Title: Rules of Engagement A/N: A huge thank you to daera23, nova88 and becca_radcgg for their beta work. |
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He who has a thousand friends has not a friend to spare,
Impressed and then just as quickly, a little bit scared. It occurred to him for the first time as he stared at the empty seat between them, that he was truly alone here. It was just him and Sark. There was no back up. They were thirty thousand feet in the air, and there were a hundred civilians on board. He was now sitting across from the man who seemed to have a personal vendetta against him, and no moral compunction about exacting it whatever way possible. Vaughn took a deep breath as his heart hammered in his throat and a surge of adrenaline coursed through his veins. He was getting used to the fight or flight response from his body, especially after all the recent missions, but he was still a ways away from being able to control it. Trying to ignore the sweat on his palms and not call attention to them by wiping them on his pants, he clenched them instead and forced himself back to the matter at hand. Sark was staring at him intently. “Cheers,” Vaughn said finally, somehow finding the courage not to look away as he watched Sark’s eyes travel across him. “Mr. Vaughn,” Sark nodded, and Vaughn felt a shiver run down his spine as Sark’s gaze lingered on him. Giving himself a mental shake, he watched out of the corner of his eye as Sark looked down at the newspaper in his hands while biting his lower lip. All of a sudden, time seemed to slow down and for no reason that Vaughn could understand, he found himself wondering if that’s why it always looked crooked. Only belatedly, after the moment had passed, did he think to wonder why Sark had looked away to begin with. His wandering thoughts were interrupted when Sark looked back up, and the impenetrable mask was firmly back in place once more. “Tell me, you wouldn’t happen to know an eight letter word for arrogant, would you?” Vaughn almost laughed. Would have almost laughed, if he didn’t feel terribly unbalanced and worried that his small laugh would turn into hysterics. But then, finally pondering the small crack he had witnessed in Sark’s veneer, Vaughn wasn’t sure if Sark wasn’t feeling a little unbalanced too. They shot each other, they hit each other, but never once did one of them yield to the other. Never once was there a clear winner between them. This now was different though. The hackles were raised, but so far neither of them had engaged. They just sat there, looking at each other, observing and evaluating; almost as if they were playing a game of chicken to see who would concede first. All the while, the humming of the tension in his body seemed to be playing a strange kind of background music for the encounter. And as they sat there staring, Vaughn found that with no bloodlust clouding his eyes, Sark looked strong, cunning and very in much control. With another shiver running though his body and a startling palpitation of his heart, Vaughn also happened to notice that Sark’s eyes were blue. In some part of his mind, Vaughn realized that he must have known that before, but he guessed he’d never really appreciated it. Perhaps he was noticing it now because they were especially blue in contrast with the dark black of his dilated pupils. Hiding the thrill that the idea of making Sark nervous brought to him and immediately clamping down on his traitorous thoughts, Vaughn lashed out without finesse. “Do exactly as I tell you, or I’ll kill you.” Sark smirked, but didn’t say a word. He simply rose gracefully from his seat, while Vaughn gestured towards the back of the plane. As Vaughn followed closely behind him, he couldn’t help but notice that Sark moved like a cat; calmly, arrogantly, and with purpose, even where no purpose could be seen. “Right here,” Vaughn indicated, grabbing Sark’s shoulder to stop him and turned him towards the small airplane washroom. And though Sark was wearing a thick jacket, Vaughn could feel the bony hardness of his shoulder blade underneath it. The feeling of bone caught him off guard for a moment but between grabbing his shoulder, and the time Sark turned, Vaughn had only a second to acknowledge the thought before opening the door. He motioned for Sark to enter with a quick shake of his head. “Get in.” Sark complied without protest except for a small look of surprise that briefly graced his face as he watched Vaughn come in after him. But Vaughn noticed it and catalogued it as another small break in his facade. Shutting the door, Vaughn quickly understood what the surprised look had been for as another surge of adrenaline course through his body. He looked around and realized that the small confines forced them violently into each other’s personal spaces. It seemed that the hackles were raised, and now the stakes were set. He fumbled in his pocket for the handcuffs, grateful for the distraction. “Doesn’t it bother you?” Sark voice cut like ice. “What’s that?” Vaughn asked as he looked up after attaching one handcuff onto Sark’s arm and the other one onto the handicapped bar. Sark was staring at his face again. Or rather…he was staring at his lips? Vaughn briefly thought that there