Summary: Scout is interested in Sniper's job. Prefixed A/N: I'm a bit of a lurker, and I have never posted before... In fact, I haven't written fanfic in quite some time! And never for TF2! So if there's a way I can improve or shine up my writing, it would be lovely to hear it. Not that I should be that dusty. I have about ten parts planned for this story, but unfortunately... I'm not sure how it will end, yet. I am sure of everything else but unsure of exactly how I'm going to end it. In writing this here, I hope between developing parts as I go and your comments, I will know for sure when the time comes. So... here it is! Stop listening to me gibber on and get to it! (It's very exposition-y this part.) Chapter One: Roles Out of ammo, out of breath, and running out of time were trivialities to Scout. Who needs any of that shit? All he needed was cap a point and bada-boom, time extended! Let his heart pound and his hamstrings tense, he said. There was a job to do and there wasn't a guy alive more suited to do it. He sprinted across the higher ledges of the BLU structures, easily propelling himself across gaps and over protrusions. Out in front of him the point emerged into his view and not a single BLU lay in his way. Sure of this, he kicked off the roof and took to the ground, bat pulling along behind him and scraping against the wall, trailing sparks in short bursts behind him, as well as a lot of noise. But even if a BLU was around, what would those chuckleheads do to him? He rounded the cap, skidding his sneakers into it and making a home-run! "Woo hoo!" he exclaimed, flipping his cap into the air. "Dayum, those BLUs didn't even try! I ain't even sweatin'!" he bragged to no-one in particular. He leaned against the rail of the bridge the capture point was on and took a can of coke out of his satchel and cracked it open. He'd put way too much energy running up here despite it being clear of enemies, and he needed the refreshment. There were quite a few struggling against his team-mates back on the last point that he'd managed to streak past. They were probably all done in by then, though. "Awright, back to the Hard-hat for some ammo and then we're gonna waste the next point." He turned around, bat slung over his shoulder and then... reflexively swung it right into a Spy's head making a 'thonk!' and sending him flying straight into the river below. The sudden surge of adrenaline faded just as quickly, and he went to lean over the bridge and check he got the guy good. "Fuckin' backstabbin' dime-a-dozen shitbag! DOMINATED!" He thrust his bat at the lifeless body. Damn, he was good. He took a nice deep breath to wind himself down from that outburst, and decided he better get going before he ended up in a cinch that would require some ammo... like if someone tougher or with a longer range dropped in on him. He backed up from the bridge and collided against something... what the hell? He turned his head before the rest of himself and there he saw the same damn spy, poised over him with knife ready to collide straight with Scout's back. And Scout's bat arm was hanging limply at his side. He knew in that split second what the outcome of this stand-off was going to be. There was the Spy, seconds away from digging into his spine, and there was him not even standing up straight having been hunched over the bridge's edge. He didn't have time to have a swing at him, or move away, or turn enough to take the blow somewhere less painful and deadly. He knew instantaneously he was a goner. He shut his eyes and tensed, because that was all he could to to brace himself for the inevitable. And then he heard a whoosh and a grisly sound. Next thing, the bastard was slouching on him, and then sliding to the side to sprawl on the floor. Dead. What? He confusedly pushed the corpse with his bat, turning it from it's side to being face-down. There was a hole in his head. Piecing it together, he glanced at where he'd been standing, traced a line with his eyes to where the Spy had been, and up into the higher reaches of the surrounding structures, in a towering RED fort with numerous battle-marred windows. He caught sight of a hat and the barrel of a gun receding from one of them. "...Shit, dude." He breathed out. Stuck in a slight just-tangoed-with-death trance, it took noticing sound emanating from the BLU side of the bridge to get him to hop on a foot and start pelting towards RED territory. He rounds a couple corners, managing not to have been caught in the sights of the encroaching BLUs. Allowing his brain to stray back to his team-mate, he fit together that his ass just got saved. By that pansy fucking campground. Making a decision on the fly with no regard to his ammo situation or the possible needs of his team, he takes an extra turn in his path and hoists himself back onto the roofs to take a direct route straight to the Sniping roost he saw before. -- He found the stairs and took them up to what he was confident was the room. Sure enough, he was met with the other side of those destroyed windows... but no Sniper. "Yo, Bush-man! Where you at?" The door behind him closed, making him jolt around only to see Sniper there, looking a little disgruntled with his Kukiri erect. "I suppose you ain't a Spy like I thought... No Spy would call that kind'a attention on himself." He made his way across the room, tossing his blade on a box and kicking a blanket aside to pick up his rifle from where he'd apparently hid it. "Honestly, I see a bleedin'' Scout coming in here and I think, nah, couldn't be that much of an idiot," he