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Salt & Stained Sheets

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Scout breathed in nothing but ocean air as the car rolled through dry heat, crests of salt, and darkness. The basin far away from the battleground held cricket noises and smothered them in dust. Spy shifted gears and the whine in the engine died to a low purr. As Spy turned off the headlights as they rumbled along, without any roads or city lights for miles, the moon and the stars were the brightest things around. Soon, Spy slowed down and downshifted with practiced gloved tugs until the dust fizzled in the air around them and nothing else moved at all.

“S’pretty,” Scout said. His eyes focused up and at the moon, but Spy’s hand slid away from the gearshift and toward Scout’s thigh. Scout’s glance dove from the moon above to the dark leather below. “Y’know?”

“I do.”

Spy took his hand away and Scout’s breath was taken away with it. Opening the door, Spy looked only briefly at the stars before he turned his attention to the ground. Scout unbuckled his seat belt and leaned over between the seats to see if he could see what Spy was looking at. When he couldn’t, Scout got out the passenger side door and stomped around to the other side with his fists shoved into his pockets. His teeth chattered in the wind.

“Whatcha lookin’ at?”

Spy got on his knees and Scout looked around wildly as if someone, somewhere, might be watching, but Spy bent down further to put his ear on the ground.

“Listen…”

“To the dirt?”

“The salt.”

Scout dug the ball of his foot into the salt, but that accidentally kicked up enough dust that Spy sat up, sputtering.

“Oh shit! Sorry.”

“Just come down.”

Spy pulled at the hem of Scout’s jacket until Scout was on his knees in front of Spy. On their knees, Scout was taller than Spy, but Spy’s hand reached up and grabbed a handful of Scout’s hair to push his head closer to the ground. Scout’s heart beat hard in his chest and the light stinging of his scalp as Spy tugged his hair felt too good. Worse still, Scout was not only near the ground but his eye line was directed toward the bulge in Spy’s pants as Spy sat back on his heels.

“Can you hear?”

“Hear what?”

Spy gripped Scout’s head tighter and pushed it all the way to the ground with a light growl.

Little whispers jumped up to reach Scout’s ears. Without the car, without movement, without anything at all, Scout could hear the salt crack all on its own.

“S’like Rice Krispies, dude!”

“… The breakfast cereal?”

“Snap, crackle, and pop, man!”

Spy let go of Scout, who stayed down low and put his hands in the salt to listen more. Spy stayed where he was and found a cigarette and his lighter in his pockets. Scout’s ears stayed glued to the cool little rocks, but his eyes were drawn once again to Spy’s tight pants.

The cigarette crackle joined the salt until another gust of wind ruffled them all.

“When it rains, the basin fills up, as you know, but because everything evaporates so quickly, it leaves the salt residue behind and makes new crystals. And the crests are formed from freezing and thawing of water in between evaporations—”

“Dude, can you shut up so I can hear the salt?”

Spy snorted. “You don’t want conversation?”

“Conversation’s fine, but you’re not a science teacher.” When only the crystals gave any retort, Scout backtracked. “It’s really cool, though… Y’think they’d ever let us fight on the flats?”

“I hope not,” Spy said as he shielded his cigarette from the wind and lit it again. “It’d be a shame to get blood all over everything. And it’ll all be underwater soon.”

Scout sat up and met Spy’s gaze. Spy met it as the cherry of his cigarette glowed. There wasn’t any silence between them with the earth crystalizing underneath them, but Scout broke it anyway as he plucked the cigarette out of Spy’s hands and held it aside. Scout crashed his mouth into Spy’s in a slobbery kiss. Spy grunted and held Scout’s chin to tame the kiss, and Scout tried to obey the little movements of Spy’s lips and the gentle caress of Spy’s tongue.

The kiss ended and Scout took a drag of the cigarette before he gave it back.

“Are you eager to go back?”

“Sorta,” Scout laughed. “This is cool and shit, but you owe me a date, and this is like… half of one.”

“What’s the other half?”

