You're His Rival

One

The rain slamming down on the concrete made visibility worse than dog shit. Keegan grunted, adjusting his position on the rocky face of a hill, sliding his scope dial back to try to get a better visual on the target.

His clothes were soaked through and he fought off the shivers that threatened to roll through him. Even though this was just a training exercise, he couldn't afford to give his position away to his favorite rival sniper — you.

You were too good, and one tiny slip up could cost him everything if you caught it.

Which you always did.

He fucking hated that.

Not because it bruised his ego, but because you were insufferable when you beat him at anything. The last time you'd won a spar against him, you reminded him for a solid week.

Meanwhile, you were solidly in your fabricated sniper's roost further up the hill about a kilometer from where Keegan was, enjoying the fern and timber cover you'd made to keep yourself warm and your rifle dry.

Even though the visibility was shit, you could still see the target well enough from that location to take your measurements and adjust accordingly.

You pushed your button for comms, making sure Keegan could hear you in his earbud, "Tell me you at least made shelter, Russ."

You knew he didn't. You'd seen him earlier on and he'd looked miserable. You stifled a chuckle, knowing his ego was too fragile for him to make any adjustments now.

Keegan smirked, the sound of your voice pulling him from his thoughts. He wiped the rain off his scope with a rag, doing his best to keep his line of sight clear.

"You know me, sweetheart. I don't need any shelter. Just give me a little rain and mud, and I'll be right at home," he replied over the comms, sarcasm coming through loud and clear.

"You country boys are insane." You chuckled, "It's gonna suck for you when you catch a cold and still lose to me." You pulled your bolt back, loading your airsoft round into the sniper.

He knew you were aiming to get under his skin, and the rain wasn't helping his mood. He'd need to figure out a way to get back at you somehow, or make sure you lost.

It was always a competition between you both, and as much as he hated to admit it, he'd grown to enjoy it. He never felt more alive than when he was trying to outdo you.

You took a breath, holding it for a few seconds to line up your shot before exhaling slowly. During your exhale, you squeezed the trigger. Your shot nailed the target dead center and your comms buzzed with Merrick's voice, "Target down, start phase two."

Keegan scoffed as he watched you effortlessly take down the target before he could even properly line up his shot. "Too cocky for your own good, darlin'. Don't get too comfortable up there," he muttered to himself, gritting his teeth.

You smirked, scrambling up and gathering your gear before racing down the mountain to collect the flag. You may have won the first phase, but if Keegan won this one it meant a tie, and that wasn't good enough for you.

You needed to beat him.

He lifted his rifle, eyes scanning the surrounding area as he prepared to move on to the next challenge. He couldn't let you win.

Not when he still had a chance.

He pushed himself off the ground and took off in the direction of the next target. As he ran, he couldn't help but think about the infuriating smile you would undoubtedly have on your face if you won. He couldn't let that happen again. Not this time.