>>165
>>166

Oh man, thanks a bunch.

>>170

Would you be willing to post a mediafire link with those files?

>>172
http://www.mediafire.com/?31avae29dz6f58k

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>>173

You da best.

>>168
It was unfinished last I saw of it. I'm not sure if the author had more of it because I sorta wandered away from the board for a while.

So we had in the old good chan several fanfics with the subject: The Team meets the Team. The glorios beginning of all this.
There were two in progress. The one with medic who says he doesn´t work for a woman ( i found it hilarious) and Scout who has a issue with Soldier, because Soldier reminds him of his dad. But i believe this two scene are from the same fic. Still i liked both fics. Someone got it? Or maybe they got reposted and i just missed it?

>>178
Oh, I remember that fic, or at least the part where Scout had the issue with Soldier.
I believe that was written by several bears?

Speaking of The Team Meets the Team, does anyone have the /complete/ version by Exac?
I'm aware that it's already been posted but the poster has left it incomplete, which is a damn shame since the story was amazing.
I'm pretty sure the last chapter ended on a cliffhanger with Scout being blown up by stickybombs.

There was this one fic where the Medic had made a pet or slave or something out of the Sniper. The Scout and Sniper didn't get on and there was one scene where the Engineer was kind of babysitting the Sniper. The Spy on the other team ended up befriending the Sniper and giving him his knife. Not sure if it was ever updated after that. Ringing any bells?

Disregard that, I suck cocks. It's already been posted.

I can't seem to find Cat Bountry's "With Apologies to Stephen King" anywhere. I'd love to reread it. Anyone have it?

>>182
Here you go!


Opening his bleary eyes, Sniper awoke the same way that he had for the past six months; in quiet desperation, hoping that the previous day had only just been a horrible dream. The low, throbbing pain in his legs was the first indication that no, he had not been dreaming. He didn’t even bother lifting the blanket to check on them, as he knew exactly what was underneath; twin, mangled pillars of flesh, wrapped in gauze and bandage wraps with no splints. He’d probably never be able to walk again, with the minimal treatment he had been given. Here, there were no dispensers, no mediguns with their cool, invigorating fumes that would wash over and renew him in a red, healing cloud. Hell, there didn’t seem to be any indication such things ever existed here. Here, there was only misery and torment… and her.

Her.

His eyes narrowed, and his head lolled back into the pillow. He listened for her, for any sounds that might indicate her presence in the house. He was hardly aware he was holding his breath, until he let it out. The house seemed to be empty. Either that, or she could be asleep. He looked over to the window and squinted. Given the position of the sun in the sky, it was about 8 AM. It was also a Saturday, though, so she probably was sleeping in. Not like he was seriously considering trying to venture out of the bed again. She kept the wheelchair locked away in the hall closet, where it stayed, no doubt gathering dust. It hadn’t seen the light of day in months, not since his last venture with it.

He scooted back on the bed, pushing himself up on his forearms and palms so that he was sitting upright. He reached over to the nightstand, and pawed for his aviators. She liked it when he wore them. Normally, that would be enough motivation for him to never wear them again, but he was afraid of incurring her wrath. He felt pathetic, really. It was his own fault, he supposed, trusting a strange woman whose bedroom he had materialized in when Engineer’s teleporter had malfunctioned. Not only had he been transported into the future, but apparently into another dimension, one where he was a fictional character. It caused something of an existential crisis for him. He remembered how lit up her face was upon seeing him, and how upon being told where and who he was, he simply sat upon her bed, sinking into the mattress and trying to process it all. And she hadn’t even cared. She just stood there, yammering on about things that he barely understood while he stared at the floor between his feet and wondered how he would ever get back home.

He felt that familiar tightness in his bladder and groped for an empty jar. She always made sure that there were plenty in his room. No bedpans or catheters for him, but fortunately no diapers either. He unscrewed the lid, scooted his body off to the far side of the bed, and adjusted himself properly. The first few times he had to do this he nearly fell off the bed, and ended up spilling urine on the floor, and was punished for it. Since then, he was always very careful about making a mess, especially just after he woke up. Giving himself a quick shake, he placed the filled jar down on the floor gently, and plucked up the lid. His arm swooped down over the jar and bumped it. He watched with mounting horror as it wobbled, his eyes growing wide and his skin becoming slick with a chilling sweat, and sucked in his breath sharply as he lashed out a hand to catch it. The jar settled into place, and the urine inside sloshed around less and less until it settled completely.

Letting out a sigh of relief, he carefully took the jar in his hand and screwed the lid back on tightly. He then lifted it up and placed it on the nightstand, handling it as one might handle a porcelain doll. Satisfied that the jar wasn’t going to go anywhere, he scooted back to the center of the bed, hissing in pain as his legs collided with each other. He had to move them, however. The thought of getting bedsores terrified him, and she certainly wasn’t going to come in every few hours and turn him over. He took a deep breath and tossed the sheets off of himself, exposing his atrophied legs.

It hurt to move them. But the last thing he wanted was to have them stick to the sheets. He gripped his right thigh, just above the knee, and slowly set it up so that his heel was propped up onto the frame at the foot of the bed. He tried to flex his gnarled muscles, but this only caused him to wince in pain. He did the same with his other leg, so that now both of his legs were no longer touching the bed. It felt good to have some air underneath his thighs. He settled back onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. He wondered if the other members of RED missed him at all. He wanted to imagine Engineer trying to fix the teleporter, staying up late in his workshop to try and get Sniper back. It had been so long, though, that Sniper thought maybe Engineer forgot, or gave up. They probably had him replaced. That thought hurt him more than his legs did. He missed them all so badly… Engineer, Demoman, Scout, Soldier, Pyro, Heavy, Medic, even the bloody Spy. Listening to the group of them bicker and fight amongst each other would be heaven compared to this.

He wasn’t sure how long he was lying there, staring heavenward, when he heard her alarm go off. He felt every muscle in his body grow tense in anticipation. He could hear the alarm being shut off, and the sounds of her weight shifting on her bed. It wouldn’t be long before she came in, and there was no telling what kind of mood she’d be in. Whatever mood it was, no doubt Sniper would be feeling the brunt of it. He braced himself, as the sound of her bare footfalls on carpet moved closer and closer to his room.
The door opened, and she stood in the doorway, that same, oversized, weathered band t-shirt she used as pajamas hugging her rotund body, stopping not even halfway down her plump thighs. Her hair was short and brown, sticking up in places where she had slept on it funny. She scratched her head, and yawned.

“Good morning, Snipes,” she drawled. “Sleep well?”

“Yes’m,” he murmured. She was sleepy, at least. As long as he behaved himself, he thought, he ought to be okay.

“What was that?” she asked, sounding slightly more alert as she walked over to his nightstand.

“Yes, ma’am,” he enunciated more clearly. “Slept just fine, ma’am.”

“That’s good,” she said, picking up his jar and tucking it under her arm. “That’s a good boy.” With her free hand, she petted the top of his head, and then scratched under his chin, which he lifted for her without even being told. “Who’s a good boy?”

Sniper hesitated before answering. “Me,” he said flatly. “I’m…I’m a good boy.”

“Yes, you are,” she said, and hummed pleasantly. “I bet you’re hungry. Do you want breakfast?”

“Yes, please, ma’am,” he said.

“Good,” she said, and planted a quick kiss on his forehead. “I’ll go make us some breakfast, then.” She giggled girlishly, and sashayed out of the door, shaking her butt as she scampered off.

As if it missed its cue, Sniper’s stomach growled once she was out of sight. He was hungry, and she did manage to make food that was decent, at least. That was probably the only positive about being kept here, but to say that it made up for anything was so laughable it was insulting. Or at least it would be, if Sniper had it in him to laugh anymore.

She had seemed nice enough, at first; eager to show off everything in her world, lots of generally unimpressive gadgets that Sniper had seen some variation of in that weird fruit hospital place with all the shiny white gizmos that the weird time-traveling wizard bloke in the black turtleneck had brought to them a while back. She dragged him around all sorts of insipid places a teenage girl would be interested in, insisting on taking him shopping for clothes, showing him movies, even showing him the weird little computer game that he came from, and expressing confusion when he was no longer appearing in it. He did recognize his teammates, however, and that recognition made his skin crawl when he saw it. Her quirks, however, were becoming too much…she was possessive over him, not willing to help him figure out what had caused the teleporter malfunction and simply chalking it up to a lightning strike outside of her home. Every time a cute girl would show interest in him, she would intervene and take the poor bird aside, and suddenly they’d be looking at him oddly and back off. When he finally lost his patience with her and told her to back off and help him get back home, that’s when everything fell apart. He was about to leave her house when he felt something blunt collide with the back of his head, and when he woke up, he had been tied down to the bed, lying helpless as she stood over him with a sledgehammer.

Just thinking about it made his legs hurt again. He could hear her in the kitchen, singing off-key to herself. It was one of those cruddy pop songs she liked so much, but he dared not even speak less than fondly of. To be honest, he didn’t really care for most of the music that she listened to on that dinky little iPod thing. But did she ever care to ask Sniper what he liked? Of course not. He smirked, a sour, joyless smile that flickered onto his face for an instant before disappearing again. What a petty complaint, considering everything else she’d done. Then again, being in a situation like this had a funny way of warping one’s perspective.

It didn’t take her too long to come back in his room, humming to herself as she carried a breakfast tray over to his bed, placing it over his thighs. Bacon, sausage, scrambled eggs, pancakes and orange juice… all in all, pretty good breakfast. There was, however, also a bowl of that sugary cereal crap she seemed so fond of pushing on him, and he eyed it with disdain.

“There you go,” she cooed, “I expect to see you eat it all up.”

“Thanks, ma’am,” he said with a nod.

“You’re welcome, Snipes,” she said, and bent down to give him another kiss on his cheek.
He hated that nickname. Scout would call him that sometimes whenever he felt like being a dick, but she used that nickname as a token of affection. It used to make his stomach churn a bit when she used it, but nowadays he had just grown numb.

He ate his breakfast at a leisurely pace. Given that meals were the only thing he had to look forward to during the course of the day, he made sure to savor them. That, and being denied meals as punishment was not uncommon. It had been a good while since the last time that happened, and he wanted to make sure it wouldn’t be happening again anytime soon.

After clearing his plate and downing the glass of orange juice, he was left with only the cereal. For whatever reason, she decided that it would be cute if he liked it. It was kid’s cereal, the kind that had those bland, dried-up marshmallows in it. He had eaten it once, when she had left him home alone, before things went bad, and due to him not really being able to cook very well as well as being very hungry, he ended up settling on that box. This had endeared her for some reason beyond his comprehension, and nowadays she made sure that it would be included in all of his breakfasts. He was full enough, really. He didn’t want to eat it. But it sat there on the tray, the grainy bits of it soaking in milk, and the marshmallows becoming bloated and soggy. How tempting would it be, to just throw the bowl against the wall, or maybe against her head. He wondered if he could kill her with that blow. He could drag himself out of bed, across the floor, find a phone and call the police… He’d probably never be able to make it back home, and he’d be stuck in a place where he didn’t even technically exist, but he wouldn’t be anywhere near her anymore.
Carefully, he lifted the ceramic bowl in both hands, and stared at it. He couldn’t seriously be considering this. If he failed, no doubt she would punish him horribly, and he’d spend days, perhaps even weeks in agony. She didn’t tolerate defiance of any kind. His hands were shaking with dread, as images ran through his mind of what she might do if he missed.

No, he thought. The bowl was too light to kill her. Even if he managed to hit her in the back of the head, it’d probably just bounce off and piss her off more. The most he could manage would to give her a concussion, if he was lucky. Certainly not enough to snuff her. Figures, he thought. All the times he tried to stab her with the fork and knife she gave him didn’t work out either.

Just as he was deep in his reverie, the door opened. “Hey, Snipes!” she said, startling him and causing him to lose his grip on the full bowl. “How was your break-” she was cut off when the bowl toppled out of Sniper’s large hands, and spilled onto the floor below, rolling across the carpet briefly before overturning and stopping. He looked down, his pulse in his ears drowning out all other sound, as the carpet soaked up the milk. Slowly, he lifted his head and looked back up at her again, her expression now grim, any hint of the jovial façade that she put on earlier erased.

“I-” He stammered, looking back to the floor, then back to her, then the floor again. “I…I’m sorry, ma’am, I dinnit’…I dinnit’ mean t’-”

“You’ve made a mess,” she said, her voice coming out in a flat, dull monotone.

“You… you startled me,” he whimpered. God, he hated himself. Six months ago he would have never sounded like this to anyone, not even if he were captured and being interrogated by that bastard BLU Spy. “I’m so sorry, ma’am, it wos an accident…”

She didn’t say anything. She didn’t even look at him, just staring at the bowl on the floor. Without a word, she bent down and picked up the bowl, and carried it out. Sniper felt a cold ball of ice in the pit of his stomach, helpless to move or try to avoid whatever she had in store. She came back again, with paper towels, and silently worked on trying to soak up the milk and pick up the bits of toasted oats and marshmallow. He watched her, and found himself unable to move, only following her with his eyes and remembering to breathe. She left the room again, and came back with a bottle of carpet shampoo. Christ, Sniper thought. She was doing this on purpose. She was scrubbing the spot where the milk fell, and she spoke again.

“Your room is going to smell,” she said. “Hope you like sour milk stench.”

Sniper wasn’t sure if he should relax or not. Sarcasm was not much of a reliable indicator as to what would happen next. He became acutely aware that his legs were aching again, and he tried not to tremble too much as she finished up. She left the room again, and Sniper hugged his arms. He could hear her fishing around in one of the drawers in the kitchen. He found himself trembling. Oh fuck, not the knives, he thought. Please not the knives, anything but the knives…

She came back in the room, holding a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Sniper wasn’t sure what to make of it. She hated smoking, and when he first came here, she would make him smoke outside and tell him about how he could get lung cancer and all sorts of other nasty diseases from it. He hadn’t had a smoke in so long, he almost forgot how much he missed it. But like Pavlov’s dog, he felt that old itch for nicotine. She unwrapped the carton, pulled out a fag, twirled it between her fingers briefly, and sighed.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do with you,” she said. “You’re a real handful, you know that?”

He watched her handle the cigarette between her chubby fingers. His own fingers twitched nervously, and he folded them underneath his palms hoping she wouldn’t notice.

“Is it too much to ask, for you to be neat and quiet and not make a mess of things?” she asked. She noticed Sniper’s eyes were focused on the cigarette, and smirked. “You want this?”

He didn’t know how he should respond. If he said no, he’d be lying, and she didn’t like to be lied to, but if he said yes… it was probably a trick. Maybe she’d let him have it. He had to answer quickly, as she looked as though she were losing patience.

“I said, ‘do you want this?’”

“Y-yes, ma’am,” he admitted. “I would like that very much.”

“I don’t know if you deserve it,” she said. “You made me have to clean up that mess I made. I’ll be late for work now. Boss man’ll chew me out for not showing up on time.”

Sniper fidgeted. “I said I was very sorry, ma’am,” he said, bowing his head.

