Archive of Our Own

The view of the city slowly melted away as the train picked up its pace. It rolled smoothly on the tracks, the sound of its movement quiet and faint, and Cypher let himself relax as the outskirts of the city gave way to lush green forests sprawled below the viaduct.

“Isn’t this nice, Sova?” he said.

Cypher had his back turned away from the window as he was sitting at the foot of the full-sized bed, and his back leaned against the wall of the train instead. Across from him sat Sova, at the other end of the bed, who gave him a look of acknowledgement before turning to the passing scenery.

“It is, I guess,” he admitted, though he looked unsure.

“Your expression says otherwise.”

Sova said nothing for a moment, keeping his eyes on the view outside. Then he said, “I personally don’t see the efficiency of this trip. That’s all.”

“You don’t like my company?” he said, feigning sadness, and the hunter rolled his eyes. “Well, this isn’t about efficiency. It’s not every day we get to travel via train. It’s quite nice! Of course, it’s slower compared to our usual methods of travel, but I welcome the change of pace. Chamber was kind enough to rent out this whole train carriage for the team.”

“It’s nice, but I think we both know the reason why he decided the scenic route to our destination was better than our aircraft,” Sova said wryly, turning to him.

“What?” Cypher said, feigning ignorance as he dragged out the word. “You’re telling me Chamber has ulterior motives for this trip?”

The hunter, fortunately, graced him with a small smile of amusement. Then he turned his attention back to the window, indicating the end of the conversation.

Yes, they both knew why Chamber spontaneously announced that they were travelling via train rather than aircraft. The slower pace, the scenic view, and the private two-person sleeper cabins with full-sized beds made for ideal conditions for some… much-needed alone time with Yoru, who just came back from a vacation in Japan before being thrown into a mission.

Not that Reyna and Sage minded in the end, even if the latter shared Sova’s questions.

While everyone was okay — or more than okay — with it overall, it left Sova and Cypher as perhaps unintentional third-wheelers. There wasn’t even another place to sleep in, not even a chair, so they were forced to share a bed, much to Sova’s dismay.

Roomed together for the next twelve hours, there was an unspoken tension that even Cypher would admit. Usually, it wouldn’t have bothered him. He knew the animosity was one-sided, but even if they were on better footing today than in the past, it was still there. 

Maybe in another timeline, this train carriage housed three couples instead of two and a pair of third-wheelers. Then things wouldn’t have been this awkward.

Cypher kept his eyes on Sova, and Sova kept his eyes looking out the window, focusing on what was outside. It seemed that he was pointedly ignoring him, a habit the hunter grew to have whenever he was with the spy outside of a work setting. 

He sighed quietly. He found it a little ridiculous to hold this much of a grudge against someone for so long. But he never blamed Sova for it. Still, would it hurt to let it go?

“Have you ever ridden trains, Sova?” he asked in an attempt to make small talk.

“I have. But only a few times. I never really had a reason to. And I’ve never gotten on a train like this,” he said. “The closest train station from where I lived was in Murmansk, and that city isn’t exactly close. I’ve ridden the overnight train going to Moscow once. Planes are faster.”

“So you prefer planes?”

“I prefer quick and efficient methods of travel,” he said, emphasizing his point from earlier. Then he shrugged. “But trains are cheaper. I don’t mind it. It’s a nice change of pace.”

Sova didn’t continue after that. He had always been a man of a few words and was not one for small talk, especially towards him. The spy knew that he would rather sit in silence for the entirety of the trip, to keep to themselves, since Cypher was his company.

Cypher still stared at him, even when the silence stretched as seconds ticked by. Sova was accustomed to his blatant staring, and he supposed that he had mastered the art of ignoring the spy. He wondered if he were someone else, would Sova be more talkative? Would the silence be warm rather than awkward?

Sunlight and shadows flickered across the hunter’s face as the train passed by a forest, enveloping the locomotive in verdant green. For once, Sova looked at peace, even when he was with Cypher. He looked good when he wasn’t wearing that permanent stoic look of his, with those intense eyes and a slight scowl.

Wherever they were now, they were still very, very far from the next station. Not even fifteen minutes have passed since the train started moving.

— — —

They were two hours into the trip, and nothing had changed.

Any attempt at small talk the spy tried to initiate was quickly shut down — not rudely, but it was clear that Sova wanted no part of it. At some point, he even put on some earbuds and laid on the bed, sending a clear message to Cypher to leave him alone.

Cypher had moved on from watching the hunter and instead turned to entertainment elsewhere. His laptop provided footage of the headquarters, and he ended up watching Raze and Jett compete against each other in one of the training rooms. He occasionally glanced up at the lying figure on the bed.

He had no idea if Sova was asleep; that man had barely moved since he lied down. Sova had an arm under his pillow, the other curled into his chest, and his phone was next to his head. For someone who towered over the majority of the protocol and was generally known to be aggressive in battle, that persona melted away whenever he was asleep. 

Cypher found it adorable; it wasn’t every day that he got to see Sova in this state. Even when they would end up sleeping outside of base for missions, or on the rare occasion he passed out on air, Sova slept like he was on high alert, bordering himself on sleep.

He wondered why he let himself fall asleep like this, and in front of Cypher too. Maybe he didn’t expect to fall asleep. Maybe Sova finally took advantage of the long train ride — the lull of the train was soothing, and the atmosphere was good for a nap. Or maybe Cypher was just looking into this too much.

Hm. He really needed to get that crush in check.

The spy set his laptop aside, and he stood up, looking at the hunter for any reaction. When Sova didn’t stir, he quietly stepped out of the cabin and into the little corridor. Windows lined the wall, and he looked around. Everyone else’s doors were closed, and he didn’t know if they were awake or not. Judging by how quiet the train carriage was, maybe they weren’t.

He let his feet guide him where to go, and he ended up in the dining carriage. He hadn't encountered anybody else while he walked, which he preferred, and the dining carriage was empty aside from an occupied table, their backs facing him. It seemed that it was a quiet hour on the train.

He moved on and explored the rest of the train. He wasn’t hungry just yet, and he doubted that he could order something and bring it back into his cabin. It made him wonder if he would ever find a moment of privacy to eat something, or if he was going to starve himself for ten more hours.

Eventually, he reached the tail end of the train, the observation carriage. Bigger windows surrounded the walls, and sunlight streamed through the provided sunroof. There were a lot more people here — many were fast asleep — but otherwise, it was in the same quiet state that the whole train was suspended in, simply taking in the view. 

He then spotted a familiar head towards the end of the carriage, standing up as he looked out with a steaming mug in his hand. Cypher didn’t hesitate to approach his side.

“Bonjour, Cypher,” Chamber greeted. “Enjoying yourself?”

