Red vs. Blue. Leonard L. Church. 006. Hours
On the other end of the radio, Church didn’t exactly hear a response… Just the private humming something like elevator music. Or Journey… Whatever it was, it only made Church angrier. “Helllo? Tucker?” Still nothing that resembled an answer. He sighed, annoyed. But at least now he got it. “Ahem.” He began, his voice sardonic and loud, “Tucker, what the fuck is going on?” another pause, he sighed again. “… Over.” He said flatly.
“Nothin’, Church.” Tucker replied (Church could hear him suppressing laughter.) “Look, man.” Church scoffed, “I’m gonna fucking kill you if you don’t untie me RIGHT now!” The cobalt soldier pivoted his head, staring up at the tree, he groaned in annoyance and rage.
“Un… Untie you?” Tucker said, an obvious faux innocence in his voice. “I simply don’t know what you could be talking about!”
“You know what? …You’re fuckin’ dead.” With that, Church turned his radio off, banging his head against the tree trunk. Goddammit… Church was surprisingly docile for being tied to a tree. He sat there, for a while, not struggling, screaming or anything; just not too fucking happy. However, he was still Church (translation: lazy), so he hung around, daydreaming about kicking Tucker’s ass the second he was within reach. The heat was getting to him a little, it was humid; but being in the shade, Church simply dozed off.
He awoke later (how much later was anybody’s guess) to a swift kick in the head. “Goddammit!” he yelled, looking up at the source of the blow.
“Well, well, well… If it isn’t my old cellmate! How’s life on the outside treati-Oh! Oh my… You seem to be tied up there-”
“Shut the fuck up and untie me, Grif.” Church said, sneering through his helmet. He glared at the enemy soldier as he removed his helmet. “What the…” he muttered, glare slowly turning into a furrowed brow of intense confusion as Grif moved to remove his helmet.
“Untie you?” Grif said, lowering his own face to Church’s, staring into his burning blue eyes. “Now why would I do that?” A wicked grin crept across his face. The private smirked, now kneeling to be on the same level as Church. “I’m gonna have fun with this…” He muttered, looking away momentarily. His eyes faced Church once again, giving him an almost painfully slow once over before making eye contact once more. “Just… Close your eyes.”
“Do what?! Heh, you’re fuckin’ insane, buddy.” Church said, rolling his eyes in frustration. He looked back to Grif, “Just… Untie me, alright?” He said quietly and with pleading eyes. The sun was rising, afternoon heat creeping through the canyon. He was hot and growing sicker of this by the second. To anyone who knew Church, it would be very difficult to describe the emotion he was portraying, it wasn’t something he himself portrayed often; those were the words of a mentally broken man.
Grif of all people couldn’t see whether Church was being genuine or not, and since it was Church, he’d just as quickly assume he was messing with him. Church doesn’t show weakness… He’s got an angle here, and I’ll be damned if his ends and means come before mine. “Look, blue guy… If you’re not going to cooperate, you’re just gonna stay here… All… tied up and vulnerable.” Grif said, biting his lip slightly while imagineing exactly how he could use this to his advantage.
Church lashed out immediately “Hey, fuck you. I am NEVER vulnerable!” He was desperately trying to regain his composure, he wasn’t about to let Grif do… Well, anything he was (quite obviously) intending to do.
… Not unless he could have a level of control that was quite unobtainable when bound to a tree.
“If you’re not going to cooperate,” Grif said again, this time with less subtle airs of seduction, “you’re never going to get what you want.”
“Well, if cooperating means allowing you to fondle, rape, or molest me… You might as well just leave.” Church said, his eyes held a mixed bag of frustration, unwillingness, and reluctant compliance; all at once.
Grif leaned in close to him, moving his head over to whisper in Church’s ear, his cheek lightly grazed the bound man’s stubble. “You can’t rape the willing.” He murmured.
Church’s eyes rolled back in his head, feeling the orange soldier’s face brushed against his, the breath on his ear. So yes, he wanted this. Desperately. “Grif…” he said softly, at this Grif pulled back, again eye to eye with the other man; he awaited the rest of this sentence. “I… really want you… To untie me right GODDAMN now!” No matter how much he may have been willing, Church just would not let himself be that vulnerable. He preferred to dominate, not be pushed around. That was what he thought, at least.
“Hey, buddy… You’re not exactly in any position to be pushing me around right now, ‘kay?” Grif scoffed at him. Who the fuck did he think he was? Tied to a fuckin’ tree… And he’s STILL trying to be the boss?! Maybe he’s even more of an asshole than I thought. I like that. He knew Church would be resistant… But Grif was starting to lose his patience.
Grif leaned in close to the other man once more; they were nose-to-nose now. “I figured you’d be more pliant than this… ” He said disappointedly, looking to Church with sadness in his eyes. Even though Church knew it was simply a ploy to further manipulate him; Grif’s eyes still burrowed right through him.
Maybe it was… The proximity, the heat? The… the fact that he was tied to a tree? He just couldn’t rationalize it any more (so why was he still trying so hard?). Fuck it… I need to be untied. This would be Church’s final rationalization before he finally gave in to what he felt. “No need to be pouty…” He said simply as he turned his head, lips parted and leaned in, delivering a kiss as aggressive as it could possibly be when you’re restrained from the shoulders down.
Church could feel Grif’s hand on the back of his neck; chills went down his spine as the orange soldier began playing with his hair. Slowly, almost tauntingly Church began sliding his tongue into Grif’s mouth; as he did this, Grif’s grip on his hair tightened, he pulled the bound soldier closer. The fervor of the embrace grew until suddenly, Grif paused.
“Mmnhm…” Grif mumbled, his hand moving from Church’s neck to his chest as he pushed him back against the tree; breaking the kiss. “… You deceptive bastard.” Grif said, almost a proud smirk spread across his face. “I cannot believe you figured out a way to be that goddamn manipulative! Y-you’re tied to a tree.” He said, scoffing, he rubbed his head, a bit confused but mostly astounded. “That’s quite a talent, Church… But that’s not the game we’re playing here.” He said, bringing his face in once more, their lips just barely touching. “These are my rules.” His tongue deliberately grazed against Church’s lips (Church sighed heavily, barely suppressing a whimper). Grif pulled away suddenly and even more unexpectedly stood up.
He looked down at Church, a wanton desire still fully expressed in his mouth, pity in his eyes. “You broke the rules…” He shrugged lightly as he spoke, “Now you’ll have to start all over.” Grif grabbed his helmet, clicked it back on, and slowly sauntered off; backward… So he could see Church’s reaction for as long as possible.
“Fuck.” Church whispered, once again bashing his head into the tree trunk. He’s weak… He can’t stay away for too long. Right?