were many things that bothered him about their current predicament but he pushed those thoughts aside as he tried not to pay attention to the warmth of Sark’s skin as he checked to make sure the cuff was secure. “The bomb maker arranges for a meeting on a plane and then doesn’t show up? I don’t know about you, but that concerns me.” Vaughn clenched his hand to his side as Sark’s comment brought him back to reality. But looking back at Sark’s face, Vaughn’s mind immediately oscillated to the issue of Sark’s warm skin. Warm skin, and eyes with large pupils that trailed across his face. The conflict between Sark’s voice, slightly flushed expression, and the steel in his eyes gave the hint of a man at war with his own countenance. Unfortunately, the same look that was making his stomach tighten was also ripping him apart. It was cruel and haughty, and it seemed to tell him that Sark knew exactly what he was thinking. And the smirk that curled his lips told Vaughn that Sark knew, handcuffs or not, who exactly was in control of this encounter. Regardless of any of the perceived weakness, Sark was apparently in fine form. Vaughn turned him around so that his handcuffed wrist pulled awkwardly around his body and started to pat him down. Sark’s jacket was loose around his body, but aside from his ticket, passport and some folded bills, Vaughn didn’t find a weapon. Bringing his hands up, under his jacket, and patting his back and chest, Vaughn was disturbed to note the hard muscles he felt underneath. Muscles that flexed and moved slightly, when his hands lingered a little too long in one place. Moving his hands down to the waist of his pants, Vaughn brought them around and found something hard pressed against the small of Sark’s back. Reaching underneath his shirt, Vaughn tried to ignore the softness of Sark’s skin and concentrated on removing the 9mm pistol tucked between his skin and his pants. With Vaughn’s own pistol in his holster underneath his sports jacket, Vaughn tucked Sark’s gun in his pocket. “Found what you were looking for Mr. Vaughn?” Sark drawled bitterly. Vaughn continued with the pat down, quickly checking to make sure that Sark didn’t have further weapons hidden in his pants, along his legs or near his groin. After a reaching around and patting down near Sark’s crotch, Vaughn stepped back, allowing Sark to turn back around. “No, not really. I was expecting much more from you,” Vaughn said, pleased to finally be able to score a jibe. This time though, Sark didn’t bother hiding his gaze that was looking him up and down. “Well really Mr. Vaughn. Then you need to know what to look for. Just because it’s something you’ve never seen before doesn’t mean that it isn’t extremely effective.” Point nulled and void. Vaughn narrowed his eyes in anger, grabbed Sark’s collar and slammed him up against the sink. “You think you’re so much better than everyone else, don’t you?” But Sark’s smirk remained even as he ran the tip of his tongue across his bottom lip, staring at Vaughn all the while. “No, Mr. Vaughn, I think I’m even better than that. And I have a feeling that you’re inclined to agree with me.” Vaughn gripped the edge of his collar even tighter, but with Sark already pushed up against the counter, there was nowhere else to go. With their faces only inches apart, Vaughn breathed in Sark’s cologne. It was a musky, woody, spicy scent that made him want to bury his head in it. It was then that Vaughn realized that maybe Sark was right where he wanted to be. And if that was so, then the rules had rapidly changed, putting them all on uncertain footing. Realizing the gamble, Vaughn forced himself to take a deep breath as he considered the options. Eventually, after a second deep breath where it felt like the scent of the cologne was starting to make him intoxicated, and the awkward silence between them was making him antsy, Vaughn decided to do the very thing that Sark had been daring him to do with his stare, and taunts for the last five minutes. As soon as he actually made the decision though, Vaughn discovered that perhaps he had actually been waiting to do this ever since he sat down next to Sark in First Class. He leaned over and kissed Sark squarely on the mouth. At first, Vaughn was taken aback when he realized how warm Sark’s lips were against his. Perhaps the same part of his mind that had been waiting to do this, had also pictured his lips to be cold and hard, just like the rest of him. Or maybe it was just that he’d never really pictured Sark as a person before; one that had shoulder blades, warm skin, smooth muscles and soft lips. Perhaps in some part of his mind, he’d just assumed that Sark was always above the normal trappings of humanity. Instead, as Sark opened his mouth and pulled Vaughn further into kiss, Vaughn quickly concluded that perhaps he had underestimated him. Especially when Sark’s warm tongue met his and Vaughn was forced to realize that Sark tasted like the wine he’d been drinking. Vaughn immediately pulled back as a moment of panic overtook him. The scents and the tastes were making him feel dizzy but scanning Sark’s face, Vaughn saw that the smirk that was still there played in direct conflict with the smoky blue of his eyes. “What’s wrong Mr. Vaughn? Doesn’t