“I don’t like how you call me ‘ma’am’ all the time, either” she said. “Too impersonal.”

“Just bein’ polite, ma’am,” Sniper said.

“You should call me something else,” she said. “Like a nickname or something. Something that says you love me. You do love me, don’t you?”

Nausea started to take hold of his guts. “Of course I do, luv,” he said.

“‘Luv!’” She squealed like a piglet, her mood changing so fast that Sniper felt as though he had gotten whiplash. “I love that! Call me that again!”

“Yes, luv,” he said. This was humiliating, he thought. What he wouldn’t give to have his weapons back.

She squealed again. Sniper winced at the sound, and she threw herself onto him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and kissing him on the cheek. Sniper felt slightly relieved. He didn’t particularly care for her being affectionate, but it was much, much better than her being angry.

“Ooooh, that’s just the best!” she gushed. “When I come back, we should watch something together! Maybe a Disney movie. Would you like that?”

“Sure, luv,” he said, squirming a big under her grip. “D’you… think I could have that cigarette now, please?”

All the energy that she had so quickly acquired drained from her, and her arms felt like lead weights on his shoulders. She pulled back, her hands still upon him, and he could see her face had resumed the stern expression she had before. He tried not to panic, but his eyes still darted around, looking uselessly for some means of escape.

“Who said you were going to get it?” she asked flatly.

“I-I thought you were gonna…”

She threw him back onto the bed, so that he was lying on his back. No, no, no, this was going all wrong. Why had he even said anything? He should have known better than to speak out of turn. He dared not move, and he watched as she took the cigarette she had removed from the carton, and lit it. Instead of putting it to her lips, she watched it burn, and sat on the bed.

“I keep telling you, smoking is bad for you,” she said. “But you never listen to anything I say, now do you?”

If he argued that point, it would only cause more hurting. “I’m sorry, luv,” he said.

“You always say you’re sorry,” she said. “I don’t even know if you mean it.”

“I-I do mean it,” he stuttered. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I said I wos.”

Her face scrunched up in a scowl. She then lunged forward, and Sniper let out a startled screech, as he felt an acute, searing burn on his nipple. He realized, as he looked down at his bare chest and noticed the fresh, sizzling burn on his sensitive skin, that she had ground the cigarette against his flesh. He panted, and scooted away from her with a hand covered his wounded chest, as she stomped out of the room and slammed the door behind her.

Sniper listened for anymore sounds, and closed his eyes when he heard the jingling of her keys and the front door shutting and locking. He had gotten off easy this time, and he had certainly suffered worse injuries, but this was different. This was degrading. With her gone for the day, he’s have nothing to do but to lie in bed. He wasn’t allowed out of the room unsupervised, obviously.

With nothing to do, he was left alone to his thoughts. He’d daydream about escape, about killing his captor, about finding his way home and making it back to Sawmill or Dustbowl or 2fort or wherever his team happened to be stationed, to be welcomed back with open arms and told how much he was missed. Every hour or so, he would change his position on the bed, flip over, or otherwise make sure that he wouldn’t develop some kind of rash from lying in unwashed sheets for too long, but also trying to avoid lying on his burnt nipple. Before too long, he drifted off to sleep again. As he dreamed, he was back in Australia, and driving on his way to his mum and dad’s house in Adelaide, but when he pulled up to where their house was, it was missing. In fact, there was no sign of it ever being there at all, and instead there was a large, black, gaping hole in the ground where the little red house once stood. He leaned over it, peering down inside, and could feel a cool wind blowing up from the hole, blowing away his hat. He tried to grab for it, but he lost his footing, and fell forward, down into the inky blackness of the bottomless pit.

He woke up with a snort. Bad dream again. He shifted on the bed, and noticed his aviators were in his curled fingers. He put them on, and groaned. Bad dreams weren’t very pleasant, but at the very least, he didn’t have a good dream. Good dreams were the worst. There was nothing more depressing than waking up from a good dream in this little room, with his broken legs and his bruised and violated body. He checked the window again. The sun was not longer visible, and it looked to be about early in the evening. She’d be home soon. It was only a matter of time.

Sure enough, he heard the sound of her car pulling up outside, and listened for the door to unlock. Hopefully she’d treat that burn she gave him earlier. With her, he could never be sure.

“I’m home!” she said, her voice adopting the sing-song tone of some 1950’s sitcom husband. The door shut behind her, and her sneakers could be heard tromping up to his room. She opened the door, and her face lit up when she saw him. “There you are!” she said, as though she had been expecting him to be anywhere but where she left him last. “How are you doing?”

“Fine, luv,” he lied. His nipple didn’t bother him as much as it did earlier, but it still stung like hell. “How was your day?”

“Ugh, my boss!” she said, throwing up her hands in frustration. “He’s such an asshole, I swear to God! He never lets me handle the bigger clients, I always have to work in a group of amateurs! Nobody ever listens to my ideas. I think they’re just jealous, though.”

“Of course they are, luv,” he said, nodding. He begged silently that she would at least put some kind of bandage and antiseptic on his chest, but actually bringing that to her attention would be risking it.

“At least you think I’m great,” she said, and sat on the bed, far too close to his legs for comfort. “You’ll always love me, won’t you, Sniper?” She reached out to stroke his cheek, and he tried not to shake too much.

“Yes, luv,” he said.

“Yes, luv, you’ll what?” she asked, gripping his chin between her forefinger and thumb.

“Yes, luv, I’ll always love you.”

“Good boy,” she said, scratched under his chin. “Give me a kiss.”

Not wanting to ruin her good mood, he leaned forward and gave her a quick peck on her cheek. She smiled and giggled, and ruffled his unwashed hair affectionately.

“Oh, my,” she said. “I think somebody needs another bath.”

He felt a jolt as she said that. Out of all the demeaning things she had put him through, he dreaded baths. They had started out with her simply stripping him down, scrubbing his naked body and giggling over seeing his penis, but she had since grown much, much bolder. If she was feeling randy at all, it was bath time. It was very rare that she had ever gotten naked with him, but that didn’t stop the clumsy groping and molestation. She had tried to make him penetrate her, or do anything at all to her really. He never pressed the issue, anyway. For all her dirty talk about how much he supposedly wanted her tits and her ass, she was downright prudish when it came to herself. That didn’t stop her from grabbing at his genitals, however, but Sniper imagined if he tried to grab her breast, he’d be punished for it. He had no desire to fuck her anyhow, which made bath time all the more degrading.

“I’ll go run it,” she said, trying to sound as flirty as possible. “Don’t go anywhere, now!” She laughed at her own wit.

He groaned, and held his head in his hands. He did not want to go through with this. Not tonight. Not ever again. He closed his eyes, flopped down on the bed, and he prayed to whatever God he thought might be listening to get him out of there, or just end it all. Strike him down with a sudden fatal heart attack, something, anything but this.

It was then his ears picked upon a sound that he hadn’t heard in months, a familiar, swooshing, metallic sound. No, it couldn’t be… it had to be just her game, right? It couldn’t possibly be…

He looked up, and was greeted by a flash of red. Standing in the room, looking very confused, was RED team’s Scout, with a length of rope tied around his waist. The rope disappeared into a spot of red beneath the Scout. He looked around the room, still disorientated from the teleportation, before he finally saw Sniper lying in the bed, shirtless and covered in bruises and more scars than when he had disappeared.

“Sniper?”

“Scout?” Sniper asked in disbelief. “Is… is that you, mate?”

“Yeah, it’s fuckin’ me!” he said. “But Jesus, where are we?”

“Oh God…” he said, unable to hold back tears of happiness. He threw off the sheets from his mangled legs, exposing them to the younger man, before he forgot that he couldn’t get up off the bed to hobble towards him. “Oh Christ, I thought I’d never see you again.”

“The hell’s goin’ on?” asked Scout. “Who the hell did this to you, man?”

“She did this t’ me! We need t’ get outta here!” said Sniper. “Quickly, before she comes back!”

“Before who comes back?” Scout asked.

The door to Sniper’s room flew open, and Scout turned around, only to be propelled backwards by an arrow fired into his shoulder and pinned him against the wall. Sniper let out a startled cry, and watched helplessly as she pulled another arrow from the quiver on her back.

“Oh God, what the fuck, lady!” Scout cried, clutching his wounded shoulder.

“I don’t like Scout as much,” she said flatly. “They should have sent Engineer.”

“You crazy bitch, what the hell is wrong with you?” Scout shouted. “What the hell have you done to Sniper?”

She didn’t answer. She loomed over the wounded young man, watching him struggle, she noticed the rope around his waist, and the red portal on the floor. She tossed the arrow aside for the moment, and reached into the sheath of Sniper’s kukri, pulling out the long, wide blade. Scout tried to pull the arrow out of his shoulder in vain as he watched her take the taut rope in her grip. She raised the blade above her head, and Sniper, who was just a captive audience to this scene unfolding before him, started to shake his head.

“Oh God, no, please, no…” he pleaded with her. “Please don’t, just send him back, please.”

She stared at Sniper, her eyes burning like coals in a fire. She brought down the blade, hacking through the rope in one swift blow, and watched the rope fall limp on the floor just short of the portal. She moved to kick the rope back in when the room flashed red again, and a different figure materialized before her.

There, holding his Shovel in hand and looking just as confused as the Scout was Soldier, with the same length of rope tied around his waist. He looked down at the woman before him from under his helmet, his blue eyes wide and bulging. “Who are you?” he barked. “Are you a BLU?”

She screeched at him, and swung the kukri wildly at him. Soldier, however, dodged the blade, and swung his shovel so that the broadside of the spade smacked her on the side of her head, sending her flying into the wall. She slid down it, falling to her knees for a moment, while Soldier stood, gripping and wringing the entrenching tool in both hands.

“If it’s a fight you want, sister, then I’m ready to give it to you,” he snarled. He then hawked up a wad of phlegm, and spit on the floor. “C’mon. Get up and fight me, Rotunda!”
Incensed, she sprung to her feet, and screamed at him as she ran towards him. Soldier screamed in response, and she charged into him, sending the American backwards and onto Sniper’s bed, right on top of his legs. Sniper howled in pain, and hastily covered his mouth, as Soldier managed to kick her back into the wall. She let out a “woof” as the wind was knocked out of her lungs, and collided with the wall again. Soldier sprung off the bed and pounced on her, bringing his Shovel down only to have it blocked by the kukri.

Meanwhile, Scout managed to dislodge the arrow from his shoulder, pulling it out with a shout of pain. Soldier cast a quick glance in the younger man’s direction. “Quick, get him out of here, private!” Soldier hollered.

Scout nodded, and swooped over to Sniper’s bed, grabbing him roughly by the arm and dragging him towards the portal. Sniper yelped in pain as his feet hit the floor. Scout was obviously having trouble carrying the taller man, and waited over the portal as Soldier struggled with her. Scout held the rope that Soldier was attached to and started tugging on it frantically, and the sound of the teleporter firing up filled both of their ears. Sniper clung onto Scout for dear life, and closed his eyes as it grew louder and everything flashed red.

“SNIPER IS BACK!” a familiar voice rumbled.

Sniper looked up. He blinked a few times, and saw the other members of RED team huddled just inside the supply room. It was Heavy who had spoken, and he was the first to lift Sniper into his giant arms and nearly crush the man to death in a overly friendly bear hug. “Doktor, look! Leetle Sniper has returned!”

“Heavy, put him down!” said Medic. “He’s injured!”

“Sorry,” said Heavy, and carried Sniper off to lie him down on one of the benches.

“Whuurrt hurrrpurrned?” Pyro asked, looking at Sniper’s legs in concern.

“Some crazy bitch had kidnapped him or somethin’,” said Scout, opening the supply locker and rummaging for a first aid kit. “She’s in there fightin’ with Soldier.”

“Who on earth would want to kidnap ze Sniper?” asked Spy.

“Some fat chick,” said Scout, opening up the first aid kit. “I think she’s the one who fucked up his legs, man.”

Medic unwrapped Sniper’s slipshod dressings, and examined his legs. “Ach, vat happened to you? Zese look like zey vere broken several times ovah.”

“That’s… that’s exactly what happened,” said Sniper, as Demoman handed him a bottle of Scrumpy. “Thanks, mate.”

“Think nothin’ o’ it,” said Demoman. “Is she still o’er there? I’ll pluck her eyeballs out o’ ‘er head an’ roast ‘em like marshmallows!”

“Please, don’t mention marshmallows t’ me ever again,” Sniper moaned.

“Th’ rift can’t stay stable fer much longer!” Engineer announced, frantically looking from his PDA to the teleporter. “If Soldier don’t git back soon, he’s gonna be stuck over there!”

“Aw man, I ain’t goin’ back there,” said Scout, as Pyro helped him wrap up his injured shoulder. “She’s off her fuckin’ rocker man. She’s givin’ Soldier a run for his money!”

“Lemme in there!” Demoman hollered. “I’ll feckin’ murder her until there ain’t nothin’ left tae murder!”

“Demoman, you are stayin’ right where you are!” Engineer shouted back. “We can’t afford t’ lose anybody else!”

“But you can afford to lose Soldier?” Spy asked sardonically.

“You shut it, Spah, that ain’t what I meant!”

The teleporter started to spin again, and all eyes turned expectantly towards it. The lights in the base flickered, as the power required to power the inter-dimensional portal drained on the facility. Engineer grew panicky, coaxing the machine to keep going. Just as the room flashed red, the lights went out, enveloping the entire base in darkness.

“… Soldier?” Engineer asked, removing his goggles from his face to better see in what little light there was. “You there?”

The backup generator switched on, and the fluorescent lights came back to life. Soldier stood, clutching an arrow wound in his side, wobbling as he tried to stay standing. “Soldier, reporting for duty, sir,” he said. “Mission accomplished.” He then collapsed onto the floor, where Medic rushed to his aid, pulling out the arrow and dousing him with the healing gas of the medigun.

“Yeah, use it on him, not on me,” Scout said.

“Your vounds ah not as severe,” said Medic. “Herr Soldier should be fine, as long as he gets some rest.”

“Vhat about Sniper?” Heavy asked.

Medic sighed. “Given zat his injuries vere not treated for so long… it vill be a much longer recovery, und ze Medigun can only do so much. Ve could try to see if respawn has his information logged from before he disappeared…”

“That’s goin’ back a long ways, Doc,” said Engineer. “You think we can do that?”

“Ve must try,” said Medic. “Or Herr Sniper may be crippled for life. Heavy, bring him to ze infirmary for me, bitte.”

“Da, Doktor,” said Heavy, and lifted Sniper up in his arms. It was everything Sniper could do not to start bawling like a spinster at a wedding. He was safe again. He was back with RED team, and he had finally woken up from the months-long nightmare of being trapped with her. No longer was he her personal puppy, no longer was he her castrated doll for her to play with and abuse at her leisure. He was finally free. And right now, that counted more than anything.

“Sniper!” Heavy shouted. “Sniper!”

He looked up at him. “Wot d’ya want?” he asked.

“Sniper, get up!”

He awoke with a start.