“I am. I walked around the whole train,” he said. “It’s nice here. I expected more people in the dining car, though.”

“At this hour, no. But dinner service starts at,” the Frenchman checked his watch, “five o’clock. People will be coming out by then.”

“Yoru isn’t with you?”

“Yoru’s asleep. He’s still jet-lagged,” he said, sipping on his espresso. “Of course, I’m letting him sleep, lest I get hurt.”

“I believe everyone is asleep.”

“I don’t blame them. This is ’prime napping hours,’ according to the others,” he chuckled. “What do you think of the trip so far?”

“It’s not every day we ride trains with sleeper cars. I like it. Sova, on the other hand, not so much.”

“Ah, yes. The full-sized beds make it a little more complicated, doesn’t it?” Chamber chuckled. “And how’s Sova?”

“Sova? He’s holding up well, I think. He’s asleep too.”

“Is he? I wonder what he looks like. Does he keep the same face, or does he actually look serene?”

“I’m not answering that,” he humoured. He liked to tease Sova, but he didn’t feel like facing his wrath today. “Though feel free to enter the cabin and see for yourself. But you might be met with a fist on your face.”

“Speaking from experience?”

He snickered. “Thankfully, no. He doesn’t harm his fellow colleagues, no matter how much he dislikes them.”

“Then it’s a good thing he gets that opportunity in battle, then,” Chamber joked quietly. “That’s one thing you and I have in common. He doesn’t exactly have the highest opinion of us.”

“He’s good at that,” he sighed. “At least he still talks to us.”

“He’s a quiet man. Sometimes I wish he would loosen up a bit. I feel like he’d tell some interesting stories, especially from his military days. If things were different, maybe he and I would’ve been good friends.”

Chamber had another sip of his espresso. Cypher thought of the hypotheticals: if things were different, if Sova was more understanding of his job, then maybe the two of them would’ve gotten along too. They were both relied on by the protocol to gather information, with him behind the scenes and Sova more on foot. And they worked together a lot too; he’d say that a good chunk of his missions was paired with the hunter.

Yet Sova stayed persistent with his dislike for the spy, and that hasn’t changed much over the years.

“Maybe. I think of the same too,” he said. “He’s friendly and encouraging to everyone, and he does give credit when it’s due. I know he has a heart.”

“He does; he just guards it well, I guess. That’s a trend among the protocol, don’t you think?”

Cypher looked at him dryly, choosing to ignore that last sentence. “I just wish that he’d just grow out of that grudge; that man sure knows how to keep it going. If he had been more understanding of our roles, maybe we would’ve been closer than we are now.”

“Closer, you say?” Chamber said, sounding interested. “Do elaborate.”

Cypher squinted at him. He knew exactly what he meant by growing closer, but he wasn’t going to simply admit that to Chamber, of all people. “Friends, Chamber,” he clarified, though the spy did want to be more than just that towards Sova. “Things would be easier if we were friends.”

They lapsed into silence. The train was rolling across the plains now, with overgrown grass and feathered tips, and from the distance, he could see the mountains and hilltops. The late afternoon sun glinted into the windows, and Cypher could feel its warmth from inside. 

Chamber eventually finished off his espresso, and he looked inside his mug with a hum of disapproval. “Can I give you a word of advice, from one fellow colleague to another?” he said suddenly.

The spy eyed him dubiously. “Go for it.”

“You should approach him differently.”

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes at such a suggestion. “How insightful,” he deadpanned.

“No, really! You should,” he said. “You don’t have to believe me when I say this, but I think your desires are much more achievable than you think they are.”

But Chamber didn’t know what he truly desired from Sova. It wasn’t just friendship; it was more than that. He’s had a crush on the hunter for years now — it wasn’t an innocent crush either — and he has long since accepted that it was never going to go any farther than what he had now. 

“You’re quite optimistic. But I’m fine with how things are,” the spy said. “Wishes don’t need to come true.”

“Are you?”

Cypher scrunched his face in suspicion. “You’re pushing your luck here, Chamber,” he warned.

“Fine, fine. I’ll stop,” he chuckled. “But keep my advice in mind. Maybe it would serve you some good.”

Cypher quirked an eyebrow at him, even if the Frenchman wouldn’t see it. “Speaking from experience?”

He smirked. “Yes.”

— — —

When Cypher walked back to his cabin, he found himself locked out. He jiggled the door handle, but to no avail.

“Sova?” he said, knocking. “What?”

“I’m changing,” the hunter called out.

“Well, hurry up. I’d rather not be out here for much longer,” he grumbled. “I’ve already been gawked at a handful of times already.”

There wasn’t a response. Then the lock clicked and the door opened, revealing Sova in joggers and a shirt. He adjusted his shirt from the bottom, and Cypher couldn’t help but have his eyes follow his hands.

“I really thought you would’ve locked me out!” the spy said.

“Where were you?” Sova asked.

“Why? Did you miss me?” Cypher teased.

Sova made a face, but it wasn’t a look of disgust. And his cheeks pinked. “Don’t get ahead of yourself,” he said quietly. “I was just curious.”

“Well, you were asleep. I had nothing else better to do, so I walked around the rest of the train.”

“You make it sound like I’m your only source of entertainment here.”

“Maybe you are,” Cypher shrugged. “Yoru doesn’t talk to me, and neither does Reyna. Sage, hm, maybe, but I think she’s… preoccupied with Reyna today.”

“And Chamber?”

“He’s intriguing, but I don’t want to talk to him. Not right now, anyway.” Cypher unceremoniously sat down on the foot of the bed, and he slinked backwards, his back against the wall. “Actually, I ran into him on the observation deck earlier. He’s an interesting conversationalist, to say the least.”

Sova shook his head. Cypher thought back to the small conversation he had earlier, at Chamber’s ridiculous advice. Then he watched as Sova put on a hoodie over his head, his shirt pulling up slightly and exposing a glimpse of his stomach. And Cypher kept his eyes on that patch of skin before it was covered up once more.

“Cypher.”

He snapped his head up. “What?”

“You alright?”

“Of course! Why wouldn’t I be?” he chuckled, waving him off. “I was thinking, that’s all. There aren’t really a lot of things to do here.”

“Hm,” was all he replied with, sounding dissatisfied with the answer, but he didn’t push.

“How long have you been awake?” the spy asked. “What time is it?”

“Five-thirty. I haven’t been awake for long.”

“Chamber said dinner service starts at five. You look comfortable.”

“I know. And you don’t,” Sova said, eyeing Cypher’s usual attire. He started combing through his hair. “Do you plan on changing out of those clothes?”

“What, are you trying to see me out of these clothes? You know I’m not going to eat in public.”