your wife know how to kiss you?” Vaughn clenched his fist, the anger and lust mixing in together. Sark was arrogant, cocky, infuriating, and deadly on the surface. And though Vaughn was now relatively sure that some of that was a pretense, part of the elaborate make up, he couldn’t be sure how far down the act went. His anger was also enough to remind him that there was a battle going on here, even if there were no guns involved. “You know nothing about my wife.” Sark just smiled and shrugged, bringing his free hand up to mockingly caress Vaughn’s cheek. “Maybe she just doesn’t let you tie her up, is that it?” Sark jangled the chain of the handcuffs. “I can understand that. It takes a sort of deviant mind to get off on bondage, but I’m willing to play along.” Vaughn swallowed roughly, feeling suddenly dirty and knowing that’s what Sark wanted. He backed away, trying to escape from the trap he’d walked right into but it was too late. Sark was pushing him up against the wall, even with his left arm still bound to the side. For some reason, Sark had changed the rules on them and suddenly Vaughn wasn’t sure if this was a game he could play. Sark was too good and there were too many rules he was willing to break to get what he wanted. Before he could gather his bearings, Vaughn felt a warm, slick tongue lick along his jaw line. “Did Sydney like to be tied up, Mr. Vaughn?” Vaughn pushed Sark back and slammed him against the counter again. “This is not a game you’re going to win, Sark.” Sark’s laughter made Vaughn’s skin crawl and suddenly Vaughn found that he was sick and tired of Sark’s superiority. The adrenaline was starting to make him feel queasy, but pushing it aside and gathering his courage, Vaughn realized that if this was a game, then he could play it as well. He’d managed to keep up with Sark in every other encounter they had so far. He could force himself to adapt to these new rules as well. In fact, Vaughn realized as he was staring at Sark’s kiss swollen lips, that the best way to beat an enemy was to do what they least expected of you. So far, Sark was in complete control of this situation. All Vaughn had to do was find a way to turn the tables. With a smooth, quick movement and a violence he wasn’t quite ready to admit to, he ripped open Sark’s shirt; sending a few of the button’s flying. “Fuck Vaughn!” Sark snarled looking down at his shirt. “That was Armani.” Vaughn finally smirked back and tried to ignore the thrill that his change of tactics brought him. Leaning forward and bringing his lips back up to Sark’s, he could feel the man tense underneath him. However, that didn’t stop Sark from opening his mouth and allowing his tongue inside. Vaughn brought one of his hands inside Sark’s open shirt and found his nipple hard. Rubbing it with the tips of his fingers, Vaughn continued his assault until they were both panting. Sark made a move to shift into a more comfortable position, but his hand tugged angrily against the cuff. “Take your shoes off,” Vaughn commanded. “I can’t.” Sark replied, a little dazed but with a smile twisting his lips. “They’re Italian leather. I can’t just step out of them. You’ll need to untie the laces.” Vaughn looked down at the cramped space around their feet. Sure enough, Sark’s shoes were fancy leather dress shoes, and had small laces on top. Looking back up to Sark’s face and seeing the familiar haughty look return to his features, Vaughn conceded the round and quickly bent down to untie them. He kept telling himself that there was something to losing the battle but winning the war. Bending forward to ensure that his cheek rubbed against Sark’s crotch, Vaughn untied the shoe laces and took them off one at a time. “Now take off your pants,” Vaughn said standing back up. He was disappointed to see that Sark’s demeanor hadn’t changed. He even managed to look aloof as he undid his belt and let his pants fall casually to the floor. Except of course of his accelerated breathing. While maintaining eye contact, Vaughn casually reached for the waist of Sark’s underwear and pulled it back so he could peak inside. Vaughn almost sighed in relief when he saw that Sark was already half hard. Sark could accuse him of being deviant, but he was enjoying this as well. Ridding Sark of his underwear and standing between his thighs, an idea dawned in Vaughn’s mind. With a smirk of his own, Vaughn pushed Sark against the counter until he was being bent backwards. Then, leaning forward against Sark’s chest so that his mouth could tickle Sark’s ear, Vaughn whispered into it, “I’m going to fuck you until I wipe that smirk off your face. Do you understand me?” Sark let go a deep and throaty laugh, mocking him again. Vaughn opened Sark’s shirt even wider so that he could play with his nipples. Pinching them lightly, Vaughn shifted so that his body was no longer rubbing against Sark’s erection. The only contact they had now was Vaughn’s breath in his ear and his fingers toying with Sark’s nipples. “And I’m going to keep teasing you, until you beg me to take you.” Sark half turned his head, his fingers lazily tapping against the sink. “Then we’re going to be in here a long time, aren’t we?” Vaughn licked his ear and smiled as Sark shivered. “I don’t think