He was lying on his back again. He could feel the warmth of Heavy’s arms fade, and as he turned his head, he saw her looking over him.

“I’m sorry, Snipes,” she said. “You just drifted off to sleep while I was getting ready. You look so cute when you’re sleeping.”

He just stared at her slack-jawed. “You’re making me hafta run the bath again,” she said. “If I wasn’t in such a good mood, you’d be in trouble for that.”

He watched as she sauntered off. The rescue in his head felt so vivid this time, so unmistakably real... he slumped forward, and stared at his hands, his fingers curled up like dead insects in his lap.

He brought his hands to his face, and cried.

> 183
Oh jesus. How did I not know of this fic's existence before?
It's WONDERFUL.

183
Blech. That as much of an uncomfortable read as Misery was. Doesn't make either of them bad, just...brr. Can't imagine acting the way these women to do someone I suposedly loved/admired.

>>183

Thank you so much, Hybrid. You're a darling.

>>183

Oh god, this seems vaguely familiar...I remember reading this one terribad fanfiction called 'Adventures With Brody and Sniper' that was very similar to this. Minus the Misery references, of course.
It had the whole lighting strike teleportation, him having to live with a fangirl, and being stuck in her world. There was a bunch of other little things too, that I don't want to get into too much detail about but are eerily similar to that story.
I don't know, it was just something that I couldn't help but notice.

>>187

The basic premise was based on a fic that Cat found on ff.net and decided to parody, so perhaps you read the original?

Compared to 'Adventures With Brody and Sniper', most of the OC/TF2 stories on FF are much, much worse now...

Thanks Hybrid for posting!

183
I was meaning to repost this with a different ending, actually.

You can leave it up. I'm still working on it on and off.

Oooh is it gonna have a happier ending?

191
MAYBE.

Drag that wench back into the TF2 world. I wanna see how high she holds herself when surrounded by eight pissed-off men wielding buckshot, rocket launchers, miniguns.

Pretty please with sugar on top?

Asking for Doghouse again, if anyone happens to have it ( it was the prostitute AU ). I kind of need it for academic reasons. Seriously. /essay writing

>>187

More than likely.
Throughout the story I couldn't help but think, "Okay, I KNOW I read something like this before!"
It took me a while to put my finger on it, though.

>>189

Oh lord, I know. That's why I tend to avoid any fics with an OC in it just for that reason...

does anyone have this story, i think It had been a kink request.
the pairing was girl!Heavy and scout and heavy literally picking up the scout to take back to her room

adn does anyone know if the author is still writing it?

>>127
You know what would be cool? Someone reading this out loud as scout. That would be hilarious.

>>197 Ya know. I´m tempted to read one day a "dramatic reading" of one of the stories. But my voice is kinda weird and then it would have my horrible german accent, so i dunno. But wasn´t there already one reading with the story? (man i miss the Scout Stories. I´m kinda sad, that it the author left it all by this cliffhanger.)

>>198 The accent would make it even better.

>>198
Horrible German accent you say?
I'M IN.

Does anyone have that one fic where Scout finds out Spy is his dad and scout abuses and has sex with him? They play catch in the beginning I think...I'm not sure what the fic is called

Hey, does anyone remember that one fic with Medic and Sniper? The one where Medic goes out for a smoke and finds Sniper out there, drunk. When Medic takes Sniper back to his room, Sniper moans about how lonely he is and Medic procedes to give him a handy. Then Sniper finds Medic's ciggs in his bed the next mourning and yells at Spy about it. And all the while, Medic is fretting terribly about what he did.

I found that fic delightful and would like to know if it was ever finished. And if not, does anyone have the beginning?

The one with the Scout/Spy as his dad is called Scout/Spy Wincest. I totally saved it before the crash! If you want it I got it :D

>>203
Different annon here, but please upload it! :)

I can't remember for the life of me who wrote this, but the chan asked for it and I shall upload it! Enjoy the wincest my friends!

Pt 1

“Fuck, Spy,” Scout’s voice came out rough and laboured. His grip on Spy’s hips tightened, long fingers digging into tense muscle and a sharp hipbone. “F-fuck, Spy, how do ya always make me do this?”

Spy’s breath was not ragged, simply because he was holding it. He’d let it out when Scout wasn’t paying attention. Better to deny the boy the satisfaction of knowing just how much this was affecting him. Fortunately for him, a second after he thought this, Scout let out a long groan and a flurry of cuss-riddled dialogue, punctuated perfectly with gasps. Spy very slowly let out his breath, being very careful not to let Scout feel it on his body. He kept his muscles tense and his exhale silent, and the combined sounds of Scout’s frenzied babbling and the bed creaking and hitting the wall covered his exhale successfully.

As he went to take another careful breath, he found that this time he truly could not. Scout gave another yank on the tie still fastened around Spy’s neck. The silk closed tightly around Spy throat, and despite his self-control and gentle breathing, he let out an embarrassing choked noise.

Scout smirked, and Spy knew that he had been found out. His arms collapsed as he slid down to lean on his elbows and buried his face in Scout’s pillow in embarrassment. Scout would have none of that, though. He yanked hard on the tie, jerking Spy’s head up.

“Thought you could handle this, eh?” Scout’s grin could not have gotten any wider. “You got real loose right there. Can’t get that shit past me, man. Every time you move even a little, I can feel it.” He snickered. “Ain’t a fuckin’ ninja or whatever, like you thought you were.”

Spy had a snarky comment, something sly and clever that would shut Scout up without a doubt, when he tried to spit it out, it came out as nothing more than a strangled whine. Scout had taken up his end of Spy’s tie again and pulled it taut to silence him.

“Shut the fuck up, Spy,” he laughed again. He brought a hand down to give Spy’s ass a slap and pulled his hips back again. He snapped his hips forward at a pace only a twitchy teenager like himself could manage.

“Spy,” Scout said after a moment of silence, broken only by the creaking of the mattress, and the sound of Spy struggling to force oxygen past his constricted trachea. “Fuck, Spy, fuck, man, i-is... is my ma a better lay than me, ya slimy rat?”

He allowed enough slack on the tie for Spy to answer. The second his throat was granted mercy, Spy gulped down the now-available air desperately. Spy’s body contracted and relaxed with his gasps, and Scout gave a groan at the sensation. His grip on Spy’s hips and the grinding of his own hips against Spy’s backside only got rougher.

“I cannot compare you to your mother,” he said, his voice breaking on the second syllable of the final word. Scout could not have been smugger. Spy pushed away his crumbling composure and tried to settle back into the groove of being superior and suave like he was supposed to be. “Not in that way at least, mon cher. You are a man and she is a woman, and she has certain... qualities that you lack.”

Scout snorted. “You don’t like fuckin’ my ma as much as you like gettin’ fucked by me, so you can shut that smart fuckin’ mouth’a yours.”

Spy laughed his horrible nasally oh-so-French laugh. “And ‘ow would you know that, petit lapin?”

“Last time I was up visiting, my ma told me.”

“...Quoi?”

“Last time I visited, I asked her about ‘that guy she’s been seeing.’ She talks about you a lot, y’know.” Scout smiled bitterly. “She said that the guy she’s been seeing seemed pretty bored with her for the past couple’a months.” His smile turned smug again. “Said it was like he had a new girl.”

“I-is that so?”

“Yeah. A couple’a months... Ain’t that like how long we’ve been fucking?”

“That seems about right.”

“She told me a lot of things about you. Like how you’re the guy she cheated on my dad with. Or, at least, the guy I thought was my dad.”

“...Scout, don’t-”

“Yeah, she cheated on the guy she was married to with you, and when ya knocked her up, ya took off. Slimy and sneaky like always, huh?”

Spy sputtered silently for a moment, searching for some lie or reassurance he could feed to Scout. When he turned to look over his shoulder, the look on the boy’s face told him that he would not weaken on this. Spy’s well-crafted lies would not lead him away from the truth this time. He cursed under his breath.

“Why would she tell you?!” Spy wanted to rip his hair out in frustration. He crawled forward as best he could, but before he could manage to shuffle forwards on his hands and knees even an inch, Scout jerked him back by the tie. He gave Spy another warning smack on the ass and shifted his hips slightly to pull out and push roughly back inside of him. He tugged the tie hard again, forcing Spy up and off the mattress onto his knees.

“Naw, Spy. I’ve lived all’a my life without a dad, and now I find out that my dad’s been killin’ me an’ my friends over an’ over again for the past three years.” He ground his cock into Spy again and reached up to tangle his fingers in Spy’s brown-red hair, pulling his head back. Their blues eyes mirrored each other. The edges out Scout’s were crinkled with his grin. Spy’s were wide with surprised and mild terror.
“Nah, you bailed out on my whole life so far, so now... you’re gonna be the best fuckin’ daddy any kid could ask for.”

I dunno if theres more but this is all I got.
Pt 2

“...you cannot be serious.”

“Fuck you, Spy.” Scout spat a gob of saliva down into the sand and bent down, poised in a perfect batting pose. “Throw the ball over the plate.”

“But, mon coeur, I ‘ave not played baseball in a good few years.”

“I don’t fuckin’ care if ya ain’t played in a few hundred fuckin’ years, ya queer.” He jogged on the spot a few steps, then stopped and returned to his stance. “Throw the fuckin’ ball.”

“All I am saying is that it will be embarrassing.”

“I don’t fuckin’ care. Throw the ball ‘fore I beat ya fuckin’ face in. It’s not like ya can look any gayer’n ya always do.” Scout snickered at his own joke. “Might even look a bit more manly if ya played a real fuckin’ dude sport instead’a godamn swordfightin’ an’ poodle-groomin’ an’ whatever other faggy shit ya do for fun over in Frogville.”

Spy rolled his eyes. “It is called fencing, mon cher, and it is not me I am worried about embarrassing. If you saw me play baseball, you would be truly ashamed to be my son.”

“Oh, like anyone’ll know you’re my fuckin’ dad.”

“’Fucking’ dad, indeed.” Spy said with a chuckle.

“You’re not funny. Ya don’t even look a lil’ bit like me. Nobody’ll ever guess.”

“Ah, non.” Spy shook his head, tossing the worn baseball from hand to hand. It made a sound as the ball smacked the bare skin. “You ‘ave my eyes, mon bijou.”

“Bullshit.”

“Vraiment. Your mother’s eyes are much darker.”

Scout scowled. “Can it, cockfag. And cut the fuckin’ pet names and French shit out too or I’ll knock ya fuckin’ block off. Don’t need to hear that fairy shit all the fuckin’ time. S’bad enough ya do it when we fuck.”

“Ah, but I know ‘ow much of an effect it ‘as on you.” Spy said, musing. “Secretly, you love it.”

“Shut your fuckin’ mouth ‘fore I shut it for ya. Throw the damn ball.”

“Oh, could not divert you from the situation at hand?”

“You’re damn fuckin’ right. Pretend you’re less French and throw the fuckin’ ball. I don’t care how much ya suck at baseball. Just do it’n quit bitchin.’ You’re worse than a fuckin’ chick sometimes. My girl back home is less whiny than you.”

“Your ‘girl back home’ is also made up, mon petit lapin.”

“I ain’t ya fuckin’ bunny, douchenozzle. An’ Debbi fuckin’ exists. She just don’t have time to write me back ‘cause she’s busy with college ‘n stuff.”

Spy gave a snort of laughter. “Busy with college? The closest she could get to being ‘busy with college’ would be if she was participating in orgies with a group of frat boys.”

“Shut your trap, Spy. You’re the last person who can call anyone a slut. Throw the fuckin’ ball.”

“Oh, but I so love holding your balls, Scout.”

“You’re fuckin’ hilarious.” Scout said without so much as a smirk to quirk his lip. “Throw it.” His fingers tightened on the handle of his bat. Not the one he used to beat in skulls, but close enough. He gave a demonstration swing. “C’mon, man. Right here.”

Spy gave a sigh and said; “If you insist, mon amour.”

“Yeah, I do, fag. Do good here an’ maybe I’ll let ya have ya hands untied when I fuck ya later.”

“You’re so generous.” Spy said dryly.

Scout tapped the home plate with his bat twice, then bent back into his pose. “C’mon, Spy. Don’t make me use the ‘d’ word.”

Spy shuddered and shook his head. He reached up to brush his hair out of his eyes, slicking it back against his scalp. He fretfully scratched at his wrists where his gloves should have been, desperate to cover as much skin as possible. Having people see so much of his bare flesh had been the entire reason he had objected to this off-base trip. But, Scout had argued, it was not as if he was going to see any of the strangers he might see ever again or have them recognize him and say ‘hey! You’re the RED Spy!’ With much bitching on his part and relentless pestering from Scout he had been coaxed off the base to the baseball diamond in the nearest town. He promised Scout an afternoon of one-on-one pitching and hitting. Scout said it was all dicking around because it was just the two of them, but he accepted that that was as good as it was going to get.

The second they got off base they stopped at the first gas station they found and changed into civilian clothes. Scout’s were not much different than his work uniform; he took off his hand wraps, tucked his dog tags inside his shirt, took off his headset, and left his bag in the truck. Spy’s change had been much more dramatic, as most of the outfit actually belonged to Scout. He had obviously removed his mask and gloves. The only item that remained from his uniform was his cigarette case and his balisong. He had switched the top half of his suit with a short-sleeved button-down dress shirt that was pale blue in color, paired with a navy blue pinstriped tie very similar to the BLU Spy’s. These were the only articles of ‘formal’ clothing that Scout had allowed his mother to send with him to BLU. (He had shown up at the base wearing it the first day before he received his uniform. It had been tossed into the closet at the end of the day and had been there ever since.) Spy had originally intended in wearing his suit minus his mask and gloves, but Scout had told him he’d look like a creeper and had forced him into the blue shirt, tie, and a pair of black slacks. He had tried to weasel out of the situation by telling Scout that the shirt was too small and that it would never fit him. It was indeed a bit tight around the shoulders and pectorals, but Scout had brushed it off, telling him he looked hotter in a tighter shirt anyways, shoved him back into the truck (RED Engie’s, on loan) and ordered him to suck it up and keep driving.

When they arrived, the park was vacant except for three small children and a woman on the playground just outside the baseball diamond’s fence. Whenever the woman caught snippets of Scout’s loud, foul language, she threw him a dirty look and returned to monitoring her children. By the time Spy reeled back in a fairly good impersonation of a pitcher’s throwing pose, she had shepherded the three children away from the park and Scout’s extreme vulgarity, supposedly in an effort to salvage what she could of their young, impressionable minds.

After a few more curses and shouts of ‘hurry it up, asshat!’ from Scout, Spy let his first pitch fly. It flew wide, way out of Scout’s bat’s range. This earned him a raucous reprimand and a bat near-flung at his head. He settled Scout down and wound up for his second pitch.

When throwing the second pitch he made a point to throw more gently to avoid repeating his first mistake. The ball hit the ground at least three feet short of the plate and rolled to a stop a Scout’s feet. Scout gazed down at the ball with a cocked eyebrow, then looked up at Spy and blinked twice. Spy turned away and gave an irritated huff, which instantly sent Scout in fits of violent laughter.

