This place looks sad and empty. Here's some old porn to hold the fort. Contents: I. Once you Get To Know Him (Tentaspy/Sniper/Scout) II. Keep Your Comrade Warm (Heavy/Everybody) III. Go Avay (Scout/Medic) Once You Get To Know Him "I saw a frickin' monster." "Uh-huh," said Engie, not bothering to look up from whatever weird shit he was working on. "Sure ya did." "I'm serious! There's something down there." "Mm-hm," Medic said, flicking the tip of a needle. "Remember vhat I told you, not to be drinking ze vater at ze hydro plant." "I saw it when I was runnin' for the intel. This big ol' shadow lurking around the tunnels." "Then go get!" Heavy laughed. "Kill monster and bring back head." "It's friggin' huge, with tentacles or some shit!" "Mrff mrm." "Man, I don't know why I bother talkin' to you." **** Scout didn't stay given up for long. The next day, after ceasefire, he was right back to hunting down somebody who would give a damn. Okay, not right after. That was dinner, and a man needed to eat. Anyway, there was a monster or something in their base, and he was <i>not</i> dealing with that thing alone. He needed some backup here. So, after dinner, he went looking for the one guy who knew something about weird-ass animals. They had monsters in Australia, right? Sniper listened to him, too. When Scout told him about a sweet perch he'd stumbled on exploring - <i>exploring</i>, not <i>lost</i>, dumbass - Sniper used it. Even said, "Thanks, mate." The thing was, he disappeared a lot, and if he didn't want you finding him you weren't gonna. So Scout kept an eye on him and slipped out behind him after dinner to try to talk somewhere no faggy Frenchie was gonna overhear and say "Aren't you a little old to believe in monstairz?" Sniper wasn't as quick on his feet as Scout, but he didn't waste time and had a way of slipping around things. Scout kept almost losing him around corners. It was almost like he didn't want anybody to know where he was going. Wait a minute...hadn't he been quiet tonight? Acting a little funny? Listening a little too closely? Shit, if the other guys were sending in spies after ceasefire, that was fucked up! Scout could catch him red-handed! Blue-handed. Whatever. And there he went, down into the waterways under the base. Scout looked around the corner and darted in after him before he had the chance to think about it. The place was even creepier at night. He didn't know where light was coming from, but he could see decent, once his eyes adjusted. The air smelled wet, and there wasn't any sound but Sniper's steps and water lapping at concrete. Scout followed into the tunnels, trying to keep quiet. He didn't have much practice at that, so it took a lot of concentration. He almost went around a corner and smacked into Sniper. He jumped back and flattened against the wall. He have to have spotted him. Shit. And he was getting so <i>good</i> at keeping knives out of his back. When Scout got up the nerve to peek around, he was just standing there. Hands in his pockets, looking around casually. Scout tried to keep his breathing quiet. He stayed there for a long time, until the damp from the walls was soaking through Scout's thin shirt and he was beginning to feel kinda like a moron. This was probably just Sniper's way of getting some privacy. He looked like he was waiting for something, but hell, this was the guy who could sit and wait for six hours for somebody to poke their head out of a door. He probably always looked like that. Scout was starting to think he might as well come out and just say that he was, uh, exploring or something, hey what a coincidence, anyway while you're here- Did the water just get louder? There was more than just the little wave noises. There was something moving. Something close. Scout's body decided that being real flat and real quiet was a good idea, though he kept staring at Sniper. Whatever the hell the thing was, they could double-team it and maybe get away just losing a couple limbs they wouldn't miss that much. Something was coming out of the water. Right in front of Sniper. What, did staring at things ten miles away all the time make you blind or something? He didn't even take off his goddamn sunglasses! Whatever it was, it was human-shaped. It looked like a man coming out of the channel, water running off of it, except moving way too straight up and smooth for somebody who'd been swimming. It was more like...rising. It had a weird dark head with no hair- No. A mask. And it kept coming. Where legs should have been there was a dark, tangled mass, just like the silhouette of something huge Scout had seen before, except a lot closer and a lot, lot worse. It was a Spy with a fucking giant octopus for a body, heaving shiny thick tentacles out of the water and headed straight for Sniper. He looked straight at it like it was something he'd seen a million times, and didn't even flinch. Scout was never, <i>ever</i> going to Australia. ******** "Back so soon, mon cher?" With the pointy teeth it was hard to tell it was a friendly smile, if you weren't used to it. "If I did not know better, I would think you 'ad begun to miss me." "'s not easy to get down 'ere, mate." Sniper tipped his hat back apologetically. "That's wot I come to talk to you about." His friend brought some of its tentacles up onto the walkway and leaned forward, for all the world like a guy leaning on his arms on a desk. "The kid's catching on," Sniper said. He tapped the fella on the forehead with his finger. The wet mask squished. "You gotta be more careful 'bout lettin' yourself get seen." "Ze boy 'oo is always shouting? 'Oo would believe him?" "It only takes Pyro gettin' bored one day and doin' a thorough sweep through here." Sniper tilted his glasses down to give him a stern look. "So keep your head down if you don't wanna end up calimari." "Perhaps you are right." The end of a tentacle wound companionably around Sniper's shoulders. "It is only zat I get so lonely, down here in ze dark and ze cold." "I know, I know," Sniper said, patting a tentacle. "There's only so often I can sneak off without somebody gettin' suspicious." He'd first found the fella when he was wandering through the tunnels months ago, looking for ways to travel to good positions without being spotted by the enemy. He'd heard somebody following him and figured he wasn't the only one with that idea. He'd hunted the culprit down, ready to wake up in the respawn room any minute, since the close quarters put him at a disadvantage. Once he'd coaxed the interloper out of the shadows at gunpoint, Sniper'd nearly had to laugh. Just an octopusman. Since then, he'd come by whenever he could, and they'd become chums. Sure, he had claws and tentacles and teeth like a bear trap. Sniper'd known plenty of one hundred percent bona fide humans who were less civilised, and who was he to judge? "'Ere, this'll cheer you up. Brought somethin' for ya." Sniper unbuttoned his vest pocket and pulled out two boxes, one the size of his palm and the other a good deal smaller, and put them into the gloved hands. They looked just like a human's except for the little sharp points at the fingertips. "Cigarettes?" His friend's face lit up. "Ah, you are truly a bon ami." "The matches are covered in wax. Waterproof." "You zink of all ze details." He took the prize and tucked it inside his jacket. Sniper didn't know where he'd gotten the top half of a blue pinstripe suit, but he wasn't the type to pry into other people's business. "How can I show my appreciation?" "No worries. It's nothing much- oy!" Sniper yelped as tentacles caught him from four directions at once and pulled him up. Tentaspy glided fully out of the water and twisted around to put his back to the wall and perch Sniper on his lap. Sniper laughed dizzily and turned in his arms. Tentacles. All that. "If you wanted a kiss, mate, you shoulda just said so." His lips were cold at first. They warmed up fast. Sniper ran his tongue along the serrated ridge of his teeth. His mouth was as hot and wet as anybody's, and Sniper appreciated the way he had of taking his time. Sniper felt his hat and glasses lift off, as a tentacle pushed his vest off his shoulders and another slipped under his shirt. He helped shimmy out of it and tossed it, aiming for somewhere dry. He really should be getting back, but hell, a little while couldn't hurt. He smiled at a tentacle tip tracing his spine. "Useful things, all those arms o' yours," Sniper said, running his hand down the thick trunk of one near where it attached to the Tentaspy's body, making him sigh in pleasure. "I don't know 'ow you ozers get by. If I had only zee two, I could not do zis..." A pair of tentacles tugged down his pants while the two humanlike hands ran down Sniper's chest, teasing with the edge of gloved claws. Sniper let out a little bit of an "ooh." One tentacle curled securely around his waist, like getting a hug from an affectionate python. His pants fell down around his ankles and were caught on his boots, to his amusement. The one thing those tentacles couldn't manage was shoelaces, though they'd once spent an entertaining day trying. What they could do was touch everywhere at once, cool and slick, warming up where they slid across Sniper's heating skin, brushes of the slick tops alternating with caresses of the undersides with their suckers that kissed and pulled in a way that was as strange as it was addictive. It'd started out innocent. Tentaspy was a tactile sort; being born and raised down here, his senses of touch and smell were keener than his sight. After they'd come to an agreement about him not biting any of Sniper's limbs off and Sniper not shooting him, naturally he was curious, so Sniper held real still and let him poke around. Legs were a fascination. What was between them, too. All Sniper said at first was "Careful wi' that." Tentaspy could read body language, and the look he gave him said he could feel Sniper's muscles tensing up. He'd asked, "Does it 'urt?" Sniper'd caught his breath and said, "Nah, mate. Nah." One thing about the fella: he was a right quick learner. Now he knew how to get sounds out of him Sniper hadn't known he was capable of. He tried to keep himself quiet as a gloved hand cupped the curve of his cheek and a tentacle ran down his chest, while another fondled his arse through his boxers. Any noise down here echoed to the rafters. His breathing was getting loud and rough, and when a pair of tentacles hooked into the waistband he wriggled around and made a little half-swallowed wanting noise, and about then he noticed that his wasn't the only breath getting frantic. Sniper's eyes opened. There was a figure standing a few meters away along the walkway, mouth hanging open and eyes wide as marbles. He pointed at the two of them and stammered, "Aa- ah- ah-" Sniper tried to sit up fast, a hard thing to do when you were in a nest of startled tentacles. "Now listen mate," he said quickly, "this isn't what it looks like." Scout got a full lungful of air and shrieked. "AUSSIE SQUIDFUCKER!" Sniper got the feeling things were about to get complicated. ******************* Scout's brain had stalled when the monster came out of the water and shut down completely when instead of splattering its brains out like a goddamn normal person Sniper started letting it feel him up. Now his mouth was running all on its own. "OCTOFAG PERVERT TRAITOR!" "Will you shut the bloody 'ell up!" Sniper hissed, waving his hands around and wincing like SCOUT was the one doing something wrong. It didn't help that he was practically naked except for boxers - seriously, Sniper, little red hearts? - and they were kind of wet from being groped by a SEA MONSTER FUCKING HELL. It wasn't like Sniper was kind of good-looking when you hadn't seen a woman in months, or that the look of bliss on his normally controlled face made Scout not sure who to be jealous of, or that what freaked him out most of all was that