scanned the perimeter of the outside, checking for pursuers, "Trailin' the enemy straight up 'ere, must be a bleedin' Spy. You'd think, at least." Scout was affronted by the thought that a Spy could run that fast. "Whateva, man, if anyone followed me I'd just hurt 'em." He swung his bat over his shoulder again, clearly displaying his competence. "Well now you best be watchin' that door since there's a good chance you were seen and my cover is blown." "Pssht, what?" Scout scoffed, "Who said I had time for that? I just came to say thanks, I can't play guard duty." "We're holdin' up fine." Sniper checked the site of the two team's clash through his sight. "Thanks to you, we only have one point to go. So do a little guard duty." Jeez, it was like he was Pyro all of a sudden or something. But whatever, he could play along and bludgeon any poor sap who tried to start shit up here... in this grody sky-shack. The team knew Snipey's fixation with piss was a thing but he didn't oft suffer being in the same room as... one, two... six jars of Jarate. Yeesh. Scout watched Sniper at his job for a while. It was weird and he didn't feel like he was on the battlefield anymore because of how quiet and still it was up there. Sniper wasn't even shooting at anything, just very quietly staring down his scope. Fucking camper. Everybody had kind of a poor view on Sniper's sniping. Not Sniper himself, he was a great guy, but his way of killing people was so indirect. It seemed unfair at times that they were risking their necks up front while he stayed a hundred meters back. That said, he was an asset. They all knew that. But Scout had just gotten much closer than he'd ever to really understanding that. BOOM! a shot rang out, going through an engineer's skull and letting a spy of RED disposition in to freely dismantle his toys. It startled the shit out of Scout, who had likely never been directly beside to a sniper rifle being shot before. "Nice one, champ," Scout cheered. Sniper leaned away from the window and slouched against the wall outside of the window's view to let out a 'phew!' and take a sip of coffee. "That wasn't much special, laddie," he smiled coyly. "Ain't not, though. You saved my hide out there with that shot of yours." Sniper shrugged. "'S what I do, it's my job description. I've been taking out people about to rush ya all the time. You don't thank me for any of those. Granted yer probably a bit distracted." "I guess like, when I'm taking on someone else, yeah. I usually don't really check the body to see who saved my hide... but, like, seriously. I was shittin' myself out there for a second." Sniper smiled. "Eh, you're welcome. But like I said, 's my job anyhow." A bullet shaved the window-sill in front of Sniper's nose and lodged in the back wall. "Crikey. Looks like I'm moving base, lad." -- Over the next couple weeks, Scout started preferring to hang around Sniper's camp during battle. He wasn't being useless, he did catch numerous Spies and other riff-raff trying to get the jump on Sniper, but it wasn't tactic that kept him up in those roosts. He was interested. The other team members had always dismissed Sniper as "the camper" and he'd just gone along with that enforced assumption. When he first joined he had been all about trying to play with rocket-launchers and sticky bombs 'cause they were such interesting instruments. The people carrying them obviously took great pride in them and used them to great effect. Because of his assumptive impressions about Sniper's role, he was only now, after his close shave with BLU Spy, realizing it was also an important and very freaking cool one. He would strike up conversation with Sniper while he worked and they grew much more friendly. Sniper didn't cause ruckuses in the mess hall or get involved with the numerous random disputes and moments of excitement during non-fighting hours, he always played the background character when the team was together. This was the first time Scout really spoke to him, because it was one-on-one and there weren't pot-crazy Soldiers there to start ranting about Sun Tzu. "So me mum, right? She freaks out and I'm tellin' her it's just a snake... I went ahead and chopped it's head off but she still refused to come down from the kitchen counter." "Hah! Jeez, I can't even imagine doin' that to Ma, she was disgusted at me just for bringing a puppy home." Yes, they were quickly becoming friends. Not that they weren't already-- all the team-mates were chummy enough, their camaraderie forged in the fires of the RED-BLU dispute. But nobody talked about trivial things or their parents or homes like the two of them did in the long hours in the sniping roosts. Scout didn't follow anyone else around to watch them handle their weapon with deft fingers, listen to them breathe as they lined up shots, or admire the focus in their eyes.
Alright, so this is awesome because Scout isn't being a total jerk for once. I mean, don't get me wrong, I love Scout being the ass he is, it's hysterical. However, every once in a while you find a fic that keeps him both in-character and tolerably obnoxious. This fic is doing just that. Your changing of tense in the beginning threw me for a loop, kind of, but it wasn't difficult to look past that to enjoy the writing itself. I'm not especially fantastic at noticing grammar errs, nor do I consider myself a seasoned critic, but I really enjoyed this. I also liked it because you included the Dead Ringer. It's one of my least favorite weapons as it tends to be the one which kills me most in-game. I can't wait to read more.
