitching at the corner of his lips. Those lips thinned as Cypher pressed a little harder. “What is there to say? Nothing I’d say would defend my position right now,” he grumbled quietly.

“Are you admitting it, then?”

“Don’t put words into my mouth.”

Cypher chuckled. “Sure, Sova. Whatever helps you sleep at night,” he said, playing along, “which it does. It’s a lot easier to deny things when you only have yourself as a witness, hm? Or so you thought.”

The hand palming his straining erection moved elsewhere, and Sova nearly cried at the loss of friction. “How about we make a deal?” the spy said. He readjusted his position on Sova’s lap, undoing all the squirming he did earlier. The hunter’s breath hitched when he felt his own hard-on, too. It wasn’t as obvious through the multiple layers of clothing, but it was there, and Cypher was making himself known with its barest presence. “What I’ve been doing to you, what you’ve been doing to me… Our reputations would never be the same. Our legacies would never be the same. And we’re both all about our greatest strength. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Cypher nudged his hips forward, pressing their groins just a little closer, and it nearly knocked the wind out of Sova. If his senses weren’t heightened earlier, they definitely were now. He tried to make sense of his current situation and failed — his mind zoned into the feeling of another man’s cock nestled against his. Cypher, much like he was, was noticeably stiff underneath the thick materials of their pants, and the mere thought of it nearly emptied out Sova’s head, leaving him with nothing but the dirty, dirty thoughts he’d been having for weeks.

“So, here’s what I propose: whatever happens tonight will stay between the two of us. What happens in my office stays in my office,” Cypher continued. “Cameras will stay off; records will remain unchanged. No sound will come out of this room during and after. Just you, me, and the sofa we’re going to defile. What do you think?”

Sova inhaled deeply at the thought of his proposition. Proposition, he sneered, as if he was some prostitute he sweet-talked off the streets. But — and maybe it was his stubbornness and his growing lust — he wanted him. Not that he would admit it outright, but right now, in this very moment, at this very second, in his irrationality, he wanted him. 

“You have three seconds to decide, little owl,” Cypher mumbled. “One…”

The spy continued to move in small, rhythmic rolls of his hips, and Sova wanted to close his eyes and simply relish it. If Cypher kept going, he could come from this alone. It’d be pathetic and utterly embarrassing, and it’d cost him his precious dignity, but Cypher kept secrets, not to mention that he was completely right about what he said before; if things were to come out, from either him or Sova, nothing would be the same. Frankly, the deal was everything he’d ever wanted out of their relationship, if one could call it that.

What he didn’t trust, however, was the promise of no cameras. Was he really going to throw caution to the wind just for a chance to finally chase after the high?

“Two…”

The answer was yes. Yes, his body cried out despite his protests. Desperate times called for desperate measures, and Sova was growing ever so desperate.

He wanted this more than he hated him.

“Fine,” Sova muttered, and he let go of Cypher’s wrist before he said the last number. “Do your worst.”

He stared up at the spy, who was surely smiling with glee beneath that mask. His mind churned, thinking of what he was going to do. To his surprise, though, Cypher got off of him, and immediately Sova felt like an idiot. A complete and utter idiot.

Sova blushed from pure embarrassment, and he stared dumbly ahead before he adjusted himself so that he was sitting by the arm of the sofa. It was such an obvious trap; of course, Cypher wouldn’t do anything to him. What was he thinking? Just grind on him until he came in his pants? While that would be enough to satisfy him, he knew it wouldn’t be enough for either of them. He did tell him to do his worst, but he didn’t expect him to do this.  

He hadn’t paid attention to where Cypher had gone, too busy with his own musings, until some things landed unceremoniously on his lap: a bottle of lubricant — used, his mind unhelpfully provided — and a few packets of condoms.

And suddenly, Sova understood the assignment. He made a choked-out noise and covered his mouth with his hand as heat washed over his skin again. He could feel Cypher’s presence appear behind him, and he inhaled sharply when his eyes were suddenly covered by his gloved hands.

“I want you to do something for me, Sova,” he said very close to his ear. The hunter exhaled quietly at the sound of his voice. “I have a little idea.”

Sova clenched his jaw, wary of whatever he was going to suggest from the tone of his voice — it was suggestive in both ways. But he nodded, entertaining the idea. “I think it’d make things a lot easier if we were more… exposed,” the spy continued, and Sova felt his throat run dry. “But I can’t just have you see me. That’d be catastrophic.”

“You’re going to blindfold me.”