Sova sputtered, the pink on his cheeks deepening, and Cypher laughed at his reaction. “You know that’s not what I meant,” he muttered. “It just doesn’t seem comfortable wearing all of that all the time. I’ve never seen you out of those clothes…”

He was lucky he wore a mask, because the idea of Sova imagining what he looked like without clothes was an appealing thought, and he couldn’t help the blush that formed on his face, even though that wasn’t how Sova intended the message to be.

The hunter narrowed his eyes at him, as if he could read his mind. “Leave me alone,” he said, that blush of his never leaving his face. “I know what you were going to say.”

Cypher laughed, and Sova grumbled to himself. Oh, it was always so fun to tease Sova. Sometimes it felt like the spy was one person who could get under his skin like this; who could get him to react like this. Well, the other person could be Breach, but he butted heads with Brimstone more than Sova.

Sova said nothing after that, and so Cypher kept his mouth shut. Instead, he settled on watching him fold his clothes and arrange his luggage. The setting sun cast a golden glow into the cabin, highlighting his figure and his too-blond hair. Even with simple joggers and a hoodie, Cypher found him attractive.

He bit the inside of his lip. He’s always found him appealing, but for some reason, right now, he looked even more so. Maybe it was the light. Or maybe it was because of how damn casual Sova looked right now. He was good at brushing off Cypher’s antics. Was this how Sova was without him around?

Sova went to the door and opened it, looking left and right into the corridor. Then he turned the spy. He made no comment about his staring. “So are you not going to eat today?” he said, like he was changing the topic.

“Well, I don’t really have a choice.”

Sova then looked at him as if he was contemplating something. “I’ll bring you dinner, then.”

“How would I eat?”

“I’ll leave,” he said. “It’ll be my turn to walk around.”

“Are you trying to get away from me? I thought we were getting along.”

“Maybe,” Sova said with a small frown and a furrow of his brow. “I believe it’s best if we try to stay out of each other’s way.”

“That’s kind of hard when we share the same room.”

“I meant until we go to sleep,” he sighed. “You want privacy, no? I’ll give it to you. Maybe you can even take off that mask so that you can breathe properly for once.”

Cypher opened his mouth to say something, but Sova was prepared. The hunter shot him a wary look that practically said “don’t,” and the colour on his cheeks lingered. Then he stepped out of the cabin and closed the door behind him.

“Sova! Oh, are you okay?” he heard Sage’s muffled voice say. “You’re really pink.”

“You know my company,” Sova’s muffled voice said in reply, sounding dismayed. “I need a change of scenery.”

“Cypher’s not that bad,” he heard Chamber say.

Their voices grew distant as they made their way to the dining carriage. Cypher now had the entire cabin — and the bed — to himself. With his source of entertainment gone, he wondered what to do.

Now that he’s thought about it, he’d barely done anything regarding the mission. He’d stalked the headquarters, then wandered around the train before coming back into their shared cabin to tease Sova a little bit. It felt like he’d thought of Sova more than he had thought about the mission today, and they’d just surpassed the three-hour mark of their twelve-hour journey.

Maybe he should work on the mission. And so, he pulled out his laptop and started clicking typing away.

But Cypher didn’t start working on the mission. As much of a workaholic as he was, even he knew when to stop working, and he had already done everything he needed to do. He was on a train rolling across Europe, and he was here doing work. It was probably why Chamber thought it was the perfect opportunity to travel there slowly.

Cypher ended up hacking into the surveillance system of the entire train, and he checked on the others eating steak and asparagus or whatever was being served in the dining carriage. But he forced himself to start working, and soon enough, he got into the familiar flow of work: compiling files together and re-checking their information.

He didn’t keep up with the time. He found himself writing short notes on a sticky notepad and pressing them on his laptop’s monitor. The sun had already set, turning the sky into a dull purple. The cabin was getting darker too, as the lights were off the whole day, and he hadn’t bothered turning on the wall lamp. Cypher liked the darkness anyway.

Eventually, his flow was interrupted when someone rapped against the cabin door. “Yes?” he called out.

“Can I come in?” Sova said, and the spy gave him the go. He entered with a disposable cup — he could see the teabag’s tab underneath the lid — and a takeout container. He looked confusedly around the dark cabin, and he turned on the wall lamp. Cypher looked at the time. They were fifteen minutes into seven o’clock.

“It’s so dark in here,” Sova said to himself.

“You guys were having dinner for a while.”

“We finished dinner pretty quickly. Sage and Chamber carried out the conversations. But there was, ah, drama in the car. Everybody wanted to eavesdrop.”

“Even you?”

“I mean, it was hard to ignore,” he shuddered. “Someone even threw their drink at him.”

Sova then handed him both the cup and the container. Both were warm, and Cypher set the cup on the side table. “Here. Dinner. I didn’t know what you wanted, so I just ordered what I had,” Sova said. “I made sure that it was freshly made.”

“Really?” Cypher said, feeling touched. “Thank you.”

“I’m not serving you cold food. That’s depressing.” He gestured at the tea. “And I got you mint tea.”

Oh, Cypher really wanted to comment on how Sova bothered to get him the type of tea he liked, but he bit his tongue and spared him the comment. He took a peek at what was inside the takeout container. Inside was a neat display of what Sova had for dinner, and he could see the condensation of the steam from inside the lid.

“I thought this train wasn’t the takeout type,” Cypher said.

“They aren’t. Apparently, they didn’t do takeout containers. Either you eat there or you order room service unless you were getting drinks. They told me to just order room service.” Suddenly, Sova went sheepish. “I told them that technically I was.”

“So you… convinced them to stray from their protocol so I could have something to eat?”

“I wasn’t going to let you starve. And I don’t know if you’d like a sudden stranger appearing at the door offering food,” Sova said exasperatedly. “It’s a twelve-hour trip. That’s half of a whole day. You haven’t eaten since we left base. And you have a bad habit of skipping mealtimes.”

A swell of affection burst in Cypher’s chest, and he smiled towards the hunter even if he couldn’t see it. “Aw, Sova. I didn’t know you cared this much for me,” he crooned. “You know my eating habits?”

Sova’s lips thinned as his face pinked once more. “I’m… going to leave you alone now,” he said. “Lock the door so that I know you’re not covered up.”

Before Cypher could say anything back, Sova left the cabin. It was clear that he was sticking with his idea of keeping away from each other for as long as they could. Shaking his head, the spy looked at the meal that was in his hands. Now that he had it, his body was reminding him of how hungry he actually was. It did smell appealing, and it looked appetizing enough. 

“How thoughtful,” Cypher mumbled to himself. Then he pulled up his mask and started to eat. He didn’t lock the door. Sova knocked anyway.