so.” Vaughn whispered in Sark’s ear. “Not when I tell you how I’m going to get down on my knees and take your dick in my mouth. How I’m going to lick you and suck you until you want to scream. Wouldn’t you like to see me on my knees in front of you?” Sark groaned as the words tickled his ear, despite his perfect control. Vaughn grinned and continued, enjoying his chance to taunt. “Or maybe I won’t suck you off, Sark. Maybe I’ll just stand here and tell you about how I imagine it would feel like to grab your dick in my hands.” Sark shifted his body in an attempt to rub himself against Vaughn’s, but Vaughn moved away again, the smile even bigger on his face. “I want you to imagine me tracing my mouth all the way down this perfect little body of yours. I want you to imagine how it would feel when I stop and bite your nipples. You like it when I’m rough with them, don’t you?” Vaughn flicked one of his nipples hard with his fingers. Sark moaned softly. “Do you like it when I talk dirty to you?” Sark found Vaughn’s lower arm just and grabbed him by the wrist. Vaughn suddenly found himself overwhelmed by the desire to grind up against him and the panic started to bubble inside of him again. He wasn’t sure when this had stopped being just about subduing a terrorist and started being a personal competition between the two of them but Vaughn suspected that had happened a long time ago. This was just the cumulation of all their antagonism allowing them to take their rivalry to a whole new level. So now, when Vaughn realized that all he wanted was to touch all of Sark’s flesh, he rationalized it that of course he would. That was Sark’s plan. His only option was to make Sark want him even more. Vaughn forced himself to take a deep breath. His voice sounded hoarse and raspy to his ears, but he managed to continue. “I bet you do. I bet you get off on me whispering about how I’d like to see your eyes glaze over when I feel how hard you are with my hands. How I could feel you getting even harder as I fondle you. Are you hard for me yet?” There was a moment’s pause before Sark nodded “Do you want me touch your dick, Sark?” Sark nodded against the side of Vaughn’s face again. “Do you want me to get down on my knees and feel how hard you’re getting with my tongue? My mouth is warm. I could take you all the way in. I could suck you dry if I wanted to.” Sark gave a guttural noise from his throat and let his head hang back further. “I would lick it and suck it and squeeze your balls. And you’re going to be begging me to keep going so that you can come. And I know that you’re going to try and stop yourself from screaming with that perfect control you have, but you won’t be able to.” Vaughn forced himself to breath again, as he started to get the hang of it. “Not when I wet my finger in my mouth and slide it up your ass. I already know how tight and warm you’re going to be. I bet you don’t let anybody stick anything in your ass, but you’re going to beg me to do it. And as I move my finger around, sliding it in and out of your ass, with my mouth on your cock, you’re going to start to beg. You’ll beg me to put my dick inside of you instead of sucking you off, so that you can feel something bigger than just my finger. You’re going to beg and I’m going to shove my dick in you, over and over again until you scream.” Sark quickly turned his face towards Vaughn, catching him by surprise, and brought his free hand up to cup Vaughn’s face. With no mercy, Sark quickly captured Vaughn’s lips with his own and tried to suck them into his mouth. The intimacy of kissing though was just too much and threatened to dissolve his remaining strength so Vaughn pushed him away. Sark seemed to take it as part of the tease though because he practically hissed in frustration. Vaughn leaned back off of Sark and lifted Sark’s legs up so that he had to take his weight on his arms. But with one hand still handcuffed to the bar, Sark had to use his elbow and his other hand to hold himself up against the sink. As Vaughn cradled Sark’s legs and wrapped them around his waist, Sark planted his feet against the wall and used it to brace himself. Vaughn bent forward and took Sark’s cock in his mouth. Vaughn smiled as he felt Sark’s erection harden even more and, taking a moment to look up, Vaughn noticed that Sark’s eyes flickered and he held his mouth in a thin line of frustration. It was as if Sark wanted to allow himself to enjoy the sensations, but he couldn’t as he recalled the stakes. As Vaughn continued to suck and lick and rub, Sark face started to contort in tension and pleasure. But never a scream. Never really a break in his composure. Vaughn removed his mouth and watched Sark clench his jaw at the loss of warmth. True to his promise, Vaughn paused and stuck his finger in his mouth and then rubbed the cleft of Sark’s ass with it. Sark’s eyes flew open as he probed Sark’s opening and practically bulged out of his sockets when Vaughn slipped his finger inside. Vaughn gave him a moment to get used to the sensations before he started moving it around and sliding it in and out. With his other hand still stroking Sark’s dick, he kept his eyes on Sark’s face as he watched Sark’s finally lose whatever remaining self-control he possessed. Sliding