“Mhm,” he hummed. He slid his fingers off his eyes, and Sova blinked. Then a piece of cloth covered his eyes, ridding him of his sight in one swift motion, and Cypher wasted no time in tying it up before Sova changed his mind.

“Yes, make it more humiliating for me, will you?” Sova muttered accusingly, and he grunted when Cypher tightened the knot behind his head with a sharp tug. “You just have blindfolds lying around in your office? Do you have a habit of doing this to people?”

“One, they’re not blindfolds. Two, not in my office. Three, they do a good job at shutting the enemy up, if you know what I mean,” he said playfully. “But I have no intention of keeping you quiet. I want to hear you, Sova, just as much as you want to hear me.”

Sova couldn’t see anything other than the very dark shade of blue of the blindfold. Cypher had tied it up tightly around his head, where it nearly dug into his scalp. In some twisted way, it was oddly thrilling to be deprived of his sight, the sense he relied on the most, during one of his most vulnerable moments. To Cypher, too, someone he swore was a rival, someone worth hating.

It felt like he had willingly landed himself in his trap rather than trick himself into it.

Cypher settled on his lap, pushing aside the lubricant and the condoms, stirring his interest once more. A finger brushed along the line of his jaw; the rough material of the leather was gentle against his skin. An oddly intimate touch, ruined by what Cypher said next. “I always did want to blind our scout,” the spy cooed, and Sova sneered. He swore he could hear that wicked smile in his words. “Oh, don’t ruin your pretty face with that frown. Cheer up, little owl. You should know, I’ve been waiting for a long time for something like this to happen.”

There was some rustling — varying fabrics moving against skin — then the sound of multiple things hitting the coffee table on his right. “I trust that you’ll keep it on. I’m putting my life on the line here,” Cypher said, then he paused for a few beats when Sova felt the blindfold with a hand and didn’t say anything back. “Then again, so are you.”

Sova felt hands fiddle with the clasp of his cloak, swift and eager. He had no idea what Cypher was doing earlier — with the rustling and all that — and his cloak was pulled off of him. “Has anyone ever told you that you wear too many layers?” Cypher said, his voice teasing. Sova heard his cloak land on the floor somewhere with a fwump before he moved to remove his vest. 

“Says you,” Sova said, causing him to laugh, not taking him seriously at all. His belt was undone with more enthusiasm, exposing the tight tent of his underwear, and Cypher hummed in satisfaction when he traced the outline of his cock, feeling the hair below his navel that trailed downwards. He hooked his thumbs under the waistband of his underwear, slowly dragging the material down, teasing, feeling, and Sova inhaled deeply at the revelation.

Instead of feeling the leather pads of his gloves, he felt skin. Actual skin, rough and calloused from years of tinkering and fighting. Cypher’s skin, and he was dragging that skin down the V-line of his abdomen, taking his underwear along with it, pulling down just enough for his stiff cock to pop out, much to his dismay and much to the spy’s delight.

Sova then wanted the earth to swallow him up whole, and, at the same time, drag Cypher along with him. He was practically naked in front of a man he didn’t even have the privilege to see. For all he knew, Cypher could’ve been a complete liar; clearly, he enjoyed doing the barest minimum to get Sova to react the way he wanted to. The embarrassment and stupidity he was feeling were unprecedented to him; nothing had ever made him feel this way until Cypher came along. That bastard, he wanted to bite out, that conniving—

All those thoughts were washed away when he felt something cold get poured on the sensitive flesh, and he hissed before a warm hand — again, Cypher’s actual hand, no gloves, no nothing — wrapped itself around his cock and gave it a slow tug. Cypher’s thumb grazed over the slit of his tip, and he spread the lubricant all over his shaft, slicking his skin.

The hunter melted under his touch with a surprised yet soft exhale, his body going lax and his fists clenching by his sides. He tried not to think of who was doing this to him much and instead attempted to focus on the feeling. He swallowed thickly, breathing heavily through his nose while Cypher worked him slowly and earnestly, and he wondered what his hands looked like. What he looked like. It must’ve been quite the sight to see Sova in this light: bare, hard, panting quietly while he touched him.

Cypher shifted, nudging his hips, and he felt his presence by the side of his head. Then surprisingly soft lips kissed his neck, just below his jaw, smelling his cologne and the mint he used earlier for tea, adding to the numerous factors that made this entire experience surreal. He made a surprised noise and slightly arched his back, bucking his hips beneath his touch. No mask, he thought immediately, or it’s up, and that alone — the feeling of soft lips on his skin that set his veins alight — was enough to drown out the rest of his worries. 