— — —

He finished dinner quickly, eager to put his mask back on. At this point, he was much more comfortable wearing a mask than without it. He was already being incredibly risky eating in “public,” and he’d rather not spend any more time being maskless. Cypher even went ahead and cleaned himself up in the washroom down the sleeper carriage, just so that he’d get everything out of the way.

He tossed out the empty takeout container and the cup on the way back to the cabin. The meal was good, but the tea was mediocre. Still, it was enough to satisfy him for tonight. 

He resumed work when he got back, playing some chess games against bots and occasionally sneaking glances at the train’s surveillance. He spotted Sova sitting in the observation car, looking out at the windows with earbuds in. An hour had passed, then another, and Sova was still there, unmoving and all.

Cypher wondered if he was going to end up sleeping in the observation car. After all, it wasn’t forbidden, and he was against sleeping on the same bed as the spy. Which disappointed Cypher because he was looking forward to sleeping on the same bed as his crush, but he wasn’t going to force Sova to do the same.

But Sova did come back at around nine. He knocked and called out, and he entered when there was no response after a few beats.

“Oh. I thought you were asleep,” Sova said. “The lights were off.”

“I was finishing up what we needed for the mission,” Cypher said. “Then I can finally relax.”

The hunter went after the light switch, but Cypher stopped him and said, “Keep them off. I like the dark. It sets a certain mood, you know?”

The hunter gave him an odd look. “Right.”

Sova went through his luggage and pulled out a little toiletry bag. He left the cabin once more, and minutes later he came back, with his face damp and the hair on his hairline glinting gold. He then sat on the bed, settling himself down, and the spy finished off what he was doing and shut down his laptop now that his source of entertainment had come back.

The two of them were back in the same positions as they were from the start of the train ride: sitting in front of each other, with Sova facing the window and Cypher facing Sova on the foot of the bed. In the dark, too.

“Where’d you wander off to?” Cypher started to say. 

“I checked out the other carriages. Nothing too fancy, really,” he said. “I ended up in the observation carriage at the end of the train.”

Yes, and you stayed there for two hours, the spy wanted to say. “And how was that?” was what he said instead.

“It was good. There’s no light pollution around these parts. You could see the stars if you focus hard enough,” he said. He sounded pleased. “I spent most of my time there.”

“I thought you’d end up sleeping out there instead,” Cypher admitted. “I thought you wouldn’t come back.”

“Why?” Then, unexpectedly, Sova shot him a small, maybe even teasing, smile. “Did you miss me?”

Completely baffled, Cypher stammered for an answer. Sova looked satisfied with himself for finally being able to successfully catch the spy off-guard. Cypher didn’t know how to feel about it. He had never heard Sova say something like that before; he was used to the threats and the dislike. He wasn’t used to this… sort of response. And he’d be lying if he didn’t say that it did things to him.

“Cat got your tongue?” Sova said. That playful smile had disappeared, and he was back to his usual neutral expression. For a moment, Cypher thought he had imagined that smile.

“I didn’t expect you to respond like that,” he said honestly, trying to ignore the heat that settled on his face.

Sova said nothing for a moment, and he looked behind Cypher and out of the window. Then he looked back at him and said, “I guess you don’t know a lot of things about me after all. I have my moments too, you know.”

“But I’ve never heard you say anything like that to me before,” the spy said. “Don’t just brush this aside!”

“I can’t do the same thing you’re doing?” he quipped, crossing his arms. “Two can play that game, you know. And it seems that it has as much of an effect on you as it does on me.”

Cypher gawked at him, unsure of what to say. Sova’s expression was unreadable, and he didn’t say anything more. He looked out of the window instead, even though it was too dark outside to admire anything.

But to Cypher, the only thing he could really look at was Sova, the man he’s been attracted in for years. He couldn’t look away, and he focused on Sova’s face, who was focused elsewhere. And he let his eyes trail across his body, from his broad shoulders to the exposed skin of his neck; to those covered arm; to his joggers.

He’s heard the younger agents talk about these types of sweatpants, the gray ones specifically. Sova had the tendency to avoid him outside of work, and thus whenever the spy saw Sova in casual clothing, it was almost always through his surveillance cameras and never in person. And Cypher couldn’t help but throw a glance down there, like he was trying to catch a glimpse of what he was expecting.

And he did. It was faint, but it was there, and the spy swallowed thickly. Has Sova always worn these joggers back in base? If so, Cypher seemed to be missing out. He needed to pay more attention. He figured that not only did he have a thing for a man in uniform, but outside of it as well, in both ways.

He simply couldn’t help himself; when someone he was attracted to was sitting in front of him like that, he couldn’t help but stare. He again felt lucky that his mask covered his face, and he was also lucky that his lenses didn’t track his eyes either. The things he’d do to this man if he was given the chance…

Focus, Amir, he told himself, flicking his eyes away. Not Sova. Anything but him.

Cypher’s eyes darted back to his face. Only this time, he saw that Sova was staring at him too, with that indiscernible look on his face. Unlike the start of the train ride, now he was looking at Cypher rather than the passing view. A spark shot up from his spine from his gaze, and the spy shuffled on his seat as his heart noticeably sped up.

“You’re staring,” Cypher pointed out.

“You are too,” Sova countered.

“So you are staring?”

Sova kept his eyes on him, not backing down. He was trying to read him, Cypher realized, which he found a little humorous. It was like he was trying to intimidate him with both his look and his voice, as if it would work. In fact, it did something else other than intimidate.

“You’re not denying it either,” he said. “I guess we’re both guilty of it, huh?”

He was still looking at him. The train then entered a tunnel, and the dark sky was replaced with stone walls and fluorescent lights, plunging the cabin into a deeper darkness.

The passing lights of the tunnel flashed across Sova’s face, briefly highlighting his cheeks and nose. The faint glow of his right eye was like a beacon in the night, prominent and unchanging, unlike his biological eye. It was hard to ignore his stare in a scenario like this.

If Cypher were someone else, perhaps he’d be unnerved. But for some reason, he liked the intensity of his gaze, directed at him and him only. Alone in the dark, with only the two of them, Sova’s eyes focused on him for whatever reason. And the indiscernible expression he wore added to the fantasy.

Cypher discreetly shifted on the spot, trying to rid himself of his piqued interest. “You like to stare at me, Sova?” the spy said quietly.

“Are you admitting that you like staring at me?”

“You’re putting words in my mouth.”

“A lot of people stare at you. I don’t know why you’re singling me out specifically.”

“I’m not interesting enough to be stared at.”

“I could say the same about myself.” Which wasn’t true in Cypher’s case. There were a lot of, ahem, areas of Sova that were interesting to look at. “But between you and me, I’d say you’re a lot more intriguing.”