Four hours later, it appeared that Church was not so right. He sat there, his back stiff (surprisingly enough, trees aren’t as comfortable as wooden chairs- go figure), jaw clenched in anger. He’d been tied to this tree for God only knows how long, and it now seemed that he may have killed his only chance at being freed (and getting laid). For four hours he sat there, staring at the sky in frustration.
Finally, Church saw a glimmer of orange armor in the sun. As Grif walked closer Church tried not to look at him, bit his lip, desperately fought to control the grin on his face. He failed; his lip was nearly bleeding so he just gave in. Smiling, staring… He looked like an idiot, but he couldn’t help it; he was ecstatic.
Moments later, Grif arrived at the tree. He looked down at Church through his visor, hands on his hips. “You’re going to play by the rules now, yes?”
Church looked up at him, pouting a bit. He sighed “Yeah.” He said flatly.
“Actually, it’s ‘Yes, I’ll behave, Mr. Grif.’” Grif said, smirking wildly behind his helmet. There was a pause, a look of utter disbelief on Church’s face. “If you’re not gonna say it…” Grif said, taking a step back and preparing to turn around. That was, until he heard a mumble from the other soldier. What he heard was something like “Myes, I’ll beherve, messre gruff.” But he still faced the other soldier once more.
“I’m sorry,” he said, preparing to savor this moment, “I didn’t quite catch that. Would you mind terribly repeating it for me?”
“Yes, I’ll behave, Mr. Grif.” Church said through gritted teeth.
“Well, with that kind of enthusiasm and positivity… I suppose I’ll stay.” Grif said, removing his helmet and placing it next to Church’s once more. He sat down opposite the bound man, careful to keep his distance this time.
Positivity? There’s no way that’s an actual word… Church thought to himself. Though the second Grif removed his helmet, he suddenly couldn’t care less. “That’s me, ya know, juuust a ray of fuckin’ sunshine.”
“Hey, don’t be such a smartass, alright?” He could feel how bitter Church was about him leaving before. “… I didn’t want to go. It was all your decision.” Oh yeah, that ought to make him feel better. Dumbass. “Shit. I- I didn’t mean… What I meant to say was… All you’ve got to do is cooperate.”
“Yeah, I got it. Thanks.” Church said a bit aggressively. He’s tripping up. And pitying you. This is perfect. Church tried to contain a smirk. Just… Keep with it. He’s about to fucking break.
“You’re bitchy. You’d better cut it out.” Grif said, with a half-glare half-smirk directed at Church.
“Uhh… you fuckin’ kidding me?! I’ve been tied to a tree for hours now, I’m hungry, I’m hot, my back hurts--”
“And you want me.” Grif said simply. Hearing that, Church simply rolled his eyes. He’d already kissed him- there was no point in denying it… So sarcastic eye rolls were all he could muster. “Oh, don’t gimme that. You would fuck me, let’s not lie here.”
“Heh, I didn’t say anything.” A smile played across Church’s lips… He bit his bottom lip softly, trying to tease Grif into untying him sooner.
Grif in turn, bit his lip in restraint. “D-don’t fucking do that…” He said quietly.
“Do what?” Church said innocently, continuing to bite his lip, a little more noticeably now.
Grif sighed heavily. “So… You want me to leave you tied to this tree. All hungry… And alone… And wanting.” His eyes roamed over the enemy soldier’s body as he spoke.
“What? N-no!” Church said, caught by surprise at Grif’s determination. Fuck… He’s getting to me.
Grif moved in closer to Church, once again, their lips were nearly meeting, “No, what?” he said, more aggressively than he had spoken before.
“No, Mr. Grif.” Church said, wanting to move closer, to feel Grif’s lips on his once more; but he knew that only frustration would come of it. He hoped Grif would be unable to resist the desperation on his face.
“That’s fucking right.” Grif said, smirking madly now, as he inched his head closer, their lips met in a wanton, frenzied embrace. Church unsuccessfully tried to stifle a moan as the younger, free man nibbled on his lip.
“Mmn… Dex, I- oh, God… Untie me.” Church said as Grif’s mouth moved down to his neck.
“Don’t… Tell me what to do.” Grif said, “This isn’t your decision.” Uuugh… Now what?! I don’t have access to anything below the neck. But I can’t have him thinking that he’s getting what he wants. Balls. He stood up, reveling in the concern Church had on his face, knowing he was on the brink of some pathetic apology; but Grif didn’t want to make him do that. “Calm down…” Grif said, glancing over to Blood Gulch Outpost Alpha. “None of your guys are in there, right? So I could go in there, get you some food and not get shot? Because that would be really great.”
“Yep, you won’t die or anything. Caboose said something about some… Mini-quest? Or a mitten or something. I dunno, he kept calling himself Morphumax.” He shrugged (it was a bit subdued, obviously). “But yeah, they’re gone.”
“’Kay, good.” Grif said, walking toward the base. He paused, turning back to Church. “I’m coming back.” He said reassuringly, adding a slight nod of the head for reinforcement.
Church smiled as he watched the other man turn the corner, heading into the base. He sighed, having long decided to resign himself to whatever was to come. I’ll let him think he’s in charge. Church thought, now trying to rationalize being dominated. No matter how much the thought of being pushed around by that little dumbass turned him on. Even though the idea of Grif pushing him up against a wall and-Shit. Nononono… Big, dumb cock, NO.
Church groaned, Uhm… Fuck… Okay, gotta get it down, gotta… “Oooh God…” he said, annoyed. His dick strained against the codpiece of his armor, he reminisced about being in that pink guy’s armor that one time (body, actually)… God, it was roomy. Okayokay… Well, there was the one time Tex went down on me… He winced at the memory. Dumb bitch… There’s pretty much one rule; don’t use your goddamn teeth! And how dare she make fun of me when I teared up after? It goddamn hurt! Stupid whore- Oh, thank God.
Crisis averted. If there was anything in this universe that could kill Church’s erection (at lightning speed too); it was that. …That was until Grif came into view once more; with food in his hand (well, it was a chocolate bar, but food nonetheless). As the soldier approached the tree, everything clicked. He’s going to fuckin’ feed me… This is not going to be good. Dammit, penis… Looks like you win this time.
“Candy is food, right?” Grif said, completely unfazed by the all too familiar look on Church’s face. He’s totally hard right now… Stay calm, and tease the fuck out of him. Grif unwrapped the bar, breaking off a piece and popping it playfully into his mouth. He smiled. “Relax. You’ll get yours.” He laughed, knowing exactly what was to come.