he was kind of turned on. It was that Scout'd thought he was a decent guy, and all along he was selling them out to seafood. "THERE'S A MONSTER AND IT'S GONNA KILL US ALL AND YOU'RE MAKING IT OUT WITH IT!" "Nobody's gettin' killed," Sniper said, untangling himself and stepping toward Scout still trying to shush him. "Just calm down and I'll explain-" "DON'T EVEN THINK I'M NOT TELLING EVERYBODY ABOUT THIS, YOU PSYCHO KANGAROO AQUARIUMFAG! I'M GONNA mmf!" Oh fuck. He'd forgotten Rule No. 1- Always keep your eye on the squidmonster. The thing moved so fast and smooth he could barely see it, and suddenly it was behind him and he was lifted in midair with tentacles wrapping up his arms and legs, cold and slimy and like fucking tree trunks, and another slapped across his mouth. He felt his headset lifted off and heard it clatter on the ground. "Such an excitable boy," the monster said in his ear, with a voice that sounded like Spy down to the accent. He smelled like deep water and French cologne. Scout tried to bite a chunk out of the tentacle, but the surface was too round and smooth to get purchase. He thrashed as hard as he could. Or tried to. The tentacles didn't move an inch. About then, it occurred to him to get scared. He stared at Sniper, who was rubbing a hand through his hair and shaking his head. Scout tried to silently say Come on, man, I'm your teammate, I'm sorry I gave you crap about going out and living with the koalas oh god please please don't feed me to your pet monster. Sniper came closer. "It's all roight, mate," he said gently, like he was talking to a scared wallaby or whatever the fuck he usually talked to. "'e's not a bad sort." "I am not going to 'urt you," the monster said. "I will let you go, if you can be'ave yourself." It didn't sound like something somebody who planned to rip you up and eat your kidneys would say. Very, very carefully, Scout nodded. The grip around him loosened a little, and he felt his feet set back on the ground. The tentacle covering his mouth let go slowly and stayed near. Scout took a deep breath, keeping his eyes locked on Sniper. As calmly as he could, he said, "Could you pretty please tell me what the fuck is going on here?" He added, "And get this thing off me?" He added again, "And put on some clothes?" Scout was a tough guy. He could deal with either squidmonsters or hairy-chested Australians, but both at once was asking a little much. "'e's not a thing, or a monstah," Sniper said, completely missing the point. For some reason, not having his hat and glasses on made him look more naked than not wearing pants. "What the hell do you call a fuckin' octopus man?" Scout demanded, his voice just a little bit high and shrill. Sniper slapped the monster on the shoulder, coming way too close to do it. "I call 'im Tentaspy." "Tentaspy," Scout echoed weakly. "A pleazure to meet you," the squidthing said. "'e's a friend," said Sniper, touching the thing on a tentacle voluntarily. "I found him down 'ere a while back, an' 'e's been keepin' an eye out for us ever since. Ever wonder why the BLUs haven't been gettin' through here much lately?" Actually, Scout had thought it was because he was just that badass. Sniper was leaning on the damn thing's massive body, though it wasn't quite so big when it was out of the water and you could see where it stopped. For some reason, having Sniper up in his face and looking straight and steadily at him almost made Scout more nervous than anything. It must've been because of all the times when holding still and being in a Sniper's sights meant bad news. "'e's a person, same as anybody. 'e just has different legs is all. 'ell," and Sniper kind of smiled, "'e's less of a prick than the Spy upstairs." It didn't help that he was practically naked. He was in pretty good shape for an old guy, though. "Yeah, real nice," Scout said, trying to wiggle out of the monster's grip. "Now will you let me go? Hey!" That was for the tentacle that poked him in the middle of the forehead. "Only if we can trust you not to run off and tell ze ozers." "Okay, okay! Just getcher slimy legs off me!" All right, so they weren't exactly slimy, but cold, wet, and slick was close enough. Whatever you called them, they felt really, really weird, and Scout wanted them off before he had to think about it anymore. Okay, maybe not so cold, either, after the shock wore off. They must have picked up some warmth from Sniper's skin oh fuck don't think about that! To Scout's surprise, the monster actually let him go and backed off. Before he could sprint the hell out of there, Sniper grabbed his arm. "Listen," he said, "we've gotta keep this between you and me, mate, else it's torches and pitchforks time. I don't think 'e'll respawn loik the rest of us." Scout looked warily between Sniper's beseeching expression and the Frenchie squidthing's masked face. He got a suspicion it was trying to look harmless. "You don't kill and eat people, do ya?" he said. "Never," the monster said, looking surprised, like he didn't know that creepy monsters living under stuff always kill and eat people. "You're not an alien invader?" "Not at all." "You don't have some kind of sinister plan? Like, you're biding your time and lurking around down here, and observing us, and stealing our DNA, and laying a whole bunch of eggs, and one day we wake up and the one place is crawlin' with little TentacleUs's?" "Mais non," said the Tentaspy, having the balls to give him a weird look. "You gotta stop watchin' movies what are on at two in the mornin', kid," said Sniper. Scout ignored him. He was thinking hard. "We-e-e-ll," he said slowly, "I guess if it isn't hurting nobody..." "You bewdy." Sniper broke out into a smile and patted him on the shoulder. "She'll be roight. Just trust me. I wouldn't let any baddies crawl about under our base, yeah?" "Yeah," Scout admitted. Sniper was one of the more reliable and less crazy of everybody on the team. He must have known something about whether things were dangerous or not, or else he'd have gotten a hand bitten off while he was in the outback throwing boomerangs at dingoes. "Go on then," Sniper said brightly, giving him a push towards the squidmonster. "Say 'ello." Scout took a couple steps closer, because he wasn't a pussy. The top Spy-like part was watching him and staying still, while the tentacles were moving back and forth, coiling around and making shf shf sounds on the damp stone floor. Scout reached out his hand, then paused. "Go a'ead," the squidthing said. "I won't bite." "I wasn't thinking about that until you said it, dumbass," said Scout. He reached out and put his hand on the base of one of the tentacles. It wasn't so bad. Smooth, and kind of soft, like touching the manta rays in the tank when he'd gone on a field trip to the aquarium as a kid, when he wasn't busy grabbing the sea slugs and waving them in the girls' faces. The monster must not have minded, since it didn't rip his head off, so he got a little bolder and stroked down the length. He had to step practically in among all the tentacles trailing on the ground to get close enough. They swished lazily around, like a cat's tail when it was getting pet. "Dude, you feel freakin' weird," Scout said, fascinated despite himself. "So I 'ave been told," the monster chuckled. It wasn't so bad, really. Sort of like something out of Doom Patrol. The monster in horror movies was never that scary once you got a good look at it. Just think of it like a guy in a rubber suit with no zipper. Soon Scout was running both hands along the tentacles and feeling the undersides. When he pressed his palms against the suckers they held on for a second, like a kind of handshake. He tensed up a little when the Tentaspy started touching back, coiling a couple tentacles around his arms, but Scout figured it was just give and take. "See?" said Sniper. "'e's a sweet'eart." Scout looked at Sniper, who was right there next to him, and didn't even seem to notice the tentacle looping around his bare calf. Then looked again. "Jeez, man," he groaned. "don't tell me you've had a freakin' hard-on this whole time!" Sniper had the decency to look embarrassed. "You were kinda interrupting somethin', mate." Aw, Christ. And Scout was doing so good at blocking that part of his brain forever. "Okay, talkin' to him, not killin' him, that I can follow. But what the hell were you lettin' it feel you up for?" Sniper's eyes went up to the ceiling for a minute. "Feels nice," he concluded. It was more than Scout could take. "Screwin' octopus monsters does not feel nice, you kangaroo fruit!" "'ow do ya know?" said Sniper. "Ya tried it?" Scout wasn't sure if he was stuck stammering at that because it was so stupid or because he had a point. "I zink we 'ave reached ze limits of what you can tell," the Tentaspy said. "Now I must show." "Whoa-oh, Squidfag," Scout said. "I am not gettin' to second base with anything with gills." Turned out he didn't have to worry. It wasn't him he was talking about. The Tentaspy wrapped four of its tentacles around Sniper's body and picked him up like a ragdoll. Sniper, a guy who jumped when people tapped him on the shoulder, just fucking laughed. The tentacles were touching him all over, which wasn't nearly as freaky as how he was liking it. A tentacle was wrapped around his waist to hold him up and was playing with his nipple with the tip. Another was massaging his shoulders, and the other two were wound around his legs. There was that look on his face, the same one that'd made Scout jump out of hiding and holler, but now it was closer, and it was for him. The way Sniper's eyes were closed like he was concentrating and his mouth was open just a little, and how his breath was speeding up, all mashed together and activated something that Scout hadn't known existed. It rose up in his guts, strange and powerful, and what scared him worse than anything was that he wanted more. The better a look you got at the monster, the less scary it was, right? The muscles in the tentacle under his hand shifted. Scout realized he was gripping it very hard. "Beautiful, isn't 'e," the Tentaspy said softly, looking right at Scout. Scout swallowed. "Keep doin' that," he said, throat dry. "Touch him more." "Ah, but my limbs, they are so busy," the Tentaspy said. "Perhaps you could 'elp me undress him?" Scout could have pointed out that he still had two hands and four tentacles, but, somehow, he didn't feel like it. He took a couple steps forward. Sniper was hanging about a foot off the ground, putting Scout's eyes level with his chest. Seriously. Good shape for an old guy. Sniper opened his eyes and gave Scout an encouraging nod. His voice came out low and throaty. "G'wan." Shit. It wasn't like they were covering much anyway. Scout grabbed them and yanked them off. Some tentacles helped. They were tossed aside before Scout had a chance to think too much about- Yep. That was another man's dick, all right. Then there was the tip of a tentacle running underneath it, and fuck if Sniper didn't make some interesting noises. They said don't knock it til you've tried it, right? So if you only did it once, to try, that didn't count. And the more weird and scary it was, the more Scout kind of wanted to try it, just to see if it was worth being scared of. Only pussies didn't do something just because it was scary. and maybe if he didn't, he'd always kinda wonder. "Uh, hey. Tentaspy. Squidfag. Thing." Scout poked him where his stomach should be, and whaddya know, felt human enough. "You can, uh, kinda touch me a little. If you want." He didn't have to look over to know that Sniper was watching. The Tentaspy smiled. "Like zis, mon petit?" he said, reaching down to trace his fingertip down Scout's cheek. It felt like there was something sharp under the glove. "Or like zis?" "Hoshit-!" All of the tentacles that weren't busy with Sniper were suddenly on Scout, all over his body, delving up his shirt and