The train then left the tunnel. The cabin was still dark, and the glow of Sova’s eye was still the most prominent thing in the cabin. Whatever was outside was far less interesting than what Sova was looking at, apparently.

“Well, there are a lot of intriguing things about you too,” the spy said. “I don’t see how I’m special.”

“Don’t act dumb. We both know that’s not true.”

“How am I special? Is it the mystery? Is it the fact that you don’t know what I look like?”

“I don’t know a lot of things about you.”

“Well, you don’t know a lot of things about anyone. Viper’s pretty secretive too, but I don’t see you trying to uncover her secrets like you do to me.”

“Yes, and Viper doesn’t know much about me either,” Sova said dryly. “You do.”

“You said it yourself; I don’t know a lot of things about you too.”

“You know enough.”

“But not the fine details,” Cypher countered.

“You still know more than everyone, and that’s without my input too. I don’t know how much you know of me.”

“Well, I don’t know your love life.”

“Where did that come from?” Sova said, eyeing him.

“It was the first thing that came to mind! We are surrounded by couples. Quite literally too.” Their cabin was right between Chamber and Yoru’s, and Sage and Reyna’s. Fortunately, he hasn’t heard anything from either cabins. Either the walls covered up the sounds well, or they were simply keeping quiet. “I’d say it’s a pretty fitting topic.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Sova said, shooting him a glare, which only caused his stomach to do flips instead. “And I don’t see how my love life is any of your business.”

“Sore subject?”

“No.” Sova’s finger was toying with one of his hoodie strings. “Besides, I’m sure you already know about these things. There’s no point in repeating what you already know.”

“I don’t know the details,” he said. “Not every relationship and interaction is recorded, you know. Surely you’ve had someone in your life before.”

Sova narrowed his eyes on the spy, and the bed shifted as he adjusted his position. He didn’t believe him, which was fair. And Sova had no reason to tell Cypher about his love life. But the spy was curious. The idea has been planted in his head, and the spy wanted to know who managed to capture the hunter’s heart, if it was possible at all.

A tiny part of him wanted to know if he had a chance.

The hunter didn’t say anything, and he wasn’t narrowing his eyes at him anymore. Instead, he looked contemplative.

“I’ve only dated once,” Sova said, and Cypher was surprised that he even admitted anything in the first place. He kept his eyes on the spy, watching him for any reaction. “And it didn’t last too long. That’s it.”

“Oh, come on. There’s nothing more to the story?”

“No,” Sova said calmly. “It just didn’t work out. We had different aspirations; I was more focused on my career.”

“That’s something we have in common, I suppose.”

“That’s all you need to know.”

“That’s it?”

He made a face. “Not every relationship ends on an interesting note,” he said flatly. “A lot of things in life fizzle out instead of going out with a bang.”

Ouch. What was supposed to be a fun topic ended up being more depressing than he liked, to Cypher anyway. He found himself relating to his experience: having a relationship fizzle out due to different priorities, like his career. It ended up giving him a sore reminder rather than satisfaction.

Well played, he thought. It was unintentional, but it was a reminder nonetheless. “Not what you were hoping for?” Sova said, this time sounding amused. “I’m sure you’re used to disappointing information.”

“It’s not disappointing at all. I think it’s rather fitting of your person, actually,” Cypher said, quickly moving on.

“See? There’s nothing interesting about me after all,” Sova reiterated. 

“From your little tease earlier, I’d argue against that case,” he countered. “You have a side of you you’re hiding from me that you reveal when it conveniences you.”

“It was bound to happen one day,” he said matter-of-factly. “For someone who teases people all the time, you react differently when someone else does it back.”

“It’s not just ‘someone else.’ I never would’ve thought that you’d say something like that earlier,” Cypher clarified.

“So it’s me specifically?” he said, sounding very intrigued, and Cypher immediately regretted saying it. “Then I guess even you have your weaknesses.”

Goodness, why did Sova have to talk to him like that? With a low voice as if they were speaking in secrets, and that pointed stare that never truly left him since he sat down. It was a charged moment that only Cypher could feel, given the heat that curled in his abdomen, spreading all over his body.

If Sova could stop looking at him like some kind of prey, then that would be great. Maybe Sova was trying to be intimidating and unpredictable with his responses, but it was doing something else entirely to his body. The hunter had never done anything like this before to the spy, and his body was soaking up every bit of attention and word that Sova was giving him.

“You think your teasings are my weaknesses?” Cypher said lightheartedly, trying to calm his beating heart.

“In a way, yes. You keep bringing it up.”

“In a way?” he repeated.

“Well, it’s working, isn't it?”

Now it was Cypher’s turn to narrow his eyes at him. What did he mean by that? The roles have been reversed once more, with the hunter’s triumphant little smile and the spy’s flustered state. Not that he hadn’t been enjoying this side of Sova, but he’d rather not feel this way when he was still stuck with him for about six more hours.

“Fine. I liked it. I didn’t expect you to pull that stuff off,” the spy admitted. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, focusing on ridding himself of the heat that centered itself in his groin. Now really wasn’t the time to feel this way. “Was that what you wanted to hear?”

Sova stared at him oddly, his expression turning indiscernible once more. And Cypher stared back, not backing down, much like what the hunter was doing. Though the intensity of his gaze wasn’t doing him any good at all. “Yes,” he said, satisfied. Finally, he averted his eyes elsewhere, looking back outside the window. “Good talk, Cypher.”

Almost immediately, Cypher missed the attention. He didn’t know how he would cope for tonight, with a hard-on under his pants and a quick beating heart, all while sharing a bed with Sova tonight. He looked at the time for a distraction. It wasn’t even ten yet.

Maybe he should call it a night.

“I think I’m going to go to sleep now,” Cypher announced after a few minutes, and he stood from the bed.

“You’re going to sleep like that?” Sova said, gesturing at his uniform.

“Goodness, no. You know how uncomfortable it is to sleep with a toolbelt.”

He didn’t miss how Sova started watching him adjust his toolbelt, hearing its familiar clicks; feeling the weight of its contents. With a small smirk, he deliberately slowed down the process of removing his belt, having his fingers line the inside of the leather before unbuckling the clasps. Making sure that his own watching and intentions were discreet, he watched Sova eye his fingers as he finally took off the belt.

Then he proceeded to shrug off his coat, before taking his hat off and setting that aside too. He saw how Sova’s eyes trailed across his torso, jumping from his sleeved arms to his chest, and he couldn’t ignore the giddy feeling that flitted across his chest from the sight of Sova watching him. Cypher shot a glance down at the hunter’s joggers, feeling an odd sense of excitement when he saw his bulge.