Grif fumbled peeling the bits of paper off the chocolate. “Damn…” He muttered. “This fucking armor is really just not makin’ this easy.” Before Church could say anything, Grif’s armor fell to the ground next to him and Grif once again took his place directly in front of him.
He sat there, his tan skin shining in the sun, he wore only a plain white wifebeater, still armor-clad from the waist down. Church’s mouth sat slack, open just slightly for a moment. Grif wasn’t nearly as out of shape as Church had imagined. True, he lacked definition; it wasn’t exactly a washboard stomach, but it was something nice to look at. Church looked up at him (after what he hoped hadn’t been too long for ogling) “… Food?” He said, almost pathetically. Grif glared at him for a split second, however Church responded so quickly, Grif felt it may have been unnecessary. “I mean… Can I have some food, Mr. Grif?”
Grif laughed He’s actually doing it… This is insane, and kinda creepy. I like it. “Yes, I’ll give you some damn food.” Grif said as he pulled the wrapper back a bit further, breaking off another square and slowly bringing it to Church’s lips. He anticlimactically dropped the chocolate into the helpless soldiers open mouth and brought his hand back down to his side. “I don’t want to make this creepy, I just want to make you less hungry.”
“I really appreciate that.” Now untie me and let’s get on with the sexin’! His head screamed (so did another part of his anatomy). … I can’t even believe I just thought that. I blame YOU… Shut up, penis. Shush. Church sighed happily. Even that bit of chocolate made everything that much better… Not that anything was particularly bad to begin with.
Church shifted uncomfortably, subtly gritting his teeth, trying in vain to adjust the situation he had going on beneath his codpiece. He groaned quietly, pain stretched across his face as the head of his cock brushed roughly against his armor. Grif looked at him; puzzled.
“… You alright?” Grif said, confused. There was a sense of true caring in his voice that Church just didn’t expect. Almost instinctively, Grif placed a consoling, ungloved hand on Church’s shoulder; his thumb gently rubbed the other man’s neck. Grif’s sweetness didn’t help much at all. The concern in his voice had made the ache even worse. Church grimaced again as his cock twitched at the sympathy (not to mention touch) from the younger man.
“I’m… fine…” Church said through gritted teeth. I need… an excuse. “Well, ya see… I have a huge fucking hard on right now. And these suits aren’t all that free and loose.” Isn’t gonna cut it. He can’t know. He already has the upper-hand, Church. Don’t fuck this up. “I-it’s just…” He began, trying to relax a little, even though every circle of Grif’s thumb complicated things and clouded Church’s thought process. “My shoulders are cramping from being tied up this long. And I can’t feel my legs anymore. The ropes are kinda fucking tight.” He said, managing a feat of level headedness that could only be described as Oscar worthy, under the circumstances.
Grif sighed heavily, scratching the back of his head. He wrapped his fingers against Church’s armor, deep in thought. “Well...” he began, “You’re no good to me all cramped and achey.” With that, Grif stood up, walking around to the back of the tree. Church heard his armor clank as he bent down. “… Untying you doesn’t mean we’re even close to finished, you understand?”
“Yes, Mr. Grif…” Church said, smiling wildly. He couldn’t wait to A) adjust his hard on, B) Stretch his goddamn arms and C)-
“There.” Grif said definitively as he cut through the ropes. However, he held the ropes tight around the “enemy” soldier, slinking around to the front on his knees. Grif pressed his bare chest against that of the armored man, bringing his mouth yet again to Church’s ear. “Don’t do anything stupid, okay?”
Church struggled to control his ragged breathing, tripping over his words. (The Boner Syndrome- a medical issue that runs rampant in twelve-year-old boys.) “S…S-stupid is your job, red.” Church said, managing a playful smile. “Now, can you get off me… So I can stretch out and fi- Fix my shoulders?” Way to go, dumbfuck. You’re really unbelievable. What’re you, twelve!?
“Ohyeahshitsorry…” Grif said, standing and waiting, a hand outstretched to help him up- that is when he was ready.
Church groaned in mock joint pain (his limbs were doing surprisingly well for being in that position for so long). He very slowly scissored his outstretched legs (these groans were more genuine pain… mixed with a sort of electric fear of moaning) ingeniously, he bent down, hands still outstretched and touched his toes (well, as close as he could get in the armor). Then, placing his hand on his inner thigh he was finally able to get some relief to his still raging erection; all while appearing to be cracking his back. Look… I’m smarter than you. So listen to me… Get. The fuck. Down. Church thought, willing his erection to cease. Ever perpetuating Church’s God/Badass complex, the bulge subsided. He smiled, overly happy for someone who had just lost an erection of steel.
“Hey. Get up.” Grif said, his left hand placed firmly on his hip, right hand still outstretched in charity. “That’s an order.” Grif said smirking. Church rolled his eyes in a kind of sarcastic but pleased way and extended his still-gloved hand to the bare hand of his “captor.” As Grif helped the slightly shorter man up, he suavely reached his left arm out to unclasp Church’s chest piece. Before Church even knew what had hit him, he heard a metallic clatter against the ground. Grif stepped in closer, licking his lips through a grin as he pulled off the remains of Church’s armor and gloves, leaving the two of them exposed to the elements from the waist up.
Church groaned softly as that dull ache in his dick started up again. Grif moved closer, his hands resting firmly on Church’s hips, pulling him closer. The two were now touching toe to toe, groin to groin, and chest to chest. The orange soldier brought his mouth to the completely stunned mouth of his new toy. “Fag.” He said, in a seductively cynical tone as he parted his lips and kissed Church fervently, on hand slithering up and down his sides under his plain white t-shirt, sending chills down the shorter mans spine. Church argued with himself while wrapping his tongue around Grif’s; his hands too roaming over the other soldier’s body. Stay subtle, man… Don’t let him know you’re the manipulative one until it’s way too late.
Church moaned quietly as he gently pushed the other man away. “So…” He said casually, both of his hands still firmly planted on the other man’s hips, “we gonna stay out in the open like this all day? I think inside is a better plan.” His eyes looked toward the base and then back into Grif’s, waiting for an answer.
In response, Grif pushed the shorter soldier’s arms off of his torso, grabbing a wrist in the process. “I guess we could go inside…” he said slyly, leading the other man by the arm toward the base. Without warning, Grif pulled the other man by the wrist, snapping him around so that they were face to face once again. “But-” he spoke again, moving his hands to Church’s shoulders and slamming him into the wall that separated Blue Base from the elements with almost lightning speed “-you don’t make the rules.”
Fuck.