“Oh. My God, man!” Scout howled, his words punctuated perfectly by laughter. By this point, he had dropped his bat and doubled over, clutching at his side and roaring with laughter.

“And just ’ow is this funny?” Spy grumbled.

Scout settled down after a moment, thought he was still wearing his usual douchebag grin when he answered. “You’re fuckin’ good at everything else, and the one thing I’m good at is the one thing ya suck at! This is fuckin’ awesome!”

Deciding that arguing Scout’s point was far more trouble than it was worth, Spy instead heaved a sigh and held his hands out. “Throw the ball back, petit.”

Scout smirked at Spy one last time, then stooped down to pick up the ball. He lobbed it underhand to Spy, who caught it easily. Scout started to laugh again and Spy huffed.

“What is it this time?”

“Nothin,’ man. Just noticed how ya can’t pitch to save ya life, but catchin’ don’t seem to be much of a problem for ya.”

“Oh, hon hon hon. You are truly a comedian, mon amour.”

“Sure am. Gonna throw it, or what?”

“Only if you can ‘andle the thought of me pitching.”

“You won’t last much longer. This is ya last chance, n’ then it’s my turn.”

“Tragic.” Spy said, and let the last of the three fly. He aimed over the plate as best he could and threw it with all the force he could muster. He heard a noise of impact and thought that perhaps Scout had hit this one. To his surprise, Scout had not flung his bat aside and taken off towards the first base. His bat was, as predicted, on the ground beside him, but he was sitting on the ground behind the plate with his hands over his face. The blood running from between Scout’s fingers and the muffled curses flying from his mouth were enough to clue Spy in to what had happened.

He raised his hand out to Scout and took two steps closer. “Scout...”

Scout’s open palm flew out as a gesture for Spy to stay away. His other hand remained holding his face. “Fuck off!”

Spy shook his head and advanced on Scout further. He dropped into a crouch and reached out to take Scout’s hand and pull it away from his face. Scout’s other hand smacked his away and he spat out another ‘no! Fuck you!’

“Ge-“ Scout’s eyes shot open and his tear-glazed glare was fierce enough to melt through steel. “Scout. Let me see it.”

“No. It’s fine. I told ya not to call me by my name.”

“I didn’t, mon cher. Now if you would just let me see-“

“Go fuck yourself, Spy. You were gonna. I don’t call you dad or your name, so don’t call me by my fuckin’ name. It’s creepy.”

“Oui, oui. Whatever you want, chéri, just let me see your face.” His hand went for Scout’s again. Expecting Scout to hit him, Spy was surprised to hear him heave a sigh and lower his hand from his nose and mouth. The only visible broken skin was Scout’s swollen and busted lip, and when he turned to spit blood and saliva from his mouth, he spat what looked like a tooth out as well.

Scout scowled when Spy did nothing but stare at his injuries. “Well?”

“’Well,’ what?”

“Ain’t ya gonna apologize?”

“Non. You deserved it.” Spy shrugged and straightened up on his feet again. He busied himself with lighting a cigarette. “You should ‘ave moved out of the way.”

Silence fell between them for a moment, until Scout smirked and said; “Awright. If that’s what how ya wanna play it...”

“Quoi?”

Scout extended a hand towards Spy. “C’mon, fag. Help me up.”

Spy eyed the proffered hand suspiciously. “I am not so sure I want to.”

“Quit bein’ an ass, Spy. Help me out here.”

Spy’s eyes never left Scout’s hand as he moved forward and reached down to take it. For a moment, nothing happened, and Spy thought that Scout had truly wanted nothing more than a hand getting to his feet.

Then that smirk grew ever more devious and Spy felt himself being jerked harshly forward. He thought he would tumble over on top of Scout, but the boy moved to the side at the last second. After he had landed on the dusty ground, he tried to bring his hands up and push himself up, but before he had a chance, Scout swung his leg over to straddle him.

He took a seat on the small of Spy’s back and wrenched one arm back by the wrist. When Spy continued to squirm and growl what were no doubt an impressive array of French cusses, Scout just pushed his face into the dirt with a hand placed on the back of his head.

“P-pourquoi?” Spy said, spitting sand out onto the ground that was already marked with droplets of Scout’s blood.

Scout just grinned. “Ya deserved that. You should have moved out of the way.”

Spy wanted to hiss back a malicious response in any language of the many he spoke fluently, but froze when he felt something sharp stabbing at a spot just beneath his left shoulder blade. “I certainly hope that is your erection.”

Scout laughed when he felt Spy tense. “Too bad for you, it ain’t.” He adjusted Spy’s balisong to press it more firmly against him. “Now, respawn don’t exist here, so unless ya wanna become a fuckin’ pinstriped pincushion, you’re gonna do what I tell ya. When I get up off your back, you’re gonna get up too. Don’t run away or nothin,’ ‘cause I’ll chase ya down, motherfucker.” He prodded at Spy’s back with the knife. “Then we’re gonna walk real slow over to the dugout there, ‘n I’m gonna fuck ya nice n’ rough till you’re screamin’ and cryin.’”
--

Thanks for the Scout/Spy Wincest upload! there is more but i'm glad someone had some of it :)

>>205

Well hey there, fic I wrote ages ago! And only two chapters? WELL. I can help out here!

Contrary to my update consistency, I AM still working on this. I've got six chapters for you guys right now, but once I get more new stuff I'll make a new thread for it. Enjoy!

--
Chapter 3, beta'd by cancel




Scout’s nose didn’t stop bleeding until after he’d dragged Spy to his feet and marched him off to the dugout. He returned the favour by rather forcefully smashing Spy’s face into a post as he swung open the chain-link gate and shoved Spy inside.

Spy whipped around to try and take the knife from Scout, but instead earned a punch to the face for his troubles and a faceful of chain-link as Scout wrenched his arms up behind his back. The knife pressed between his shoulder blades again and Scout’s hot breath reddened his ear when he laughed softly.

“Nice try, daddy,” he bit Spy’s earlobe and received a yelp of pain in response. “But you little Scooty don’t play that way. That was a dirty stunt you pulled there, and when ya make dirty plays in baseball, ya get your ass benched.”

“I didn’t mean for it to happen!” But Scout just smashed him into the fence again. “Scout! What do you want from me?!”

Wrenched off the fence by the hand on his shoulder and one tangled in his hair, Spy’s babbled protests went ignored. Spy tripped over a cleated shoe nudge in behind his heel and went tumbling to the ground. As he has up and attempted to push himself up, the dirt underneath him ground into the palms of his hands and the seat of his pants.

When Scout’s weight came down on Spy’s chest and he felt his arms pushed into the ground by Scout’s knees, Spy’s struggles returned with renewed vigour. Scout settled into a crouch over Spy’s chest, effectively halting any further struggles.

Spy heard the unzipping of Scout’s pants and slammed his eyes shut, resuming his weak squirming, fish-like flailing, and whole-body flopping.

“Hey. Turn this way.” Scout said, and Spy steadfastly turned his face away. Scout placed a hand on his cheek and applied gentle but firm pressure.

“Và te faire foutre!” Spy spat, and turned to bite Scout’s hand. Scout jerked the bitten hand back with a yelp. He scowled and brought it back to strike Spy’s cheek hard, knocking his head to the side and leaving an angry red mark. Next he hooked his thumb in Spy’s lip to his cheek and wrenched on it, pulling Spy’s head up.

Scout grinned at his captive, who by now was thrashing bodily in an attempt to buck Scout off. He sucked his cheek in to pull Scout’s thumb tight against his teeth and gnashed them together desperately to try and bite the boy. Scout just yanked on his cheek again.

“Open ya mouth.” Scout said, and when Spy growled out a slurred ‘laisse moi tranquille, sa petit enculé!’ he just gave Spy’s cheek another sharp pull. “Open up. An’ if bite down, I’ll introduce ya to the business end of ya own knife. I’m fucking serious, frog, so don’t even fucking think about it.”

Spy was tempted. Very tempted. But he didn’t really feel like dying and ruining what had been, up until that point, a pretty good day. Instead he opened his mouth reluctantly. Before he even had a chance to hiss out a few delightful French obscenities, he had a mouthful of cock alongside Scout’s thumb that still held him by the tender inside of his cheek.

Scout let out a long breath that was almost a low groan. “Use your tongue on me.” He said. He brought his free hand down to cup the back of Spy’s skull and eased his head up a bit. Because of how Scout was crouched hovering over his shoulders, this motion forced Scout in deeper and it wasn’t long before Spy’s breathing was cut off entirely. He began flailing and squirming.

Scout grunted when he felt his tip bump against the back of Spy’s throat and he tipped his head back and panted shamelessly. Spy’s tongue was working desperately at his underside, and the sensations were so overwhelming that he almost missed Spy’s muffled cries and the panicked way he struggled.

As soon as he felt the admittedly delicious feeling of the muscles in Spy’s throat fluttering frantically, he pulled back. Hacks a coughs and snarls of Scout’s name – his given name – peppered with French curses flew from Spy’s mouth hoarsely. It was to the point where Scout thought he might never shut up when the words dissolved into incomprehensible coughs.

“You about done?” He asked, rolling his eyes with impatience.

Spy just stared. “Que?” he croaked.

“You totally ruinin’ the mood.”

“...the mood?”

“Yeah. Here I was, feelin’ like real fuckin’ hot porn star and then you had to go and fuck it up.”

“You’re a monster!”

“I think you mean ‘badass motherfucker.’ But you’re close.”

“Badass fatherfucker.”

“If you’re makin’ jokes, ya can’t be too pissed off at me.”

“Non. In order to keep up with your sexual appetite, I lost my gag reflex months ago.”

“Nah. Didn’t need it for spyin’ anyways. Better off without it, really.”

“Oui. But do you know what I do need for spying?”

“What?”

“Oxygen.”

“Oh.” Scout paused a moment, then shrugged and said; “But ya got oxygen now, right?”

“Oui.”

“Then do me a favour and shut the fuck up.”

Before Spy could voice the witty remark teetering on the tip of his tongue, Scout’s thumb slid into the inside of his cheek again and he was once against occupied by a mouthful of cock. In an effort to avoid being choked by Scout, Spy started sucking as best he could with Scout’s thumb still in his mouth. Scout soon realized that his thumb was hindering Spy’s suction, and so he withdrew his thumb, instead tangling his hand in Spy’s hair.

Now that he had the ability to do so, Spy began sucking enthusiastically. He even went so far as to incorporate as much of head-bobbing movement as he could manage with Scout holding him down.

By the time Scout started bucking and twitching, Spy’s throat was burning and aching from the frequent stretching. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t dealt with before, but that really didn’t make it any more pleasant.

Much to Spy’s relief, Scout pulled back then, and he gulped down oxygen at a feverish pace. Scout crawled off of Spy and went digging into the pocket of his pants. After pulling a few candy bar wrappers and some lint from his pockets (with gratuitous swearing each time he pulled out a piece of garbage) Scout finally managed to fish out the square, biconcave item he had been looking for. He bit down on one corner of the condom’s wrapper and set to work undoing his belt and tugging his pants down.

Once his pants were bunched up at his knees and the rubber was rolled down over the condom, he hefted Spy’s legs up and allowed them to rest on his shoulders. From here he undid Spy’s belt and yanked his pants down, just enough to gain access to his ass and cock. As a last-minute thought, he also used Spy’s belt to bind his wrists together.

As usual, Scout pushed roughly into Spy with little more warning that a mumbled ‘here goes.’ In one fluid motion, he was balls-deep in the Frenchman, whose breathing had already picked up again in response to the pain. Scout never prepared him. In the months that they’d been fucking, Scout had never done it, and Spy doubted he ever would.

Spy teeth remained gritted and his jaw even tensed visibly when Scout pulled out and shoved carelessly back in. He felt like he was being torn apart, but still he knew that if he complained or let out so much as a gasp of pain, Scout would just go faster and harder.

Though Spy struggled to stay silent and made sure not to express the sensations racing through his nerves, Scout was the opposite. He had leaned down to more or less bend Spy in half and was babbling incoherent curses into his ear. It was truly a surprise (and the result of a good amount of luck) that no-one happened to walk by. With how loud Scout was, anyone within a good block or two of the dugout could’ve heard him.

“F-fuck!” He yelped. “Fuck, Spy, fuck – just! Spy, dad, just say somethin’, or I’ll give you a smack upside ya fuckin’ head!”

It was a moment before Spy gave any sort of response. It took Scout hitting him twice before he growled out his words: “Don’t call me dad. You make me feel like a dirty old man when you do that.”

Scout smirked wryly. “That’s ‘cause you are a dirty ol’ man.”

Spy made to make a clever comment but Scout chose to speed up the snaps of his hips. His no-doubt condescending and probably hilarious remarked dissolved into breathless moans and gasps of French praises as Scout took him. He didn’t need to know what the words meant to know that he was doing something really good.

“You like that, frog? Ya want more? More’a my cock?”

Spy nodded shakily and pushed his hips back down on Scout as hard as he could managed.

“Nah, man. Say it. Say you want my dick.” Scout smirked. “Beg me for it.”

“There is no way that you can ‘onestly expect me to do that. I have zis thing – perhaps you have heard of it – it is called ‘dignity.’ It is a good things, I can assure you, and it is also something zat I ‘ave quite a fondn-“ His voice caught in his throat when Scout ground into him and took his damp-tipped cock in hand. He gave it a squeeze.

“You’re gonna do it. You’re gonna do it, and you’re gonna make it real hot.” His thrusts slowed to shallow little dips of his hips. Though Scout wasn’t brushing his prostate anymore (or doing much of anything, really) the ache of Scout’s cock stretching out his insides was enough to drive Spy crazy. It was the kind of slow, agonizing burn that Scout knew made Spy desperate.

“S-s’il vous plait...” He said and gasped when Scout gave him a smack and said ‘in English, fag.’ Still, Spy could not for the life of him grasp his knowledge of the English language, so instead instead his pleas got only louder. “Ça va te plaire, Scout... ç-ça va te plaire! Geo-“

The backhand across the face had stung more than Spy cared to admit, but it was not entirely unexpected. Spy always wanted to call Scout by his given name, but Scout told him he was a creepy old bastard and hit him until he stopped calling him that. Even before finding out Spy was his father and they had only been lovers, Scout had always refused to call Spy by his given name. Too eerie. This time was no different.

“Spy!” He said and gave Spy another smack, with a bit less force this time. “Ya call me by my name again an’ I swear to whatever big scary God you worship that I will leave you here tied up an’ go back to base without you.”

That was it. The light to the fuse. Spy had had enough of Scout’s selfishness and the domineering way he ran their relationship. Spy was a mature adult and he didn’t need some kid shoving him down and ordering him around, in bed or otherwise.

“Do you know just what you can do, Geoffrey?” Spy said. Scout’s eyes bugged out a bit, but for once he said nothing. “You can go ahead and do that. Take the keys to the truck that you don’t know how to drive and drive it back to the base that you don’t know how to get back to you and leave behind the father that you don’t know how to treat with respect. Quite frankly, I think I’d rather not be near a son who treats me as if I’m not a human being.” He scoffed and spay blood from his mouth that had been accumulating through all of Scout’s abuse. “So go on. Do it. I implore you. In fact, I dare you to do it.”