“I thought you’d keep the coat on,” Sova commented. “Are those shoulder pads not separate?”

“They are, but I made it so that they could comfortably be taken off with the coat too,” Cypher said, and he innocently hung the coat on a hook behind the door. “Well then, scoot over. I’m going to sleep.”

“Sleep where the wall is,” he said. “I claim the open side.”

“Oh, fine. I’m too tired to argue.”

Kicking off his boots, Cypher practically crawled over Sova to reach the other end of the bed, as the hunter refused to move for him. He laid on his side, and he could feel Sova’s presence right next to him, his arm a mere few centimeters away. He inched away from him until he touched the wall, not just for Sova’s sake but for his as well.

He turned away so that his back faced the hunter, and he threw the blanket over his body. “Good night, Sova,” he said. Hopefully he could sleep his feelings away tonight.

Sova hummed in response. “Good night.”

— — —

Cypher was still awake.

Not long after Cypher called it a night, Sova also decided that it was time to catch some rest. After all, they’d be waking up at around three-thirty in the morning when the train reached their station, and it was past ten.

And so the two of them were lying in the same bed together tonight, with Sova already fast asleep, and Cypher, well, he was still very much wide awake. Again, he had no idea how much time had passed, and he wouldn’t be surprised if barely any time had passed at all.

He tried to go to sleep. He really did. But his body simply couldn’t rest when Sova was right next to him; when his proximity was so close. He tried to focus on anything else, literally anything else, just so that his head would stop focusing so much on the man beside him. He thought of the mission, which did little to capture his attention. He thought of the others, but again, it did nothing because it would direct him back to Sova.

He shuffled uncomfortably under the blanket, possibly for the sixth time tonight. The heat that settled hours ago refused to go away; while he had calmed himself down enough for tonight to be comfortable, it was still there. 

Cypher let himself lie there for who knew how long, letting the seconds and minutes tick by. And then he decided he had enough. The position he was lying in was starting to feel uncomfortable, and he turned over to the other side, facing— oh.

Sova’s back faced him, but he had taken his hoodie off before going to sleep. The shirt he was wearing was stretched across his broad back as he had an arm under his pillow. This was not helping his case at all, and now he was focusing on his toned arms before spotting the little inch of skin that peeked below his shirt.

Cypher bit the inside of his lip and looked away. Now wasn’t the time to ogle at Sova. The cabin was a little chilly, perfect for the man who grew up in the tundra. He seemed to be faring better than the spy was, as the blanket only covered his feet.

Cypher laid on his back and huddled deeper into the blanket, trying to get warmer, and he suppressed a shiver.

The mattress space beside him sank deeper, and suddenly Sova was turning over too. He pulled his arm from under the pillow in the process, and his other arm ended up on top of the spy.

Cypher stilled, and he swallowed thickly. All of a sudden, the room felt stuffy, suffocating, and his blanket was way too warm around his body. He could smell the faint remnants of Sova’s cologne, a smokey pine scent that did more harm to his overclocking system than good. The hunter had gotten close. Too close for comfort, and the spy believed that the two of them should separate to give each other some room. Give himself some room so he could breathe.

But he made no motion to move. He was acutely aware of the arm atop his chest; of the slight flex of his biceps, honed from years of military training and archery. He could hear his breathing, calm and steady, and he felt his body heat radiating from him. 

Sova’s warmth and the weight of his arm on his chest felt nice. It felt good. Cypher felt like he was in some dream, and he sighed slowly through his nose. Then the realization that Sova was a cuddler in bed dawned on him, with an arm under a pillow and the other over Cypher’s torso, and he couldn’t calm his beating heart no matter how hard he tried.

He swallowed thickly again, and he banked that knowledge in the back of his head for later. He decided to let himself relish this moment for just a little longer — one that would never happen again, and only happened due to chance and coincidence. And he closed his eyes, attempting to disregard the hard-on that returned and went to even out his breathing.

Then Cypher decided that it was enough. He didn’t want Sova to wake up with him in his arms, because who knew what would happen? Tonight was already a rollercoaster of events, and the spy would rather conserve whatever little bit of amicability they gained tonight.

He cautiously wrapped a hand around his wrist so he could move his arm away. He glanced at Sova’s face for any reaction, and he kept slowly removing his arm from his chest when he saw that he was still asleep.

Eventually, he managed to gently pry his arm off of his chest. He carefully tossed the blanket off his body to cool himself down as well. He could sleep well knowing that he did the right thing for both of them. Though Cypher would miss this moment forever, and he'd reminisce about it for the rest of his life. And it would be his little secret; he would spare Sova from teasing him about this moment.

Until Sova shifted beside him, and he adjusted his arm, so his hand was right by Cypher's shoulder. The mattress sank as the hunter used that arm to support himself up, and then he was on top of him, with his head down and his long blond hair framing his face. The spy tensed and inhaled sharply, and he looked down to see one of Sova’s knees situated between his legs.

“Sova?” Cypher whispered.

He could hear his blood rushing in his ears, and his breathing hitched further when Sova neared his neck. Cypher then felt something soft and warm brush against his covered neck, before he realized that, oh, Sova’s lips were mouthing the fabric.

“Sova—”

Instinctively, he exposed more of his neck, wondering what the hunter had in mind. Then he felt something harder — the unmistakable feeling of teeth against covered skin. Somehow, somehow, Sova managed to sink his teeth into his prize. The fabric of his mask pressed harshly against his skin, and Cypher let out a surprised gasp. 

“A-ah!” he stammered. His hands scrambled to hold onto something, and his fingers tightened around the hem of Sova’s shirt. Heat flushed all over his body. “Sova—”

The hunter brought his knee higher, a ghost of a touch that stoked the growing flame in the pit of his stomach and immediately shut him up. The familiar sense of need coiled up inside him, and he resisted the urge to give in.

A hand slithered to rest below Cypher's jaw, and Sova wasted no time to bite the straining tendon of the spy’s neck. Cypher sucked in a deep breath and screwed his eyes shut. The sharp pain that lingered when Sova pulled away went straight to his already straining erection, and he suppressed the urge to let out a whimper.

“Is this what you wanted from me?” Sova said quietly. “Is this what you’ve been hoping for?”

The spy opened his mouth to respond, but Sova decisively shifted his knee, applying a gentle yet firm pressure against his groin, and Cypher made a surprised noise. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, doubling down.

Sova removed his knee, and already Cypher mourned for the loss of the feeling. He held his grip on his shirt, afraid that he would pull away; that he would do what Cypher had been doing the whole night: be a tease. It was hypocritical of him, and he knew he deserved the same treatment, but couldn’t a man still be disappointed?