winding around his legs, lifting him up into the air like he was nothing. On sheer instinct he grabbed Sniper around the shoulders, and that was a mistake, because he was real warm and firm, especially compared to the cool tentacles, and his hair was all messed up and he still had that weird, fascinated look on his face, and... "Aw," Scout breathed. "What the fuck." He used one hand to grab Sniper's messy hair, leaned, in and kissed him hard. He didn't really know anything about kissing guys. He kissed his share of girls, yeah, they were lined up around the block back in Jersey, but never anybody like Sniper. Lips were lips. It wasn't that different, except for the loop of tentacle Scout's chest was pressing against, and the stubble around Sniper's mouth, and the low noise he made in his throat. Scout wasn't in the habit of half-assing anything he did, so he plunged his tongue in like he meant it. Sniper's mouth didn't really taste like anything, except, you know, guy. Then Sniper started kissing back for keeps, and it got hard to think about much of anything. Sniper gave him this loopy grin, and said, "I wasn't expectin' that." "Too fuckin' bad, koalafag." Scout messed his hair up some more because it was funny. Then he grabbed on to his shoulders, because the tentacles were feeling him up all over and it was suddenly hard to tell up from down. He tossed his hat over by the wall so it wouldn't fall into the water and get lost. It was a fucking great hat. Then he might as well do the same with his shirt. He had to peel it off, since it was already pretty damp. He hadn't noticed. It was like jumping into a swimming pool that was freezing at first, but felt fine once you got used to it. His shirt made a wet smack against the wall. It was dumb to keep his pants on if his shirt was off, so he wiggled out of those, which he'd never done in midair before, so it took some focus, so it took a minute to sink in that he was getting groped by a squidSpything while clinging to Sniper and wearing nothing but Red Sox underpants. The Tentaspy's eyes were lidded. It was incredibly weird to see somebody with their hands free be so obviously into touching someone. Him and Sniper, they were both giving Scout this look like he was something amazing they'd never seen him before. Yeah, he was pretty amazing, but Scout was used to having to shout that himself to keep people from pushing him aside and treating him like a kid, not getting this full attention. "You are lovely to ze touch, mon petit," he purred. "Uh, thanks?" said Scout, then noticed a pair of tentacles slipping under his underwear. "Hey, how bout you-" One hugged his ass. The other curled delicately around his cock. "Oh shit," Scout gasped. "Oh fucking hell." It was like nothing he'd ever felt before. It felt weird, really weird, but god he hadn't even realized how tired he was of his own hand and he did not know anything could feel like that. He clung to Sniper's shoulders just for something to hang onto, because he was human and he must have been getting the same thing, because he was making these strange little noises right into Scout's ear. "Would you like me to stop?" said the Tentaspy, in the exact fucking same tone as Spy used when he was teasing him. "Don't you fuckin' dare." Scout wriggled around to get out of his underwear, which was just getting in the way now. A tentacle stroked his back and gave him goosebumps, while the one around his dick undulated and squeezed, and without thinking Scout bit down on Sniper's shoulder to keep from making any embarrassing noises. Sniper's skin was warm and salty. Sniper was panting in his ear and kissing sloppily across the side of his face. Scout was proud of himself for getting to him that much with just some teeth. He must be good at this. Or maybe it was that the end of a tentacle was sinking into Sniper's ass. "Holy shit," Scout said, craning his head, cause damn, you don't see that every day. "Doesn't that hurt?" "Nah, mate" Sniper said, almost whispering. His head was tilted back and his eyes were half closed. Every breath made the tentacle caught between them press against Scout's chest. Sweat stuck his hair to his forehead. "Strewth. That's good, luv." He grabbed onto some tentacles for leverage and was moving himself back and forth. Watching the tentacle going into him was disturbing, so Scout watched his face instead. The tentacle on Scout's cock was moving in a steady, hypnotizing rhythm. Sniper was making these gasping noises, louder and louder. "Thought you said we were sposed to- stay quiet," Scout said. His voice sounded strange to himself, low and half panting. "Tryin'," Sniper managed. Tentacles caressed his arms, and the tip of one traced over his throat, where the adam's apple was bobbing wildly. It was crazy. He was always so quiet you forgot he was there. Scout had a sudden vision of pinning Sniper down somewhere in the base and seeing if he could make him break his silence. "You make such magnificent noises, mon cher," the Tentaspy said. "'ow can you blame me for wanting more?" Suddenly Sniper twisted and made a sharp, panting cry that echoed off the stone walls. Scout clapped his hand over his teammate's mouth. The last thing he needed was somebody hearing and coming down here to see...Jesus, it was hard to keep a train of thought when Sniper was making that face and goddamn moaning into his hand. What could feel that good? Fucking curiosity. If it wasn't a dick, it didn't count as queer. "Hey," Scout said, before he could lose his nerve. He glanced at the squid out of the corner of his eye. "Legs. Don't leave me high and dry here." The Tentaspy smiled slowly. With pointy teeth. It looked like Sniper was getting some control of himself, or at least managing to muffle his moans himself. Scout let go, and immediately felt the tentacles coil around him with a will, including one traveling down the cleft of his ass. "Ah, your 'eart is beating so fast, mon petit," the Tentaspy murmured. Scout's fingers dug into Sniper's shoulder. "Just relax, mate," Sniper panted, in between kissing him all over the neck. "Trust me." And, for some reason he didn't quite know how to think about, Scout did. "Ffffuck!" he gasped. "Jesus faglicking christ, that feels fucking weird." It didn't hurt, though. It just felt cool, and slick, and really fucking strange. He hung onto Sniper and tried to adjust to the sensation. "'old on, mate," Sniper said, in a low, coaxing voice, and there were warm, callused human hands on Scout's waist. "You're doin' real good." "I'm not a fuckin' wallaby you're tryin' to feed-" Scout said, wiggling his hips around to try to get a more comfortable angle. Was something supposed to be happening now? He could see in Sniper's face it was working fine for him. Maybe Scout was doing something wrong- "Oh god!" he yelped as something went off and made his back arch into the clasping tentacles, and even his impressive vocabulary went blank. "Oh god. Ohhh god." He could see the tentacle working hard in and out of Sniper, and feel the one in him, and the Tentaspy was wrapping its out tentacles all around them both, like he couldn't get enough, with this fascinated look on his face making the mask arch up high above his eyes, and Sniper's breath was coming hot and harsh on his neck, and every time the thing worked in and out something in Scout's body screamed yes. He wanted, he wanted, he didn't fucking know what he wanted, except more. He pushed his body up against Sniper, and the tentacles let go of their cocks, so he thought who the fuck gives a shit anyhow and ground his hips against Sniper's, which made him let out this strangled sound that was pure fucking amazing. Then a tentacle wrapped around both their cocks and pumped them together, and Sniper made this shiver and moan and came all over all of them. He sagged into a bunch of tentacles that caught him and held him upright, and now the tentacle working over Scout's cock was slick and hot, while the one in his ass was making him see stars. Sniper wasn't out of the game yet, he got the Tentaspy to lower him down and was kissing Scout's stomach, sending little shocks of heat through his body every time his stubble scraped against his skin. He could hear these panting whimpers and if he felt one bit less good he might've worried they were coming from him. Right now he didn't care about anything but the muscular limbs all over him, running up his legs, coiling around his arms, brushing by his lips. He took that one in his mouth and sucked hard on the tip. It curled against his tongue and he was rewarded with an intake of air from the Tentaspy and a rush of giddy satisfaction that he could give even a crazy sea monster a few surprises. Then Sniper laid a bite right under Scout's rib cage, and the Tentaspy thrust deep, and the tentacle twisted on his cock, and Scout could feel a scream clambering for his throat, so he did the only thing he could think of. He grabbed the Tentaspy by the neck and jammed his lips over his as his climax crashed over him. When Scout could see again, and think a little as long as it was in simple sentences, he was being set down on the walkway by the wall. Sniper was next to him. Scout let his head loll onto the older man's shoulder. For a few minutes, they listened to the lapping of the water. Finally, Scout said with sated awe, "Motherfucker." "Yeah," said Sniper. The pieces of Scout's brain were congealing together again. He didn't feel like rushing it. "Guess we'd better get dressed, huh." "Gotta be gettin' back," said Sniper, not moving. He was slumped against the wall like a sack of rangy Aussie dirty laundry. His hair was forging in all sorts of new and interesting directions. Scout sat back and laughed. "You look ridiculous, man." "Like you're any better," Sniper said lazily. "You look like somethin' the cat coughed up." "Eat a dick, koalahumper." Scout got to his feet with the wall's help. Okay, that was not a place he'd ever been sore before, but he was a badass. He could deal with it. "Hey, Squidfag, where'd you throw our stuff?" "Right 'ere." The tentacles were moving here and there, picking things up. Tentaspy presented each of them with a little pile. "There you are." "Thanks man." Scout took his stuff, then bit back a giggle. "Dude. He folded my shirt." "Good on 'im. Maybe he can teach ya." Scout pulled on his pants. "Hurry up. If you get a cold you're gonna have to explain to Medic why you have sucker marks on your dick." "I'll tell 'im I caught it from you." Sniper cracked his back and stood up. "I'm comin', I'm comin'." The Tentaspy was watching them quietly. He'd probably never had much chance to see two people just talking before. "Nice to meetcha, Squidface," Scout said. He probably looked like a loon, giving a goofy smile to the monster he'd been scared shitless of less than an hour ago. "Really nice. Like, crazy fuckin' nice." "My pleazure," the Tentaspy said. He flowed forward and took one of their hand in each of his human ones. His kissed them, first Sniper's, then Scout's. "Au revoir, mes amis." He looked at Scout with a glint in his eye. "Mon nouvel ami." He turned and sank soundlessly into the water. In a second, there was nothing but a ripple and, if you looked closely, just for an instant, a shadow under the shadows. "What a faggot," Scout said fondly. Sniper clapped him on the shoulder. He'd been friendly before, but never the real touchy sort. Scout wondered if that would change. He decided he wouldn't mind too much. "C'mon, kid. The others are gonna start wondrin' where we've gone off to." They started up the stairs. Right before the corner, where they could hear the faint voices of the rest of the team filtering down, Scout stopped. "Wot's the problem?" Sniper said quietly, reaching for a weapon that wasn't there. Scout was thinking. "You know," he said, "We're gonna have to come up with a lot of really good reasons to go down there."