Scout barely took a second to absorb Spy’s tirade before launching off into one of his own. “Yeah, well, I’ve had enough of you treatin’ me like a kid, Spy. I ain’t ya soon, even if it’s biological or whatever. You split from my ma when she needed help raisin’ me n’ my brothas, an’ I won’t forgive ya for that. I’d treat ya like a person if ya were one. You’re just a goddamn spy, good for nothin’ but lyin’ and cheatin’ and ruinin’ lives.”

Spy attempted to stutter out a less-than-sophisticated response, but all he managed was a babbled few syllables. Scout pulled out of him with next to no consideration. Spy let out a yelp and a bit of a dwindling whine at the new, empty feeling.

It wasn’t until Scout moved up off of him to crouch over him like he had done before and gripped the side of his head, forcing him to face forward that he found that he could not move his arms. He remembered that his arms had been bound with his own belt. He squirmed around a bit and spat out some protests, but it was no use. Scout just kneeled over him, straining erection jutting out dark and hard as a rock. From the evil grin on Scout’s face, he knew what was coming next.

When he saw Scout reach down to peel off the condom and grip himself, pumping ferociously, he closed his eyes and turned his head away. Scout brought his free hand down and gripped the side of his head, forcing him to face forward. He heard nothing more than the obscene skin-on-skin noise that Scout’s hand made as it worked at his cock frantically. On occasion, he could detect the heaviness of Scout’s breathing and the frequent curses tumbling from his throat. The sound of Scout’s hand grew slicker with time as precum dribbled from his tip and helped the act along. Before too long, Scout’s sounds went up a step or two and Spy braced himself. He knew the signs.

In the following few seconds, hot ropes of cum struck his face, making Spy groan and try to turn away. Scout’s hand on his face did not allow him to do so though. It globbed up under his eyes and nostrils, catching in his eyelashes and eyebrows. Scout never seemed to be done either. Just as he slowed down and his spurts weakened, he would tug another jet out, then another, then another. By this time settled in thick blobs in his hair and he could feel it growing tacky against his cheeks and mouth.

He didn’t try to move until Scout stood from his crouching position. He heard the sound of Scout’s cleats upturning gravel as he walked. As time went by, the sounds got quieter. Spy registered this instantly.

“Scout!” He shouted and received no reply. The footsteps continued. “Scout! Scout, where are you going?!”

The footsteps paused. “Since when did you care where I go? You’re actually actin’ like a real dad, now!”

“How very out of character of me.”

“Yeah!” Scout laughed. “’That Spy is a Spy!’”

“Very funny.” Spy scowled. “But off-topic. Where are you going?”

“Nowhere too bad, daddy. I won’t get in no trouble. I promise. Might even learn somethin’.”

“Learn something?”

“Yeah. How to drive a truck. I’ll tell Hardhat thanks for you.”



--


Chapter 4, un-beta'd


“-and that, gentlemen, is why, this week, the real enemy is not BLU. L’Administrateur said that we must do this, and now this is what our week will be devoted to.”

“Are you sure, Spah? Somehow, this don’t seem right...”

“I can assure you, Monsieur Ingénieur, these are orders directly from L’Administrateur ‘erself. We are to put our full effort into this, starting tomorrow morning.” When Engineer started again, Spy interrupted him. “In-base, I do not care ‘ow you feel about this, but on the field you are expected to adapt to this change and kill without hesitation.”

“C’mon, E ngie!” Scout clapped Engineer roughly on the back a couple times. “He’ll just respawn anyway, right? Ain’t no reason to hesitate!” Scout shouted, pumping his fist in the air. “Hell yeah! Killin’ BLU over an’ over again all week! Gonna be sweet!”

“Do NOT talk like that, MAGGOT! This new mission is NOT for your enjoyment and should NOT be taken lightly! This is an official mission, OBVIOUSLY issued by the superior officers at RED ITSELF! No amount of RECKLESS TEENAGE TOMFOOLERY can result in our failure! DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?!”

Scout rolled his eyes. “Crystal clear, Cap’n Crunch.”

Soldier leaned to reach around Sniper to get Shovel from his alphabetically-correct chair between Scout and Sniper.

Scout jerked up ramrod-straight in his chair and saluted stiffly. “SIR, YES SIR!”

“I dinnae understan’ whot it is we’re doin’ this foor... whot’d the lad doo?” Demo said.

“’E ‘as disclosed secrets of ‘is job with BLU to ‘is mother. Our dear Administrateur caught wind of this and became very agitated. She called me to a private meeting to pass this message along to me so that I may tell you fine gentlemen to do this in order to try and frighten the boy into silence.”

“So wot? Spend th’week scarin’ the kid up till he shuts his mouth, an’ then wot?” Sniper asked.

Spy pulled a cigarette from the inside pocket of his jacket and lit it. “Business as usual,” He said, smoke drifting from his lips as he spoke.

“An’ wot if ‘e don’ shut up?”

“Oh, ‘e will.” Spy took another deep drag and had to turn away from the team as he exhaled. Most of the group thought it was out of courtesy not to blow smoke at them (though they had never known Spy to be so pleasant) or dramatic effect or something. What they didn’t see was the toothy, sinister grin he had to turn to hide from his team, lest they question his sanity moreso than usual. “’E will not know what ‘it ‘im.”


--

Chapter 5, beta'd by cancel


Scout’s heart pounded in his ears, racing ahead of the tune of the music pouring from his earbuds. On the way back from the baseball diamond, Scout had stopped at the same gas station as before to change into his uniform and grab a snack.

While trying to decide on which kind of bubble gum he wanted to buy, he had spotted a white package sitting on the counter. Upon further inspection, he found that it was a package containing these really slick-looking earphones. He was impressed by how small they were, so he bought them. They had to be more aerodynamic (or whatever) than his clunky old headset, right? Engie had even built him a little pocket radio that streamed in a station from the next town over!

***

Shifting the straps of the RED intel slung onto his back, Scout bounded down the stairs three at a time and splashed forward into the sewers. He’d only met the RED Pyro, who waddled off shortly after dealing him a pretty severe burn. That said, he was doing really well, as he hadn’t seen anyone else, RED or BLU since he’d run across the bridge. He silently thanked Solly for his newest idiotic war tactic as he ran, since that had to be keeping all the REDs occupied.

He came to the midway point in the sewers and swung up onto the step to grab the medpack that he knew would be there. The Pyro’s fire had gone out, but extra health was never a bad idea. He froze when he saw what sat on the ledge instead of the medpack.

“M-ma?” He squeaked. There indeed sat his mother, legs crossed at the knee and hands folded in her lap. Her hair was perfectly-styled, as usual, and she wore the blue ribbon that Scout had sent her the first Christmas he’d been on base. She sat in what appeared to be one of the chairs from the dining room. The RED dining room. Scout narrowed his eyes and tightened his grip on his gun. This was obviously Spy, but why? “What’re you doin’ here, ma?”

“I just came to visit you, kiddo.” She smiled warmly at him and rose from her chair carefully. She ran her hands down her dress to smooth it out, then stood up straight and gazed at her son. Scout looked her in the eye, pale blue meeting its darker self. “Am I not allowed to visit my little boy?”

“Naw, ma, you’re allowed. It’s just... unexpected, is all.” He lowered his gun a bit, curious as to what Spy was going to do. “So uh... how’ve you been?”

“Oh, the usual. The other boys are still getting into all kindsa trouble, like always.”

“Ya miss ‘em?”

“Sometimes. It gets real lonely ‘round the house.” She paused a moment, then heaved a dreamy sigh. “Things’ve been betters lately, though.”

“Why’s that, ma?”

“Oh, you remember that fella I’ve been seein’? Marc?” Scout nodded slowly, and rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, I remember. What about him?”

“Oh, Geoffrey. I can’t even begin to tell you how great he is.” She sighed. “He makes me feel young again.”

Scout froze. “What?”

“You’re too young.” She shook her head. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“What’re you even sayin’, ma? I’m nine-fuckin’-teen!”

“This is far too mature for you, hon.” She reached up to mess with his hat, and smiled the kind of smile that only a mother could give. Unfortunately, Spy was doing a damn good job of faking it. “You just go back to your game now. I’ll check up on you later.”

“No,” Scout was curious now. What the hell was Spy playing at? “Tell me, ma.”

She levelled gazes with him, then sighed for the third time. “Alright. Since you wanna know so bad, listen up. Marc makes me happy ‘cause he makes me feel like a woman again.”

Scout stared on. He opened his mouth to express his confusion and mounting disgust when his mother continued.

“We just go at it like teenagers.” She flushed a bit and giggled, and Scout could not try hard enough to suppress the choking sound that pushed its way out. “He just fucks me up the wall! Most of the time I can’t even walk for a week after!”

“What the f-“

“Just like rabbits in springtime! He really wears me out... satisfies me in ways no man ever could.”

“No – fuck you – stop fuckin’-“

“The best ever was the time we did it in your room-“

“Fuckin’ – no – j-just – stop-“

“-must’ve done it seven or eight times in there that afternoon-“

“Don’t fuckin’ – no – don’t talk-“

“-on your bed, stained your Red Sox sheets-“

“Just – stop – fuckin’ stop talkin’-“

“-then he lifted me up onto our desk, the one where you keep all your comic books, and made a mess of those too-“

“My fuckin’ comics?!”

“Say, Geoffey, have you ever heard of ‘fisting’? Do you know what that is?”

“SPY. SHUT THE FUCK U-“

“I told him we couldn’t fit your signed Ken Harrelson baseball bat inside me, but he insisted on tryin’ anyway!”

“FUCK YOU!” Scout bellowed, pulling up his scattergun to place it to his mother’s skull. “See you after respawn, dad.”

A deafening crack sounded and the ringing in his ears didn’t stop until after he’d finished kicking the headless RED Spy’s corpse for good measure. Just as he turned away from the body to finish his intel run, he heard the worst sound any person could possibly hear after blowing the head off the enemy Spy and kicking his corpse bruised and broken while mumbling a mantra of ‘fuckyoufuckyoufuckyoufuckyoufuckyou.’

“Dead ringer.”

He heard Spy’s decloak and the next thing he knew, he was falling to his knees and puking up his breakfast all over the immaculate white floor of the respawn room. He was suffering from the worst respawn nausea he had ever felt in his two years of being on base, and it was all Spy’s fault.




--
Chapter 6, beta'd by cancel



“Demo, man, I just don’t get it. Didn’t any’a those RED chuckleheads kill at all today?”
“Noo, Ah dunnae think soo... but my memory might be a wee bit off,” He took a swig from his ever-present scrumpy bottle, as if demonstrating the reason his memory was so bad. “Why don’t you ask oor Spy?”

“Spies are my biggest problem.” Scout mumbled. Then he sighed. “No worries, pal. I’ll go ask Engie. Spy’s kind of a dick, y’know?”

Demo’s laughter boomed and he slapped his knee hard enough that Scout cringed at the very sound. “Aye, boyo. Yeh go do that.”
--
Engie was much more informative. The first thing he asked when Scout knocked on the door to the kitchen where he was making dinner was; “You sure got clobbered out there, son. Anything worryin’ ya?”

Scout decided to play dumb. It was easier than he thought it would be. “What do you mean I got clobbered, hardhat? Wasn’t the whole team sucking today?”

“Wish I could tell you that, String Bean, but you were the only one getting killed constantly out there.”

Scout gaped. “What, the rest of you guys didn’t even get killed once?”

“Well, sure as shootin’ we got ourselves killed, son. But didn’t you seem ‘em REDs? They wouldn’t shoot at us unless we shot at them first. It was dang peculiar.”

“What, they walked right past you when you were buildin’ and stuff?”

“Yep. Didn’t even seem to see me.” He looked up from the carrots he’d been dicing to gesture at Scout with his knife. That damned robot hand made Scout nervous. “But they hunted you like a pack’a wild coyotes after a scared lil’ jackrabbit. Couldn’t make sense of it.” He dumped the carrots into his massive cauldron of a pot and began slicing the celery.

Scout shrugged and slid moodily up to sit on the top of the stove, next to where Engie worked. “Yeah, but we always knew they were fuckin’ freaks. REDs, man. Fuckin’ REDs.”

“Then what’re you gonna do, Scout?”

“Gonna get ‘em back tomorrow, of course.” Scout lowered his voice and grumbled. “See how dat fuckin’ Spy likes a bat up the ass.”

“What?”

“Nothin’, Engie. You think dere’s a reason they’re doin’ this?”

Engine dumped the pieces of celery into the pot, tossing a handful of bouillon cubes in after them. He ran water into the pot and turned to regard Scout. “I can’t see nothin’ different about ya other than those fancy new earplugs you got.”

“What?” Scout sputtered. “Why the hell would that make a difference?”

“Now calm yerself down, son. I never said that was the main reason for some, I’m just sayin’ it’s a possibility.”

“Seriously? A new pair of earphones and they start hunting down onto me? That can’t be it.”

“Well there’s gotta be somethin’, else they wouldn’t be all on the same page, right?”

Scout nodded. “Yeah.”

Engie gave a pointed look at Scout. “Ass off the stove, boy. I need that space now.”

Scout slid off the stovetop and stepped aside, watching as the Texan lifted the pot out of the sink and set it on the stove where he had just been sitting. Engie reached over to turn the element on before slapping a lid down on the pot. Scout heaved an exaggerated sigh and Engie’s eye snapped up to look at him.

“What should I do, Engie? You’re smart. Help me.”

Engie was silent a moment. He brought his robotic right hand up and scratched at his jaw with it lightly. Scout shuddered. “Well, how about this: for tomorrow’s battle, you wear your old headset. See if that makes a difference.”

“Back to this earphone bullshit?” Scout rolled his eyes. “I told ya, hardhat. That ain’t gonna change nothing.”

“But it’s all we got to go on right now. Unless you have some better genius scheme?”

“Naw, man. I got nothing. Guess I’ll give it a try.”

“Sounds good. Now you clear on outta here. Grub’s just about done and you know how Heavy gets when you get your food first.”

“Fuck the fatty. I wanna stay in here.”

“Do you really want him to use his ‘lions in a pride’ metaphor again?”

“Are you kidding? That shit’s funny. Like how him and Soldier start arguing about which one of them is alpha of the pride of whatever the fuck.”

“Just go. Dinner’ll be out in a bit.”

“And then Sniper tells ‘em that guy lions hump each other to ‘establish dominance’ or whatever and that that’s maybe what they oughta do, and-“

“Out, or no dinner!”

“Alright, alright. Just lemme have a little taste test.” His hand reached for the pot. Lightning-fast, Engie pulled out open a drawer and whipped out a wooden spoon. He gave Scout’s hand a smack when he reached for the lid of the pot.

“Hands to yerself or ya lose ‘em.”