Very nice start for a first fic! You’ve definitely caught my interest. I hope you won’t mind a bit of critique, though. Your writing is good, but there are a few things you could do to make it even stronger and better at catching the reader’s attention. As >>2 mentioned, you have to watch your tense; you’re writing in past tense, but sometimes present tense verbs slip in (the last paragraph of the first part, for instance) and it breaks up the easy flow of the reading. It’s a shame, because your story reads pleasantly otherwise, so maybe just do an extra read-through with focus on that for your next instalment. You also have to watch your point of view; sometimes it slips from Scout and becomes... Sniper’s? Omniscient? For example: It startled the shit out of Scout, who had likely never been directly beside to a sniper rifle being shot before. The first part of the sentence is written very clearly in Scout’s voice, using a swearword to show the reader it’s his point of view, but the second part after the comma switches away from him—Scout obviously knows whether he’s been next to a firing sniper rifle before. If you remove ‘likely’, it’s better. If you describe Scout’s experience of the firing rifle, it’d be the best; how surprisingly loud it is to him, if he flinches, if he’s surprised Sniper doesn’t flinch at the sound, seeing Sniper’s body jerk from the recoil. It all helps to cement the point of view. Also, you do a fair bit of telling, not showing. For example: BOOM! a shot rang out, going through an engineer's skull How do we know the shot hit an Engineer? Our point-of-view character is Scout, so we can only know what he knows. You could describe him leaning out of the window to see Sniper’s target and spotting the now-headless Engineer; again, this would give you an opportunity to use Scout’s reactions to transfer his feelings to the reader. Is he impressed with the shot, does he recall close calls with Engineers and sentries himself, etc.? Is he leaning against Sniper to get a better view, does Sniper allow Scout to crowd his personal space, put a hand on his shoulder? This could all be used to show the dynamics of their developing friendship/relationship. These are just minor corrections, though. I hope you’ll consider them and not be discouraged, because I’m really liking your fic and looking forward to the next part. Please keep up the good work!
Oh verdammt, did I switch tenses? I noticed after I first wrote the opener that I had been switching tenses so I went back and fixed it, I thought. I must not have been thorough enough. I'll definitely try to keep myself in line after that! I'm glad you noticed the appearance of the Dead Ringer, because I wasn't sure if not explicitly stating it was would be confusing or people would figure it out. ;)
>>3 I'm definitely being more careful about that. I'm always in a rush to write as I think. However, switching points of view was intentional. I was trying to expose his thoughts while still narrating. If it didn't work for you, it may have been a bad attempt. I can see how it would be confusing... And DAMMIT YOU'RE RIGHT. I was so busy thinking about exposition and setting the story's platform I totally missed a golden opportunity.
This post has been deleted.
Chapter Two: Taste of the Action Sniper busted a laugh that made Scout nearly drop his soda. "Oy, com'ere and have a look at this." He propped the rifle steadily so Scout could have a look. Through the sight he witnessed a BLU Demoman. Of course, he was clearly drunk. He was also balancing-- or doing his utmost to-- on an outreaching plank on a shoddy piece of architecture. It was a wonder why he would-- he couldn't possibly want to bring on pirate jokes. He must get enough jibes, already, knowing how much they make fun of their own Demo (good-naturedly of course). "I don't get it, what's there to see? Our Demo makes himself look like a damned fool all the friggin' time." "Check out his crotch." Scout recoiled from the rifle at this, his nose wrinkled and a general grimace plastering his face. Sniper raised an eyebrow. "He's got his pants on. Come 'ere and watch him until he does it again." He rapped the crate he was sitting on with his knuckles. His eyes were set on the distant Demo and he didn't see Scout hesitate to join him. Scout didn't really acknowledge it, himself. After all, he was being told to look at that Demo's crotch, there was a pretty good reason to. Scout leaned into the rifle's sight and watched. He thought he was going to be blinded for life when he noticed the Demo reach for his vest flap. But he was treated to it anyway, and he immediately burst out laughing too. "Oh fuckin' A, he drew a smiley on his doink." Sniper chuckled. "Ye never miss these things up here like you would down on the field, I swear. That BLU in particular has given me a few good laughs, the drunkard." Scout leaned in enthusiastically. "You really like bein' up here?" "It's not shabby." Sniper smiled. Scout couldn't help but smile back. It might have been because the older man didn't seem to be much of a smiling person, but it was infectious to the Scout. "You know what, though," he tended back to his rifle to scan for targets, "It's not really about liking it. It's about what needs'a be done. If I had to camp out in a sewer I would. Doin' what needs be done for the job is what a professional does." Scout rolled his eyes. "I thought you liked your job! Ain't no need to be all... rational and shit about it, if you like it anyway." "Eh, you wouldn't get it. Look at ye, here, striking up conversation with me almost every mission 'steada cappin' points! You wouldn't know professionalism if it had it's crocodile teeth munchin' ye leg!" Scout snorted at the fact Sniper compared professionalism to a hungry crocodile, now stuck with an image of Sniper willingly letting crocodiles chew on him for the sake of being professional. "Yeah