Keep Your Comrade Warm The BLU team was fighting the cold and the cold was fighting back. At first they had done fairly well for themselves, with Pyro building snowmen to melt and Scout throwing snowballs at Soldier and somehow managing to keep all his limbs. Now the snow had started in earnest and they were cloistered inside around the furnace (Mann Co. LTD, kerosene, Guaranteed Explosion Resistant!(tm)), watching the drifts pile up against the window. "Fucking snow," Scout said succinctly, rubbing his hands together in the blue mittens his ma had sent him last Christmas. "Sleet, hailstones the size'a golf balls, that a man c'n take," said Demoman. "Not this muck what freezes yer jauries together." "Perhaps zey vish to kill us wiz hypothermia in order to renege on ze contract." Medic tapped a spoon on his coffee to break the rind of ice. "Mrff mrf mrrmrr mghrgh hrff?" said Pyro, who was curled into a shapeless pile on the corner of the couch. "Nah, settin' us on fire won't help much," said Sniper from an armchair. While his face was impassive, his knitting needles clacked together like chattering teeth. "'Preciate the sentiment, though." The door blew open with a blast of chill air to a collective cringe and outcry. Heavy tromped in and shook the snow from his overcoat. "How is team enjoying the north?" he bellowed cheerfully, as Spy cupped protective hands around his cigarette. Soldier's head popped up from behind the couch. "SHUT THAT DOOR, MAGGOT, UNLESS IT'S YOUR PLAN TO FREEZE US SOLID AND THAW US OUT WHEN THE APES AND COMMIES HAVE TAKEN OVER THE EARTH!" "What, this?" Heavy said, spreading his arms, though he did leisurely kick the door closed. Under his coat he wore nothing more than his usual uniform. "This is nazhing! Is springtime, for leetle birdies!" "We weren't all raised by freakin' polar bears, ya mutant," said Scout. "Is not so bad." Heavy's exuberant expression faded as he looked at the portraits of frozen misery arranged around the room. His brow furrowed. "Is it?" "'Ave you any suggestions to 'elp us, 'Eavy, I would be glad to hear zem," said Spy, as his cigarette slipped from numb fingers and landed on the floor. "If you burn down our base in the middle of a blizzard, that would be what they call cosmic irony." Engineer was visible as a hardhat and goggles above a blue blanket. Heavy watched Spy mutter and crush the cigarette with his boot, a thoughtful look on his face. He smiled broadly. "I have good idea. Come to back room, and we discuss." Spy was midway through the motion of taking out another cigarette. He tucked it back, closed the case, and slipped it into his pocket as he searched Heavy's expression. "Oui," he said, with perfect aplomb. "There are always...options." Scout wrapped his skinny arms around himself as Spy sauntered past. "If it works, you'd better fuckin' share." "I intend to," said Spy, closing the door behind them an instant before being pinned to the wall and discovering that Heavy's broad hands and mouth could seem to touch every inch of his chilled body at once. A while later Spy emerged, straightening his balaclava, smoothing his suit, and feeling much, much warmer. "Don't we look smug as the cat what ate the canary," Sniper said. Spy ignored his crabby tone and leaned over by him to say something very lowly, punctuated with glances toward the back room and intriguingly ambiguous gestures. Sniper said, "Really?" Spy nodded, with a significant look. Thus it happened that Sniper wandered off, and when he came back (tasting salt from biting down on Heavy's shoulder to keep from making a sound), mentioned that the snow wasn't so bad, really. "Kinda pretty," he said, leaning back comfortably next to Spy to watch the flakes fall. "Fuckin' weirdos," Scout said. Medic remembered that he had left something in the back room. Over the next few days, whenever someone was shivering alone, somehow Heavy would unobtrusively appear. While Engineer was trying to cobble together a more effective radiator from charcoal, tinfoil, and twine, he found Heavy's arm draped around his shoulders, and a little while later was smiling to himself and seemed to have misplaced his helmet. When Pyro knocked curiously on his bald head, he only laughed. If there was any doubt about what was going on, it evaporated when Demoman swaggered by the table and said, "'Ey, Doc. I jest got sucked off by yer wife." "Ja, ja, zat's nice," Medic said without looking up from his book. Scout glared from the corner of the couch, body knotted like a poked and unhappy sea anemone. "If you all are gonna be a bunch of fuckin' fags, at least shut up about it." "The term is sit-chew-ay-shunal homo-sexuality!" said Soldier, adjusting his helmet with a determined cast. "I am going to investigate!" By the time Heavy emerged with Pyro, who was stumbling around making happy mrffing sounds, Scout had had it. He jerked upright. "Hey, fatass!" Heavy was patting Pyro on the shoulder and saying something, and didn't turn around. "Lardo!" Scout jumped over the back of the couch and planted himself in front of Heavy. "Are you as deaf as y'are ugly? I'm talkin' to you!" Heavy released Pyro, who wandered off huddah'ing dizzily, and faced Scout. It looked like a boulder facing down a matchstick. The clack of Sniper's knitting needles went quiet. Medic watched with the quiet professional attention of the one who would have to paste the pieces back together. "Leetle man has problem?" said Heavy. "I got a big fuckin' problem." Scout scowled and looked around. "But I ain't talkin' about it in front of the chucklenut gallery." Everyone suddenly looked busy. "Come, then," Heavy said, face impassive. "I always have time for comrade." Once they were out of sight, Scout tried to pin Heavy against the wall, which didn't really work because of the masses involved, but he ignored that. "So what's Pyro?" he demanded. "A guy, or a chick, or what?" "Is comrade," said Heavy stoically. "Fuck, man," Scout hissed, turning away in disgust. "You don't fuckin' get it at all." "No one is making Scout participate. You see thing you don't like, you look somevhere else, da?" "Not da, you commie asshole," Scout said, whirling back around to grab Heavy's shirt and haul himself close to his face. "How long were you planning on leavin' me out in the cold?" Heavy's brow knit together. He had a look on his face that was slightly unnerving, the kind of look that was a sudden reminder that big did not always mean stupid. "Leetle man," he said slowly, "is jealous." "I'm not jealous, I'm pissed.," Scout growled, grabbing fistfuls of Heavy's shirt and nearly lifting himself off the ground to try to bring his face closer. "You got any idea how long I been wantin' you to finger-fuck me, fagweasel?" It took a few seconds for Heavy to parse through Scout's nonstandard English. Comprehension dawned slowly over his face. "I thought you would not want. Are always saying, have no interest in men. So I leave alone." "I'm not queeah, dumbass," Scout said, as something of the aggression faded from his posture, though he didn't make any move to let go of Heavy. "I'm cold. You're warming everybody else up. I ain't missin' my turn." Heavy's voice was a rumble Scout felt through his hands. "You can have turn whenever you like." The back room was colder than the main living area, being closed off from even the weak glow of the furnace. Scout's breath hung in the air in short-lived puffs. There was a fake plant in the corner, and cheap blinds that cut horizontal lines across the falling snow through the window. Through the door they could hear Soldier shouting about something, a background noise that was comforting in its normality, like some people had the sound of the ocean. "I'm not fuckin' around," said Scout, though it wasn't clear who he was trying to convince. The heat from Heavy's body was soaking through the air between them. Heavy put one hand on Scout's face, nearly covering half his head. "Brave leetle man," he said quietly. "Runs so fast, but always toward trouble." "I'm only little compared to you," Scout pointed out. "And then, so are, like, mooses and shit." "Maybe so," Heavy laughed, and shifted his hand into the fuzz of Scout's hair, and kissed him as if to test his resolve. Scout never let a challenge go by untaken, and he kissed back with all the subtlety and finesse of a bat to the head. Heavy sank down against the wall, and Scout followed to straddle his lap. It must have been some Russian trick. Scout was warming up already. Warm enough to get rid of his clothes, in fact. Who needed pants when you had a comrade? Heavy's eyes followed him intently, inscrutable. "Vhat vas it you said you vanted me to do?" Heavy said, in a way that suggested he remembered perfectly well. Scout ignored him and grabbed one of Heavy's hands. He stripped off the glove and dropped it to the side. Then he stuck Heavy's finger in his mouth and sucked on it with gusto. Heavy made a low grunting noise. "That translate, Rooskie?" Scout said, letting his finger out of his mouth with a wet pop. He ran his tongue all over Heavy's middle finger too, for good measure. "Da," Heavy rumbled, and proved he'd gotten the point. "Fffuck," Scout gasped. He grabbed Heavy by the back of his thick neck and held on for dear life. "Y-yeah. Like that." Heavy pumped his finger in and out, paying close attention to the symphony of noises Scout made, which were fascinating and obscene. He was a man who knew the beauty of the details, like every click of his gun. "Gimme some more," Scout panted. Heavy was good at obeying orders. Scout pressed his face into his neck as his hands dug into his shoulders. He smelled like leather and gunpowder. Scout noticed the bandolier jamming into his ribs without quite being able to care. Scout's hands scrabbled down Heavy's chest and yanked at his belt. "I wanna see if your dick's the same size as the rest of you." Heavy lent a hand, which was good, because the other was making it hard for Scout to concentrate. Working together, they got his pants down. Scout stopped and stared. "Da-amn," he said, with a touch of awe. "Is only natural," said Heavy modestly. "Ohh yeah." Scout leaned forward to hiss in Heavy's ear, as his fingers sank deeper into him. "You kept everybody else pretty quiet. Fuck that shit. I'm gonna scream." Heavy's free hand groped for something in the pocket of his half-down pants. Scout thought it would be better put to use groping him until he saw what Heavy was bringing out. "Doktor is good comrade also," Heavy said. "Has many useful things." "Somebody get him a medal," Scout breathed, watching Heavy slick up his cock. Heavy pulled his fingers out and settled his hands on Scout's hips. "Do you vant to lie back?" "Hell no, fatass," Scout said, grabbing Heavy's shoulder with one hand and reaching down for his cock with the other. "We're doin' this my way. You're my bitch." If Heavy was going to protest, he didn't get the chance. Scout thrust himself down onto his cock, with widening eyes and a gasp that turned into a keening cry. Heavy's lips parted as his head fell back, his fingers fluttering up Scout's sides. Scout didn't know if he'd gotten in over his head, and that spiked him with excitement. "Leetle man, you are..." said Heavy, and lost his train of thought. Scout was still, eyes closed, shivers running through his slim body. He had to wet his lips and swallow a few times before he could speak. "Pretty...unh...fuckin' great, huh?" Scout braced himself on Heavy's broad shoulders and tried to remember to breathe. He didn't have the patience to push himself down slowly. "Aww christ!" His voice rang in Heavy's ears. His breathing was fast and loud on Heavy's neck. "Harasho," Heavy murmured, stroking the soft bristles of hair at the nape of his neck. "Tui delaesh ochen harasho." "I have no idea what the fuck you just said but it's fucking hot." Scout was beginning to experimentally move himself up and down. Heavy's hand moved to his hip and held on tight. There were going to be imprints of a few huge fingers left there, Scout thought with satisfaction. "Go slow," said Heavy. "Fuck you," said Scout and slammed himself down. Scout's cry cut the chill air as he wrapped his arms around Heavy's neck and rode him with a will. Heavy took hold of his cock, and Scout would never call him stupid again after coming up with something that brilliant. Heavy was breathing a jumble of Russian, and Scout couldn't understand a word but he could feel them as he rubbed his face against Heavy's stubbled cheek. "Oh fuck. Ohfuckohfuckohfuck." He moved faster and faster, first to prove what he could take but then because he couldn't help it. Heavy's hips were coming up to meet him in time with his movements. Little moans and "ah"s were slipping past his lips and steadily getting louder until he got his legs hooked around Heavy's waist and found an angle that made him keep his promise about screaming. Heavy's hand enveloped his cock with heat and strength, and he came all over his own naked stomach. Heavy's head was lolling back, eyes hooded. He was using Scout's hip as a handle to keep him moving, weirdly gentle though Scout had a feeling that grip could crush him if he wanted to - god, why was that hot? Scout could feel him come through his entire body, the muscles underneath him tensing and releasing as Heavy breathed out a low sound, and Scout couldn't move his eyes from the look of bliss on his broad, expressive face. Scout draped himself, panting, over Heavy as the Russian stroked his back, watched the snow fall through the window over his shoulder, and realized he'd forgotten about the cold. ------------------------- In the common room, all was quiet. Pyro was laying on the floor watching the red glow through the bars of the furnace, mrffing at particularly interesting developments. Soldier was trying to fit CHINESE PLOT TO REPLACE OUR CANINES WITH AUTONOMOUS SPY ROBOTS into the available four blocks of a crossword puzzle. Sniper was finishing up a sleeve. The door to the back room opened. Scout swaggered out, wearing a grin and Heavy's ushanka. Heavy followed, looking a little more discreet, but not much. He sat on the couch next to Medic, who naturally shifted position to lean against him. Scout took up the other side. "Ze report on ze radio is zat ze snow vill hold for another two days," Medic remarked. "Terrible thing," said Heavy blandly. Scout shoved his arm around under he was nestled comfortably. "Sunshine is for pussies."