After the few seconds it took for those words to sink in, Scout jumped back as if electrified. His eyes ran laps between Engineer’s right hand, its long robotic fingers clasped around the handle of the wooden spoon, over to the standard BLU kitchen wooden knife block, as well as the spare knife Engie had been using resting on the cutting board. Robot hand. Wooden block full of knives. Hand. Knives. Hand. Knives. And the way Engie was leering at him didn’t help either.

“I... need to go... water... the uh... the CAT! YEAH! THE CAT! BYE!” Scout disappeared through the kitchen door with a slam, both his hands just as intact as he wanted them.
--
“Naw, you guys get started without me. Sniper can go down to my workshop and get the guitar if he wants. I’ll be out in a bit.”

“Engineer is sure he doesn’t want help? Can do dishes by himself?”

“Yeah, but be sure to save a spot for me ‘round the fire.”

“Engineer is credit to team!”

Engie grinned and scratched his head modestly, his metal fingers making light scraping sounds against his scalp. “Thanks, big feller.”

Engie waited until the sounds from the dining room had faded, until even Heavy’s deep, booming laugh was nothing more than a distant echo. He set the bus bin down and hung the apron up on the wall-mounted book, disengaging his disguise kit. His disguise crackled and fell and the RED Spy took a moment to enjoy a smoke before being on his way. Smoke finished, he still had one last thing to take care of.

He went to the tall kitchen broom closet and unlocked the door. He stepped back swiftly, because as soon as he unlocked the door, the unconscious body of the BLU Engineer fell to the floor with a heavy thud. Spy ground out his butt on the dusty tile floor and headed for the stairs. His heels clicked as he descended each stair, but none of the BLU team was around to hear him.

“Too easy.” He chuckled as he came out of the sewers under the 2fort bridge. His mind buzzed with the pleasure of knowing how perfect his plan was, and he silently thanked his Demo and Engineer for the parts they played. He was energetic and excited, but it wasn’t the time for excitement. It was the time for sleep. His plan would produce delightful results in the morning.

>>208 Love it, but your beta ain't the best. Missed a lot of errors.
IN chap 4, though, there's an easy one to miss that just bugs me. L’Administrateur should be L'Administratrice. One of those nouns that has a feminine version and a masculine one. Just for future reference.

GUUUURRRRLLLLL you just made my day

I'd love to see more of this fic too.

Hey, there was this one great fic, which didn´t got continued it seems to me. And i hoped that the author repost it here again, but alas all hope was in vain.

In this fiction the redteam was currently station in the north, where they tried to open a base of blue. Pyro was a englishman who were in a asylum before. Medic lost the old heavy to respawn. And the base was later deep down in the ground. Yeah, these were the main points. I love it, because it was creeepy and sexy and i loved Sniper in there because he was this selfloving bastard you just want to bone.

I know the author had a own website where he updated the betafic regulary.

Someone can help out?

>>212

That should just be in fanfic under "Magee"
He hasn't posted in a while, but he's still working on it.
I don't have an internet link, sorry about that.
I love that fic too.

I stumbled on the first chapter of behind enemy lines in the archive, i was wondering if anyone knows it the author had continued the story

bump up

Does anybody have that Engie/Spy fic where Engie straps a vibrator onto Spy and controls it with a remote, causing spy to pretty much go berserk? Google and archives turned up nothin

I'm looking for two pieces of fiction - one involves the Scout being used as a serving platter for the team's (Japanese?) dinner, and the other involves Sniper coaxing a mentally deficient Scout into giving him a blowjob. I seem to remember the latter caused a bit of fuss back in the day, so I'll understand if its not allowed to be reposted.

The "elusive' ending for you Ms. Kitten. Save it while you can!