“Did you really think I wouldn’t have a clue of what you were doing?” Sova murmured, his voice dangerously low. Goodness, he was so incredibly close to him. His voice was smooth and deep in his ear, and Cypher gulped. “The things you’ve been saying? Your blatant staring?”

“I’ve always teased and stared at you,” he excused.

“But not like this. Never like this before.”

The answer in the spy’s throat died off when Sova rolled his hips against him. His erection pressed against Cypher’s thigh, sending him a very clear message of what the hunter was feeling tonight, and he arched his back to chase after it.

“You weren’t supposed to know,” Cypher whispered. 

“Then it means you weren’t careful enough,” he said, rolling his hips again.

He swallowed thickly. “As if you played no part in this. You were watching me get ready for bed.”

“And you made a show off of it,” he countered. “Come on, nobody takes forever to unbuckle a belt. You didn’t tell me to look away. And your pants said otherwise.”

“Yours did too.” With that, it was Cypher’s turn to raise his knee against Sova’s equally hard erection, feeling it against his thigh. He watched his Adam’s apple bob, and the hunter shuddered above him.

“You riled me up. You started it.”

Sova straddled him, and in that moment, both of their hard-ons were lined against each other; their hips slotted together as if they were made to do so. Despite the clothes, he could feel his heat radiating from it, and his cock twitched inside his pants.

“This is… a two-way interaction,” he groaned, arching his back to get some friction going.

“Which you — ah — which you started.” Sova did an experimental roll of his hips in response, and oh, did it shoot sparks up Cypher’s spine. They both moaned quietly, and the butterflies in his stomach were going haywire. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were projecting in your teasing.”

“I-I was not.”

“Just admit it. I can stop this, you know.”

Cypher’s eyes went wide. “No! No, no, no. Please,” he stammered, possibly too desperately. But he didn’t care at this point. Anything to keep Sova on top of him like this. He was already in such a compromising situation. Surely nothing more could be added. “Fine. Yes, I’ve been wanting this. Yes, perhaps I was projecting. Happy?”

“Quite,” Sova chuckled, low and amused. “Honesty was all I’ve ever wanted from you, Amir.”

As if for reward, the hunter started rutting against him, gracing the both of them with much-needed relief. He rocked his hips in a steady rhythm, dragging his clothed erection alongside Cypher’s length, and the two of them exchanged their own sounds of pleasure after finally, finally giving in to their shared temptations.

Sova pressed his face against his neck, and despite the fabric, the spy could feel his hot breath puffing through. Short, ragged pants escaped from both of them, little noises stifled with fabric and skin. One of Cypher’s hands went to grope the hunter’s ass, the other slipping inside Sova’s shirt.

His skin was so warm against his palm, and he trailed up, exposing more of his chest and back. He felt up his toned physique, to which Sova made no protest. In fact, he moved just a little faster, taking his roaming hands as encouragement.

When the hunter proceeded to nip the crook of his neck, the spy’s body faltered beneath him in response, and he let out a quiet whimper, his fingertips digging into his skin. The hand under his shirt pushed the fabric to his shoulder blades, exposing most of his back. He kept his hand there and the other on his ass, Sova’s muscles flexing as he continued to rock his hips against him.

The warmth, the weight of Sova’s body on top of his, the jolts of pleasure from grinding against one another — it was all too much. Cypher’s head was swirling from the stimulation, and the dying scent of Sova’s cologne was heady. He buried his nose against Sova’s shoulder, much like what the hunter was doing, wanting to feel more of him and smell more of him, even if it dizzied him.

He soaked in every tiny sound that came from the hunter, his muffled moans and groans, the occasional high-pitched release of breath. He relished the vibrations that came with every noise, wanting to pull him closer than possible, to feel them within his very soul.

Cypher’s mask was strikingly uncomfortable. It was way too uncomfortable for his face, which was hot and red from what was happening. He wanted it off so he could breathe— no, he wanted all of his clothes off so he could feel all of Sova tonight; to feel his bare skin against his own, having Sova nip and bite all of the flesh he wanted, to dig his fingernails to add more scars to Sova’s already scarred body.

If it felt this good with clothes on, Cypher couldn’t imagine how much better it would feel without them. He was so close to fulfilling the dirty fantasies he’d imagined over the past few years.

But not tonight. No, not tonight.

A broken moan coming from the hunter grounded him back to reality, taking him out of his daze. He could feel it now; he could feel the desperation coming from Sova, rutting against him as if his life depended on it. And Cypher was too, bucking up against him in return, grinding their hips together, trying to keep up with his pace.

Sova’s breath was hot against his neck, his mouth agape as he shamelessly panted and made quiet noises of pleasure. His mouth was so warm, and Cypher wondered how they would feel wrapped around his cock; how his tongue would feel against the sensitive flesh. Would he use just a little bit of teeth, like how he would bite Cypher’s neck as if he owned him? Would he have used his hands too, stroking him while he sucked him off?

Would he have taken Cypher deep into his throat? Could he?

Would he touch himself while he did so?

The image of Sova on his knees with his lips around him was enough to nearly tip him over the edge, but he quickly dispelled that thought before he could. He wasn’t going to rely on his imagination to get him to come, not when Sova was literally on top of him.

“Sasha,” he whispered in desperation.

The telltale signs of an orgasm were pooling in, and the two of them were chasing that same high, riding up and up and up to reach their climax. Years of pining and arousal had finally led Cypher to this moment, and for once, he let himself lose himself completely. Tonight, he was listening to his body rather than his head, all rational thoughts out of the window as Sova seemingly did the same.

Then Sova stopped, and the spy nearly cried. He was so incredibly close; it was as if the hunter knew he was about to come.

“Why?” Cypher mumbled, trying to keep his voice steady. He tried not to express his disappointment, but Sova was smarter than that. He definitely knew what he was doing. “Why’d you stop?”

Sova said nothing. He pulled away from his neck and sat up on his lap, the shirt slipping back down while he ran a hand through his hair. There it was again: that faint glow of his right eye in the dark, though this time through half-lidded eyes. Cypher stared at him, his mouth agape as he caught his breath, and his hands went to grip the hunter's hips.

A thousand thoughts ran through Cypher’s mind as he wondered what Sova was going to do. Then his eyes widened when he saw Sova take his shirt off. He tossed it haphazardly to the side, nearly toppling over the toolbelt and hat on the side table.

Cypher couldn’t help but gape as he revealed his toned figure to him — to him — and he wasted no time admiring the muscles he never had the chance to fully appreciate. He looked up at Sova staring down at him, and the spy blushed immensely at the view.

“You’re staring,” Sova teased, keeping a straight face.

“You’re attractive,” Cypher said earnestly, not caring how blunt his answer was. “You… I’m not taking anything off.”

“Oh, I know.”

