Men get lonely.

They aren't always the sex crazed, lustful creatures that they are sometimes portrayed to be.

But after years and years in a war with zero women, fighting day after day, you gotta have your outlet somewhere.

The man advanced slowly on his prey. It wasn't like anything he'd caught before. Animals in the outback reverted to cub-like states, whining, mewling, begging in their own pitiful language not to be killed; Sniper couldn't count the times it put a grin on his face to see something fierce like a 'Devil to bark for its litter-mates before its organs splayed on the ground. But this had too much dignity. Too strong to resort to that. And, this one was much smarter.

He froze at that gun barrel pointed at his head. Froze, but absolutely could not stop grinning. Sniper had underestimated it, what a fool! It had merely removed the weapon from its coat pocket without any hesitation. Wisps of moisture came with each breath, and along came the worry of tiring it. The Kukri stay at his side, relaxed. The prey looked alarmed. Wasn't the reaction it expected, most likely, probably looking for the fear that it itself harbored deep within.

Sniper was too obstinate for that. It took a real dingin' Aussie to hunt down that Spy, so professional and clean. BLU had lost something fierce, and that's when Sniper struck. With everyone in a tizzy, no one would miss one tiny, insignificant spy. He hadn't expected the scene at all- so much for being stealthy, because he'd been a sitting duck, right in the middle of the damn snow, so contrasting with blue and red against white.

"You're gonna put down that gun, mate," purred the Australian lowly.

"I'm afraid not." Spy shifted his body, a twinge of pain marking his features and a quiet hiss escaping his lips. A long, ragged gash ran down his thigh, and though the bleeding had long since stopped it would keep him from going anywhere fast. It wasn't deep enough to kill him, of course; just deep enough to give him a limp for the rest of his life. It'd make him easier to tag on the field, wouldn't it? And Sniper had just found him like that! The fresh trickle of blood sliding down those wonderful cheekbones was courtesy of him, however, but he hadn't quit struggling. Yet, it still hadn't disabled him from shambling up the wall and using it as a crutch. Silly to forget to tie down the man; he seemed to be losing his touch. The Aussie took a step forward. The revolver was jabbed at his direction again. "Do not think that I will not shoot you."

A rumbling began in his throat. Slow and growling, building in intensity. Sniper laughed. Oh god did he laugh. Who did this man think he was? So haughty and arrogant! He couldn't have been sane. "Do all Spies think like you?" He caught the smallest of twitches of the BLU's left hand; that couldn't have been anything else but a shiver! "You afraid of the big bag wolf? Think I'm gonna get'cha?" The Kukri became gripped by white knuckles. Tremors struck his body. Sniper couldn't remember the last time he was this excited, or this angry.

He wanted Spy so bad.

"Drop the gun."

"I refuse."

"You wanna die here? Not opposed to killin' ya'. One chop'a the knife, your head'll come clean right off."

Spy bared his teeth in what might have been a bitter grin. "Then you wouldn't be enjoying this nearly as much."

Sniper paused, thoughtful. "You're right, I wouldn't be," he finally conceded after a period of silence, raising his blade to slowly caress it like a lover, like what he wanted Spy to be. "But then again, corpses don't talk back none."

The Aussie lunged. He struck the gun out of Spy's hand; it clattered to the floor and shattered the deafening silence, and just before Spy could withdraw his knife that hand was restrained. Then, so too were the other limbs, until Sniper had himself pressed so close to the Spy that he had to place his head next to the man's for fear of kissing him as kissing was only saved for those special, more intimate moments. That'd take a bit of coaxing from this man.

Spy struggled like the lamb he was, to no avail regardless. He even bit at Sniper's neck (the only available target) so ferociously that the skin broke and trickles of blood ran down his chest.

So warm. God, Sniper was hot all over. Hot because he wanted to take this man in the most vile way possible. Hot because Spy just didn't give up- live prey was always the best prey, after all. He could feel the blood drain from his skull into another head.

Only then, as the pressure built between them, did Spy realize why Sniper had taken him.

"Release me!" Spy gasped.

"Never!" Sniper cackled, throwing his and Spy's body to the floors and making sure to keep himself on top. "Yeh too much fun, Spy! Too much fun! Struggle more! More, damnit!"

Trembling hands fumbled with the two metal latches that kept each heat separate. Spy's arms were safely pinned under his own body weight; broken, actually. Quick, clean snaps, something his Medic could fix easy with that magic gun of his. That audible pain was so delicious Sniper actually began salivating at the mouth. His own knees lay situated painfully on both sides of Spy's groin; but it wasn't like Spy was going anywhere with two broken shins. It was all so simple, why hadn't he thought of it before! Beast-like grunts were soundtrack to every movement, every shift or molestation, perfect for this predicament that Spy now found himself in.

Sniper throbbed when his prick finally hit the air. He took himself in hand - such a wonderful feeling, slow, nearly painful strokes sending bolts through nerves. "Ain't it too bad you can't do this feh me yehself, Spy? It'd feel so much bettah," the Aussie rasped. "Look at me, Spy- look at me! Don't you dare turn yeh head away. Don't you just wish you could suck me off?"

He slid his body up the Frenchman's. Spy cried out in further pain, Sniper's weight certainly not what his arms needed. Sniper took the opportunity, and shoved himself in. An expletive escaped his lips. Everything he'd imagined and more, by God, and more! Spy certainly knew how to pleasure a man from experience; either that, or he'd been born with the gift of a woman's curious pie hole.

Soon enough, it was time.

Sniper removed himself from Spy's mouth, and had to connect a fist with one bony French cheek for just the slightest scrape of teeth against the head. "Won't make that mistake again, now will we, ey!" He moved down to Spy's bare legs, hidden arousal beneath a pair of plain cotton boxers. Like a kitten, he played with the elastic, popping the band a few times before pulling it back to reveal the treat beneath.

For a bit of fun, Sniper nipped at Spy's head. "Baiser!" He bit down harder. "Salaud! Fucker! Violateur!"

That drew the line. Without a second thought, a moment's pause, Sniper invaded Spy's ass with all of the aggression that the German's had when taking over weak little France. Spy's yelling only spurred him on further, each stroke getting faster, harder - oh god, he was so close, too close, it was all too much for him, his lover's tight, no-longer-virgin-ass bringing him teetering to the edge-"Spy!"

Fuck, Sniper didn't want to cum as quick as he did, but nothing could help that. He pulled out in the middle of his orgasm to spray the rest of the sticky substance all over Spy's stomach. "You're too kind, mate. Too kind to let me do this," sighed the man, standing up. He sloppily put his clothes on to hide his naked, shivering body. "Good night, Spy! I'll see yeh in the mornin'. Keep warm, mate."

"What the hell is this thing?"

The slender runner ran his hands over a shiny bag, feeling all the lumps inside. It had just been laying there behind the base, half-buried in snow; maybe it was fate that Soldier's rocket should send him flying all the way over here. He shook the bag, frowning when that didn't seem to sway him in any direction as to what it might be. "Maybe it's treasure. Or that thing'a Bonk I been missin'! I knew them bastads were lyin' when they told me that it was lost in ship... oh, oh dear gawd..."

Scout couldn't tear his eyes away from the glassy, terror-stricken gaze of the BLU Spy's disembodied head. "Who... who would do somethin' like this!"

"G'day, lad."

The voice was icier than the cold that sent a shiver up Scout's spine.

"What's that you got there?"