Bunk Mates (PART 2 DUUR) Rachos 09/10/25(Sun)09:30 No. 6101
Even though his eyes were closed, Sniper felt wide awake.
It was now dawn. He didn’t have to be awake to realize that, what with those few telltale signs around him. He could hear the last of the crickets chirping their wistful tunes, all but drowned out by the early bird song calls. There was also that familiar burst of warm air that came through the window above his bed every once in a while. And that faint pattering of feet on gravel as one of the team members (probably Scout) was up and about, getting ready for the day’s fighting.
All as Sniper left his eyes closed, letting his other senses absorb the wonders of the world in a drowsy haze. Just like every other morning. Only this time it was different. This time he was with Spy… with Spy. He still couldn’t really believe it. But here he was, arms wrapped around the slumbering Frenchman, dick lying limp between the two of them, breathing in the scent of his hair and sweat through his balaclava. There. He did it. He finally worked up the courage and nerve to nail Spy down and have his way with him. There was no shame in it, was there?
Part of him still felt wrong about the whole thing. Part of him felt like he was on top of the world. Another part felt like doing it all again.
Jesus fuck what the fuck is wrong with me?
Damn Medic…that was some real great advice there. Now he was just as confused as he was before, if not, more. It was just like that time he caught his dad getting personal with two of the local girls from the town pub when he was eleven.
Trying not to think any more, he pulled Spy’s body closer to his chest, nuzzling into the nook of the man’s neck again. Yes, he was confused as hell. But that didn’t mean he was going to milk this moment for all it was worth. Being alone for so long meant that this was a rare drop of water in the sexual desert for him.
“Mm…”
All too soon Spy seemed to stir in his arms from his touch. So much for letting the moment last. With a lazy hand he found himself stroking Spy’s cheek. “…aahh… Snipeer?” Damnit, why the hell did that spook have to accent his name like that? It was enough to make him want to start grinding his hips into the man entwined with him again. With a low noise in the back of his throat, Sniper pulled Spy closer to ensure him that he was awake. The spy seemed to melt into his arms a little bit in response, burying his head into Sniper's chest, staying that way for a few minutes. Silence escaped into the world around them as they lay in the single bed, minds wondering and daydreaming…
“Are you ztill mad at me?”
“Eh?” Where the hell did that come from?
“Before when ve were fighting… before Medic came to us to tell us about our…” Sniper could imagine Spy’s trademark smirk work its way onto his face as he paused. “…our new zleeping arrangements.”
Oh. That.
“Nah, mate. Tha’ was ages ago.”
Sniper stayed silent for a minute, mauling it over in his head. Trying to push that luxurious feeling of companionship and sexual contentment away for a little bit so he could think with his usual mindset. He had been working on a ship in a bottle for quite some time, taking pride in how everything was coming along as he put it together with dexterity and care. All to have it smash to pieces in a few seconds.
“Ya know, me mum sent me that a month after I started working here.” Spy stayed quiet, still as a twig. “She said that I would have a lot of time to myself since I would be probably sittin’ around doing nothin’ while I’m waiting for people to shoot.” At the same time Spy and Sniper suppressed a snort. Yeah. Right.
“So she sent that thing to me. Slowly… Slowly I’d put little bits of it together. Probably just an hour a week if I was lucky. But then… when you dropped it,”
“Ven zat damn Scout pushed me while I was ‘olding eet, you mean.” Spy muttered darkly.
“Well, that was all my work. Gone. It’ll probably take ages to restore it all again… heck, I’m going to need ta get another bottle…”
“But what does zis ‘ave to do with-”
“I forgive you.”
Spy turned his head towards Sniper as much as possible, soon having to sit himself up a little so he was able to see his face properly. The sincerity in his voice was convincing and when he looked into his eyes he saw genuine emotions coming from the man. A warm feeling came over the Spy as he replied with a gentle smile then leaning down to give his lover a soft kiss on the lips. It didn’t get any deeper than that though as Spy climbed out of the bed and proceeded to get changed into his suit. After all- they both had work to do.
“I’ll see you after ze battle, mon ami.”
After Spy left the van Sniper still lay in the bed a bit longer. Now that his lover was no longer there to corrupt his thoughts he soon realized that he had been thinking of Spy as a lover. It wasn’t supposed to be like that- not at all. Sniper was supposed to just fuck him and then be done with it, yet the man couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe there was something else there. Love? No. Definitely not. It was just that Medic... that’s right. MEDIC! It was all that bastards fault! One thing Sniper didn’t get was what the man had to gain from this prank.
Sitting up from the bed he began to dress himself. There was a day of sniping for him to do and after that- he’d have a word with the doctor...
+++
Walking seemed to hurt a little for Spy. He gritted his teeth around the freshly lit cigarette in his mouth as he approached the door. All because he let Sniper all but fuck him raw last night. Drawing in on his stick of lit nicotine, he made his way out of Sniper’s van and shut the door quietly behind him. Today was going to be a good day. A hot day, judging by the bubble of heat that hit his face as soon as he stepped outside, but a good day all the same. Especially now that he had managed to get the whole Sniper ordeal out of his system. Now all he had to do was agree with Sniper tonight to never do that again and keep it a closely guarded secret until death took him. And he would never have to submit himself like that again.
Perfect.
A smirk played about his lips as he flipped out his butterfly knife, nimbly flicking it as he let his mind wander. Yes, everything was as he had hoped. That brief moment of sexual weakness was now behind him. Every time he thought of something, it never instantly looped back to Sniper’s face. With a flourish of the wrist, he slashed the open blade twice in the air horizontally before making a stabbing motion. Perfect. No hesitation what-so-ever. Already he could imagine the warmth of blood washing over his suit in those so familiar patterns. And the horrified faces of the BLU team wafted into his mind’s eye. Heavy, the idiot, feeling the cut and puncture all too late. The Demoman, spinning around wildly as he tried to wave a bottle of whiskey at the invisible offender before slumping to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut. And their Sniper-
Spy’s heart immediately flopped down a few notches in his chest.
The BLU Sniper. The exact doppelganger of the RED Sniper. The very same RED Sniper who was holding him in his arms not but a few minutes ago.
His knife clattered to the ground. Oh god, he thought it wasn’t possible. It crept up on him so silently and had him around the neck so quickly.
He now had feelings for Sniper.
Cigarette dangling precariously from his lips, Spy sucked in another deep breath to calm himself. Love? Ridiculous. He was probably overreacting. After all, he just came out of spending a sexual night with the man. The event wasn’t meaningful or romantic, it was just plain sex as if it were to pass the time. It wasn’t surprising if he couldn’t think of Sniper without letting his feelings wander a little. But how could he tell how far these feelings had blossomed? He saw the man every day, and their opinion of each other seemed to change by the hour.
Besides, he was a Spy. Spies lived dangerous lives. If Heavy bragged about being the strongest on the team, or if Pyro was proud of his flammable abilities, Spy was proud of his ability to backstab and infiltrate the enemy compound. He had to give up his identity before all of this; his old life was now a forbidden zone that he could no longer return to. Assuming he would get out of this crazy war in the next few years. But he could easily make a new identity. He could easily blend in with the crowd once more unable to be discovered as being that ‘goddamn Spy from the old days’. But if the BLU bastards got wind of him having a relationship of any kind… they would be in danger. It was one thing for Spy’s life to be on the line, but he didn’t want to let anyone live in fear of being hunted and exploited as bait for Spy to turn himself in and hand over information on the REDs.
Fucking was one thing, love making was another.
That wasn’t love making. Spy constantly told himself that he couldn’t allow it; he couldn’t really afford to have feelings for anyone. With a Spy there was no happy ending in terms of love. Being involved with him was far too risky and in the end someone gets hurt, however he was afraid that maybe it was too late to escape it.
But was it true? Was he in love with Sniper? His thoughts were all over the place. Bending down to pick up his butterfly knife, Spy paused, intrigued by his hand. It was trembling. How could his concern for a backwater pissing jar man cause him to shake like a timid animal?
“Eet ‘as just been five minutes ever since you stepped out of ze van. Relax. Things vill probably be back to normal by nightfall.”
Dragging on the last of his cigarette, Spy spat it out onto the sandy earth and stepped on it purposefully as he strode towards the RED building complex.
+++
Miss. Miss. Shit!
Sniper made a quick duck for cover as the Heavy he was trying to kill finally caught on his location and began to fire back at him. As he lay still behind the thick impenetrable wall he growled in annoyance as it was clear that the sex from last night had done nothing but make matters far worse. It was like being on fire and trying to put yourself out with gasoline. Sniper had just made ten attempts to shoot that big ugly head and still couldn’t even graze the man with a bullet. What was going on with him?
Surely sex with Spy would have stopped him from obsessing over the man. Maybe he was just feeling way too strange from sticking his dick inside another man’s ass and it wasn’t emotional attachment at all. Then he began to tell himself that he was in denial and that there really was something there... Why on earth would he think things like that? This was just... like a fucking tumour that needed to be cut out... and burnt... and promptly pissed on before stamping on it until there was nothing left of it.
Now that his location was discovered he needed to move somewhere else otherwise he was just asking to be killed- something he wouldn’t allow himself to do. He needed to talk to Medic and there was no way he would wait till tomorrow to do so.
A stray bullet went over his head, barely grazing the top of his hat. Swearing, he scooted lower as the jeering cries of Heavy wafted over the battlefield. This was just crazy. He fucked Spy to stop thinking about him! It was the exact opposite of what he wanted to do.
The faint sound of feet running on steel jerked him back to reality; The enemy Scout was running along the roof on the top of the RED’s base, scurrying around and trying to find a way in. At the same time, the whirr of the minigun faded, signalling to Sniper that it was time to try and get another shot in. Maybe on that Scout. As soon as the boy swung himself down onto the battlements Sniper took a shot.
It missed terribly.
Swearing, the Boston turned around and glowered at his enemy. “Crap.” Sniper’s voice was low as he grabbed his kukri nearby, somehow managing to dodge the aluminium bat as the Scout ran towards him and swung. And all the while in the back of his mind, Sniper kept on thinking back to his peaceful moments with the Spy.
This had to stop today.
+++
By the end of the day Sniper had managed to survive, though he had barely done anything helpful for the team due to his terrible mindset. It was amazing he was still alive today actually, usually if someone was lacking focus for even a second it’s just enough time to lose a chunk of brain. Sniper quickly walked to the ward, ignoring everyone on the way. If Medic wasn’t alive and in his office then he probably wouldn’t survive the next day- or worse, he may crack and somehow spill the fact that he slept with Spy. Urgh now that would be a disaster. Day after day, countless mockery and insults over their being fags. Even if they died they’d return the next day and continue to bag them out. Reputation; it can take a lifetime to build and only a second to break it.
Without even bothering to knock, Sniper opened the door and walked into the cold room. The cold... empty room. Fuck. Was Medic dead? No he couldn’t be dead. Ok well it was possible for Medic to be dead but of all days, why did he have to die today? Sniper’s frustration built as he balled his hand into a fist and unleashed his fury into the medicine cabinet.
“GOD FUCKING DAMMIT!”
“Vould you please NOT damage mine ward!?” A German bark came from behind him.
Sniper turned around to come face to face with the RED Medic. He was both relieved to see him, yet incredibly furious for the obvious reason.
“You perverted fucking scoundrel!” The Aussie shouted as he grabbed Medic’s coat with both hands and shoved him violently against the wall. “That was some fucking great advice you gave me! Now I’m worse than ever!”
Medic had a shocked expression plastered on his face from being suddenly attacked, only to be more confused about what the Sniper was yelling at him.
“Vat?”
“I fucked the Spy just like you told me to. Now I’m totally screwed over in the head! What now huh!?”
Medic’s face went completely blank, soon mouthing the classic ‘Ah...’ His hands moved up to Sniper’s and gently got the man to let go of him. He adjusted his glasses as he took a slow breath to try and fully grasp the situation, also thinking of how to break the news to Sniper in a way that wouldn’t overly enrage him.
“Sniper. Vhy don’t you take a seat?”
Though the man was still furious he walked over to a chair as calmly as possible and sat down. He looked up at Medic like he was about to get the birds and the bees talk from his father.
“Yes?”
“Sniper... I never told you to have intercourse vith anyone... Spy swindled you into sleeping with him...”
The man just stared like his world had just exploded.
”SPY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
The Frenchman was sitting in the van and he could hear the scream coming all the way from the ward. Calmly taking a drag from his cigarette he looked up to the ceiling with a very dull expression.
“Oh dear, I do believe I’m in trouble.”
Not 10 seconds later did the camper van door get smashed open by a rough kick, revealing the silhouette of a mad man wielding a large knife.
“You son of a bitch!” Sniper shouted as he charged in and tried to cut the man’s head off.
Spy quickly ducked and moved to the side, hearing the dull thunk as metal met wood.
“Calm down now, mon Snipe.”
“CALM DOWN? CALM DOWN!? You completely fucked me over!” Sniper’s face was aflame with rage, wrenching his kukri out of the bench with seemingly no effort.
“Well actually you fucked me.” Spy replied with a slight smirk, it soon vanishing as he was nearly gutted by another swing.
“You think this is fucking funny!?” The Australian roared as he swung his knife around like a wild man, his rage rising as Spy lightly dodging every attack. “Ya played me! Played with my mind all this time!”
Spy’s dodging stopped as he felt his back against the wall of the van. He looked down the shining steel that was now millimetres away from his throat, its owner wearing a face of pure fury as his chest rose and fell.
“Vell, you’re certainly upset about something you so enjoyed not too long ago, yes.” He couldn’t help but like a chuckle work his way out of his throat, feeling the steel brush slightly against his balaclava. Sniper’s face flushed even further and the temptation to just slit the man’s throat just climbed even higher.
“Don’t ya fuckin’ try and sweet talk your way outta this!”
“Oh, but I do not vant to, mon Snipe.” With a flick of his wrist, Spy’s butterfly knife was out and pointed at Sniper’s throat in a similar threatening fashion. “I believe you prefer to get ‘ands on with me, no?” Something flickered behind Sniper’s sunglasses as Spy continued to talk. “You want to take me, Snipeer. I know you do. You vant me to learn not to cross you again.” With a casual glance, Spy looked down at Sniper’s hand. Lovely. Shaking like a leaf. He kept his trademark smirk down this time though. “I saw it in your eyes last night. You wanted to do zo much with me…”
“Stop it.”
“Quelquefois je vous déteste tellement que je vous aime.”
Sniper grit his teeth as the man he was yearning to murder spoke something he didn’t understand. That faggot, constantly saying things to him in French like it was some secret. It pissed him off. A lot of things were just pushing him on edge actually. He hated how he was deceived like that, he hated that he had just told Medic what he had done, he hated that he couldn’t bring himself to actually kill Spy. Most of all, he hated that he still wanted more of that infuriating Frenchman. Why him? Why did it have to be him? Throwing his kukri away at the last second, Sniper yanked the knife out of Spy’s hand and mashed their lips together. Still feeling rather livid from everything he was far from gentle as he pushed Spy’s back to the wall, adding his weight onto him and leaving a bit of a Spy-shaped dint in it.
As Sniper felt himself getting into the exact same thing he did last night the back of his mind was just shouting out how much he’d regret this afterward. However, Spy seemed to give him the ability to just not care for that moment.
Now he could feel Spy squirming, trying to obtain some small control of the situation. Through the kisses a wolfish grin encompassed Sniper’s features, using his hands to pin those busy hands above the coiling body now underneath him. He’ll be damned if Spy was going to get that lovely treatment from last time. Almost just to prove his point, he sank his teeth into the bottom lip of the Frenchman. A beautiful cry rose out of the man’s throat. It just awakened something inside of him.
Gripping one hand around both slender wrists, Sniper started to explore the body he was now fairly familiar with. Those sharp angles of shoulders meeting those slender arms built for stealth and murder. That chest, now rising and falling at an elevated pace, hidden by all those layers of clothing, hiding away that lean torso…
That had to change.
With lightning hands, Sniper brought his hands down to the Spy’s chest, now keening for the man’s touch, despite being pressed firmly against the wall with an elbow now. Gripping onto the jacket, the Australian undid the two huge buttons impatiently, revealing the more complicated suit shirt underneath. It’d take ages to get this all undone. Moving both hands down, he ripped unceremoniously ripped the shirt apart. Some of the buttons slipped out of their holes quite nicely. Others weren’t so lucky. A gasp of shock erupted from Spy as he heard the ripping of fabric. It was quickly was silenced as Sniper returned to their make out session, driving any protest that was bubbling forth from his lips back into his mind to be forgotten.
Hands now free, Spy let them wander around to Sniper’s back, pulling him closer quite roughly. Just by that touch Sniper could feel his already pulsing erection stain that little bit more in his pants, heat pooling southward in his body. Just how could one man do this to him? How could a few murmurings and a coax in a foreign language undo him in such a way? With a moan, he started to let his mouth explore the pale chest before him, licking and sucking at parts of the exposed flesh like a starved animal. Judging from the way the moans above him were increasing in intensity, he was doing something good. The licks quickly escalated to nips and bites, particularly favouring the area around the man's nipples. He could feel the gloved fingers of Spy dig into him every time he approached the now tenderised area, hissing every time teeth made contact with skin.
Those same fingers worked their way down to his hips, grabbing wildly for a belt as Spy started to roughly kiss his neck. Smirking into skin, Sniper drew himself back up to his normal height so that he could do the same. With two swift moments, two belts were tossed aside carelessly before the two rammed their mouths together once more. Sniper's slacks were already starting to crumple around his ass as he unbuttoned and unzipped himself as fast as he could with one hand. Leaning in as he fished his member out (he had to restrain himself from shivering from his own touch), Sniper breathed huskily into Spy's ear.
"I'm goin' ta fuck you raw for this." He could feel Spy's member twitch against his leg, the one extra push to get right into it.
As Sniper proceeded to fumble around Spy’s pants he managed to find the lube they had used the previous night, placed neatly in his rear pocket. The bastard still had it. For a brief second he had the temptation to throw the tube away and fuck him without any lubrication at all, however he had easily imagined doing such a thing would be something like fucking sandpaper. The liquid was quickly poured onto his palm so he could rub it on his member, his pants still loosely wrapped around his waist. Spy’s were in the same position but only for a few seconds as the rough hands gave a firm yank and getting them to drop to the floor. A hand snaked around Spy’s leg and grasped lustfully around the back of his upper thigh yet it was almost painful with how tightly the man was pinching his skin. His leg was soon lifted up into the air and placed around his partner’s waist. With one hand, Sniper hastily guided himself in before he moved it around Spy’s other leg that had yet to be plucked into the air.
Sniper was far from gentle as he showed the man no mercy, roughly thrusting into him and ignoring any pleas for him to slow down. Shamefully the cries of pain only fed to Sniper’s current lust for angry sex. His pants soon dropped to around the man’s ankles as the friction caused the material to slowly slide from the waist.
Spy could only wrap his arms around Sniper as he was viciously slammed into repeatedly. His gloved hand dug into the nape of Sniper’s neck, the man was lucky that glove were still there because after the fierce bite he had suffered the night before the pain could’ve only been far worse. At this stage, it was aching but endurable. The two of them didn’t bother to be quiet as they let out short gasps and low moans.
They soon took the activity to the floor as it was beginning to get a little tiring for Sniper to maintain their position much longer. He wasn’t going to let his fatigue assist Spy in getting out of his punishment. Spy’s back violently hit the wooden floor boards, that was probably his only break from Sniper’s harsh treatment as everything quickly picked up again.
Eventually the pain turned into fiery pleasure and eagerly Spy moved along with Sniper. He wanted more. Eyes half lidded, he pulled himself up to Sniper’s ear.
“H-harder...”
Sniper couldn’t help but grin. How could he say no to that? Angling himself again, he thrust in as hard as he could. He hoped the bastard’s asshole was bleeding from it all. A few minutes of thrusting, biting, and clawing later and Spy let out a gasp. Seems like he found a good spot there. Curious, Sniper thrust forward again, getting a similar reaction. This time it was a longer gasp, threatening to become a moan. He must have been doing something right to get that out of Spy of all people. Slowing the pace a bit, Sniper did his best to keep hitting that spot again and again.
“Ya like that don’t cha, ya little mongrel?”
Spy responded with a strong nip to the wrist that beside his head.
Gritting his teeth in dissatisfaction, he leaned forward and let his hips do the work. He couldn’t really move his hands anywhere else without being sprawled all over Spy’s chest. So he curled his hands into fists and kept on riding, trying to ignore that sly smirk mixed in with Spy’s face. Without much warning, Spy took the fist closest to him and drew it close, ignoring how Sniper was now starting to become quite unbalanced and started to chomp and suck at his fingers.
When he ran his tongue over his palm, Sniper couldn’t help but come undone. Letting out an unusually aggressive howl as his hips snapped forward and rode into Spy's rump. Spy quickly let go after that, silent in contrast, hissing through clenched teeth as his seed spilt over the floor.
+++
Sniper lay on the wooden floor looking up at the ceiling, not bothering to swat Spy away from him as he curled up near his body like a content house cat. While the feeling of another release had put most stress away, the main thought in his head was still hanging there like a dark cloud.
“Fuck. I did it again.”
--
Sniper awoke the next morning to the scent of what he would’ve wanted to be Spy’s scent. Unfortunately it was a filthy sock covering a foot, placed right beside his face. In a way it was still Spy’s scent... just a really disgusting one. A hand quickly slapped the foot away from him as he lifted up his head to see Spy had been sleeping with his head at Sniper’s feet.
“Urgh, mate. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t rub your smelly ol’ feet in my face.” He growled and rubbed his own feet in his partner’s face just to spite him. The balaclava moved around a bit so the eye holes were no longer showing his eyes but a part of his messed up hair. It was probably the most Sniper would ever see under that mask of his.
“I didn’t mean to-ECK!” The Frenchman flinched instantly and cursed in his native tongue as Sniper’s old sock, probably gone unwashed for five years, proceeded to rub itself up against his face. Tch. Fantastic. Blindly he swung his foot to the side a bit and started to try and shove his own foot up Sniper's nose in retaliation.
Spy moved to sit up but in doing so he attacked Sniper’s foot with his own face and fell off the mattress. Sniper felt both victorious and a little concern for Spy’s well-being, but when you’ve died hundreds of times it’s not like their little fight was going to hurt more than a bullet... or rocket... or a giant vortex of flames leaping out at you, come to think of it. Spy got up, fixing up the balaclava first before beginning to dust himself off like he had just landed in a dirt pile. He let off a small smile towards Sniper to relieve of any possible concern he was having then soon left to get changed.
So it was two nights in a row now they’d had sex. Both times Spy was no longer around did Sniper fully grasp what he had done and regained the feelings of confused emotions towards the man. Sniper could’ve passed the first fuck off as lacking a woman and having those sexual needs and Spy being able to fulfil those needs. But when you fuck the same man, twice , in two consecutive evenings it’s time to question your sexuality.
Well I was pissed off... Spy had to be punished... And what better way to get revenge than to provide angry sex? That’ll win the war. What the hell, were this 3 weeks ago he killed Spy just so he could have a bed alone, if he was pissed off at Spy then his form of punishment would be to an ass full of kukri, not dick.
Thankfully no one knew about this- oh wait, scratch that. He fucked that part up too by openly admitting to Medic that he had sex with Spy. The whole team probably knew by now and were laughing it up over a sausage breakfast.
Sniper groaned at the possible scenario as he dragged his feet to get ready for the day.
+++
Spy went in another direction from Sniper as they left the van, like they always did. Neither of them was willing to risk revealing their close relationship in any possible way. An ideal image they would’ve loved was for the team to think that they still detested each other but men were just as big gossipers as women. Rumours were probably floating about before anything between them had actually happened.
If their team mates found out then the worst they would get was a few insults for a few days then the occasional gay joke, but if they honestly thought they could insult Spy and not expect to receive a broken arm or a knife in the back then they had another thing coming. Eventually the team bullshit would stop. It always did.
However, it was the enemies that he was more concerned about. Every man had their weakness and once it was found they were easy to beat. Spy had nothing that anyone could use against him until now. Yes, there was no denying it on his end, he cared for that bastard as much as he didn’t want to. If there was a switch you could flick that would allow you to not have feelings for someone anymore then he’d hit that switch in a heartbeat with no hesitation or regret. Love doesn’t like to work that way unfortunately. Were his weak spot to be found out by BLU there was not a doubt in his mind that they would use it to their utmost advantage. He’d be dammed if he’d allow such carelessness to get in the way of his career.
He looked across the field and saw the team's friendly Pyro give the quick greet and flee. Spy responded with a slight nod before holding up his watch and going invisible. With a quick play of his fingers the butterfly knife flew in his hand gracefully before staying in its deadly form, ready to kill any unsuspecting victim. His first target was always the easiest. It took barely any effort at all. All he had to do was watch. Wait. Listen. And step forward and stab when the enemy's guard was down at just the perfect moment. Of course, there were sentries to look out for, but those were not much of a problem with his sapper. He stood over the Engineer’s corpse and his quickly malfunctioning sentry, dropping a cigarette on him before walking further into the base. The more offensive part of the line-up was outside fighting against RED’s own offence. As usual. Sometimes BLU would be so careless to just not guard their base well enough, or they had that much faith in their Engineer to keep everything nice and secure. He couldn't help but smirk to himself as he nudged the doughy body at his feet, watching as the limp form was starting to grow cold and stiff.
Spy began to go transparent again as he recloaked. Stealthily moving around the base and moving to a window where he could see the outside where his colleagues where fighting. He grasped on what was going on as the fight wore on, listening in the corner as he heard some of the more defensive members of the team rally commands back and forth. He knew just the very member of the BLU team that needed to be killed so his team mates could succeed. A loud shot of a sniper rifle went off and the RED Pyro fell right to the ground as he was running. Another shot and they had just lost their Demoman. Medic, Soldier and Heavy quickly gathered how in danger they were in their current position and ran behind a building safe from the Sniper’s range. Funny. Three of the more formidable personalities on the team, running for cover at the hands of this one Sniper. Spy quickly disguised himself as BLU’s recently deceased Engineer before dropping his cloak. He had seen how this Sniper worked too many times now. Just like clockwork, now that his targets had taken cover, Sniper quickly gathered his effects and started to get the hell away from the window. A smart man would move to somewhere else after all. Otherwise the survivors would know where to aim.
As if to prove its point, a rocket hit the window and tore a good chunk off of it. Spy suppressed the urge to bury his head in his hand. Goddamnit Soldier.
Sniper ran past Spy, climbing up a ladder to get to a higher hide. He followed behind him, as silently as a Spy after climbing up the ladder he saw that Sniper was already searching through the scope leaving his back fully exposed. Dropping his disguise, Spy felt his mouth slip into his signature deadly smile. Too easy...
+++
With the constant distractions playing out in his head, Sniper sat in a quiet spot waiting for enemies to walk on by. There were probably better places he could be, places where he’d be more productive and helpful to everyone but right now he wasn’t as efficient as he usually was. Efficiency. It was one of the three professional standards he lived by and right now was failing to do two of those. Be polite, a silent moment and a tilt of the hat was always given. Be efficient, he hadn’t even killed anyone in a few days now, at most it was just some wounds inflicted. Have a plan to kill everyone you meet. Everyone meant everyone. Even your team mates because you never know when they could just turn around and stab you in the back. Ironic that he was having feelings to the one man that took pride in stabbing backs.
Sniper wondered if Spy was struggling to do his job just as much as he was. It worried him a little- tch god, why was he worried? Spy was a man that could take care of himself. Right? In the corner of his eye he saw a flicker of movement, as quickly as he could he looked through the scope. His counterpart was looking directly at him from his own scope. A quick glance downward revealed a BLU laser light shining right on his chest. Aiming for his heart.
Shit!
He expected to have a chest full of led straight away but the shot never came. Another glance down and the light was gone. Getting lower he peeked through the scope to see that Sniper had been distracted by none other than Spy. That man had just saved him, whether he had intended to or just wanted to do his job, he didn’t know. What was he thinking? Spy was just doing his job, from all the way up there he couldn’t have possibly known BLU Sniper was aiming at him... Did he just feel a little disappointed by that? Sniper shook his head and snapped back into reality, instead of sitting around he should’ve been aiming at his mirror image. As he pulled his rifle up to take aim he looked just in time to see Spy fall from the height.
+++
Spy had him... he had the perfect chance and the perfect chance did not wait for you to take it. As he had lifted the balisong up to stab, his hand was frozen in place. Almost as if it refused to slam deep into the man’s spinal cord. Was it simply because Sniper looked exactly like his Sniper? Many of times Spy had secretly sat behind the RED Sniper while he was meant to be out there spying? Carelessly leaving himself exposed for a surprise attack, yet zeroing in on a target that would be dead with the pull of a trigger. It was rather amusing to just watch how long he’d last before he even bothered to check if he was there.
Spy was quickly reminded that this Sniper wasn’t the one he cared for as his presence was noticed and was attacked. Now he was fighting for his life, dodging and ducking and trying to get a lucky stab in because he wouldn’t be able to sweet talk this Sniper into dropping his large knife. He moved to the left, then to the right but wasn’t so lucky in evading the harsh kick in the chest. Spy lost wind immediately; temporary stunned, but it was enough for this Sniper to make an attempt at a kill. Doing all he could Spy tilted his body slightly and the kukri struck down his shoulder, missing a soft patch of neck. He could feel the cold blade wiggle around as Sniper tried to remove it.
“Get off my knife.” He smirked finally pulling it out by pushing him away with his foot, at the same time kicking him out of the high hide to plunge to the water below them.
That display of delay was perhaps the most revolting act in his career as a Spy. A perfect opportunity at backstabbing, and he threw it away thanks to some heavy breathing and a wandering mind. He had delayed because he was thinking about Sniper. That was it. He was in far too deep with him. Sniper had made him feel so complete and content in these past few days, but… and had to end here. He felt cold as his eyes slowly closed, waiting for his life blood to leek out of him until there was nothing left but the black abyss of the murky water.
And yet... there was some warmth...
+++
The ward was cold. Spy lay still in his bed, his original bed. The bed that he gave up that started all of this damn mess. Sniper sat by his side as he watched him rest. They were able to save him but barely. Sniper had stupidly left his position and gone off to save his fallen comrade. It was idiotic and careless and completely unprofessional but he couldn’t bear to just leave Spy like that. Maybe he had done it because Spy had just saved him... What was the big deal anyways? If Spy died he’d be back the next day. All of the team were pretty much immortal...
Still, seeing Spy in this awful sight just pained him. It filled him with regret that he couldn’t have done anything to protect him. He could’ve taken the shot if he wasn’t too busy freezing up, thinking he was already dead. Talk about selfish. Even when he did realize he was still alive, it took him some time to actually pick his gun up again. It was his fault. All of it.
Medic came into the ward to see Sniper sitting at his side. Sniper looked at him like he had just been hit with a spotlight but soon lowered his guard. He wasn’t all that enthused to face Medic after what he bluntly confessed to him about fucking Spy the day before, but since he already knew about them it wasn’t doing much more harm to see him like this. This, being his caring side towards Spy or his caring side in general to be frank. Besides, only Medic could’ve saved him from death. Death may not sound like a big deal when they kept returning from the dead more times than Goku from Dragon Ball Z, it was still the most excruciating thing to ever go through. Some were quick and the pain didn’t last that long. Some were slow if they weren’t hit in the vital area, like Spy's would have. Any of them would pick surviving against dying.
“You know I’m surprised that you brought him here.” Medic finally said, walking closer to the bed so he could check up on his patient. “After vhat he did you still felt compelled to save him. Vhen just a few weeks ago you vould’ve let him die.”
“Things change,” he quietly replied. “I guess your plan worked.”
Medic gave a light smile then proceeded to inspect the wound. Probably the plan didn’t go exactly as Medic had intended, really he just wanted them to put their differences aside so it was less screaming he’d have to listen to... though now he and probably everyone else on the team were going to have to start enduring a different kind of screaming. Thank god the van was further away from the base otherwise no one would get much sleep. Medic closed up the patch again and took down some notes then rummaging through his things to grab the medigun. The healthy red aura washed over Spy. It didn’t fix him completely, at most it eased the pain and helped seal up the dreadful slash on his body faster.
“He’ll be fine by tomorrow afternoon. “
Sniper raised an eyebrow. If he had died he would’ve been ready to fight by tomorrow morning. “Geez... maybe I should’ve just left him then.”
“It’s fine. You know vhat zey say. Vhat doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. I’m sure Spy could use a break anyways.” Sniper wondered if Medic thought he was better off dead also but was just saying this to make him feel better. “You should go now.”
“I’m fine here.”
“You being here won’t make him recover faster. You need your rest too. Go on. Doctor’s orders.”
Since Medic was speaking in a more gentle tone, Sniper knew that if he continued to disagree that would soon change.