Their lips met again, however this time it was not so much a kiss as it was a power struggle. What was occurring was the violent, borderline dangerous, battle between two strong-willed and scheniving men. Church tried to push the other man off and against the wall. He had to turn this around… there was no way Grif was going to get the better of him. Church pushed on the younger man’s hips and was just about to flip everything, that was until Grif pulled his mouth away from Church’s slowly, taking the time to suck on the enemy soldier’s bottom lip before bringing his head down to his neck, nipping at him lightly.
Church groaned softly as his hands dropped to his sides. He was pushed back into the wall, this time with more force; knees weakened as the other man continued nipping and sucking at the nape of his neck. “D-Dex please…” Church pleaded. I can’t even believe he got me. Fucker! “Oh God, please!” Asshole. You’re such a dick, Church. You can’t even manage to fight off the advances of this dumbass. You suck… Hard.
“Please what? I want to hear specifics.” The incredibly smug, dominant man said, taking pauses between a few words to taste Church’s shoulder, or neck, or tongue.
“I-… I…” Church struggled with the words. He didn’t want to say it, but he knew it was over with. No more fighting. He lost. This battle was finished. He continued to trip over the scrap of pride he had left, “I’ll say what… whatever you want.” Suddenly, Church could feel Grif shift against him in anticipation.
Grif let out a quiet moan, right into Church’s ear. The two winced, Grif feeling a new sensation, pain and pleasure as his arousal grew. (To Church, the pain was all too familiar; he simply tried to push it out of his mind.) “Tell me you give up, completely. No more fighting. I want you to take off that shirt and wave it as a flag of surrender.”
Church exhaled sharply. He was sick of this game, he just wanted this. “You don’t… think that’s a little extreme?” he said through heavy breaths. “I mean… Not trying to be insubordinate or anything…” the smirking, cornered soldier said. At this point, Church raised both of his hands at head level against the wall, smirk growing a bit as he quickly moved his mouth up to Grif’s ear. “I’m not going to fight you.” He said, as calmly as he could manage, though his breath was still ragged. He could feel Grif shift against him, moaning almost silently. “I want you so bad, Dex.” With that, Church gently bit Grif’s earlobe, and the game had finally ended.
Grif smiled almost evilly and seized Church’s hands by the wrists, pinning him once more. He chuckled a bit before leaning back in so the pairs lips were touching ever-so-slightly, “You’ll never beat me… But at least you’ve stopped trying.” He said before initiating another fevered kiss. As the two moaned and desperately tried to increase contact, neither could care less about the possibility of being caught. The Red soldier dropped his hands and placed them on Church’s hips (there was no worries about Church escaping, and even if there were, Grif had him by the mouth) and with two clicks, what remained of the losing man’s armor fell to the dirt.
Church quickly mirrored Grif’s movements, more clicks, another clatter. There the two stood, kissing, moaning and groping in boxers color-coded to their respective shades of armor. Church clawed violently at the bottom seam of Grif’s shirt, grasping it tightly and pulling it off of him. He broke the kiss for a moment, smirking wildly while waving the shirt in the air playfully; and threw the shirt to the side as the two embraced again. Church barely had time to react to Grif’s lighting quick movements before his shirt was on the ground.
Both men stood embracing, nearly naked, fully and obviously aroused. Grif was the one who would pull out of the kiss this time. He bit his lip lightly, examining Church’s body slowly (lingering a bit below the waste), he chuckled a bit “Nerd.” He said, glancing at Church’s armor on the floor and back to his boxers.
“What? Oh, fuck you, man… Yours match too!”
“Fuck me? Heh, you’re forgetting… That’s not how this is going to go.” Grif moved in again, the pairs’ lips crashed together, tongues mingling once more. Grif moaned audibly through the kiss, wrapping his tongue around the other mans’ greedily. He slowly brought his hand down to Church’s member, pulling and stroking. Slowly. Unbearably slowly.
Church turned his head, gasping for breath at the other mans’ touch. “F… Faster Dex, please.” He pleaded with him, trying to move his hips in such a way to speed up Grif’s movements. Grif sucked at his neck greedily and continued the slow regimented stroking of Church’s cock. “Ohhh, fuck, Grif. T-this isn’t fair.” He said, stuttering through the complete mind-numbing pleasure he was experiencing. Grif finally obliged, his pace quickened as he reached his hand through the front of his shorts, Church gritted his teeth, trying not to lose it right then with the skin-on-skin contact. Church gasped loudly, throwing his head back against the wall. “Ungh… Harder.” He groaned, feeling a tingle that told him it wouldn’t be long now.
Grif brought his head back up to Church’s ear as he worked his member just as Church desired. “I guess you win, after all.” He said, tongue lightly toying with the other’s earlobe, he moaned quietly in Church’s ear, feeling his cock twitch in his hand. He laughed wryly as Church’s whole body bucked. Grif slid his hand up Church’s shaft and slowly rubbed his thumb against his slit. This was all it took to send Church over the edge. He came sharply, screaming Grif’s name through the canyon, a scream that was only muffled when the two’s lips met aggressively. The two kissed as Church’s moans began to subside. Grif pulled away, allowing the Blue to catch his breath and clear his head while he grabbed Church’s shirt, wiping his hand off unceremoniously.
“That’s my shirt.” Church said, a bit surprised.
“Yeah? And that was supposed to be my handjob. Cunning bastard.” Grif shot back, grinning wildly.
“Like you ever stood a chance, dumbass.” Church said, in turn taking Grif’s shirt and using it to clean himself up.
“Oh, nice!” Grif exclaimed. “Asshole.”
“Fucktard.”
“Cockbite.”
“Dipshit.”
“… I’ll see you around, Blue. I’m still very much owed gratification.” Grif said, scratching his head a bit and beginning to gather up his armor. “So don’t you fucking forget all I’ve done for you.”
“Like you’ll be able to stay away.” Church said quietly as he nonchalantly leaned against the wall, watching Grif struggle with carrying all of his armor. “Y-you’re really gonna walk back to base like that?!”
Grif shrugged. “Fuck if I care…” He said candidly. “It’s not like they give a shit what I do anyway.”
“Watch out on your way back, ya Red bastard. Never know when you might get sniped.” Church said, smiling.
Grif rolled his eyes as, turning as walking away. Church stood against the base, watching him leave for a few minutes. About five minutes passed when he heard a smug voice from across the canyon. “Like you could hit me, you fucking blue bitch!”
Church laughed a bit as he began putting his armor back on, following the trail of metal back to his tree. He was fully re-dressed (sans shirt) as he reached for his helmet.