yeah... you'll just have to be a good example." Sniper draped his arm around the Scout's shoulders and shook him. "Take after me and you'll be a pro at whatever it is ye do out there." Scout smiled sheepishly. He couldn't help but glance inconspicuously at the hand on his far shoulder. Sniper's hands were kind of spangley, but they were bigger than his. And they were chilly even through his shirt, soaking up all his heat. It wasn't unpleasant. The hand slid off his shoulder and brushed his back and bumped his arm on the way back to Sniper's tools. Their crate seat was a bit towards the opposite of spacious. Scout was finding the closeness increasingly uncomfortable, and he couldn't pin down why. It's not like he wasn't used to being crammed with eight other dudes. He had permissed their own Demoman to sneak into his cot in his drunkenness without being terribly bothered. Amused, even. He chewed him out later for it for shits and giggles. Maybe it was because he was too absorbed. He spent a lot of his time up here watching Sniper. He was the voyeur in this. He was doing it out of curiosity-- he was eager to pick up on all the little habits of sniping. The grip, the slow scanning, the utmost focus that even drowned out Scout's babbling at times. It was no wonder Sniper was always getting ambushed when Scout wasn't around to watch his back. "Hey... can I take a shot at that thing?" "Ye wot?" Sniper said, befuddled. "Ye mean my gun? No, ye've never touched one. You could end up taking down an ally by accident." "Then I won't shoot at a person! I just wanna try it out, yeah?" Sniper considered this. He did have a job to do, but, it wasn't like anything was going change drastically if he zoomed out for five minutes. "A'iright," he looked out into the distance, picking out a non-human target. "Y'see that buildin' with the three windows? Pop out the middle one." Scout squinted to look far in the distance, but the window in question turned out to be about twenty yards in front of them. "What, that huge target? Come on, give me something at least easy-mode, not fucking-unfailable!" "Ha! Hit the target I gave ye and I'll consider it." Scout took up the rifle and pointed it at the window, sure of himself. He didn't see how he could fail to hit a window he could take out with his baseball from here. He fired and was jarred back by the impact. Sparks grazed off the metal sheet of the roof. "Ah you kiddin' me?!" He gaped. "Aw hell naw. That musta been the kickback's fault." He lined up another attempt. This time he braced the weapon like he had seen Sniper do so many times already, and surely aimed at the window. But instead a chunk of drainage pipe clanged off and clattered to the ground. Sniper yanked his rifle back before Scout wasted all his ammo. "Ah told ya. You'll end up getting someone accidentally killed like that, short-stop." "No, fuck, just... just one more time!" Sniper sighed and stood up, taking stance behind their sitting crate. He pushed the rifle in front of the both of them and placed Scout's hands on the gun, gripping them inside their own. "H-hey! I don't need--" Sniper hushed him. "Quiet down and aim." Scout looked back at the target and pointed the gun at it, his fingers tightening and loosening under Sniper's grip. "Relax," Sniper said in a low, hushed tone, "Don't worry about the kick too much. I'll hold it, so just aim and fire." Scout felt compelled by the ambience to hush his breathing but he was super-aware of how chest was rising and falling with it. Sniper tightened around him, steadying his body by putting his chest to Scout's back. "I've got you. Just aim. When you're sure you've got it, fire." Scout's focus was falling quickly, but he stared right at the window. He just wasn't ready to shoot. There was something keeping him very still, extending the moment. He squeezed the trigger hesitantly, but eventually it clicked in and the shot fired. There was a shatter of glass that shook him out of his trance. He'd hit the window to the left. "Heh," Sniper laughed shortly as he released grip on the younger man, prying away his gun, "Close enough, I s'pose." "Close enough?" Scout growled, standing up and scowling at the offensive window. "My aim is better than that!" "Oi, it's nothin' te be ashamed about. Not everyone's gonna be proficient." Scout pointed out the window heatedly. "See that? That window right all the way out the otha' end of the field?" Sniper looked. "...You don't mean the one on the BLU base." "Yeah, that one!" "That's quite a ways away. You're not usin' my gun te try and hit that." "Just watch it, okay?" Scout darted out of the roost, and Sniper heard footsteps stomping overhead. "What'er ye doin' ye crazy idiot?! Trying to call attention to us? I--" He dropped his words when he heard the noise of a baseball pitch, and caught sight of it streaking across the sky. It arced towards the BLU base and, would you know it, took out the exact window Scout had identified. "...Blight me..."
I'm loving this story. Please continue! The way Scout tells off Sniper that he can aim, priceless. I would love to see his face.
This is... nice. Enjoyable. Pretty well written, and I'm rather curious to see were it goes.
Annoyingly verbose anon >>3 checking in again—and I have to say this chapter was everything I asked for in my critique! It was simply just delicious to read. The whole description of Sniper teaching Scout to shoot his rifle, guiding his hands and leaning in against him to brace him, and Scout freaking out about it but too proud to complain, was perfect. It was such a great scene! And of course the end, with Scout knocking down Sniper a notch and showing him exactly why he’s earned his membership of the team, made me grin. I feel you’ve got their characterisations down really well. So yeah, nothing to critique in this part! Thanks for sharing; please keep up the good work, I’m looking forward to more!