“Sova,” he whispered, low and rasped, breathless maybe, and Sova wanted nothing more than to disappear. “Sova, Sova, Sova. I didn’t know you were so eager to feel me. I should’ve acted sooner, but I don’t regret watching you for a little while longer.”

“You talk too much,” he argued weakly as he closed his eyes, and Cypher held the shaft a little firmer and twisted his wrist. 

“I thought you liked it when I talked,” he said, his voice light and playful. “But I’ll shut up for you. Is that what you want?”

Sova groaned; it felt like he was trying to wring an answer out of him, and it was working, because he didn’t want him to stop moving his hand like that.

“N-no,” he said, his voice strained and defeated. “Keep talking.”

“As I thought.”

Cypher pressed featherlight kisses on his neck as he stroked Sova. The hunter drew a low groan as he tugged firmly, steadily, and he repressed the thought of bucking his hips so he could get a little more friction. He could feel it, the build-up pooling slowly deep in his abdomen, but he knew he would not reach his orgasm if Cypher kept up this torturously slow pace.

He tried to focus on anything, literally anything else, other than the spy’s tantalizing touch: the sinking weight on the sofa, the shirt on his torso that stuck to his skin, Cypher’s hand, the plush material under his clenched fists, Cypher’s hand, how warm he’d become, how slick his cock was, Cypher’s hand, Cypher’s hand, Cypher’s hand…

“I want you to touch yourself for me, Sova.”

The sentence broke the hunter out of his haze, and he squeaked out a confused, “Huh?”

“Touch yourself for me,” he repeated. “Show me what I’ve been watching for weeks.”

Sova froze, unsure of what to do. But Cypher decided to move him for him, as he guided his dominant hand towards his aching hard-on, and he wrapped around it by instinct. “Good,” Cypher purred into his ear. “Show me how you touch yourself.”

His heartbeat quickened, and eventually, through the haze, he started to move his hand in slow, hesitant strokes. Perhaps it was a good thing that he was blindfolded. Not to protect Cypher’s identity, but to protect Sova’s ego. Doing so was a lot easier when he wasn’t staring right back at him. If he was, he might’ve kicked him in the face.

“I know you can do better than that.”

God, Sova felt pathetic for following Cypher’s instructions, but he couldn’t get enough of his voice. Especially since he was talking to him like that. It was nothing like the Cypher he had heard for years. He started moving a little faster in quick, even breaths. It still wasn’t the way Sova preferred, but it seemed to be enough to get a reaction from the spy.

"Yes, little owl, good. Just like that," he murmured sweetly. Cypher’s hand slithered its way up under his shirt, sliding up his side and feeling up his skin. Fingertips ran across his ribcage before thumbing one of his nipples, causing the hunter to tense and draw in a sharp breath. “Oh?”

There was an experimental pinch, and for a moment Sova stilled. Then there was a twist, getting him to toss his head back and suppress a moan, shuddering from the touch. But it seemed that he didn’t suppress it enough, because he could hear the smile in Cypher’s voice when he spoke. “Now, what is this?” he murmured. “You’re sensitive here?”

“No,” Sova gritted out.

He screwed his eyes shut and let out a shuddering groan when Cypher did it again. The bastard snickered. “Oh, I’m going to have so much fun with you.”

Sova remained tense when the spy thumbed his nipple before moving onto the next one. He had stopped touching himself, on edge and waiting to see what the man would do next. “I didn’t say that you can stop, Sova,” Cypher said. “Stay focused.”

As if by command, Sova started touching himself again. He tried not to think about the ridiculous situation he was in right now, the air thick around him as Cypher toyed with his nipples. The spy murmured sweet, short praises that kept him going, rewarding him with an occasional roll of his hips. A low, smooth yet raspy voice filled his ears, whispering filthy things and feeling the reverb against his skin. All of this… just for him.

He let him lose himself in this all, trying to ignore whatever the hell happened to him. The spy shifted on top of him, he suppressed a groan, keeping his momentum steady. He learned that Cypher never kept his hands still; his fingers were always skimming and fidgeting his body, refusing to let go. And Sova much preferred that, actually, because it meant feeling him, too.

“I thought you disliked me, Sova,” Cypher muttered. “What is it about me? What is it about my voice?”