-Kkrchtt! “Church? Church… Come on, man, don’t be like this. Look, fucking come in, please! Fuck, well whatever. Look, man… I’m really sorry about this whole thing, i-it was a dumb goddamn joke and… Fuck-look, Caboose and I are going to be gone for at least the next day… I… You’re going to beat the shit out of me when I get back, huh? Fuck. Ugh… Private Tucker, over & out.”-
… Maybe Grif would get his sooner than he thought.
“Nothin’, Church.” Tucker replied (Church could hear him suppressing laughter.) “Look, man.” Church scoffed, “I’m gonna fucking kill you if you don’t untie me RIGHT now!” The cobalt soldier pivoted his head, staring up at the tree, he groaned in annoyance and rage.
“Un… Untie you?” Tucker said, an obvious faux innocence in his voice. “I simply don’t know what you could be talking about!”
“You know what? …You’re fuckin’ dead.” With that, Church turned his radio off, banging his head against the tree trunk. Goddammit… Church was surprisingly docile for being tied to a tree. He sat there, for a while, not struggling, screaming or anything; just not too fucking happy. However, he was still Church (translation: lazy), so he hung around, daydreaming about kicking Tucker’s ass the second he was within reach. The heat was getting to him a little, it was humid; but being in the shade, Church simply dozed off.
He awoke later (how much later was anybody’s guess) to a swift kick in the head. “Goddammit!” he yelled, looking up at the source of the blow.
“Well, well, well… If it isn’t my old cellmate! How’s life on the outside treati-Oh! Oh my… You seem to be tied up there-”
“Shut the fuck up and untie me, Grif.” Church said, sneering through his helmet. He glared at the enemy soldier as he removed his helmet. “What the…” he muttered, glare slowly turning into a furrowed brow of intense confusion as Grif moved to remove his helmet.
“Untie you?” Grif said, lowering his own face to Church’s, staring into his burning blue eyes. “Now why would I do that?” A wicked grin crept across his face. The private smirked, now kneeling to be on the same level as Church. “I’m gonna have fun with this…” He muttered, looking away momentarily. His eyes faced Church once again, giving him an almost painfully slow once over before making eye contact once more. “Just… Close your eyes.”
“Do what?! Heh, you’re fuckin’ insane, buddy.” Church said, rolling his eyes in frustration. He looked back to Grif, “Just… Untie me, alright?” He said quietly and with pleading eyes. The sun was rising, afternoon heat creeping through the canyon. He was hot and growing sicker of this by the second. To anyone who knew Church, it would be very difficult to describe the emotion he was portraying, it wasn’t something he himself portrayed often; those were the words of a mentally broken man.
Grif of all people couldn’t see whether Church was being genuine or not, and since it was Church, he’d just as quickly assume he was messing with him. Church doesn’t show weakness… He’s got an angle here, and I’ll be damned if his ends and means come before mine. “Look, blue guy… If you’re not going to cooperate, you’re just gonna stay here… All… tied up and vulnerable.” Grif said, biting his lip slightly while imagineing exactly how he could use this to his advantage.
Church lashed out immediately “Hey, fuck you. I am NEVER vulnerable!” He was desperately trying to regain his composure, he wasn’t about to let Grif do… Well, anything he was (quite obviously) intending to do.
… Not unless he could have a level of control that was quite unobtainable when bound to a tree.
“If you’re not going to cooperate,” Grif said again, this time with less subtle airs of seduction, “you’re never going to get what you want.”
“Well, if cooperating means allowing you to fondle, rape, or molest me… You might as well just leave.” Church said, his eyes held a mixed bag of frustration, unwillingness, and reluctant compliance; all at once.
Grif leaned in close to him, moving his head over to whisper in Church’s ear, his cheek lightly grazed the bound man’s stubble. “You can’t rape the willing.” He murmured.
Church’s eyes rolled back in his head, feeling the orange soldier’s face brushed against his, the breath on his ear. So yes, he wanted this. Desperately. “Grif…” he said softly, at this Grif pulled back, again eye to eye with the other man; he awaited the rest of this sentence. “I… really want you… To untie me right GODDAMN now!” No matter how much he may have been willing, Church just would not let himself be that vulnerable. He preferred to dominate, not be pushed around. That was what he thought, at least.
“Hey, buddy… You’re not exactly in any position to be pushing me around right now, ‘kay?” Grif scoffed at him. Who the fuck did he think he was? Tied to a fuckin’ tree… And he’s STILL trying to be the boss?! Maybe he’s even more of an asshole than I thought. I like that. He knew Church would be resistant… But Grif was starting to lose his patience.
Grif leaned in close to the other man once more; they were nose-to-nose now. “I figured you’d be more pliant than this… ” He said disappointedly, looking to Church with sadness in his eyes. Even though Church knew it was simply a ploy to further manipulate him; Grif’s eyes still burrowed right through him.
Maybe it was… The proximity, the heat? The… the fact that he was tied to a tree? He just couldn’t rationalize it any more (so why was he still trying so hard?). Fuck it… I need to be untied. This would be Church’s final rationalization before he finally gave in to what he felt. “No need to be pouty…” He said simply as he turned his head, lips parted and leaned in, delivering a kiss as aggressive as it could possibly be when you’re restrained from the shoulders down.
Church could feel Grif’s hand on the back of his neck; chills went down his spine as the orange soldier began playing with his hair. Slowly, almost tauntingly Church began sliding his tongue into Grif’s mouth; as he did this, Grif’s grip on his hair tightened, he pulled the bound soldier closer. The fervor of the embrace grew until suddenly, Grif paused.
“Mmnhm…” Grif mumbled, his hand moving from Church’s neck to his chest as he pushed him back against the tree; breaking the kiss. “… You deceptive bastard.” Grif said, almost a proud smirk spread across his face. “I cannot believe you figured out a way to be that goddamn manipulative! Y-you’re tied to a tree.” He said, scoffing, he rubbed his head, a bit confused but mostly astounded. “That’s quite a talent, Church… But that’s not the game we’re playing here.” He said, bringing his face in once more, their lips just barely touching. “These are my rules.” His tongue deliberately grazed against Church’s lips (Church sighed heavily, barely suppressing a whimper). Grif pulled away suddenly and even more unexpectedly stood up.
He looked down at Church, a wanton desire still fully expressed in his mouth, pity in his eyes. “You broke the rules…” He shrugged lightly as he spoke, “Now you’ll have to start all over.” Grif grabbed his helmet, clicked it back on, and slowly sauntered off; backward… So he could see Church’s reaction for as long as possible.
“Fuck.” Church whispered, once again bashing his head into the tree trunk. He’s weak… He can’t stay away for too long. Right?
Four hours later, it appeared that Church was not so right. He sat there, his back stiff (surprisingly enough, trees aren’t as comfortable as wooden chairs- go figure), jaw clenched in anger. He’d been tied to this tree for God only knows how long, and it now seemed that he may have killed his only chance at being freed (and getting laid). For four hours he sat there, staring at the sky in frustration.