>>10 I'm glad you like it that much, thank you for pointing me in the right direction! >>8 and >>9 thank you. I hope everyone enjoys where I take it from the next segment as much as I will, I'm very excited about it.
Chapter 3: Incapacitated "Private, you are an American! You will not be pansying around behind the lines in the forthcoming battle!" Soldier railed on, disturbing everyone's morning with his delusion-laced speech. "You will be on the very front capping that point, mister!" "What the hell's wit' this double-standard?! Snipes is allowed to be a hundred miles back and I ain't? I been catchin' spies and shit, I ain't slackin'..." "As I said, you are American! He is not! He is from a sissy continent! If you insist on peeing your frilly pink panties you will do it discharged! And deported!" "Tch, whateva!" Scout gave a sarcastic salute and sauntered out of the mess hall, taking his plate with him. Sniper, having heard Soldiers rave along with everyone else, picked up his food as well and jogged to catch up to him. "He's bonkers, but he's right this time." Scout snorted. "That you're from a sissy continent?" "Ye've been spendin' too much time in my roost." Sniper carried on past the comment, "Yer supposed to be on offence." Scout slid his plate onto a piece of board on top of a few tires-- a sort of makeshift lawn table they'd thrown together way back. He'd led Sniper outside the barracks, to where it was quiet and out of BLU's reach during downtime. The peace even had a sky smeared with receding bits of colour from the sunrise. Sniper joined him, a furrowed brow in place. "It ain't no big thing," Scout dismissed, "I'll cap a few points and then I can come around again. As long as I capture points, I can spend the rest of my time pushing around Spies, right?" Pushing around Spies had admittedly become less frequent as it had been caught on the Sniper was being guarded well every mission. He didn't want to admit the usefulness of his position was waning. Sniper shook his head. "Ain't about what you want to do, lad. Show a bit of professionalism, will ye? We all got roles in this team, an'--" "They capture points without me! Lardo just goes in and sweeps up the place an'--" "An' you're not helping him or doing what's in your job description." "I came out here so I could not be lectured, you know." Scout huffed, frustrated. Frustrated because Sniper was right. Frustrated because the way this was going, it looked like he was basically going to get kicked out of their buddy-buddy sessions. "I just..." Sniper had no guesses where that sentence was going to trail to. "Just?" "It's... more exciting with you." An eyebrow was raised. Being cooped into those hiding spaces wasn't unpleasant, but 'exciting' seemed a bit overstated. "What's so exciting about watching my door?" "It's not the part where I catch the suits," Scout hesitated to put together the right words, "It's just... different. On the field I'm comfortable, you know? I'm used to the adrenaline, an' I'm used to blowin' guy's guts out. It's no biggie. But like, with you... It's exciting." Sniper nodded. Unexpected, but he thought he saw where Scout was coming from. But... "That's no excuse to shirk your job." "Christ, it's always about bein' a pro with you!" Scout sighed and tried to relax and stop acting like a frustrated child. "Whateva', I'll take to the field today at least. I'll worry about gettin' fired later." -- Scout was being pursued. Normally that wouldn't be a problem... he's the fastest mercenary of all. Except he was being trailed after by the one enemy that could at least keep up-- the opposing Scout. They fruitlessly shot at each-other, just out of distance to do a significant amount of damage but close enough that neither wanted to let up the chase lest they get caught, or lost their prey relatively. They were tearing around in what was basically a circle around the outside of the capture point, riding the walls of the two coloured barricades. This couldn't go on or else the BLU would get smart and come up with a way to overtake him. So Scout took a risk, and darted into BLU's territory. He figured it was unexpected enough to buy him time, and it did catch the other Scout enough to give him a half-meter's space. He was coming up to another capture point-- a clear, open space where perhaps he would have leg room to guide the two back the other way... hopefully back to where there was a RED who could take the BLU down with him. He approached the clearing, nearly reaching the corner. A whistle resounded, faint but closed with a grisly noise. It was the unmistakably sound of a bullet. Next thing Scout knew, he was skidding to the floor face first. An immense pain shot through his leg and he couldn't do anything but panick. He completely missed the equally startled BLU Scout reflexively jump over him, kicking the RED's baseball bat along with him. What he didn't miss was the sound of a sentry lock onto his bat and fire a batch of little missiles straight at the unsuspecting BLU. He was taken out with friendly fire, just like that, completely by accident. Scout groaned and hissed, the slightest movements culminating more sharp pain in his leg. There was blood soaking his sneakers and he knew he was in deep shit, if not how it had happened. He swept his gaze toward the clearing, and to where he had come from. There was nobody around. Only that was becoming untrue-- he could hear an Engineer of BLU jogging out to check the sentry that had just nearly annihilated him. Panicked, with his main asset out of the equation, he ducked into a shed-like protrusion and was relieved to find it was linked to an entire storage room. He got lucky and hobbled, scraped, and groaned his way back to the RED base, injury in tow. If anyone had happened along any part of the path he took, they would have been able to find him by following the trail of blood gushing out. When he finally made it within sight and earshot of his team, he fell to the ground, exhausted and unable to bring himself to advance another inch. "Medic..."
