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Chasing That Holy Feeling

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It is, Nicky thinks, entirely Joe's fault that he's currently lying on his stomach, waiting for his target (who should have been here three fucking hours ago, thank you), with his cock throbbing (and trapped between him and the hard concrete) and every movement making his ass clench around the plug that's pressing against his prostate.

I got you a present, Joe had said, after Nicky had got out of the shower.

(He'd said it in that soft tone that Joe knows can get Nicky to agree to anything.

That tone was the reason they'd had to make a rapid retreat from Versailles in 1987 – although Nicky thinks the tour guide may have been more mortified than he had been. Joe, the bastard, had just laughed, before tugging his trousers up and pulling Nicky to his feet, while brushing away the dribble of come at the corner of Nicky's mouth with a thumb.

That tone was the reason Nicky still couldn't even think about baking a bienenstich without starting to blush – Andy also had issues with that one, as it was her Nicky had been making the cake for, and she still objected that more of the vanilla custard had ended up inside Nicky's ass than on the cake. Joe, who was still a bastard, had just laughed at that one as well, before getting up from where he'd been kneeling behind Nicky and carefully wiping the custard off his beard.)

As soon as I picked it up, I needed to see you wearing it, Joe had said, pressing close to Nicky's bare back, the heat of his body sinking into Nicky's still shower-warm skin.

(He'd scattered kisses over the back of Nicky's neck as he'd trailed his hand across Nicky's stomach, his nails leaving red trails that had disappeared in seconds. Deft fingers had undone the towel around Nicky's waist and let it fall to their feet, as Joe had wrapped his fingers around Nicky's cock, stroking him slowly. The present Joe had mentioned had been sitting on the bed, thick and long and bright blue, and just waiting to go up Nicky's ass.)

Please, Nicolo, for me, Joe had said.

(Again in that damn tone of his. Which is why Nicky had found himself ass up and over Joe's lap. Joe had been up to three fingers, moving them in and out of Nicky's ass, stretching his rim and slicking him up with lube. He'd tried rubbing his hard cock against the rough fabric of Joe's cargo pants, but that had just led to a sharp slap on his ass and an admonishment to Behave--)

Once Joe had deemed Nicky slick and stretched enough, he'd picked up the plug and slowly slid it inside, which leads Nicky to right where he is now – hard and annoyed and currently cursing both his husband and his target (seriously, how late could this bastard be?!) in seventeen different languages.

The plug Joe chose is slightly curved in a way that's pushing against Nicky's prostate, and even without moving, the pressure is making his dick hard and wanting. He's had to grind down against the concrete a few times to stop himself from coming.

I want you to think about me while you're wearing it. Think about the way it's stretching you out, keeping you ready for me. Think about the way that, when we're back here after the mission, I'm going to pull the plug out of you and push right in. I'm going to fill you with my come and plug you right back up again.

Joe isn't with him, the perch Nicky chose for the best vantage point being barely big enough for him, never mind another person. It's not the first time he's been alone as a sniper, but he prefers it when his spotter is there; Joe next to him instead of in a hotel room three floors down, and nothing more than a voice in Nicky's ear.

Are you still hard, habibi? Do you need my cock inside you? Can you hold off on coming, Nicolo? Can you hold off until I'm inside you and you're coming on my cock?

Every so often, Joe will murmur down the comm line, words that are carried to Nicky in a language no longer spoken by anyone else.

(What is Joe saying? Nile had asked, at one point.

Trust me, Andy had replied, you do not want to know.)

Nicky doesn't answer with words, but he knows Joe doesn't expect him to. There's a space Nicky sinks into when he's looking through the scope of a rifle, when his entire world narrows down to that singular focus. Talking would simply break the bubble that Nicky's woven around himself, consisting of nothing but the whisper of the wind, the beat of his heart, and the soft rumble of Joe's voice.

I can't wait to sink into you. I've been half-hard since I had you over my lap, my heart. The way you squirmed when my fingers were in you, trying to get off against my leg like a naughty little boy. I admit, I was a little disappointed that you stopped moving after only one spank. I had hoped you'd give me the chance to redden your ass and hear those delicious noises you make.