Finally, Church saw a glimmer of orange armor in the sun. As Grif walked closer Church tried not to look at him, bit his lip, desperately fought to control the grin on his face. He failed; his lip was nearly bleeding so he just gave in. Smiling, staring… He looked like an idiot, but he couldn’t help it; he was ecstatic.
Moments later, Grif arrived at the tree. He looked down at Church through his visor, hands on his hips. “You’re going to play by the rules now, yes?”
Church looked up at him, pouting a bit. He sighed “Yeah.” He said flatly.
“Actually, it’s ‘Yes, I’ll behave, Mr. Grif.’” Grif said, smirking wildly behind his helmet. There was a pause, a look of utter disbelief on Church’s face. “If you’re not gonna say it…” Grif said, taking a step back and preparing to turn around. That was, until he heard a mumble from the other soldier. What he heard was something like “Myes, I’ll beherve, messre gruff.” But he still faced the other soldier once more.
“I’m sorry,” he said, preparing to savor this moment, “I didn’t quite catch that. Would you mind terribly repeating it for me?”
“Yes, I’ll behave, Mr. Grif.” Church said through gritted teeth.
“Well, with that kind of enthusiasm and positivity… I suppose I’ll stay.” Grif said, removing his helmet and placing it next to Church’s once more. He sat down opposite the bound man, careful to keep his distance this time.
Positivity? There’s no way that’s an actual word… Church thought to himself. Though the second Grif removed his helmet, he suddenly couldn’t care less. “That’s me, ya know, juuust a ray of fuckin’ sunshine.”
“Hey, don’t be such a smartass, alright?” He could feel how bitter Church was about him leaving before. “… I didn’t want to go. It was all your decision.” Oh yeah, that ought to make him feel better. Dumbass. “Shit. I- I didn’t mean… What I meant to say was… All you’ve got to do is cooperate.”
“Yeah, I got it. Thanks.” Church said a bit aggressively. He’s tripping up. And pitying you. This is perfect. Church tried to contain a smirk. Just… Keep with it. He’s about to fucking break.
“You’re bitchy. You’d better cut it out.” Grif said, with a half-glare half-smirk directed at Church.
“Uhh… you fuckin’ kidding me?! I’ve been tied to a tree for hours now, I’m hungry, I’m hot, my back hurts--”
“And you want me.” Grif said simply. Hearing that, Church simply rolled his eyes. He’d already kissed him- there was no point in denying it… So sarcastic eye rolls were all he could muster. “Oh, don’t gimme that. You would fuck me, let’s not lie here.”
“Heh, I didn’t say anything.” A smile played across Church’s lips… He bit his bottom lip softly, trying to tease Grif into untying him sooner.
Grif in turn, bit his lip in restraint. “D-don’t fucking do that…” He said quietly.
“Do what?” Church said innocently, continuing to bite his lip, a little more noticeably now.
Grif sighed heavily. “So… You want me to leave you tied to this tree. All hungry… And alone… And wanting.” His eyes roamed over the enemy soldier’s body as he spoke.
“What? N-no!” Church said, caught by surprise at Grif’s determination. Fuck… He’s getting to me.
Grif moved in closer to Church, once again, their lips were nearly meeting, “No, what?” he said, more aggressively than he had spoken before.
“No, Mr. Grif.” Church said, wanting to move closer, to feel Grif’s lips on his once more; but he knew that only frustration would come of it. He hoped Grif would be unable to resist the desperation on his face.
“That’s fucking right.” Grif said, smirking madly now, as he inched his head closer, their lips met in a wanton, frenzied embrace. Church unsuccessfully tried to stifle a moan as the younger, free man nibbled on his lip.
“Mmn… Dex, I- oh, God… Untie me.” Church said as Grif’s mouth moved down to his neck.
“Don’t… Tell me what to do.” Grif said, “This isn’t your decision.” Uuugh… Now what?! I don’t have access to anything below the neck. But I can’t have him thinking that he’s getting what he wants. Balls. He stood up, reveling in the concern Church had on his face, knowing he was on the brink of some pathetic apology; but Grif didn’t want to make him do that. “Calm down…” Grif said, glancing over to Blood Gulch Outpost Alpha. “None of your guys are in there, right? So I could go in there, get you some food and not get shot? Because that would be really great.”
“Yep, you won’t die or anything. Caboose said something about some… Mini-quest? Or a mitten or something. I dunno, he kept calling himself Morphumax.” He shrugged (it was a bit subdued, obviously). “But yeah, they’re gone.”
“’Kay, good.” Grif said, walking toward the base. He paused, turning back to Church. “I’m coming back.” He said reassuringly, adding a slight nod of the head for reinforcement.
Church smiled as he watched the other man turn the corner, heading into the base. He sighed, having long decided to resign himself to whatever was to come. I’ll let him think he’s in charge. Church thought, now trying to rationalize being dominated. No matter how much the thought of being pushed around by that little dumbass turned him on. Even though the idea of Grif pushing him up against a wall and-Shit. Nononono… Big, dumb cock, NO.
Church groaned, Uhm… Fuck… Okay, gotta get it down, gotta… “Oooh God…” he said, annoyed. His dick strained against the codpiece of his armor, he reminisced about being in that pink guy’s armor that one time (body, actually)… God, it was roomy. Okayokay… Well, there was the one time Tex went down on me… He winced at the memory. Dumb bitch… There’s pretty much one rule; don’t use your goddamn teeth! And how dare she make fun of me when I teared up after? It goddamn hurt! Stupid whore- Oh, thank God.
Crisis averted. If there was anything in this universe that could kill Church’s erection (at lightning speed too); it was that. …That was until Grif came into view once more; with food in his hand (well, it was a chocolate bar, but food nonetheless). As the soldier approached the tree, everything clicked. He’s going to fuckin’ feed me… This is not going to be good. Dammit, penis… Looks like you win this time.
“Candy is food, right?” Grif said, completely unfazed by the all too familiar look on Church’s face. He’s totally hard right now… Stay calm, and tease the fuck out of him. Grif unwrapped the bar, breaking off a piece and popping it playfully into his mouth. He smiled. “Relax. You’ll get yours.” He laughed, knowing exactly what was to come.
Grif fumbled peeling the bits of paper off the chocolate. “Damn…” He muttered. “This fucking armor is really just not makin’ this easy.” Before Church could say anything, Grif’s armor fell to the ground next to him and Grif once again took his place directly in front of him.