Sova raised slightly from his lap, kneeling at a certain height as he untied the strings of his joggers. Cypher’s heart hammered against his ribs while he watched, and he noticed that he was pulling off the same thing the spy did to him with the toolbelt: tugging on the strings in a slow, deliberate manner, thumbing the inside of the elastic with his thumb before pulling down.

“Tease…” the spy whispered softly, earning him a smirk from Sova.

Cypher’s hands never left his hips, even when Sova pulled down enough of his joggers to expose his cock. He let out a quiet gasp at the sight, flushed pink and achingly stiff with precome beading at the tip, and his eyes darted at the hunter’s face for any adverse reactions. But no, all he did was stare with the same look he bore when the train passed through the tunnel; from their conversation before they went to bed. 

There was something in the way Sova was looking at him that made his abdomen turn again; the way his hungry eyes were staring down at on him. And Cypher finally understood the indiscernible look he wore earlier.

Sova wrapped his hand around his cock and started stroking himself, his eyes not leaving him. Cypher watched him do so, watching him twist his wrist and tighten the hold around his shaft; seeing his thumb rub over his precome to give himself some lubrication. He hovered over him, his head just over his own, and he murmured, “You always did like to stare, did you? You never denied my statement earlier.”

The spy’s cock jumped from his words, and Sova smiled a slight smile when he felt him twitch against his ass. The hunter then lowered himself, letting go of himself as he went back to the same position he was in earlier. Cypher could feel the outline of his cock even more now that it was exposed, pressing against his own bulge, and he swore that he could come from this alone if Sova wasn’t going to do anything soon.

“We’re going to keep doing what we were doing, yes?” he whispered in his ear.

Wallahi, the spy was done for.

Cypher shuddered, and he wrapped an arm around Sova’s shoulder while tangling the other hand into his hair. Pressing his face against the spy’s neck once more, he started to roll his hips, quickly settling back into the rhythm they were in just before they stopped.

That delicious friction returned, and, still sensitive from earlier, he felt it immediately. He could feel the flex of his muscles with every rock of his hips, and Cypher had desperately wished he could just take off his clothes and feel his skin on his.

Knowing that Sova’s exposed cock was slotted between the two of them as he desperately rutted against him again, the pressure in Cypher’s abdomen was building up at an alarming pace, heightening without warning. He could feel the slight dampness seeping into his pants as precome leaked from the hunter, and Cypher groaned quietly.

He wondered if there was a noticeable difference in doing it this way: with Sova’s cock exposed and Cypher’s still clothed. Maybe it was more comfortable since there was nothing holding him back anymore; the sensitive ache was finally getting some proper relief. Maybe something about the scenario turned the hunter on further, being able to pleasure Cypher like this without exposing him at all, to unravel him without pulling out a single thread.

But those thoughts quickly melted away when Sova whined against his neck after a certain thrust from the spy, an unexpected high-pitched noise that went straight to his cock, and the hunter held him tighter to muffle the noise. Sova breathed heavily, catching his breath and breathing in Cypher’s scent at the same time, as did the spy.

His rutting was erratic now as he neared the end of his chase. However, the little noise did enough to push Cypher over the brink, and the hold on Sova’s hair and shoulders tightened.

“Sasha,” he gasped, his back arching. “Sasha—”

“Me too, Amir. Me too,” he groaned softly. “Ah— Amir…”

Tensing up, Cypher threw his head back into his pillow, and his orgasm crashed over him, screwing his eyes shut as he came inside of his pants with a series of exhales, not wanting to make a single noise. He was probably pressing bruises against the hunter’s upper back right now, but Sova never commented on how tight he was clinging onto him. Maybe he even liked it.

Sova followed soon after, grinding against him once, twice, and he held Cypher close, burrowing himself closer against the crook of his neck as he came between them. Then he bit hard as he tried to muffle the moan threatening to escape him, causing Cypher to jerk from the pain, and the spy had to physically stop himself from crying out loud, reminding himself that they were still on a train and that he had neighbours around him.

The two of them laid there for a few moments, reeling from their orgasms and catching their breaths. Cypher’s chest rose and fell in quick intervals, one, to recover from coming, and two, to possibly alleviate the pain of Sova’s bite.

But it didn’t do anything against the latter. The spy instead focused on the hunter on top of him. He could feel his beating heart, the warm flush of his skin, and the gradual slowing of his breathing as he came down from his high.

Sova then pressed a soft kiss against the spot he bit when he came. An oddly sensual gesture after such an intense and filthy experience, though Cypher welcomed it all the same.

“Sorry for biting,” he apologized. “I didn’t hurt you too much, did I?”

“I would’ve done something if you did,” Cypher mumbled. “I really didn’t mind it. Even if the last one hurt more.”

Sova then got off of him. The spy felt cold now that the heat source was gone, and he immediately missed the feeling of Sova’s weight on him and his face by his neck. The hunter stood from the bed and put his shirt back on before going to his luggage to take something out.

“You made a mess,” Cypher said, pointing out the obvious and tutting to himself.

“Mm, yes, yes, I got it.” He went over to Cypher to wipe it off with some wet wipes. “I suggest you change.”

“Hah, you still want to see me out of my clothes, huh?”

“Who doesn’t?” Sova said casually. “Seriously though, go change, Amir. It’s not fun sleeping in stained clothing.”

“Yes, yes, I will if you leave.”

With a playful roll of his eyes, Sova left the cabin with the used-up wipes. Feeling the effects of tiredness, Cypher sluggishly forced himself out of bed to lock the door and change his clothing.

Then he unlocked the door and plopped right back down. He waited for a few minutes for Sova to come back, if he was going to. But sleep quickly overtook him, and before he knew it, he passed out before he could catch Sova coming back.

He stirred awake briefly to feel a set of strong, toned arms wrap around him in bed, enveloping him with the familiar warmth he had grown used to tonight. And his eyes fluttered closed once again.

— — —

At around three-thirty in the morning, the train had stopped at their station. A good number of people hopped off at this stop, including Cypher and the others. All of them were back in their usual uniforms now, much to Cypher’s disappointment, because he was very much enjoying Sova and his gray joggers.

Yoru yawned behind them as they trailed the station with their luggage in tow. Chamber and Sova were in front of the others, leading them through the station so they could drive off to the hotel. There was no conversation while they walked, keeping quiet and trying to stay awake.

On the ride to the hotel, Yoru called shotgun while Chamber drove. Sage and Reyna took the middle seats, leaving Cypher and Sova in the back. The others may have expected them to sit on opposite ends, but they didn’t say anything when Sova decided to sit next to the spy.

And if the others saw them sleeping on each other’s heads and shoulders, they didn’t say anything about it either.