Nicky swallows, closing his eyes for only a second before forcing them back open again. He can almost feel Joe's hand coming down sharply on his ass, almost feel the heat diffusing through him. The plug is solid in his ass, unforgiving as he clenches around it. He can feel Joe's name welling inside him, wanting to be free, to be spoken, and it's more of a devotion than he ever felt as a priest on his knees before God.

Maybe I'll spank you before I fuck you, to make up for missing out earlier. Warm your ass before I sink--

"Target spotted. Car should be in sight in 30 seconds--" Nile's voice over the comms cuts off Joe's words, and all Nicky can think is At fucking last. Because of this idiot's inability to keep to a schedule, Nicky's been here for hours longer than he should have been, lying on unforgiving concrete, with his dick harder than Nicky thinks it's ever been and his ass filled, and his husband saying every obscene thing that apparently came to mind. This bastard is going down with extreme prejudice, and that's before Nicky even factors in the human trafficking.

"Nicky," Andy's voice comes next, "take the shot as soon as you can and then get out of there. We'll meet you back at the hotel." Nicky can already hear Andy start to break down the equipment from the room she and Joe have taken over, and he knows that Joe will be watching until Nicky's bullet hits its target.

The car he's waiting for comes to a stop and a man who has ruined hundreds of lives steps out, completely unaware that he has less than a minute to live. A single breath in and the slight movement of his trigger finger, and the bullet starts to fly as Nicky breathes out, finding its home as surely as Nicky knew it would.

Nicky catches the bullet casing and is moving before the body hits the ground and HOLY FUCK--

"Nicolo?" The worried tone in Joe's voice tells Nicky that the gasp he made when he moved was absolutely as loud as he'd hoped it wasn't.

There are words in Nicky's mind, ones that he thinks he should speak. There's please-- and yes-- and fuck-- and Yusuf--, but, in the end, only the last makes it through his lips.

The noises in his ear are drowned out by the sound of the blood rushing through his body. He thinks he hears Joe calling his name, thinks he hears Joe telling him he's coming for him, but it all pales in comparison to the fire in him. His ass is clenching around the plug with each beat of his heart and it's sending waves of pleasure running through him, and all he can hear with each twitch of his cock is Joe's voice, all he can tell himself as he presses the palm of his hand against his cargo pants, grinding it into his cock, is Don't come, don't come, don't come--

It's seconds, minutes, hours, eternity before Joe reaches him, before Joe's hands are on him.


He's tugged off the perch he's still on and into Joe's arms, his husband's touch to check that he's uninjured doing nothing but sending more fire through Nicky's body.

"Please--" Nicky grabs Joe's hand, pressing it to his crotch.

There's a moment as Joe pauses, and Nicky can feel the smile spreading over Joe's lips as he presses his face into Nicky's hair.

"Oh, habibi, is this the issue?" Joe pushes his leg between Nicky's as he rubs at Nicky's cloth-covered cock, Joe's own hardness pushing against him. "You were so good for me, sweetheart, keeping this plug in you, being so still when you had to be, and now look at you."

Nicky whines as the hand that isn't on his crotch moves down the back of his cargo pants, Joe's fingertips pressing at the base of the plug. He grabs at the arm that's partially across his stomach, digging his fingers in. "Joe, please--" He thinks he should be asking for something, but Nicky isn't sure what he needs beyond Joe.

"I've got you, Nicky," Joe murmurs softly, his hand moving from Nicky's cock to snap open the buttons on his cargos. "I've got you."

Nicky shivers as fabric is pushed out of the way to release his cock to the air. And he knows he's not going to last once Joe gets his fingers on him, knows that all it'll take is the slightest touch from his husband. "I can't-- I won't--" Because Joe had asked him to hold on, asked him not to come.

"I know, this is just to take the edge off," Joe reassures him. "You're going to come for me, Nicolo, and I'm going to use that to slick my cock so I can fuck you." Joe pauses, pressing a kiss behind Nicky's ear, as he pulls his hand out of the back of Nicky's cargos, "and then we're going to go back to hotel, where I'm going to fuck you again."

"Yes--" Because even to Nicky's lust-addled mind that sounds like the best idea ever. "Oh god, yes."

Joe huffs a laugh into Nicky's shoulder as he grips Nicky's cock and roughly strips it once, twice before Nicky's coming.

Nicky shakes as he comes, the combination of everything from the past few hours crashing down on him like a ceaseless wave of pleasure that all culminates in Joe's touch.