He sat there, his tan skin shining in the sun, he wore only a plain white wifebeater, still armor-clad from the waist down. Church’s mouth sat slack, open just slightly for a moment. Grif wasn’t nearly as out of shape as Church had imagined. True, he lacked definition; it wasn’t exactly a washboard stomach, but it was something nice to look at. Church looked up at him (after what he hoped hadn’t been too long for ogling) “… Food?” He said, almost pathetically. Grif glared at him for a split second, however Church responded so quickly, Grif felt it may have been unnecessary. “I mean… Can I have some food, Mr. Grif?”
Grif laughed He’s actually doing it… This is insane, and kinda creepy. I like it. “Yes, I’ll give you some damn food.” Grif said as he pulled the wrapper back a bit further, breaking off another square and slowly bringing it to Church’s lips. He anticlimactically dropped the chocolate into the helpless soldiers open mouth and brought his hand back down to his side. “I don’t want to make this creepy, I just want to make you less hungry.”
“I really appreciate that.” Now untie me and let’s get on with the sexin’! His head screamed (so did another part of his anatomy). … I can’t even believe I just thought that. I blame YOU… Shut up, penis. Shush. Church sighed happily. Even that bit of chocolate made everything that much better… Not that anything was particularly bad to begin with.
Church shifted uncomfortably, subtly gritting his teeth, trying in vain to adjust the situation he had going on beneath his codpiece. He groaned quietly, pain stretched across his face as the head of his cock brushed roughly against his armor. Grif looked at him; puzzled.
“… You alright?” Grif said, confused. There was a sense of true caring in his voice that Church just didn’t expect. Almost instinctively, Grif placed a consoling, ungloved hand on Church’s shoulder; his thumb gently rubbed the other man’s neck. Grif’s sweetness didn’t help much at all. The concern in his voice had made the ache even worse. Church grimaced again as his cock twitched at the sympathy (not to mention touch) from the younger man.
“I’m… fine…” Church said through gritted teeth. I need… an excuse. “Well, ya see… I have a huge fucking hard on right now. And these suits aren’t all that free and loose.” Isn’t gonna cut it. He can’t know. He already has the upper-hand, Church. Don’t fuck this up. “I-it’s just…” He began, trying to relax a little, even though every circle of Grif’s thumb complicated things and clouded Church’s thought process. “My shoulders are cramping from being tied up this long. And I can’t feel my legs anymore. The ropes are kinda fucking tight.” He said, managing a feat of level headedness that could only be described as Oscar worthy, under the circumstances.
Grif sighed heavily, scratching the back of his head. He wrapped his fingers against Church’s armor, deep in thought. “Well...” he began, “You’re no good to me all cramped and achey.” With that, Grif stood up, walking around to the back of the tree. Church heard his armor clank as he bent down. “… Untying you doesn’t mean we’re even close to finished, you understand?”
“Yes, Mr. Grif…” Church said, smiling wildly. He couldn’t wait to A) adjust his hard on, B) Stretch his goddamn arms and C)-
“There.” Grif said definitively as he cut through the ropes. However, he held the ropes tight around the “enemy” soldier, slinking around to the front on his knees. Grif pressed his bare chest against that of the armored man, bringing his mouth yet again to Church’s ear. “Don’t do anything stupid, okay?”
Church struggled to control his ragged breathing, tripping over his words. (The Boner Syndrome- a medical issue that runs rampant in twelve-year-old boys.) “S…S-stupid is your job, red.” Church said, managing a playful smile. “Now, can you get off me… So I can stretch out and fi- Fix my shoulders?” Way to go, dumbfuck. You’re really unbelievable. What’re you, twelve!?
“Ohyeahshitsorry…” Grif said, standing and waiting, a hand outstretched to help him up- that is when he was ready.
Church groaned in mock joint pain (his limbs were doing surprisingly well for being in that position for so long). He very slowly scissored his outstretched legs (these groans were more genuine pain… mixed with a sort of electric fear of moaning) ingeniously, he bent down, hands still outstretched and touched his toes (well, as close as he could get in the armor). Then, placing his hand on his inner thigh he was finally able to get some relief to his still raging erection; all while appearing to be cracking his back. Look… I’m smarter than you. So listen to me… Get. The fuck. Down. Church thought, willing his erection to cease. Ever perpetuating Church’s God/Badass complex, the bulge subsided. He smiled, overly happy for someone who had just lost an erection of steel.
“Hey. Get up.” Grif said, his left hand placed firmly on his hip, right hand still outstretched in charity. “That’s an order.” Grif said smirking. Church rolled his eyes in a kind of sarcastic but pleased way and extended his still-gloved hand to the bare hand of his “captor.” As Grif helped the slightly shorter man up, he suavely reached his left arm out to unclasp Church’s chest piece. Before Church even knew what had hit him, he heard a metallic clatter against the ground. Grif stepped in closer, licking his lips through a grin as he pulled off the remains of Church’s armor and gloves, leaving the two of them exposed to the elements from the waist up.
Church groaned softly as that dull ache in his dick started up again. Grif moved closer, his hands resting firmly on Church’s hips, pulling him closer. The two were now touching toe to toe, groin to groin, and chest to chest. The orange soldier brought his mouth to the completely stunned mouth of his new toy. “Fag.” He said, in a seductively cynical tone as he parted his lips and kissed Church fervently, on hand slithering up and down his sides under his plain white t-shirt, sending chills down the shorter mans spine. Church argued with himself while wrapping his tongue around Grif’s; his hands too roaming over the other soldier’s body. Stay subtle, man… Don’t let him know you’re the manipulative one until it’s way too late.
Church moaned quietly as he gently pushed the other man away. “So…” He said casually, both of his hands still firmly planted on the other man’s hips, “we gonna stay out in the open like this all day? I think inside is a better plan.” His eyes looked toward the base and then back into Grif’s, waiting for an answer.
In response, Grif pushed the shorter soldier’s arms off of his torso, grabbing a wrist in the process. “I guess we could go inside…” he said slyly, leading the other man by the arm toward the base. Without warning, Grif pulled the other man by the wrist, snapping him around so that they were face to face once again. “But-” he spoke again, moving his hands to Church’s shoulders and slamming him into the wall that separated Blue Base from the elements with almost lightning speed “-you don’t make the rules.”
Fuck.
Their lips met again, however this time it was not so much a kiss as it was a power struggle. What was occurring was the violent, borderline dangerous, battle between two strong-willed and scheniving men. Church tried to push the other man off and against the wall. He had to turn this around… there was no way Grif was going to get the better of him. Church pushed on the younger man’s hips and was just about to flip everything, that was until Grif pulled his mouth away from Church’s slowly, taking the time to suck on the enemy soldier’s bottom lip before bringing his head down to his neck, nipping at him lightly.