Go Avay "Hey Doc!" Medic's hand jarred and knocked over a rook. He righted it with extravagant care, the crenelations faint notches through his thick gloves. "Ja, Herr Scout?" he said with heroic patience. Scout slapped his hands onto the table and leaned over the chessboard. "Whatcha doin?" Medic grabbed the swinging dogtags in his fist before they could wreak havoc on the battlefield. "Vhat does it look like?" "Like fatass is staring at a plastic horsey." Heavy, brow furrowed in concentration, did not appear to hear the boy's voice. Medic envied him. "It is called thinking, Herr Scout. Perhaps you have heard ze term?" "Yeah, yeah." In a truly inspired act of finding ways to be irritating, Scout tugged his tags free and turned away only to begin opening the infirmary's metal cabinets. "Hey, do you need, like, help with anything?" "No," said Medic, as he studied the position where a delicate movement of Heavy's fingers left his queen. "Like, body parts to bag, needles to jab into things, experimental drugs to feed to guinea pigs, stuff cleaned, that kinda crap. I could do it." "Herr Scout." Medic pushed up his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes for a moment. Tennis shoes clomped about the small room. "Are you bleeding?" "Naw." Scout peered at a row of pill bottles, all labeled fastidiously in German with the proper dosage and effects of feeding them to unsuspecting teammates. "Are you sick?" The hinges of a cabinet squeaked. "Nope." Medic's bishop made a bold foray into enemy territory. "Are your intestines bursting through the abdominal wall, resulting in massive bleeding and catastrophic organ failure?" Scout's eyes widened. He checked beneath his shirt. "Naw." "Zen," said Medic, narrowing his eyes at the board, "go avay." Out of the corner of his eye, beyond the expanse of patterned squares, he saw Scout's face fall. "Fine," he muttered. "You don't gotta be a Nazi about it." The boy stuck his hands in his pockets and sulked out, leaving his disarray behind him. "Kinder," Medic said under his breath. For a few minutes there was only the precise clicks of the pieces. The chess set was in the center of a sturdy and serviceable table that bore several bloodstains. One near Medic's elbow was in the shape of a cat. Heavy loomed above like a contemplative mountain. "Leetle man has crush," he said as he moved a knight. "Vhat?" Medic's glasses fell onto the table. "On who?" "You, Doktor," said Heavy, his brows lifting with amusement. Medic retrieved his glasses and polished the lenses with the corner of his labcoat. The only effect was to give them reddish streaks, but in any case it was mostly for show. "I don't know vhat you are talking about." "Vhen not on battlefield, he pesters everyvun. Especially, follows you until you shout. Is lonely." Heavy's shrug involved a great migration of mass. "Is not hard to see." "Is-it is ridiculous." Medic replaced his glasses and took care to straighten them. "Ze boy hardly says a vord that is not an insult to us or a boast of his skills vith vimmen." "And people, they are alvays what they say." The black bishop was dwarfed by Heavy's fingertips. An afterthought: "Check." Ridiculous, Medic thought, even while a suspicion took root in his mind and slowly blossomed into an idea. Despite the distraction, he did well. He lasted nearly twenty minutes this time. ----- The next day after the usual battles, Scout needed to think, so he went out back to hit grenades with a bat and see how far they went before they exploded. It wasn't like the doc hated him or anything. You couldn't hate teammates. If they were weird and crazy, they were your weird crazies, and nobody better screw with them. Honestly, Scout didn't know what his own deal was. The doc and him were usually on other sides of the battlefield. Once early on they'd tried to work together. A while after Scout crossed home with the enemy intel in his hand, the doc had stumbled up to the door, covered in mud and dust and with a bunch of bullet holes through his coat, and panted out, "Ze qvick little bunny can heal himself." BAM! Right up in midair like the Fourth of July. So it wasn't like they knew each other that well. Scout just kinda liked the doc. he was smart and he kept his shit together when things were all going to hell. It took a special kind of balls to go out there with barely any weapons and put all you've got into covering everybody else's ass. He had patience, and that was fascinating to Scout, like weird foreign things were. KABLAM! Nice new crater. Scout was winding up the next pitch when he decided; screw it. Subtlety and thinking about things never got him anywhere. When in doubt, run through the middle and see what happens. Worst thing could happen was Medic got all huffy and, "Ach, leaff me alone, I must vork" and that happened practically anytime Scout talked to him already, though it didn't even make sense, cause how much vork could he have between battles, anyway? Scout laid the bat against his shoulder, tossed the ball in his free hand, and was about two steps toward the base when he remembered it wasn't a ball. BOOM. Whatever. Respawn was closer to the infirmary anyway. Scout jogged over and stuck his head in, but there was nobody there. He tried Medic's room next, and even knocked. See? Manners. Not like he waited for an answer before opening the door, Christ, he wasn't the pope. "Hey Doc!" Medic was sitting at the desk by the window, blinds closed, reading a what looked like a textbook by the light of a little green lamp. It was one of the first times Scout had ever seen him without his coat on, just in an old-fashioned dress shirt and black suspenders. The doc looked up like he'd been expecting him. "Ah, Scout," he said. "Come in. Und close ze door." The look of warm invitation Medic aimed over his glasses knocked Scout's brain out from under him. Before he could think about it he'd done as he said. The room looked a lot like Scout's, except without socks on the floor, and instead of girly pictures torn out of magazines tacked up on the wall there was that sketch of the naked guy in the circle with the four arms. "I, uh, got something I want to talk to you about," Scout said, because he'd figured he'd think of something clever to say when he got there and it wasn't happening. "Ja, I know," said Medic. "You do?" Scout perked up. This was gonna be easier than he thought. "Of course." Medic swiveled his chair around and leaned back. The knot of his blue tie was nestled at his throat. Scout wanted to reach his hand up and pull it loose. Just because he didn't understand why anybody would wear a tie if he didn't have to. "Do you zink I haven't noticed how you behave differently, lately? You are helpful. Comparatively courteous. Alvays over my shoulder." Scout rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Pretty obvious, huh." "Only to one who is paying special attention." Usually Scout got pissed off when he thought somebody was laughing at him, but something about the smile hovering around the doc's eyes was kind of nice, maybe just because he couldn't remember ever seeing the doc looking like that before. Relaxed, and like he was thinking of a good joke. "So, hey," Scout said, taking a few steps forward. This was going way better than he expected. "Long as you don't mind it, maybe we can, y'know, do something about it." "An excellent idea." Scout had never really noticed how Medic's glasses made his eyes big and expressive. "Vhy don't you come here, and ve can have a more intimate discussion..." Scout was there before the little glint behind Medic's smile sank through to his conscious mind. Scout always thought of everybody else on the team as slow. Maybe that wasn't right. It turned out Medic could move pretty damn fast over a short distance. Say, from reaching for something hidden under his desk to grabbing Scout and pressing the sharp and very, very pointy edge of a bonesaw to his throat. Behind his glasses Medic's eyes gleamed. "...about ze jars vhere I am going to place your organs, Spy." ------------------------------ "Woah woah woah! Not funny, doc!" Scout babbled while he tried to wriggle away from Medic's grip. "Not cool! I'm on your team! You got it all wrong!" No use. Scout was built around the idea of not getting caught in the first place and Medic was a whole lot stronger than he looked. The jagged teeth on the sawblade were covered with flecks of what looked like rust but what turned out in closeup - and Scout was really, really close up - wasn't. "Exactly vhat a Spy vould say," Medic hissed, his face the width of the saw away."Thought you vere clever, didn't you? Find ze damning black mark in my files, use ze handsome young to get past ze old qveen's guard." "Look, I don't know what you're talkin' about!" Scout tried to back away. Medic followed him step for step until he was pinned against the door. "I ain't a Spy!" Medic pushed the saw up harder. It didn't have far to go. Scout could feel the jagged edges against his throat with every throb of his pulse. "Vhere is ze boy? How long have you taken his place? Speak, or vhen I am done gutting you ve vill tear your base from its foundations!" Scout realized he'd never seen the doc really pissed before. He was really wishing he could've kept that streak going. "Doc, it's me!" Respawn or not, dying still wasn't exactly a whole lot of fun, especially when it was your own teammate and the worst response to a proposition in fag history. This never happened with girls. All they ever did was say they had to wash their hair. "C'mon, man!" That kinda frantic high-pitched note? Not something Scout was proud of. Medic's eyes glittered. "Vhere do ve keep ze spare key to ze veapons lockers?" "Under the potted plant in the hallway!" Medic's hand around his shirtfront yanked him closer. "Vhat is in the refrigerator at 2Fort?" "Some ham, a hollow grenade full of baked beans, an' carrot cake from Pyro's birthday," "Who plays left field for ze Red Sox?" "That doesn't prove anything, dumbass, everybody knows Carl Yastrzemski." Slowly, still eyeing him like he was gonna sprout a stupid accent and a backstabbing knife any second, Medic let go of Scout and lowered his weapon. "Scout. It is really you?" "Yeah." Scout rubbed his throat. "I know other stuff, too. Like how you let your coat get all messed up but you always polish the mud and gibs and stuff off your boots, or how you only call people 'Hair' when you're pissed off. I don't know what you're talking about with any files, though." Medic turned aside to put the saw down by his desk. He was quiet for a minute before he started talking the way newscasters do, like what they're saying is important but it's got nothing to do with them. "I vas careless, vunce. Vhen you are young, you think ze rules do not apply, zat you are invincible. I vas lucky. Zere vas no firm evidence, and I had money for ze bribes to make zem look ze other vay. However, our current employers are very...thorough. I doubt zey do not know." "What are you goin' on about?" "I mean to say zat I have certain inclination zat are verboten," Medic said, as he straightened his tie and didn't quite look at Scout. The lights in Scout's head took a minute to line up and blink in unison. "You mean you really are a queeah?" When