“I—”

Sova cut himself off, refusing to answer him, because even he didn’t know the answer to that. Cypher hummed disapprovingly at his silence, but he didn’t stop what he was doing. He sort of wanted to push more buttons just to see what he would do to him, if Cypher was the type of man to break. Sova was good at that. Testing the limits.

“Nevermind. You’ve barely said anything. You usually have so much to say about me,” he said, voicing out his disappointment. “No matter. I know how to get you to talk.”

Cypher started to grind against his leg, and Sova felt his erection press warmly against his still-clothed thigh. He removed the hand under his shirt, and Sova let himself relax somewhat. Then his hand went to hold onto his shoulder, and a hot rush of heat swept up from his neck.

“Do you want me to touch you again, Sova?” Cypher said suddenly, completely throwing the hunter off-guard. He could hear the tease behind his sultry tone. The effect was immediate, however, as his dick twitched with interest. “Do you want me inside of you? To listen to me whisper filthy things into your ear? This whole time you were only getting off from the sound of my voice, my touch. I wonder what it’ll be like when I do you?”

“You’re not going to do that,” he said, calling out his bluff.

The spy hummed noncommittally, unaffected by his taunt. “Want to test that?”

Cypher grabbed his wrist and moved his hand away from his cock. He slotted their hips together, as if making a point. Smooth fabric scraped against his aching cock, and it only took Sova a second to realize that the spy was in his underwear the entire time, and the comment he made earlier made more sense now. The hunter breathed out a groan, and he instinctively reached out to hold onto the spy’s hips. But he stopped him, holding his wrists, and Sova tried to buck his hips to get some feeling going.

“You’re wicked, you know that, Sova?” Cypher slid his shirt up, exposing Sova’s chest. He pinched a nub and twisted it, causing the hunter to squirm and breathe out a moan. “Getting off to the sound of your fellow agent’s voice? During meetings, too? How unprofessional… What would the others think if they discover how filthy their scout is?”

Cypher hovered over him as he pinned his wrists down on the sofa. The spy let out a moan as he rolled his hips, delicious friction rubbing pleasurably against Sova’s dick, and he suppressed a whimper.

“I’m learning so much about you. I didn’t know it was this easy to unravel you.” The teasing lilt of the spy’s voice remained, but even he was starting to lose his composure. “Dreams do come true, hm?”

Sova’s breath shuddered, his lips slightly parted as his chest rose and fell quickly. He could feel it — warm and wet next to his own — and he so desperately wondered what it’d be like to really feel the entirety of it, either in this position or…

He bit his bottom lip. He had a feeling that they were never going to go as far as grinding against each other if he kept his mouth shut. They both wanted more; he knew it. This was all just some cruel game to get the hunter to talk. While Cypher may be happy with what he’d gotten — blindfolding Sova and getting him in this position, hard and wanting, touching himself — Sova was not. He really was not.

“Please,” the hunter barely whispered, making up his mind. He said the word before he could fully process the idea, but it was too late to back down now.

The spy stopped grinding on him for a moment before continuing to do so, except this time it was slower. “What did you say, little owl?”

“Hah, please,” he repeated. 

“Please what?”

He hesitated. That sick bastard, he thought. Cypher wanted him to beg more than he already had. He had already given him his dignity. What more did he want? But the slow drag of his hips brought him back down to reality, and maybe it was okay to beg a little more if things were going to stay between them only. Perhaps his mind had finally broken, and it wasn’t in the hands of the enemy.

“I… I want you. In me,” he said quietly. 

“Do you, now?”

He sounded much, much closer to him now. Cypher’s breath puffed on his ear, and Sova made the motion of raising his hips. He was starting to grow a little desperate. “Please?”

Cypher stopped moving, and the hunter nearly cried. He was throbbing, and with precome beading at the tip, it was only a matter of time before he reached his limit.

“You’re going to have to say a little more than that.”

Sova whimpered, and the hunter somehow managed to tell that the noise almost got Cypher to give in. “Please, Cypher,” he mumbled ever so quietly. The spy pressed his lips to his cheek. “I want to feel you inside of me. I want— I want to feel you move inside me. Touch me, talk to me, anything.”

His body acted accordingly by lifting his hips slightly and pressing against him, brushing their erections together, making his case: a silent invitation to urge him closer. Cypher let out a low moan, and Sova couldn’t help but smirk at his reaction despite the anxious pounding of his heartbeat. “Cypher,” he breathed, his voice teetering on the edge of a whine.

“You…” The spy huffed, then made a noise akin to a laugh, exasperated. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me, little owl.”

