Angkor, but they’ve been running so long he wouldn’t be surprised if they aren’t in Cambodia anymore, seems much more peaceful on the Angkor Wat brochures back in the hotel. All Hindu and statues and rich Khmer history, but no acid-spraying henchmen for a rogue Nigerian Prince intent on moving millions of dollars in stolen funds to pay for government secrets.
“MOVE! MOVE! You’re almost there!” Benji screams through the tiny earpieces, and despite being more than 20 miles away, he echoes in their heads like he is right behind them. His trap is set to fall in ten seconds and Ethan and Brandt have to be clear of it when it does or be immobilized along with the men and their arsenal of hydrochloric acid bombs..
Ethan sees the tiny flash of light on the ceiling, counting down the seconds. 4...3...”FASTER BRANDT!!”...2...”RIGHT BEHIND YOU!”...1.
A noisy flash and smoke billows up but they can’t stop to admire their work, even as they hear the yells of frustration and defeat, not until they are clear of the throw of the acid. The smoke clears and Ethan and Brandt rest against a wall, out of breath and sweltering in the Cambodian heat. Brandt hunches over, hands on his knees, and it’s then that Ethan notices small holes in the back of Brandt’s shirt; holes about the size of acid drops.
“Brandt! You’re hit!” Ethan peels Brandt away from the wall and stands him upright and examines the damage. Brandt sucks in a breath as Ethan pokes at the holes to see if the acid has eaten all the way through and bonded the remainder to his skin and Ethan can feel Brandt’s entire body tense.
Amazingly, most of the damage is to the fabric and the undershirt, which Ethan doesn’t think twice about removing, exposing lean muscle and a tan. Ethan swallows hard and digs the nails of one hand into his palm. Now is not the time to indulge in a little distraction. Brandt’s skin in red where he was hit, but Benji’s polymer-infused fabric did its job well and thank deities he doesn’t believe in that no acid got their faces.
Ethan touches the welts and Brandt jumps a little. Goosebumps rise to the surface, which has to hurt where the irritation is, but there’s no broken skin, so nothing a few days of intense topical cream won’t help. Brandt still hasn’t let out his breath. His eyes are screwed shut and his cheeks are puffed out, looking like a petulant five year old awaiting a shot from the doctor, and Ethan can’t help but chuckle lightly at the sight.
Brandt opens one eye at the sound and finally exhales. “Let me check you, Ethan. You’re not that much faster than I am, whether you admit it to yourself or not.”
Ethan stands and Brandt signals with his finger to do a 360. Ethan turns with his arms wide so Brandt can give him a once over. He’s sure he wasn’t hit, but he won’t deny fantasizing that Brandt takes a long look at his ass while he’s back there.
Ethan finishes his circle and comes face to face with Brandt again, who is still definitely shirtless and Ethan is nothing if not a gentlemen. He unbuttons his overshirt and gives it to Brandt, leaving Ethan in a plain white, if sweat-soaked, undershirt. IMF would be coming soon to clean up the mess and debriefing is much more pleasant dressed.
Brandt slings the shirt around his shoulders, pushes his arms through gingerly, and leaves the shirt unbuttoned. It’s too hot and the skin around his shoulders hurts a little too much to have fabric constricting it.
Ethan can’t help but notice the long line of exposed skin from neck to trousers and Brandt can’t help but notice where Ethan is looking. He fiddles with the collar of the shirt, reaching and stretching far more than necessary and he can’t help but think Benji would be proud of him being this much of a little shit.
Ethan’s eyes go wide. Brandt slips the fabric a bit off his shoulders to get some cool air to the burns and before he can wonder just what the hell Brandt is playing at, Ethan can’t help himself and lunges forward, crashing against Brandt, backs him up hard against the ancient stone.
He kisses Brandt like he does everything else in life--confident, and knowing that his agent will back him up in this situation like he does on every mission. Brandt yields easily to Ethan’s kiss and Ethan knows the rough stone must be hurting his wounds, but Brandt doesn’t push him away or try to take control of the situation. He simply lets his head roll back to allow Ethan to work his way down his neck, which elicits a little moan from Brandt that drives Ethan out of his mind. Careful of the welts, he seizes Brandt’s shoulders and bites a little at a spot just under his jaw to get more of a reaction and Brandt does not disappoint.
“You want this, Brandt? Right here? I don’t think I can wait until after we get debriefed and get back to Phnom Penh.”
Brandt mumbles something in reply, but he can’t quite make it out, and for a man who speaks several major languages and quite a few minor ones, it’s quite a feat to trip him up on something in English. It sounds positive, though, and it’s all he needs to continue.
Steady hands work their way down to Brandt’s belt, making quick work of it while his mouth finds its way down Brandt’s chest. He fumbles, as much as Ethan Hunt fumbles, with the button on Brandt’s trousers and roughly pushes the fabric down and aside, reaching in to feel exquisite heat and a rock hard cock.
Brandt gasps and takes Ethan’s face in his hands, bringing it back to his and aligning him with Ethan’s own erection for some much-needed friction. He rushes in for another kiss and Ethan moans into his mouth. Brandt reaches down to free Ethan from his trousers, past silky, expensive fabric and tight underwear.
Ethan gently frees Brandt’s grip on him and takes them both in his own hand, starting a rhythm they both know they won’t be able to keep up with for long, but time is a luxury they don’t have now and Brandt’s body language is practically screaming, “MUST COME NOW NOW NOW,” and Ethan needs the adrenaline release more than he needs air and it won’t wait until IMF has the gang in custody and releases them from the debriefing. He strokes them both, their free hands gripping, scratching, squeezing any bare skin they can find, tongues a tangled mess of heat and promise of a more languid exploration later and it’s not long before Brandt is over the edge, breathy and moaning softly in Ethan’s ear, hard against the stone wall for support. He can feel Brandt’s body tense and release and the warm slip in his hand provides extra sensation that forces him to follow quickly, coming hard, mindlessly letting loose a litany in a few different languages.
Brandt forces himself to breathe to come down from it while Ethan tucks them both back in, cleaning them up with a bit of Brandt’s shirt where it’s still intact and clean. His would-be calm is interrupted, though. “I’m going to fuck you properly, William Brandt. Tonight. When everything is done here and we are back in Phnom Penh. I’m going to make you come again and again until you can’t take any more. And you’re still going to beg me for more.”
“Is that an order? Sir?” The corners of his mouth quirk up. It takes more than one orgasm to knock his attitude down a few notches.
“You bet your ass it is.” Ethan can hear choppers in the distance. “The Clean-Up team is on its way. We should, eh...”
“Yeah. Yeah. Ok.” Brandt wipes the sweat from his face and goes to turn the corner to greet the Clean-Up team at the trap, where the prisoners are now under the influence of a very powerful sedative released in gas form a few seconds after it fell.
Ethan joins him a second later, meticulously groomed, not a hair out of place. Brandt still doesn’t know how he manages it, but he plans on seeing just what it takes to thoroughly wreck Ethan Hunt that night.