Chapter Four: Apologies He felt a hot aura around him. The Medigun's sweet tingle was making his hair stand on end. It was the only thing he recognized through the tiny opening he could pry from under his eyelids. Else-wise there was a red expanse of what he could only presume was ceiling, and the chassis hanging the gun above him. He turned his little to the right and there was a draped plastic curtain on a rail, and a tray of instruments he wouldn't be happy to see anywhere near his flesh ever. A hospital room? "Am I still on base?" he asked himself. His head lolled over to his left shoulder. He was certainly in some sort of gurney. And... gross, there was blood spattered all over it. Actually, he could feel a lot more of it near his feet. And beside him, standing and looking in the opposite direction of Scout, was Sniper. His hand was clasped over his mouth, index rubbing his lower lip, and he looked like he was sick or worried like nobody on the team had ever seen him. "Snipes...?" Scout growled out in an undertone, catching the man by surprise and wresting his eyes away from a doorway across from them. "Oh, praise the queen, you're awake," Sniper gripped at Scout's shoulder as if to check he was really all-together. "I ain't, I don' feel like I can even move." Sniper nodded reassuringly. "Doc sedated ya so you wouldn't. S'alright." "What happened, where am I?" The door creaked open and Medic, having heard the two, came in and was happily ready to tell. "Ze medical ward, boy. You were injured quite badly!" He made it sound like he was gleeful or something about it. "Medical ward?" Scout puzzled. He'd been in the surgery and the waiting room, and even the Doctor's study. "Since when do we have one'a those. I've been injured loads of times an' I ain't never seen this room." "No, nobody on ze team has eva needed et before," Medic laughed, "You're quite ze exception. You were only shot in ze foot, I sought I vas going to be able to heal you where you passed out. I vas so surprised ven ze Medigun had no effect! More-so was I surprised ven I surgically removed a RED bullet from you!" He was clearly finding this all too amusing. "You sayin' someone on the team shot me in the foot?" Scout groaned. "What the hell, man?" "Vell, I vouldn't be too hard on Herr Sniper. You'll recover." Sniper seemed sheepish from the moment he was given away. Scout was stunned. That was one person he didn't expect to have accidentally shot him. Seeing as he had quite a distance between him and the other Scout (and had been in front of him) he just didn't see how Sniper, who shot into the middle of frenzied tussles all the time, could have missed. Heavy's scattering spray of custom bullets, sure. Sniper? He grimaced as much as the sedative would let him. "Well... as long as I'm back in action tomorrow, whateva." Medic shook his head as he turned off the Medigun and rolled up Scout's pantsleg to access the wound to stitch it closed. "I said recover, not heal in an instant! Ze Medigun... she treats BLU vounds. Not RED. You're sticking zis one out ze old-fashioned vay. Sough... you should be able to walk out of here tomorrow, since I can numb ze pain. But why bozzer? You can stay in ze bay and help me wiz some work..." "Er..." Medic broke the thread with which he had closed the wound, and took a brace from under the gurny and attached it to Scout's leg and foot, locking it in place. "If yer done, Doc, I'd like ta... well..." "Oh, ja ja. You two can have time, I need to finish logging zis incident after all. If it starts paining you, I am in ze next room." With that he took leave and the two remained, a little tense. Without the influence of the Medigun Scout's groggy stiffness was fading, and he hoisted himself up a bit to sit upright and look Sniper in the face. He needn't demand an explanation, it was pretty obvious what he wanted here. "Listen kiddo, sorry I popped ye in the foot there," Sniper apologized weakly. "I've had worse. If you'd been where I was from you'd be dead dingo meat," Scout waved off, "But what the hell was you thinkin', man?!" "Look, did you see what happened to that other Scout? I did. Seen it happen plenty of times. Them toys these Engineers produce, they're mighty powerful. I didn't feel like seeing you get bloodied up by that contraption!" It hit Scout, and he felt suddenly like it was super-obvious. "You... you saved my neck again." Sniper shrugged. "Not really... you got lucky. If that Scout hadn't tripped up you would have been in trouble still anyway. I... didn't have time to think." "You saved my neck. Again," Scout repeated. He couldn't figure out how else to say thank you but acknowledge it out loud. Or... say thank you. He grabbed Sniper's limp hand, pulled him closer and placed his other hand on top. "I... I appreciate it. Even if you landed me in hospital." Sniper stared, but placed his other hand over Scout's second. His fingers rubbed the knuckles comfortingly in a sincere gesture of caring. Scout gulped. He looked away from Sniper's eyes, they were too intense to look at. His gaze rounded past the floor, and landed back around to their enclosed hands. He was again reminded of how big they were on his, and that Sniper's height meant he was looming and looking down on him laying back like this. It was like his whole being was shut in like his hand, surrounded at all sides by the big, looming person. He flicked his eyes back up to Sniper's an smiled timidly, breaking their hands apart to free himself. But the Sniper had none of it, grabbing back a hand and squeezing it. "Scout, I can't-- I'm glad--" he muttered breathlessly. There was a knock on the door. Jolted out of the moment, Sniper adjusted his tone to call in whoever it was with no indication of what had just been running through his mind than a slight hesitance on the first word. Two men entered, an Engineer and a Pyrotechnic with some "get well soon" beer. The Engineer glimpsed their hands fall apart. "We interruptin'? Me and Pyro came by to give our boy here a pick-me-up." "I think you kind of are, yeah," Scout thought bitterly. He didn't know what he was hoping Sniper was going to say, but he wanted to hear it.