Medic pushed up his glasses and glared, he looked like his old self again. "To put it vith your characteristic tact and delicacy, yes." "Oh." Scout shifted from foot to foot. He rolled his eyes up to the waterstained ceiling. Medic prickled. "Vhat do you mean, oh?" "I kinda figured, since you're all fussy about keeping clean and you're all buddy-buddy with the Rooski 'n all." "Heavy is a dear friend, and caring for vun's personal appearance does not mean vun is homosexual, it means vun is not you," Medic sighed as he turned to put his saw by the desk. "In any case, I apologize for ze trying to kill you." "Naw, man, that was pretty badass." Scout grinned. "I didn't know you had it in ya, Doc." Medic gave him a look with a touch of that scaryness in it. "Remember that, should you feel ze urge to tell anyvun vhat you have found out." "You kiddin? Hell no. You don't rat on teammates." Scout scratched the back of his head. "Sides, it's not like it's a big deal or nothin." "Not a big deal," Medic echoed flatly. "Maybe where you came from - hell, where I came from, you got any idea what guys do to fags? - but here, who gives a crap? It ain't the same. Out in the real world I'd get in trouble for splattin' people's brains out. Here, I get a bonus if I do it faster." Scout leaned against the wall. The end of his handwrap came loose and fluttered as he gestured. "Besides, if there aren't any girls around and it's in between fightin', it doesn't count as queeah." His brother in the Navy'd told him that, and Scout knew everything his brothers said was true, except for "Come back here, I just wanna talk!" "An...interesting viewpoint," Medic said, though he looked relieved. "Screw you, you know I'm right- Hey. Wait a minute." All of Scout's energy went to his body primarily. His head got by with the leftovers, on the principle that you didn't have to be good at thinking things through if you were good at hauling ass out of there. Things tended to work their way through his brain after waiting their turn. A grin was plastering itself over Scout's face. "You called me handsome." "Mere fact." The doc straightened his cuffs. His eyes kept hiding behind his glasses. "Obviously you are an attractive young man. Do not let it go to your head." Scout's expression had to be goofy as hell, but he didn't give a shit. "You think I'm hot." "I did not say zat-" "It's your lucky day, Doc. Most fags wish they could get this fine a piece of ass. So how bout it?" Medic was giving him a look like he was trying to measure something that kept moving. "You can't be serious." "I mean it, man. You know you want me." Scout leaned into a seductive pose that was only a little bit ruined by the wince when his elbow smacked into the wall. A question crept into his voice. "Don't you?" Now there was a funny thing. He'd never seen the doc look unsure before. "It is verboten, Scout. Ze risks-" "Fuck that!" Scout exploded. "You're always thinking of reasons not to do shit. 'That won't work.' 'You'll get hit with a rocket if you go that way.' 'Not right now Scout, you're on fire.' Even you've gotta get sick of always thinking about shit instead of just getting it done, and if it doesn't work, fuck, you don't lose nothin' and you've got a great story. What are you so fuckin' afraid of, man? Give me some friggin credit here. I like you, dumbass! Why don't you-" Medic's expression was slowly changing from annoyed to a funny sort of determined, and suddenly he grabbed Scout by the shirt and Scout just had time to think that now he was gonna get sawed in the throat and then Medic was kissing him. And, you know, he was a smart guy. That was pretty much the only way Scout was going to shut up. --------------------------------------- The boy learned quickly. Medic had thought to frighten him off, shock him into silence at the least. He could not think with the young fool babbling at him. Yet instead of running off Scout was pressing his lithe body toward him, his mouth open and eager, making small and no doubt unconscious noises, his hands grabbing fistfuls of Medic's shirt. Perhaps there was something to be said for not thinking. Scout pulled away and panted, though he did not go so far as to let go. "How's that, Doc?" "Sloppy," said Medic, licking his lips thoughtfully. "However, zat can be improved vith practice." "Sure, sure, we can do that." He tugged on the knot of Medic's tie and used it to pull him closer. He smelled of fresh sawdust and grass. "How does this whole queeah thing work, anyway?" "How it vorks is you do as I say." "So like everything else." Scout was grinning like a fool. At this range it was not unappealing. "But I'm thinkin you're wearing way too much clothes." Medic corrected him - he meant too many clothes, that being a peculiarity of English Medic had taken pains to master - as Scout undid the buttons down the front of his shirt. "Don't pull them off, dummkopf," he said, rendering assistance before the impatient boy ruined his second-best shirt. He swallowed the last syllable when Scout's hands took the liberty of slipping under the open fabric and stroking his stomach. It had been a long time since anyway had touched him. He did not normally allow it. "You get to see me naked, but I never get to see you," Scout said, pushing Medic's shirt off his shoulders and trying to tug the still-buttoned cuffs off his wrists until Medic shoved him off and did it himself. "Totally unfair." "To be naked in ze clinical context is an entirely different creature. I am a professional." "Yeah, yeah, you know you snuck a peek." Scout tossed his hat on the bed and peeled off his shirt, leaving his dog tags to jingle against his, yes, slender and well-defined chest. "Do I get to feel you up now?" "If you must," said Medic, unwilling to admit that he didn't know exactly what Scout meant. The hand down his pants made things clear. Medic attempted to hide his gasp by kissing him. If the boy knew he could make Medic's skin tingle with electricity and his heart pound, he would never hear the end of it. Scout's free hand tugged open his belt. The wraps became tangled, and Medic pulled Scout's hand free to unwind them. "Hold your hands up, bitte," he commanded his body complaining at the loss of contact. "Honestly, vhy in the vorld do you not simply vear gloves?" "Cause these look cooler," Scout said, as Medic unfastened his pants and set his teeth to the task of unwinding the white cloth. His eyes widened. "Holy christ, that's hot." "Efficiency," Medic said, allowing himself a sliver of pride as he dropped the wraps and pulled down his pants, then took a moment to divest himself of his boots. Scout was doing the same, undressing shamelessly until he stood in his bare skin. He tossed his underwear on the floor, Medic noted with irritation that lasted until the younger man pushed him down onto his bed. "Way too slow," he said, pulled off Medic's underwear and undershirt and tossing them aside."I ain't got all night." He paused to take a good look. While Medic was in excellent condition from carrying around the heavy Medigun and pack as he ran about trying to keep a herd of reckless fools alive, he was aware he was no longer as young as he used to be. Yet there no poetry could flatter like Scout's low whistle and murmur of, "Damn, Doc." "You are not so bad yourself," Medic said generously. Scout snorted. "I know that." He explored Medic's body with relentlessly eager hands, running down his shoulders and chest and across his stomach. Medic bit his lip, fighting the vulnerability of pleasure and knowing that a Scout aware of the devastating effect of his simple touches would be insufferable for days. Scout lifted Medic's glasses away, and the world's focus softened. The light down on Scout's arms gave him an edge of glow in the yellow lamplight. "Be careful vith zhose!" Medic barked. "Yeah, yeah." Scout set them down on the bedside table with a surprisingly gentle motion. "I don't run around breaking people's crap all the time, y'know. Just Engie's." He laid himself full length on top of Medic and dove in for a kiss. He made a startled noise when Medic made use of the leverage to grab him and flip him over. "As I vas saying," Medic said, moving down to kiss Scout's throat, "you vill do as I say." "You're senior fag," Scout said. "An' hey, you bein' bossy? Kinda hot." Medic ignored him and set to mapping his body with his fingertips. It was astonishing how much smaller he seemed when pinned down. He gave an impression of size through sheer motion and force of personality. In the rare case when his body was still and quiet, but for softly elevated breathing, it was fascinatingly compact. Medic licked a dark rose nipple, then took it in his mouth for a more dedicated suck. "Jeez, that feels weird," Scout said with a sound that was part laugh and part gasp, shifting beneath him. Medic put one hand on his hip to keep him securely in place. "Not like bad weird or anything." Medic ran his fingers along Scout's ribs, watching as they moved with his quickened breathing. He lifted Scout's hands to kiss the sensitive inner wrist, inhaled his scent from the fold of his elbow. He enjoyed the pulses of arousal slowly winning over his body, the way the air warmed on his skin. He was determined to take his time. How long he had denied himself these sins of the flesh, and for such good reasons, though oddly he could not think of a one of them now. "You're gettin' into it, Doc," Scout said a little breathlessly, rising up on his elbows to watch as Medic kissed the curve of his hipbone. "You been hard up for a while or somethin'?" "Zat is none of your business." Scout seemed to realize this meant yes. Medic touched a trail down his thighs, stroked the exceptionally defined muscles of his calves, and kissed a path upwards again. "What are you gonna do?" Scout said, with a strange note in his voice. "Nazhing you vill not enjoy." Scout watched as Medic's lips brushed his taut stomach. Rather more taut than it should be, in fact, muscles held tight against Medic's attentions. Medic paused and looked up at him, a realization sinking through. "You are nervous," he said with a hint of disbelief. "Naw!" Scout squirmed. Medic's hands held him firmly by the hips. "You are nervous," he repeated, vastly amused. "I have personally vitnessed you charge into machine gun fire, only to respawn and try ze same tactic again, and you are frightened of a naked man." "A naked man who isn't gonna be gettin' any if you don't shut up." "Vell zen." Medic ran his fingertips upwards along the inside of Scout's magnificent thigh. "You give me no choice but to put my mouth to better use." Scout, who in daylight would lower his voice for no one, bit back a fascinating cross of gasp and whimper as Medic's lips enveloped his cock. God in heaven. Medic had nearly forgotten how much he enjoyed this. He heard a soft sound as Scout's head fell back onto the pillow. He was ruthless, finding and exploiting every point of pleasure. Long fingers tangled in his hair, pressing with the palm. Medic smacked Scout's hand away and raised his head. "Pushing downvards is against ze etiquette," he said. Scout's hand fell away. His eyes were closed, lips parted. He ran his tongue across them before he spoke. "Right. Senior fag." His voice