Cypher moved to pull Sova’s pants down, muttering about how many straps one’s pants needed. Sova raised himself slightly to help hurry the process, and the spy made an amused noise. He heard a bottle click open this time, and one of Cypher’s hands splayed across his thigh. Sova subconsciously parted his legs in response, causing the spy to snicker, and soon after, a cold, slicked finger teased and prodded its way to his hole. Sova gasped as it pushed its way inside. Instinctively, he tensed, the unfamiliar feeling freezing him in place.

“You’re stronger than this,” he heard him mutter, his voice rough. He sounded far away, though maybe it was because his head was spinning. “Come on, Sova.”

The spy started to work his hole, and Sova tried to calm himself down. He tried to focus on something else, on anything other than the absurd scenario he was in right now. But his head swam with nothing but the thought of Cypher’s finger curling in him, the sound of slicked skin on skin, and his other hand massaging his inner thigh in some twisted way of soothing him. Sova paced his breathing, little noises leaving his lips while he tried and failed to not embarrass himself further.

Then Cypher moved his hand to his throbbing cock, his fingers curling around his shaft, his movements sure and confident and nothing like the way Sova touched himself. His orgasm was coiling deep in his abdomen, and paired with overstimulation from being touched like this for who knew how long; from how his skin burned with every touch; from the spy working him from the inside, rubbing against his prostate, getting his cock to twitch in delight every time he did so, he was so sure that he was going to come.

But just as the adrenaline was starting to course through his veins, just as his body was starting to lock itself in preparation for blissful release, Cypher stopped the hand pumping his cock, as if he anticipated it, and he let go of his grasp, leaving him sore, aching, and wanting. Sova felt like sobbing, or maybe he did, because a pathetic noise escaped from him when he released his breath, begging please, please, please, Amir in his head, but to no avail. So much for the mind thief. He felt like falling apart.

“You feel so tight around my fingers, little owl,” he crooned. Another finger pressed inside of him, and Sova drew a stuttering deep breath as he stretched him out. “You’ll feel so good around me, Sova, I just know it.”

The hunter moaned at his words, at his voice, and immediately he shut his mouth when he realized how loud he had gotten. “You look so pretty, Sasha. Spread open for me,” he continued to say. Sova was surprised at the use of his real name, but a prod against his prostate pushed away any remark. “You sound pretty, too. Moaning and gasping because of me. For me…”

“Ngh…” was the only response he could muster up. He let himself get lost in the sound as Cypher added a third finger, stretching him open in a way he didn’t know was possible. Maybe he was starting to get impatient, too, when his hand started moving faster, with his other hand wrapped around the base of his cock, stopping him from coming.

“I never thought I’d see the day. To see you under me, asking to be fucked.” The spy’s hand lined across his thigh, his touch light and teasing like his voice, prickling his skin. “Do you want me in you, Sasha? Do you want to be filled?”

“Cypher—”

“Say it,” he warned, that delicious voice of his dropping dangerously, and it sent sparks up his spine and spun his head. “Say how much you want me.”

“Yes, please, I want you, Amir,” he hissed, he too using his real name. They had long crossed the line of formalities. This was personal now. Way, way too personal. But he didn’t want to stop, not when he was so close, so close to the finish line. “I want you so bad… Please…”

“Do better.”

Sova’s frown barely lasted a second when Cypher’s hold around his dick tightened slightly, continuing to stroke him at an agonizingly slow and calculated pace, keeping his orgasm at bay. Pleasure coiled itself in his abdomen, and he was starting to feel the effects of a delayed orgasm. It was an empty threat, but a threat nonetheless, and at this point, Sova’s desperation far outweighed the humiliation he was feeling; what remained of his self-control had finally snapped.

“Want — ah — want you to fuck me… I want you in me so bad, to fill me up, please, Amir, just one chance… Please, Amir, please—”

He removed his fingers, and the hunter had never felt so empty. Sova heard rustling once more, then his lower half was lifted slightly from his legs. He yelped as Cypher pulled him closer, and he felt the spy’s own cock slide up next to his, hot and stiff and wet against his hip. His breath hitched, and he stiffened, his head taking a few seconds to process the feeling that holy shit, he’s actually going to do it, and the spy emphasized his point by grinding against him once, twice, thrice, their bare cocks sliding and pressing alongside each other, showing him that yes, he was going to do it.

“Such a pretty man,” he murmured softly. There was a crinkling sound of a wrapper being torn open, then the sound of it hitting the floor. Sova would’ve come then and there if he too didn’t share the same idea Cypher was having now that he was absolutely sure. “I’m going to ruin you, Sasha.”