I'm not normally a fan of this pairing, but you've played them up very well. Looking forward to more!
>>3 anon again. A new chapter so soon? You spoil us! And another very nice chapter at that! I’m not entirely convinced by your explanation that the Medigun can only heal damage inflicted by BLU (how would it know the difference with the bullet removed?) but I’m willing to ignore it for the sake of the lovely, lovely emotional tension in the last part! That was just beautifully described. I love how Scout’s hesitant interest in Sniper is (obviously to the reader) returned; it feels to me like Sniper is acknowledging his growing affection for Scout and would like to react on it, but is still holding back—being unsure of how to make his interest known or fearing Scout’s reaction, perhaps? It doesn’t feel like pure physical attraction either; it seems there is an emotional involvement as well, which is rare with this pairing and very enjoyable. I’m really looking forward to the next part! You have me totally hooked now.
>>15 I'm spoiling -me-. I DO have other things to do, but I'm looking at finishing the next chapter already now. I admit, I thought I could 'get away with' the medigun thing. It's a mysterious piece of technology and nobody knows for sure how it works. I'm actually bending quite a few things considering I've ignored friendly fire barriers and respawning altogether. Basically my theory is that though friendly fire is impossible, if it were maybe the Medigun wouldn't work due to some difference in technology or something. In this story I don't want to explain the ins and outs of a new system of battle-- this is a budding romance story. I don't want to talk about cloning or science-fiction because it isn't part of the story. BLU is a faceless enemy. So I had no qualls about implicating the death of the BLU Scout... that's my candid explanation of why RED won't suffer in Scout's absence. Basically... it was a tool I used out of convenience. It's an idea I've had for a while and might expand on in a different story in a more convincing and scientific way, but here it's completely me cheating myself some convenience. I will willingly accept complaint. And then take way too much time to write it off when I could be finishing part 5, haha. If I review this into a 'complete version', I'll definitely try and re-think the medical mumbo-jumbo. And everything else you've had for me so far. :) I really like how invested you seem.
A/N: Obviously I'm enjoying myself too much, so I'm churning out a third chapter in one day. I'm too eager, I'm sorry for all the things I'm supposed to be doing... I also have been working on a little art for the story so expect that. Thank you all for reading and giving feedback! Seriously, it means a lot to me and makes writing all the more pleasurable. I'm glad I posted here. Edit: Those formatting errors. This is twice now. But here it is fixed. Chapter Five: Learning Things "Ye wanna what now?" Sniper rolled his eyes to say 'as if' to the request. He had been spending all his free time in the ward. It was funny how their positions had switched like this, with Sniper being the visitor. He had been bringing meals-- ones he had specifically asked Pyro to make, that Scout had mentioned liking or reminisced to him about his mother cooking, instead of the barbecued assortment of meats they ate most days. He'd also been tending to Scout's entertainment with chatting, chess, and the communal film-reel projector. They had rifftraxed Charlie Chaplin's complete works over the past three days. But Scout had become quickly restless. He wasn't designed as a human to be cooped up in a single place like this for too long. Anyone who cared saw that coming just from hearing the news Scout was laid out. The Doctor had told him he would get him able to leave after a single day, and while that was technically true, it wasn't desirable to allow the finicky boy to get into a position of power over his own recovery. The result of that was also predictable, and would end in even more rest time. Scout had complained, but he was mature enough to get over it and do what he had to. Sniper had eased the process, and soon he would be able to go out on crutches without everyone worrying too much. And as that was so, he was ready to discuss with Sniper something he'd resolved during his downtime. So he'd asked him to give him sniping lessons. "I wanna Snipe! An' I want you to teach me. I mean, I ain't got no-one else who could or nothin', but..." Sniper shook his head. "Sniping is a big responsibility. You have to learn to be polite, efficient, accurate... and professional." Scout rolled his own eyes. There was that word again. "I ain't sayin' I wanna make my bread with it, I'm just real curious is all. 