was barely more than breath. "Anything you say." Was there anyone who couldn't love that phrase? Medic took special care to reward him well. He wrapped his hand around the base of Scout's cock and lavished the length with his tongue. It was intoxicating to hold the power of being the center of a man's world, having him entirely at his mercy. "Jesus fuck christ doc," said Scout. His thighs clenched and relaxed under Medic's hands as he babbled in rapturous, obscene delirium. Soon even that became beyond him, dissolving into whimpers that crescendoed to a final moan of ecstasy. Medic sat up and wiped his lips. Scout was spread out before him on his bed, fingers clutching and releasing the blanket, legs spread. It was some time before his eyes opened. "Fuck, Doc," he said with a hazy grin. "I...fuck." "High praise," said Medic, not entirely facetiously. He sat back and regarded Scout warmly, giving himself a few lazy strokes to finely hone the edge of his arousal. "So, what do I do for payback?" Scout watched him with interest. "What's good manners n' shit?" "Can you stand?" "Get bent." Scout's jaw set and his eyes flashed, returning to a more familiar expression even while his limbs trembled with the dregs of orgasm. "I ain't leavin' til I'm good an' ready." "That isn't vhat I said. Can you?" Scout pulled his legs up from around Medic and hopped off the bed. "Any other tricks you wanna see?" Medic followed at a more measured pace, slipped around behind Scout, and wrapped his arms around him. The younger man's skin wore a slight sheen of sweat. His body tightened for a moment before relaxing. Medic wondered how long it would take to teach him that his hands would bring only pleasure, make him eager and pliable from the first touch. "Put your hands against ze vall, bitte," Medic said into his ear. To his surprise Scout did as directed, though he threw a glance over his shoulder. "No doin' anything to my ass, okay?" he said. "I ain't ready for the full fag experience." "Of course," Medic murmured. "Keep your legs togezzer." Medic took his cock in hand and pressed it into the cleft where Scout's thighs met. The heat and pressure made him exhale roughly, despite his best attempt at control. "I never thought a' that," Scout said with amazement. "Imagination," Medic said, rocking his hips and trying to suppress his panting as his control frayed, "inspired by your magnificent legs." Scout squeezed his legs together experimentally, and Medic's carefully cultivated self-possession flew out of his grasp. He grabbed Scout's waist and thrust against him with the force and passion of his full body, closing his eyes and opening himself to the full force of the sensation of Scout's hot, slick flesh and the soft noises he made, none more fascinating than the gasp and arch when Medic bit down on his shoulder and released the cry of his climax into his salt skin. Medic stumbled backwards and fell onto his bed before he could remember to let go. Scout landed on top of him as a pile of elbows and knees. The bed being intended for one, there was no room to lay side by side. Scout solved the problem by draping himself over Medic, pushing his arms around until he found a comfortable configuration. "You bit me, Doc." Post-orgasmic, his voice lost its aggressive edge, and his face took on an appealingly dreamy cast. Medic made a note to keep him in this state as much as possible. "I'm gettin' a rabies shot before the next time." "Make an appointment," said Medic. "I vill see if I can fit you in." For now, perhaps, privately, he could admit to a strange fondness for the boy. There was a charm to his brashness, a certain honesty. His recklessness and instantaneous shift from impulse to action spoke of a freedom Medic had never known. "You better." Scout groped for the lamp. He succeeded in knocking it off the table, which gave, to be fair, the same result. "Clumsy idiot," said Medic, running his hand through Scout's short hair. Tomorrow the gloves would be on again. Scout lay his head on Medic's shoulder. Medic felt the brush of lashes on his skin as his eyes closed, and the ghost of his soft, even breathing. "Blow me, dumbcough." The cheapasses in charge here didn't give them beds anywhere near big enough for two, but Scout kept ending up in Medic's anyway. What? His room was nicer. Got like sun in the morning or some shit. Also it was pretty funny to see Medic naked and with his hair all stuck up all over the place, way different from how everybody else only got to see him all wrapped up in a labcoat, and it was funny how the first thing he did was grope his hand around for his glasses to get a better look at the totally hot guy in bed with him. This time Scout was the first awake, and it was quiet. He wasn't used to that. At home there was always somebody putting shoes on or rattling through the closet or talking somewhere until it seemed like the world had been going on for hours without you. The blinds were open and threw in fat bright bars of sunlight onto the bed, around where Scout was wedged between Medic and the opposite wall. He didn't feel any need to get up right away. There weren't any fights scheduled this morning, and it was nice to just lay around a bit without the announcer yelling through the loudspeakers. There wasn't even the usual daybreak sound of Soldier yelling at the dumb rooster Heavy'd stolen from the REDs (he thought it was cute) to DO YOUR GOD-GIVEN JOB, IF YOU THINK WE GIVE OUT FREE RIDES HERE YOU ARE GOING TO FIND YOURSELF SERVING YOUR COUNTRY AS A SORELY MISTAKEN PLATE OF NUGGETS. He must've been sleeping in for once, or stuck between a naked guy and a wall like Scout was. He'd been acting weird lately, talking real quiet, which is to say you couldn't hear him from across the room, mostly around Demo... Okay, that was something Scout really, really didn't need to think about. Thinking about Soldier having sex was like thinking about your mom having sex, except your crazy mom who kept yelling at you to SHINE THOSE BOOTS MAGGOT I WANT TO SEE MY FACE IN THEM no matter how many times you pointed out that you were wearing sneakers and there were plenty of mirrors in the bathroom, jeez. Anyway, laying there was nice for five minutes or so. Then Scout got bored. Also he had a bad case of being a healthy young man early in the morning, and it was jabbing Medic's thigh at an angle that was getting uncomfortable. "Hey." He poked Medic in the arm. "You gonna sleep forever or what?" "Past sunrise for vunce vould be nice," he said without moving or opening his eyes. His voice was all foggy, the way people's were first thing. "Wuss. The sun's been up for ages." "Vas a figure of speech." He flopped his hand around like trying to gesture, but there wasn't much room, so he ended up just kinda patting Scout on the chest instead. "Ja, ja, I am getting up." He looked different without his glasses on. Less like the doctor running around ducking bullets and putting people back together and more like just a guy you'd see anywhere. He looked more naked with them off than without clothes. It made you realize he had eyelashes. "I said wake up," Scout said, pushing the blankets out of the way and climbing on top of him. "I didn't say anything about getting out of bed." Scout kissed him and it was still new, like something he hadn't quite figured out if he could really do anytime he wanted. Medic ran his hands up and down his forearms, which felt way sexier than Scout would ever've thought. His hands were real soft from being in those gloves all the time. Also he was a really good kisser. Scout was sort of getting the hang of this. He'd never been shy around touching people, but still it was weird to touch somebody else in the places and the ways you always had to be careful not to when you were wrestling or horsing around. Just running his hands up for the sake of feeling the ridges of the ribs under his fingertips, and watching how Medic's stomach rose up and down underneath. Scout's model for what a body was like was his own, and Medic's was like it in some ways, but different. Like how Scout'd never thought that little dip in the bone under your throat was anything special, but when he kissed there, Medic made some really interesting sounds. Scout liked how he could make him lose it a little, like getting to a secret nobody else got to see. "Ve vill be late to breakfast," Medic said, sounding and looking like he thought something was funny, kind of a smile that was getting less drowsy. Scout sat up and straddled him. "You give a shit?" "Not really." Medic reached up and pulled him down to kiss him, and it was really weird when your reflexes said anybody who grabbed you was gonna get you in a headlock and bask your face into a wall, but Scout figured he could get used to it. Scout liked how different Medic was in bed from the all-business guy he was on the field, and not just because he hated assumptions about fighting and screwing styles being the same because if he heard one more goddamn crack about being fast he was gonna smack somebody's skull inside out. Medic smelled like guy and like fancy soap. Scout'd thought that was only for girls. Normal soap was good enough for him, you know, the gluey white bar that was older than he could remember and in a weird shape from being stuck back together a dozen times. Did they make fancy soap for guys? Maybe in Germany. It was a definite guy smell. "I vant to show you something good," Medic murmured. His breath tickled Scout's ear. "Yeah?" said Scout, who always had to ask, since he was fast enough to get out of any trouble his curiosity got him into. "Ja. But you must follow my directions exactly." That would sound a lot more stern and official if it weren't coming from a guy with his hair falling loose over his forehead and his nipples showing. That's another you never knew without touching, that his hair was soft. Scout's eyebrows went one up and one down. "What sorta directions we talkin about, Doc?" Medic sat up on his elbows, kind of throwing off Scout's balance, but he could improvise. Medic was trying to give him a look over glasses that weren't there. "Herr Scout, you have let me put your organs back into place vith nothing more than commands zat I hurry up. I zink you can trust me vith a simple thing like this." Okay, so maybe that made some sense. Still, it wasn't like a prom date, where you knew what was gonna happen and who was gonna get to second base. Did guys even have bases? "Yeah, but respawn doesn't cover my ass." They probably measured it with soccer or something else totally gay. "Relax, leibchen," Medic said, running his hands up and down Scout's hips so it was tough to get pissed at how his little smile was kind of whats-the-word. Patron something. Not the tequila. "I am not going to be doing anyzing to you." If Scout had known the word, the little smile on Medic's face would've made him forget it. Along with his own name. "You are going to be doing to me." They did call it batting for the other team, though. While Scout was trying to think of a response that was more sexy and suave than yes please. Medic reached over and felt around in the drawer of the bedside table. In a minute his hand came out holding a jar. "Isn't that the stuff you grease your gun with?" Scout