The walk to the van felt just like any walk, but of course when he opened the door and walked in it just felt a little empty. Good lord, did he just get so pathetic that now he couldn’t stand one night without Spy actually there? He grumbled to himself and fell back on the bed, lazily kicking off his shoes and taking off his aviators. His legs dangled over the edge while he looked up at the ceiling. All this felt much more different than any of the past relationships he’d ever been in. There was definitely something more, he knew it but his pride was constantly getting in the way of actually accepting it.
Sniper turned his head to see one of Spy’s ties messily lain right beside him. His hands trailed up to grab the material and pull it up to his head. It gently rested on his lips as he inhaled the scent. He couldn’t stop thinking about Spy. He lusted for him. He hated seeing him in pain and now he didn’t like the idea of him not being there after hours. There was no way he could keep running from the truth on how he felt.
"Fuck... I'm in love with that bloody spook."
Just like that it felt like a huge weight was lifted off his chest and boy did it feel good. Even if he was feeling awfully conflicted and somewhat disgusted at himself, what more was there to lose? His dad’s respect? Sniper had already lost that long ago when he decided to follow this sort of career, so adding ‘By the way, dad I like dicks’ wasn’t going to make much of a difference to what he thought.
There was still the unfilled void of not having told Spy. Already he knew that would change, a plan was formulating in his head. He’d tell him tomorrow.
For the first time in weeks, Sniper slept without a care in the world.
+++
When Spy woke up it was the next morning. He made an attempt to sit up but winced and let out a soft curse at the sudden sting of pain in his shoulder. He still hurt? It took him less than a few seconds for him to realize that he was in the ward. Somehow he had survived that attack yesterday.
“Guten morgen.” Medic said as he was grabbing the supplies he thought he’d need for the day, soon walking over to give a quick check-up.
“Bonjour...” Spy replied, lying back down.
“You’re healing up nicely.” He said grabbing the medigun and giving him a healthy dose of healing waves. Now the cut was gone and all was left was a scar. Spy attempted to sit up again and only winced a little. The area still hurt but it felt better. He knew he wouldn’t be able to fight today though.
“Thank you.”
Tsk. He should’ve died. He deserved to die after that shameful display of ‘spying’. What a joke he was turning himself into. Spy knew it had to stop, he couldn’t continue down this path. Not with Sniper.
“Oh, und Spy?” Medic said pulling Spy away from his thoughts. “I have some news for you.”
+++
Sniper was having a good day already. Not a single shot missed. Maybe it was because he finally accepted how he felt, there was nothing to get him stressed. He hadn’t seen Spy in the morning but he had planned to go to the ward when the battle was over. His hands did shake a little due to the anticipation of actually talking to Spy about it. To be honest he didn’t know how he would go about it, you don’t wanna go in there and say ‘I love ya, mate.’ No... Definitely not. 'I can't live without ya, spook.' No, that wasn't the way to say it either...
Ah well, he knew he’d have the words when he saw him.
When the siren went off, signalling five o'clock and the end of yet another bloody battle. Sniper slouched the rifle over his shoulder and began to head over to the ward. Yet when he got there the place was completely empty. The bed was done up and the suit was gone.
“Guess he was let out early...”
+++
Spy simply sat in silence, absorbing what Medic had just told him. “...Good.” Spy forced himself out of bed while doing his best to ignore the pain. He could tell Medic wanted him to stay put and he knew why when he struggled to even pull on his bloodied shirt and suit. He didn’t care though. “Do you know where Sniper is?”
“Zniping. I’d assume.” Medic replied. "It iz not even lunch time yet."
All he gave was a simple nod before going to leave.
“Oh and Spy...”
Spy turned his head back slightly. What did Medic want now?--
In astounding speed, Medic was all but an inch away from his nose, Ãœbersaw in hand and dangerously close to his throat. Ãœbersaw? What had he done wrong now?
“If I ever find you trying to imitate me again... I vill make you my latest experiment. You can do whatever you like to zese imbeciles on zer team, but if you try and masquerade as me again...” The touch of cool metal met heated skin as the Medic's voice seemed to transform into something far more sinister. "...zen I guarantee you, it shall be ze last time anyone vill have seen or heard of you fully functioning with all of your organs and limbs intact."
Spy slowly swallowed but his expression maintained his calm expression. Any retort that was on the tip of his tongue danced and died as he locked eyes with the German. Well he shouldn’t have expected to have gotten away with acting like Medic without being threatened for it. Only when the saw and its owner were a safe distance away as Medic turned his heel did he allow himself to relax. A small smirk crept onto his face before turning to leave the ward.
+++
Sniper headed straight to his camper van after visiting the ward. Where else would Spy be? Though talk about making his anxiety grow. He wanted to see him, hold him. Tell him how he felt. What else could he do? Once he had his mind set on something there was no use stopping him. His hand reached out to the door knob. He took a deep breath before opening the door.
The place was empty. Spy wasn’t there.
+++
“By the way, Spy. I have some news for you... Your mattress arrived this morning. It was put in your room.”
“...Good... Do you know where Sniper is?”
“Zniping. I’d assume.”
This couldn’t have worked out better for him. He knew he needed to get away from Sniper and what luck that his bed were to finally arrive. After being threatened by Medic he had gone to the van and began packing his things. The place was in a bit of a mess- not anywhere near as horrible like when he first arrived. There were some clothes scattered on the floor and the wall was damaged from when he was shoved against it. Not too far away from that was a slice in the wall from when Sniper tried to cut his head off just yesterday. The memory of the look on his face, flaming red and his neck veins looking as if they were going to burst... Spy couldn’t help but grin.
He looked over to the side of the van that Sniper sat at most of the time. He’d always look out that window, almost like he was on a job and sniping from inside the van. On the floor below the seat was a cigarette butt. Probably the same one that burnt the small hole in Snipers pants not that long ago.
Turning away from these memories he walked over to the bed. On the floor there was a light blood stain. It was obviously from when Spy murdered Sniper on his second night there. Despite all his efforts, Spy couldn't get all of the blood out. Sniper had let it absorb into the wood for far too long. His eyes drifted to the mattress and suddenly flashes of him and Sniper writhing in a sensual rhythm went through his head. With what Spy was doing he began to feel lonely. Cold. He shook his head as he tried to push the memories aside. This was why he needed to leave. This was the path he had chosen. If it meant living alone then so be it. These feelings should’ve been dead long ago when he gave up his identity.
He saw his tie on the pillow and picked it up, not giving a second thought on what it was doing there. Thinking about it would just make him not want to leave. Spy was about to walk out when he remembered one final thing...
+++
It didn’t take much looking to quickly realize that all of Spy’s possessions where gone. The sun had passed down the horizon line and the room was relatively dark save for the translucent red-orange glow, spreading its light across the land and into his small van of a home. Spy had left and Sniper was pretty sure he was finally able to return to his own room.
So he’s not staying here anymore... it’s not a big deal...
But it was. Spy didn’t even bother to let him know or give him a simple ‘good-bye’. He just left the instant he got the chance. Sniper’s expression showed no emotion yet he still could feel that slump of pain roll down his throat going down to his chest. He felt so played with. Maybe he was? Maybe that was Spy’s sick game all along. Mess with his thoughts and feelings till he could get away, laughing at him from the shadows. Well it certainly worked. What a fool he was to let himself feel something for the man. And here he was, going to come out and confess his goddamn love to him. Love? Yeah, right. What a joke that was now.
A slight shine on the bench caught his eye. He walked closer, noting how it glistened and shone as he moved. He lifted up his hand to shield his eyes from a sudden glare of the object. Lowering his hand, he found it to be a fully completed ship in a bottle. Under it laid a note. His heart leapt a little and a glimmer of hope that appeared. Was this going to explain everything? His hands shook slightly as he slowly clutched the paper and read it. There, in elegant handwriting with a flourish of a signature, was only one sentence.
”It wasn’t that hard to finish.”
And that was it. Sniper bit his tongue until it threatened to bleed. He refused to cry.

Is there really no more to the story? It seems so... inconclusive. Spy and Sniper are most likely going to be stuck together in the same team until the war ends or they retire, and that could easily take twenty years. Hard to believe that they could keep repressing their feelings for so long while in close proximity with each other.


Anyway, I'm looking for a fanfiction. I'm sure it was still available in the Chan until just one week ago, but now when I click on the link I get a 404.

It was a Soldier/Spy short fic. After the events of Meet The Spy, BLU Soldier feels bad for murdering an innocent teammate, especially because BLU Spy doesn't seem to resent him at all. So Soldier gives Spy an "apology blowjob."

It was short, but hot and IC, so I'd love to read it again. I hope somebody saved it.

Anyone know what became of the story where everyone had superpowers?