But Spy was grinning as he stood up and wiped the salt off his knees with his free hand.

“Oh, you’re never gonna guess.”

The drive back through the salt flats was a hurried one and Scout watched the stars stream as Spy raced through the salt back onto the makeshift roads and toward their base. The concrete sat between rocks carved out especially for death matches. The little bomb sat unattended to on its tracks and Scout held his breath as Spy zoomed right past it. It felt so close Scout could’ve stuck his tongue out and tasted fire and gunpowder, but the bomb sat in the cold and Scout and Spy made their way to Spy’s room.

All of them had very spare living arrangements. Their base was temporary even if their fights were forever, and if they bothered to put up a poster or a break out the entirety of their wardrobe it was a sign of defeat. But Spy had good sheets.

Scout started to undress as soon as Spy locked the door. The jacket came off first and the lime green hat was thrown to some corner of the room before Spy came from the door to cup Scout’s face in both his gloved hands. Scout put his hand on the back of Spy’s head and pulled him closer. The rest of Scout’s clothes came off in seconds and they tumbled into bed together half-naked and fully-intentioned.

Spy didn’t take off his gloves or his mask, but the suit came off slowly. Underneath was thick dark body hair that Scout loved to feel against his palms, faded tattoos inked with needles attached to pencils, and pockmarked and puckered scar tissue. Guns, knives, explosives: all of the evidence was tangible. Decades of war and espionage at Scout’s fingertips. The gloves and the masks were habit more than true attempts at anonymity: Spy’s body was one-of-a-kind and instantly recognizable. Scout could identify Spy with his eyes shut.

Spy kneeled in between Scout’s legs as Scout took the bottle of oil from the bedstand and poured some onto his hands. Every step of the way from the salt flats back home, Spy’s cock had been hardening and reddening and it throbbed in Scout’s hand as he wrapped his hand around the shaft and squeezed. Scout rubbed and slicked the full length of it and then took the bottle to drizzle more onto the tip. Using the pad of his thumb, Scout massaged the oil until Spy shined and dripped onto the sheets.

Despite having the good sheets, there were oil stains all over them.

Scout lay back and used two wet fingers to open his ass. The familiar stretch made his own cock twitch even as Spy nudged Scout’s thighs open wider.

“I’m hurrying,” Scout gasped. Scout curled his fingers and bit his lip until he felt open enough that he could lie back and line Spy up. There was the familiar push and Spy’s hips were steady and insistent as Spy sank each inch inside.

Scout groaned with hot aching pain. Spy was thick and even slick with oil, it hurt. Scout screwed his eyes shut and sighed, trying to relax, and Spy reached down to stroke Scout’s chin and help. With patience neither of them really had, they waited for Scout’s body to adjust before Spy slid his hands to Scout’s hips and began to fuck Scout like he’d been waiting to all night.

Outside, light rain tapped on the windows and as Scout opened his eyes to stare at the ceiling, Scout thought about the salt flats in slushy water up to their ankles. The crystals that formed between his and Spy’s bodies were all going to be washed away.

Scout rolled his hips back to meet each of Spy’s thrusts. Sweat slid down the back of Scout’s knees and he pulled Spy down by the mask to kiss his disheveled face. With his other hand, Scout reached down to stroke his cock to match along with Spy’s thrusts. They rubbed together and their friction became fire that burned low in Scout’s belly.

Scout gasped and his dick throbbed red as the first spurt of cum landed on his chest. With low whines, Scout’s muscles fluttered and he came more and more until his cock was just dribbling with slow rivers.

“Kyle…” Spy grunted, back arched and hands tight on Scout’s hips, as he came, too, and Scout could feel his insides filling up.

The name felt like a lifetime away. Kyle was some boy in English class who couldn’t pay attention, some little brother who hadn’t made the football team, or some kid could never find the right time to join the army or something. Here, Scout was just the Scout. A lookahead, a runner, and a mercenary.

Sorta.

Here with Spy, in a weird place where the lakes were never wet, Scout was Kyle again.