said. "On ze battlefield, vun must improvise," Medic answered as he dipped Scout's fingers in the cool, smooth stuff and told him what to do next. "You crazy?" Scout said, and was going to climb off him except it was hard to get the leverage and a lot of really vocal parts of his body liked it there. "I'm not stickin' anything up your butt! That's gross, man!" Medic's eyebrows had a way of moving around all sorts of ways, like those flags they used to send messages over the distance before they figured out they could just use a phone. "As a matter of fact, you have no reason for concern. The anus is a very efficient self-cleaning organ. " Scout stared at him for a second. Then he couldn't help it and started giggling like a loon. "Man, Doc, you are lucky you're hot, cause that is without a freakin' doubt the worst sexy talk I have ever heard." Medic rolled his eyes. "Get off of me." "Hey, c'mon, I didn't mean it like that." "Do as I say," he said, and there was a promise in his voice that got Scout to actually do it. He rolled off and got up on his knees, waiting for something interesting to happen that'd make up for not having Medic's body between his legs anymore, which would take a lot. Medic rolling over, getting on his hands and knees, and looking at him over his shoulder in a way that had to mean, get on with it, for example. For once, something to say wasn't right on Scout's tongue and jumping out his mouth. He had to go looking for it. "Um," he said, gesturing in a way that didn't help much, "what am I supposed to do?" It was one thing to figure, yeah, liking it when a guy sucked your dick was probably faggy, another to deal with him pointing his ass at you. "Start with your fingers, bitte," Medic said, and yeah, Scout caught him rolling his eyes. Prick. Hot, naked prick. "Use ze lubricant." "You are one bossy fag," Scout said. "You sure, man? This stuff is cold." "It vill varm up." He kind of wriggled his ass, and if he wanted Scout to be able to think that was not the right way to go about it. "Hurry up, ve don't have all day." Then there wasn't anything to do except start sticking fingers up his butt. Scout start out with one, going slow, still half convinced Medic was going to turn around and smack the crap out of him. Instead he just watched over his shoulder and nodded along, making little encouraging sounds like Scout was moving his furniture for him. "That's right, zere. Keep going." It was a surreal feeling. Not really bad though. Scout'd never thought about what this kind of thing felt like from the inside. Sort of warm and tight, and yeah, it was a whole new thing to think about putting his dick in there. "Add anozer," Medic said. His breathing was steady, but Scout got the feeling it was taking some effort. He did like Medic said, cause at the end of the day, a guy had the last call on what went in his butt. The sun through the blinds made right lines on his body and highlighted how deep the black of his hair was, and made the streaks of silver shine. There was something about being the center of an older guy's attention. One who thought Scout was good enough to give him time of day. He was rocking back a little, and his face was tilted up. His hair moved around a lot more when there wasn't that stuff he put in to make it stiff and shiny. Scout put his hand on Medic's hip for balance. "Scissor your fingers." "You sure?" When he nodded, head dipping down below his shoulders, Scout did. "Doesn't that hurt?" "Nein." Medic shifted around to open his legs up more. His hand was pressing down hard on the mattress, making little valleys around the fingers. "A little. Like ze ache of running, or ze bruises of a vinning fight." Scout had to say he was pretty impressed with how the doc kept his cool. Maybe that's what made his stomach jump when he curled his fingers a little and Medic gasped, with his eyes gone wide. "Sorry, sorry! Am I not supposed to do that?" Shit, Scout didn't know the rules here! He sure as hell didn't want to break anything. "Again," Medic said, rocking himself back onto Scout's fingers. Scout tried to remember what he'd done and where he'd touched. This time he watched Medic's face as close as he could while he was around the other end, though he didn't even have to, because he could feel it through the hand on medic's hip, how he tensed and arched his back while his lips opened and let out a moan you could tell he was trying to keep quiet cause it wasn't much more than a breath. Scout noticed his cock was so hard it hurt. "Sehr gut," Medic murmured, and it was a good thing it was too himself cause Scout sure didn't have a clue what he was talking about. "English, doc, you gotta tell me what to do here." "You're doing very vell on your own." Christ, who'd ever heard Medic's voice go like that before, especially wiggling his hips like that? Come to think of it, running around hauling a laser heal gun and trying to keep all of them glued together gave you a serious case of nice ass. He was breathing hard, and his back was arching. "Now, take me." Scout's mind went blank. "Like, what, to the movies?" "No, dummkopf," Medic growled, twisting around to glare at him and sounding a lot more like himself, naked and with his hair stuck to his forehead a little with sweat or not. "Ze ozzer sense." "Zee....ohh." "Slick yourself vell, I don't vant to be injured by your clumsiness." He had the stern thing in his voice down pretty well until Scout pulled his fingers out and it ended in a moan. Scout didn't think he'd ever done anything faster than he got that lube on. He wasn't really sure where to put his hands. They ended up on Medic's hips, and he didn't seem to mind, so he went with that. He got things all lined up, and hesitated. "So do I just...?" "Ja," Medic panted, pushing back so that Scout could feel him at the tip of his cock. "You just." At first he thought it wasn't going to work. Then he pushed a little harder. "Oh christ fuck shit motherfucker goddamn." "Yes," said Medic. His head was arching back, making this throat stand out. Scout pressed in slow, or at least he thought it was slow, he didn't have any standards to go by here. Medic grabbed the headboard with one hand and made this sound that was like a car that wouldn't start except incredible. "Zat's right," Medic panted. "Keep going, just like zat." Truth was, Scout didn't need to be told anymore. He was the kind of guy who trusted his body more than his brain, and if his brain said this should be gross and weird, his body disagreed by moving out and in a little, and shit shit that was nice, so Scout did it some more. Medic let out a moan that must have come from down in the pit of his stomach, arching and grabbing so the muscles in his arms stood out. He whispered, "Mehr..." Scout was sliding out a little, and said, "Man, I told you, I don't speak that shit!" Medic reached back and grabbed his thigh to pull him in, leaning his head back with eyes with more open punch-you-in-the-gut want than Scout'd ever seen, and said, "More." There were times you just didn't argue. Scout let his body do what it wanted, and that was fuck Medic like there was no tomorrow. He made sounds that might've been German or might've just been sounds, all Scout knew was they were good and all he had to do to get more was move into him. It was like running except in place and it felt like angels and magic and all that goofy stuff except on his dick. Medic let go of Scout's leg so he could jack himself off, mumbling and moaning stuff that had to be obscene. Scout was moving in a wild way he couldn't even think about controlling, and even thinking at all was more than he could handle right now except if it was hot and fuck and good., and when he came it was like having his lights punched out by an angel. While he was still halfway to la-la land, he felt Medic grabbing his hand and moving it on his dick, which seemed like a pretty good idea. Scout'd never jerked off anybody who wasn't him, but it was pretty much the same, except for how it felt different and the gasps Medic made until he spilled over his hand and dropped onto the bed. Scout rolled off of him, or tried to. He got stuck up against the wall again. That was okay. Felt kinda nice and cool against how hot his skin was. Right now, the wall could get blasted down by a pile of dynamite and it'd be okay. It felt real quiet, now, with just the birds outside and Medic's breathing as it slowed down. He looked relaxed, with his eyes lidded and a smile kind of curling around the corners of his mouth. Scout said, "Gaddamn." Medic said, "Mm-hm." "You give pretty good instructions." Medic laughed, slow and deep. "You sveet talker." It was quiet again for a minute. Good quiet. That was the thing about Medic; he didn't chatter all the time just cause he felt like he was supposed to. "We should probably go down to breakfast, huh," Scout said. Medic moved around to fit him better by his side. "It's Pyro's turn to cook. Zey vill be flicking ze burners off and on to stare at zem for a vhile yet." "Good thing. Don't feel like movin' yet." Scout flopped over Medic, just to bug him, but instead of trying to push him off he just laughed, so he settled in. "S'nice here." Even if the company did need to give them bigger beds. Cheap bastards.
Damn, I really loved the last one- all nice and slow (and hot).
gotten a hand bitten off while he was in the outback throwing boomerangs at dingoes. I laughed way too hard at that. Oh, Scout. Your stereotypical reasoning is way too much.
There are no words.
The first one made me HOT O_O
How on earth did I miss 'Keep Your Comrade Warm' the first time round?
>>7 O_O Cut that shit out. By the way does the original /(a)fanfic/ format allow for post reporting? Because I feel like there's been a few underage-sounding posts here recently, but I can't report them.
>>9 Now that you bring it up, I don't see an actual report button. Well, shit.
Oh, dear lord. Am I ever so glad to see these. I missed "Go Avay" dearly, but to find two other magnificent pieces along with it? My terrible day has been made all better. Thank you.
"Go Avay" is the best thing since peanut butter. Daymn.
> DO YOUR GOD-GIVEN JOB, IF YOU THINK WE GIVE OUT FREE RIDES HERE YOU ARE GOING TO FIND YOURSELF SERVING YOUR COUNTRY AS A SORELY MISTAKEN PLATE OF NUGGETS. >Thinking about Soldier having sex was like thinking about your mom having sex, except your crazy mom who kept yelling at you to SHINE THOSE BOOTS MAGGOT I WANT TO SEE MY FACE IN THEM no matter how many times you pointed out that you were wearing sneakers and there were plenty of mirrors in the bathroom, jeez. I lost it, completely. Don't usually like Medic/Scout but this was fucking aweome.
Fucking thank you. Th'other night, was scouring my hard drive for Keep Your Comrade Warm, and was incredibly sad when I found I didn't actually have it. Well now I do. Danke.
Bumped, because the world must see this. Seriously. You're awesome. You should feel awesome, and also write more. A lot more. Dear god, I need fanart for this. Especially the first one.
so yummy
I always go back to these stories when I need to remind myself what great writing is.
I know this is old, but "AUSSIE SQUIDFUCKER!" I had to stop reading for a good minute or two until I could stop giggling.