Church groaned softly as his hands dropped to his sides. He was pushed back into the wall, this time with more force; knees weakened as the other man continued nipping and sucking at the nape of his neck. “D-Dex please…” Church pleaded. I can’t even believe he got me. Fucker! “Oh God, please!” Asshole. You’re such a dick, Church. You can’t even manage to fight off the advances of this dumbass. You suck… Hard.
“Please what? I want to hear specifics.” The incredibly smug, dominant man said, taking pauses between a few words to taste Church’s shoulder, or neck, or tongue.
“I-… I…” Church struggled with the words. He didn’t want to say it, but he knew it was over with. No more fighting. He lost. This battle was finished. He continued to trip over the scrap of pride he had left, “I’ll say what… whatever you want.” Suddenly, Church could feel Grif shift against him in anticipation.
Grif let out a quiet moan, right into Church’s ear. The two winced, Grif feeling a new sensation, pain and pleasure as his arousal grew. (To Church, the pain was all too familiar; he simply tried to push it out of his mind.) “Tell me you give up, completely. No more fighting. I want you to take off that shirt and wave it as a flag of surrender.”
Church exhaled sharply. He was sick of this game, he just wanted this. “You don’t… think that’s a little extreme?” he said through heavy breaths. “I mean… Not trying to be insubordinate or anything…” the smirking, cornered soldier said. At this point, Church raised both of his hands at head level against the wall, smirk growing a bit as he quickly moved his mouth up to Grif’s ear. “I’m not going to fight you.” He said, as calmly as he could manage, though his breath was still ragged. He could feel Grif shift against him, moaning almost silently. “I want you so bad, Dex.” With that, Church gently bit Grif’s earlobe, and the game had finally ended.
Grif smiled almost evilly and seized Church’s hands by the wrists, pinning him once more. He chuckled a bit before leaning back in so the pairs lips were touching ever-so-slightly, “You’ll never beat me… But at least you’ve stopped trying.” He said before initiating another fevered kiss. As the two moaned and desperately tried to increase contact, neither could care less about the possibility of being caught. The Red soldier dropped his hands and placed them on Church’s hips (there was no worries about Church escaping, and even if there were, Grif had him by the mouth) and with two clicks, what remained of the losing man’s armor fell to the dirt.
Church quickly mirrored Grif’s movements, more clicks, another clatter. There the two stood, kissing, moaning and groping in boxers color-coded to their respective shades of armor. Church clawed violently at the bottom seam of Grif’s shirt, grasping it tightly and pulling it off of him. He broke the kiss for a moment, smirking wildly while waving the shirt in the air playfully; and threw the shirt to the side as the two embraced again. Church barely had time to react to Grif’s lighting quick movements before his shirt was on the ground.
Both men stood embracing, nearly naked, fully and obviously aroused. Grif was the one who would pull out of the kiss this time. He bit his lip lightly, examining Church’s body slowly (lingering a bit below the waste), he chuckled a bit “Nerd.” He said, glancing at Church’s armor on the floor and back to his boxers.
“What? Oh, fuck you, man… Yours match too!”
“Fuck me? Heh, you’re forgetting… That’s not how this is going to go.” Grif moved in again, the pairs’ lips crashed together, tongues mingling once more. Grif moaned audibly through the kiss, wrapping his tongue around the other mans’ greedily. He slowly brought his hand down to Church’s member, pulling and stroking. Slowly. Unbearably slowly.
Church turned his head, gasping for breath at the other mans’ touch. “F… Faster Dex, please.” He pleaded with him, trying to move his hips in such a way to speed up Grif’s movements. Grif sucked at his neck greedily and continued the slow regimented stroking of Church’s cock. “Ohhh, fuck, Grif. T-this isn’t fair.” He said, stuttering through the complete mind-numbing pleasure he was experiencing. Grif finally obliged, his pace quickened as he reached his hand through the front of his shorts, Church gritted his teeth, trying not to lose it right then with the skin-on-skin contact. Church gasped loudly, throwing his head back against the wall. “Ungh… Harder.” He groaned, feeling a tingle that told him it wouldn’t be long now.
Grif brought his head back up to Church’s ear as he worked his member just as Church desired. “I guess you win, after all.” He said, tongue lightly toying with the other’s earlobe, he moaned quietly in Church’s ear, feeling his cock twitch in his hand. He laughed wryly as Church’s whole body bucked. Grif slid his hand up Church’s shaft and slowly rubbed his thumb against his slit. This was all it took to send Church over the edge. He came sharply, screaming Grif’s name through the canyon, a scream that was only muffled when the two’s lips met aggressively. The two kissed as Church’s moans began to subside. Grif pulled away, allowing the Blue to catch his breath and clear his head while he grabbed Church’s shirt, wiping his hand off unceremoniously.
“That’s my shirt.” Church said, a bit surprised.
“Yeah? And that was supposed to be my handjob. Cunning bastard.” Grif shot back, grinning wildly.
“Like you ever stood a chance, dumbass.” Church said, in turn taking Grif’s shirt and using it to clean himself up.
“Oh, nice!” Grif exclaimed. “Asshole.”
“Fucktard.”
“Cockbite.”
“Dipshit.”
“… I’ll see you around, Blue. I’m still very much owed gratification.” Grif said, scratching his head a bit and beginning to gather up his armor. “So don’t you fucking forget all I’ve done for you.”
“Like you’ll be able to stay away.” Church said quietly as he nonchalantly leaned against the wall, watching Grif struggle with carrying all of his armor. “Y-you’re really gonna walk back to base like that?!”
Grif shrugged. “Fuck if I care…” He said candidly. “It’s not like they give a shit what I do anyway.”
“Watch out on your way back, ya Red bastard. Never know when you might get sniped.” Church said, smiling.
Grif rolled his eyes as, turning as walking away. Church stood against the base, watching him leave for a few minutes. About five minutes passed when he heard a smug voice from across the canyon. “Like you could hit me, you fucking blue bitch!”
Church laughed a bit as he began putting his armor back on, following the trail of metal back to his tree. He was fully re-dressed (sans shirt) as he reached for his helmet.
-Kkrchtt! “Church? Church… Come on, man, don’t be like this. Look, fucking come in, please! Fuck, well whatever. Look, man… I’m really sorry about this whole thing, i-it was a dumb goddamn joke and… Fuck-look, Caboose and I are going to be gone for at least the next day… I… You’re going to beat the shit out of me when I get back, huh? Fuck. Ugh… Private Tucker, over & out.”-
… Maybe Grif would get his sooner than he thought.