Cypher shifted so that the tip of his cock pressed against his hole, wasting no time. Surely, both of them were grateful to finally reach this stage of their little game. Sova relaxed for a little bit to allow access, and slowly the spy pushed inside.

All of it inside, in one go, bottoming him out.

Sova gasped and winced, and he tensed on instinct. He let out a shuddering breath, feeling incredibly full. It felt nothing like Cypher’s fingers or his own; it was thick and heavy and a little painful. Yet he wrapped his legs around his waist, flushing their bodies together, getting the other man to snicker.

“Look at how readily you accepted my cock in you,” Cypher purred, returning his hand around Sova’s dick yet unmoving. “Never knew our golden boy was such a slut.”

His face scrunched at the nickname, wanting to protest, but how could he defend himself when he had begged for him to fuck him? Then the spy started to move, knocking out whatever thought he just formed in his head. He rolled his hips in a slow, rhythmic pattern, much like how he touched him, pushing himself in and out while he muttered filthy things about the hunter, which Sova, for some reason, readily accepted, because maybe he was right.

He could feel his orgasm sitting impatiently in his abdomen; the growing pressure threatened to burst at the base of his cock. Cypher kept his hand there as if by punishment, and he rutted against his hold, a swift jerk that got him to groan deep in his throat, trying to chase after the feeling after being denied it.

“Filthy man,” Cypher murmured disapprovingly. “Grinding into my hand while I’m already touching you? Tsk.”

Whatever train of thought the hunter had in his mind was derailed when the spy thrust harder. The tip of his dick pressed against his prostate, and he cried out, his cock twitching. Precome drooled steadily from his tip, desperate for release.

“You better not be coming right now,” he warned, his voice sounding dangerous. Sova whined — whined — a high-pitched noise at the warning. “We were just starting to have fun.”

Yes, he thought triumphantly when he noticed that the spy’s resolve was starting to fray. His legs were lifted higher, and Sova backed up slightly — a part of his torso being held by the armrest — and he felt the spy’s presence get closer to his face. Sova took the opportunity to reach towards Cypher, trying to get a hold of something to ground himself, and he ended up clinging onto one of his arms, the one holding onto his waist. From what he learned, he was not wearing his usual clothing.

“Flexible, aren’t you?” he teased, the hand on his waist holding him tighter. A soft moan filled Sova’s ears, pleasurable and quiet, and the hunter decided that whatever Cypher was going to put him through was going to be worth it if he kept making noises like that; if he could wring out more noises from him. “This — huff — this wasn’t how I imagined tonight would go…”

He didn’t expect this either. Sova simply moaned in response, and his hand flew to cover his mouth. Cypher chuckled over him. “You’re quite vocal for a man of few words,” the spy muttered. “I guess I know how to get you to talk now.”

Sova couldn’t even think about what he was saying. It felt incredible. Cypher felt fucking incredible, especially when his façade broke for a second, revealing how desperately the spy wanted this too, grunting from the pressure around him. But Cypher was moving far too slowly for his liking. He was testing his resolve; challenging his body; trying to see how much Sova could take before he’d break and spill everything they — or Cypher — had been working on for God knew how long.

But he was not satisfied. He wanted more, as though he was back in the training room ignoring the safety limits. Cypher was obviously doing this just to spite him, his head concluded, and he gasped out a word as the spy finished another slow drag.

“Hm?” Cypher hummed. 

Sova clenched his teeth, genuinely annoyed by Cypher's antics. But he repeated himself, of course. “Go faster,” he breathed carefully, his voice muffled by his hand. “Please, go faster…”

“What was that, dear?” It sounded so clear that Cypher heard him. But Sova didn’t care at this point. “Your hand is over your mouth.”

“Are you — hah — going to make me beg? Even more than I already did?”

“Hm.” The spy somehow slowed his pace further, the exact opposite of what the hunter wanted, and he felt like he physically had to hold himself back from expressing his disappointment. How the spy could do this to himself was beyond him. “The thought sounds good. I do like it when you beg…”

Cypher rolled his hips in a torturous manner, just barely grazing his prostate, always leaving him expecting something that wouldn’t come. Sova bit back a moan as the spy shoved himself harshly inside of him — a quick, rough movement that gave Sova tears in his eyes, giving him exactly what he wanted — before returning to the slow pace. Tease.

