[Back by popular demand, maybe I'll actually finish the storyline this time. No smut for the first few chapters, but it gets there, I swear. Inspired by, but not really based on, Humon's comic of the same name] --------------------------------------------------------- The Sniper and the Scout were engaged in target practise, which is to say, the Sniper was methodically sending arrows through the bullseye, trying to get his speed up, while the Scout blasted his scattergun in the general direction of the targets. "Why'ncha get a REAL weapon?" the Scout mocked. The scattergun roared out as he unleashed a hail of bullets downrange. A few of them hit the bales of hay they were theoretically aiming at. "The bow's a fine weapon. Silent, quick to reload, and out in the brush, you can make your own ammo. I'd thank you to keep to your own target, mind. Crafting 'em takes a while." The Sniper drew the bow and fired in one effortless motion. His sheer calm infuriated the Scout. He was going to get to the Sniper if it was the last thing he did. "Yeah, right. You just never got over playing Cowboys And Indians. It's a freakin' kids' weapon!" The Sniper nocked, pulled and fired, again piercing the bullseye without apparently aiming. "You think so?" the Sniper gave a faint half-smile. "Why don't you have a go, show me just how easy it is." Nock, pull, fire, and he handed the weapon to the Scout. Scout glared at the weapon. "Sure thing. Ya realise, ya look like a total faggot, prancin' around with this thing?" He yanked at the string, which barely budged. With a mighty heave, he managed to draw the bow, and held it with trembling arms. "Ya want people ta think you're a homo?" "Why should I care if they know?" the Sniper said quietly. Several things happened quite quickly. The Scout started to yelp in surprise, let go of the bowstring, which peeled the skin off the inside of his forearm, and the yelp changed to a scream of pain, "What the HELL, man?" The Scout clasped his smarting arm to his chest, dropping the bow. "Don't dry-fire it, never drop it, they're both bad for the weapon." The Sniper's slightly wider smile belied his instructive calm. Scout knew the asshole was laughing at him. "You can't just SAY shit like that... oh shit oh shit oh shit, you're not gonna try an' jam something up my ass now! Exit only, EXIT ONLY!" By now, the Sniper was genuinely laughing, a quiet chuckle, but nonetheless. "Not bloody likely, mate, I'm a bottom. What would I do, hold yer at gunpoint 'til you agreed to roger me rotten? I don't know how your tastes run, runt, but doesn't seem likely!" The Australian walked down-range to get his arrows, shoulders still shaking, and left the Scout gaping behind him.
Love your Snipers Love them to death And yes. CONTINUE
FFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU-
MOAR. That's all.
>>1 maybe I'll actually finish the storyline this time. Yes, please do! I love this story so much.
I want very badly for you to finish this Marty. Please please please please please.
The Scout was in a state of shock for days. Running around the base, he'd think: no-one just ADMITS that! Bashing in skulls: what's that even mean, a bottom? Grabbing the RED intel: he actually wants guys to do THAT? He was burning with curiosity. It was bad enough when there was a battle on, and at least he had hollering enemies to keep him distracted. Alone in his bunk, he wondered. How could the Sniper be an actual fag? How did he turn into a fag? Did he want to be a lady, or something? Did something gross happen to make him a fag? Did he LIKE it? The Scout briefly wondered what it felt like to have THAT done to you, but firmly vetoed any thoughts of anal experimentation on his own. Poop comes from there. He jerked off, resolutely thinking of anything BUT the Sniper. A few days later, when his teammates' random collisions left him alone in the mess hall with the Sniper, his curiosity boiled over. "Yo, Snipes," he said, almost without thinking, "so you're a fag?" "Yeah." As the Sniper took another bite of his lunch, it became clear that this was as far as his answer went. "But, man, I mean," the Scout tried to distill the life-altering cognitive dissonance generated by a homosexual Sniper into a concise statement: "HOW?!" "... Generally I'd like to go out for drinks with a bloke a few times, maybe go walkabout in the bush for a couple days, get to know each other..." the Sniper smiled wryly. "No!" the Scout hissed, aware that he was being mocked and terrified that someone might hear him even talking about this. "I mean, why guys? How do you even WANT guys? Do you even KNOW about girls?" The Sniper grimaced slightly. "Scout, I know you're just curious an' all, but do try not to be a total wanker, right? I just like blokes. I like how they look, how they laugh, how they smell, how their hands feel. Yes, I've tried it with sheilas, and yes, they're softer and all, but it's just not me cuppa, all right?" "Awright, awright, I'm just... tryina get a handle on this." Scout thought for a moment- a very short moment. "So you really let guys DO IT to ya? I mean, WHY? Did someone touch you funny as a kid an' make ya weird?" "Much as I appreciate your concern for me psychological well-being, you've gotta understand: now yer just bein' disgustin'. No-one 'made me weird.' I've just liked blokes, for as long as I can remember. I have gone to great and occasionally embarrassing lengths to keep a bloke's attention." "So you just... LIKE it?" "What better reason to do anything, runt? I could've stayed in the Smoke, become a doctor, married some poor sad sheila... but I didn't want to. So I went to the bush, taught meself to hit a gnat in the eye from a mile away, got into interestin' situations with a variety of blokes, and generally did as I bloody well pleased." He stood up and tipped his hat. As he walked away, Scout couldn't think of any further questions.
Bahahahah. I am no big fan of Scout, but he's kind of adorable here.
I don't remember saying this last time, so I'll gush now: thank you, THANK YOU, for writing Scout as the obnoxious mouthy prick he would be. It's so rare that porn with the Scout in it is done in-character.