his finger out and standing back up, Vaughn leaned against Sark’s chest. “Do you want me to put my dick in you, Sark?” Vaughn asked with a hard tone. He meant it as a challenge and Sark knew it. “Yes.” Sark replied huskily. Vaughn smirked. “Say please.” Sark glared at him until Vaughn grabbed Sark’s cock and started rubbing it again with his hands. Then, Sark let his head fall back for a moment before Vaughn stopped and waited. Finally Sark raised his head and looked at him. “Please, Mr. Vaughn. I want you to fuck me.” Vaughn raised his eyebrow skeptically as if in disbelief. Sark’s face twisted in frustration and agony. “Either fuck me or kill me, but for god’s sake do something!” Vaughn smiled and leaned across him for the hand moisturizer that sat near the soap dispenser. Taking a generous amount and coating his dick with it, Vaughn then turned back and brought the tip of his cock inside Sark. Sark’s teeth clenched at the intrusion, but he knew enough to eventually force himself to relax. And as Vaughn felt him slowly start to unclench his muscles he was able to slide the rest of the way in. He had been right. Sark was tight and warm. And it felt like nothing he had ever experienced before. Thrusting in and out, he watched as Sark’s hand clenched tight against the side of the cabinet until his knuckles were white. Vaughn quickly brought up his still slick hand and grasped Sark’s cock. Matching his hand movements with his thrusts, Vaughn quickly felt Sark harden even further in his hands. And as the sensations and the accumulated tension finally snapped something within him, Vaughn started pounding into him. Sark tensed up and, with a guttural groan, arched his body forward, coming with a spasm between them. Watching Sark’s face and feeling the tremors along Sark’s dick, Vaughn lost whatever remaining control he had and exploded inside of him. Breathless, messy and sated, they stared at each other for a few moments with no pretenses between them. Slowly, as their breathing returned to normal, Vaughn slid out of him and Sark dropped his feet to his floor. Vaughn leaned down to pick his pants up but when he straightened up again he glanced into Sark’s face, and felt the bitter taste of failure. There was no clear winner here. Sark boasted a satisfied smile as he turned and grabbed some paper towels to clean himself up. Sark caught Vaughn’s gaze and laughed. “I must thank you Mr. Vaughn. I can’t say I’ve ever been a fan of the facilities in airplanes, but now I can look at them with a whole new light.” Vaughn cursed himself for his failure and felt a sudden desire to get away from him. Doing up his belt, with quick, exact movements and keeping his eyes as far away as possible from the source of his failure, Vaughn tucked his shirt in and ran his fingers through his hair. Swallowing his pride, he risked a quick glance up to Sark’s face, only to find him looking back. Not able to read the expression on his face, and wanting more than anything to sit down and get away from the tension for a moment, Vaughn opened the door. With the bitter taste of defeat in his mouth, he stopped the first flight attendant that he saw and motioned to the door. “Lock this up.” ~~~ Sark stared at the closing door as Vaughn left the washroom, not bothering to hide the roll of his eyes and the shake of his head. He had to give Agent Vaughn some credit, there wasn’t anyone else left alive that had ever made him beg for anything. Sark sighed as he rubbed his chained wrist. He was still raw and breathless and though he would have thought the release would have sated him completely, he felt far from completely satisfied. It was apparent to him that he was going to have to teach Agent Vaughn the finer points of derision, tenacity and bondage next time. Maybe it was even worth letting him win once or twice, just to build up his confidence. After all, it did no good to have an opponent who gave up in the face of victory. Sark smiled at the new turn of their relationship. Even though Agent Vaughn’s wife was a decent lay, there was something altogether more decadent about destroying the Boy Scout’s honor and bringing him down to the level of debauchery and corruption that he existed in. Because this was a game he was ultimately going to win, and Agent Vaughn was eventually going to be destroyed, even if by all accounts he was still going to live. Sark smiled softly to himself as he remembered the feel of Vaughn’s lips on his. Such dallying in memories and desires was dangerous for him, but then he’d always enjoyed a good challenge. And a challenge was only made thus, if it had the possibility of destroying himself as well. Destroy or be destroyed. Corrupt or be corrupted. Either one of the options had to occur eventually. Such was the nature of their game. In the mean time, Sark went about getting dressed again. His shirt was barely salvageable with half the buttons missing but as long as he kept his jacket on, no one would be the wiser. Looking around the cramped washroom though, Sark decided that next time, they would have to spring for better accommodations. That there would be a next time, Sark was positive, regardless of his current captivity. 1/1
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