“Tell me, little owl,” he crooned, and Sova, through the haze, wanted to punch him, as though his clarity returned to him for a brief second. “How badly do you want me?”

“You’re full of yourself,” Sova gritted out.

“You’re full of me,” Cypher teased. He pushed himself once more, and the hunter arched his back, gasping. “Tell me, Sasha. I can wait. I have the whole night.”

The spy moved his hand up and skimmed the tip, smearing his precome all over his cock. Sova muffled a moan, wanting to buck his hips, but the spy’s other hand held him down. He didn’t even want to imagine what his cock looked like right now, flushed red and needy in Cypher’s hand.

“Fine,” he panted, removing his hand from his mouth. It rested on his forehead instead, feeling the sheen of sweat that had gathered. “I want you. To move faster. Please.”

“That’s not very good, Sasha.”

“Please — hah — Amir, please, I want you to move faster,” he said, his voice sounding awfully close to a whine. “I want to feel you deeper inside of me, I want to keep feeling you inside of me…”

Cypher hissed out something he couldn’t understand. Arabic? No matter, it sounded wonderful in Sova’s ears when it was mixed in with the sound of his moans. 

He felt him starting to quicken his pace, and the hand wrapped on his dick started to move again. “I admit it, fine, I admit it. Everything you said is true, just… please, go faster,” Sova admitted in-between breaths, not thinking straight at all. Then, quietly, defeatedly, he whispered, “Haven’t I gone through enough for you?”

The spy let out a moan that was a bit louder than the ones he had done, as if he was caught off-guard. Sova whimpered as Cypher bumped into his prostate again. “You may be right, my dear,” he whispered, his voice ragged. A low whine escaped from his throat. “You deserve better than this. You’re doing so good for me…”

“Keep talking. Please,” the hunter said through his teeth. “Let me hear you.”

They stayed in the motion for who knew how long, with Cypher whispering and mumbling filthy things into his ear. Calling him all sorts of names yet praising him at the same time. Sova’s eyes rolled to the back of his head, overstimulated by the hand on his cock; by the feeling of Cypher thrusting roughly in him; by the filthy messages being moaned and whispered in his ear; by the praise that sounded so genuine.

“Want to come,” he nearly cried. “Want to come so bad, Amir…”

“Shh, Sasha,” Cypher cooed. “You’re doing so good for me. So good… You’ll get it soon, my dear.”

“I—” He swallowed thickly and bit his bottom lip, realizing what he was about to say. The thought that crossed his mind was far too much for him to handle, yet at the same time he wanted it. He wanted it so bad. What happened tonight released the dam of wet dreams he’d been suppressing, thinking that they were out of reach. But tonight… Yes, maybe Cypher was right: dreams do come true.

“What was that?” the spy murmured.

“Take the condom off.”

The spy stopped moving when he said it, surely shocked, and he pulled out. Suddenly, Sova felt incredibly empty, and he audibly mourned for the loss while he loosened his legs around him. He shouldn’t have said that. He really shouldn’t have said that, and now neither of them are going to get what they wanted. 

But… Cypher wasn’t pulling away. Hope flared in his chest despite his uncertainty.

Tentatively, he blindly reached out, touching the apparently skin-tight fabric of whatever the spy was wearing, until his hand felt his wrapped cock. He slowly tugged off the condom, and Cypher laughed quietly, albeit deliriously. “I can’t believe it,” he muttered in genuine disbelief, but he didn’t stop him. “I think you are sick.”

Sova believed so too, even more so when he wrapped his hand around the spy’s cock, revelling in its solid length, the vein, the velvety skin, and oh, he too had precome pooled at the tip, and he started to jerk him off in rough, uneven strokes. Cypher moaned and rested his forehead atop his, momentarily distracted under Sova’s touch this time, before pulling away.

He hovered over him once more, teasing his hole with the tip of his cock. Sova crept closer to him, urging him to just shove it in already, and when the head pressed itself inside, Cypher wasted no time in resuming his pace, jutting his hips forward until he was all inside in one swift motion, before settling his hands by his sides to support himself further. Sova’s hand flew to cover his mouth, just in time to muffle the loud whimper he couldn’t hold back. It was rough and painful and unexpected, but God, he would be a liar if he didn’t say that it felt oh so fucking good at the same time.

“Such a filthy man, aren’t you, Sasha?” Cypher muttered, thrusting in him quickly, not waiting for a response. The hunter’s cock pushed up against the spy’s stomach, caught in-between and leaving a wet trail of precome between the two of them. “Fucking a dear coworker without protection? So desperately, too?”