"That's it--" Joe's voice is soft, with a hint of roughness as he holds Nicky's cock, aiming it so he can catch Nicky's come in his other hand.

Nicky is still dripping the last few drops of come when Joe's hand moves, releasing the softening cock and gripping Nicky's arm. It takes more effort than Nicky cares to admit to get his legs to move, as Joe takes them both a few steps to the nearby wall. There's a metal pipe a few inches above his head, and Nicky grabs it, using it to steady himself as Joe uses his free hand to tug the back of Nicky's pants down until they're sitting just under his asscheeks.

"Are you ready, my heart?" There's a hitch to Joe's voice, making Nicky look back over his shoulder. Joe is spreading Nicky's come over his cock, slicking himself up, as he said he would.

Nicky bites his lower lip as he juts his ass out. He feels wiped out and so sensitive that even the slightest brush of air over his cock is causing him to shiver, and he's pretty sure that if he lets go of the pipe above him that he's not going to be able to stay on his feet, but the one thing Nicky will always be ready for is Joe. "Please, Joe, fuck me--" Because even if he knows Joe can read it in every line of his body, he knows that his husband likes hearing the words.

Joe's fingers grip the base of the plug, and Nicky arches his back as it's eased out of his body. He feels split open, like the plug has left behind a space that needs to be filled, like it's left behind a space that Joe needs to fill.

Barely a second passes before Joe is there, his chest against Nicky's back and his cock pushing into Nicky's ass, the drying tackiness of the come catching on skin in a way that has Nicky wanting more. Joe doesn't wait, or give Nicky's body time adjust, he doesn't need to.

Nicky gasps as Joe drives into him with a snap of his hips, pressing him into the wall. The rough scrape of the brick against Nicky's sensitised cock has Nicky pushing back into Joe's thrusts. Nicky knows this isn't going to be drawn out, knows that Joe was already close to coming when he pushed into Nicky's ass.

Joe's hands grab Nicky's hips as he fucks him, his cock pounding into Nicky's ass. The breath gusting across the back of Nicky's neck is getting heavier with each motion and Nicky can feel the slight stutter in Joe's thrusts that say he's on the edge of coming.

Forcing his fingers to uncurl from the pipe they're wrapped around, Nicky moves one of his hands, reaching back to tangle his fingers in Joe's hair. He tugs sharply, loving both the gasp that Joe gives and the way it segues in a groan as Joe thrusts hard once, twice, and then stills, coming into Nicky's ass.

The stillness of the air is broken by the heavy breaths from both of them, and the soft moan Nicky gives as Joe's softening cock slips out of him.

With a kiss to the top of Nicky's back, Joe reaches up to the hand in his hair, untangling Nicky's fingers from his curls. Stepping back, Joe reaches out to tug Nicky's pants back up over his ass, before Nicky hears the rustling of Joe tucking himself away.

Stretching out the fingers that were still wrapped around the pipe, Nicky drops his hands to his waist, fastening the buttons of his pants as he turns around, smiling at Joe. "I thought you were going to plug me back up again."

Joe smirks, and Nicky's pretty sure it's because he slurred at least half of those words. So sue him; he's just been thoroughly fucked by the love of his life after being on the edge for hours, he's allowed to slur a word or two.

"That had been the original plan, but I figure we should at least wash it first." Joe nods at the ground, and Nicky's gaze follows to where the plug is lying on the ground, presumably where Joe dropped it after pulling it from Nicky's body, covered in grit and dirt and at least a couple more things that Nicky doesn't want shoved up his ass.

"Fair point," he comments lightly.

"Are you good to make it to the hotel?" Joe asks.

Nicky breathes deeply. He needs to grab his rifle and make sure that nothing has been left behind. There's a deep ache in his ass and his cock is twitching against the rough fabric of his cargo pants in a way that makes him want to wince with every movement (damn him for agreeing after Joe asked him to go commando for this one). He feels like he wants to sleep for hours, and he's pretty sure the wetness he can feel between his ass cheeks is Joe's come starting to leak out of him. He feels utterly wrecked, but all of it fades into nothing when Joe smiles at him.

"Si, amati," Nicky replies, reaching out for his husband and linking their fingers together, "I'm good."