Sova whined, a sound high in his throat, and it wasn’t stifled by the hand on his mouth. Cypher chuckled lowly and continued, “Taking off my condom just to feel all of me in you? Tsk.” A heavy shove inside of him pressed against his prostate, stoking the ever-growing fire within him. “Nevermind a slut, who knew that our golden boy was such a whore? A whore for cock?”

“Amir—”

“A fucking whore who gets off to their fellow agent’s voice,” he hissed into his ear, as if all of the build-up had finally broken the thread that held up his façade. The pressure in his abdomen stayed high, and Sova arched his back, ready to let it all go if he just… “Who begged to be fucked by him. All wrapped around my finger… All mine.”

Tears formed in his eyes, and he wasn’t sure if it was from what he was saying or the continuous burn of pleasure. “Amir, please—”

“I’m going to come inside of you.” Sova moaned and lolled his head back. He locked his legs around Cypher’s waist once more, forcing him to keep that promise, holding him in a vice. “I’m going to make you mine.”

Cypher’s hips were starting to stutter and give out. It was clear he was close, from his ragged breathing to the rough, uneven slamming against him. Sova moaned — which sounded suspiciously like a half-baked sob — while he clawed at the spy’s back; while his hole clenched, making it all more satisfying whenever the spy let out a stifled moan against his skin, quiet and reserved, all for him.

“Come for me, Sasha,” he encouraged. The pace around his cock didn’t slow for a second; the air between them thick with the heady scent of sweat and sex and Cypher’s cologne. “Sasha, please, you’re doing so good for me… You’re doing so good for me…”

Sova wasn’t sure how to feel, being insulted and soothed at the same time, but the effects were all the same. Sparks danced behind his eyelids as he finally came with a sob, as he finally reached the peak of the climax he knew he fucking deserved. An orgasm so intense that his mind blanked as he threw his head back, his come spurting between their flushed bodies. He clung to Cypher as if his life depended on it. Almost immediately after, the spy followed suit, his cock pulsing as come shot out inside of him. And it felt fucking incredible. 

It took a few seconds to finally come down from the high. At that, Sova felt numb. He had never reached this sort of orgasm before, intense and mind-numbing and far too good for his liking. He laid there, catching his breath with Cypher, his hold around him weakening. Then the spy collapsed on top of him. They breathed heavily together, the silence in the air returning. Deafening.

The moment felt too intimate. After a few more seconds basking in his warmth and taut skin, Sova pushed him away to stand, leaving him on the sofa. Cypher’s come leaked from him, warm and trailing down his legs, and he had never felt more disgusted in his life as his senses finally came back to him. He couldn’t believe himself either.

“Don’t take the blindfold off,” Cypher muttered. “I can’t let you see me.”

And with that, he was reminded that nothing about this was intimate at all. When the haze had dissipated, he reminded himself that none of it was real, from the name-calling to the soothing praise Cypher would mutter to him when what he did satisfied the both of them. It was all just a game, and Sova felt utterly disappointed in himself for ever agreeing to do this. It felt good, but at what cost?

He was not going to break Cypher’s trust, however. Sova kept the blindfold on as he poked around the floor with his boots while he pulled his pants up, ignoring the wetness on both ends of his underwear when he zipped himself up. He managed to find his discarded cloak and vest, and he quickly gathered them up. 

Then, he footed his way back to the sofa, and he blindly reached out. Cypher caught his wrist, and he guided him to his cheek. Gloved and masked now, he noted. He cupped his cheek for a moment, making sure it was his face he was holding, before pulling away from Cypher’s grasp to slap him right across his cheek with a smack. Something must’ve been wrong, because Sova did not feel the satisfaction he thought he’d feel if he hit him.

The spy let out a surprised yelp, and the hunter started to walk towards the direction of the door, footing around, banging against the Cypher’s desk and the laptop cart without a care. He knew he was going the right way. Maybe it was intuition. Behind him, he heard Cypher laugh, sounding a little deranged yet satisfied with himself. The hunter sneered at his reaction, at how he never took this entire thing seriously. How he never took him seriously.

What a joke.

“Good deal, Sova,” he said, sounding almost fond despite what he just did, but he knew better than that. All just a charade, he reminded himself. He tugged off the blindfold from his eyes, blinking after seeing darkness for… well, he didn’t know how long. He didn’t look back once, and the door opened in front of him. If he could, he’d be staring daggers at him. “Good deal.”

He needed a bath.

The door hissed closed.