'Sides... I want somethin' to do while I'm stuck alone during missions with my poor poor foot you shot t'hell." There it was, his bargaining chip. Sniper couldn't believe he was using that in such a way when he'd apparently been grateful for it, it having saved his life and all. But he considered it. Actually, he'd made a theory about Scout and his aim arbitrarily after seeing what he did to the RED's window with that baseball. Really, he knew exactly how he would go about teaching him... he supposed it wouldn't be as dangerous the way he saw it, either. "I'll think about it," he replied non-commitally. But he'd already complied to it in his head. He wasn't reluctant towards the idea of and excuse to spend more time together. Scout was pleased, sure if he was getting a "maybe" he could twist it into a "yes". "Tell you what," Sniper smiled at the boy's reaction, "We can give it a test-run soon as you're discharged tomorra. See if you can handle the ropes." -- The Medic offered a wheelchair but Scout was against hauling such a bulky thing around with him. He wanted to be light and on his feet, if not as much so as normal. The crutch was something the Engineer had cobbled together in lieu of their lack of normal medical supplies... Scout's impairment was uncovering quite a few abnormalities in their treatment of the sick, all of them written off with the sentiment that his case was pretty special around the base and in general they would never need proper beds or crutches or drugs. They had magic voodoo healing guns. So he knocked on the door of the camper parked inside the garage, spliced between a tank and a miniature shuttle. "S'open, mate." Scout found that the door did indeed click open and when he entered he was surprised to see a bare back facing him. It was obvious Sniper was dressing, as his shirt was in his hands with a sleeve just barely pulled over one hand. "Oh, I thought you were Truckie," he rushed a bit to finish clothing himself, flustered even while simply pulling his vest on though it didn't cover anything extra. Scout looked away until he was done, though there was a nagging in his head."Why does it matter if I look? ...But why would I want to anyway if it doesn't?" "Why... what where you thinkin', Hard-hat was gonna come in while you were dressin'?" "About that much, 'cause I have a delivery to make," said Engineer, who Scout found to be hovering behind him with a brown paper package. Sniper ducked out and shut his van's door. "Just in time, mate. The mongrel was a mite early." "I'd be outta bed A.S.A.P. if I were him, too." He smiled and tossed the paper package, giving a nod. "Y'all be safe, now. You could take an eye out with that thing." He left them, and Scout stared at the mysterious package. Noticing, Sniper walked towards the garage door as he tore the packaging off. Seeing his back as he followed, Scout noticed the man wasn't toting his sniper rifle as he should have been for sniping practice. Both in the package and on Sniper's back were bows. "What's with these?" he remarked. "They're for the lesson, obviously." "Whaaaaaa," Scout jeered, "I asked to learn to snipe! This is a bit different than that, don't you think?" "Sure is. These here are hunting bows. I normally use mine to catch rabbits and smaller game, though I've taken a few shots at people as well. They're a lot different in how you handle them." He reached an open area-- the first capture point closest to their base, desolate seeing as it was downtime and barriers were up-- where he'd evidently set up paper targets on one of the larger expanses of wood wall. Wasting no time, he pulled an arrow from his quiver and drew it back. He told Scout to watch and when he released the arrow it embedded itself dead in the centre of a target. "Now, do ye see the difference between using this and a rifle?" "Yeah, it's slow as shit." "That's one thing. It's also harder to use long-range because the target sees it comin', and ye can't attach the same kinds of sights. The ammo won't kill anyone in one go unless you get them perfectly in a vital part, either. But I'm gonna teach you to use this instead of a rifle." "It sounds shitty," Scout says, making it clear he's sour to the idea. The way he described it, the bow is inferior all around. "But," Sniper tugs the arrow back out of the wall and draws it again, standing back much further and tightening the string less this time around. He releases and it takes an obtuse arc up and back down, and straight into the bullseye again. "It flies in an arc, unlike my rifle." "Not following." "It's more like your baseball, short-stop. I figure you'll be a better aim if you're already used to how a slower projectile goes." That made sense to Scout. He didn't like it that much but he couldn't come up with a reason to insist on the rifle... especially since it was obvious Sniper had asked Engineer to make him a bow already... "Yeah, awright. I'll give it a go." Sniper smiled and tossed Scout the bow he'd been using and gestured towards the arrow in the wall. Scout yanked it out and took line back away from it even further than Sniper had stood. He held it up with his arm straight out and tried to hook the end of the arrow shaft to the wire and found it wasn't very comfortable. "What... how do I...?" "You've got it upside-down." Scout twirled the bow the other way up. He didn't see how he was supposed to know the thing had an up-side and a down-side. "The grip is a little further up. The clicker's gone off, don't pull it back any further. Er, the tiller is--" Scout got impatient. "Just come show me or something, jeez, you sound like I should know!" Sniper hesitated, but came over and took the bow. "Draw it like this..." He showed by performing, and then gave the instrument back. Scout tried to mimic, but it was still in bad form. Sniper gave in and took place behind the shorter, taking his hands and sliding them into the right places. Scout was freezing up a bit from the contact but trying to keep it cool, letting Sniper push down and relax the crook of his elbow and finger massage his shoulders to get him to relax them, too. It was almost like he was putty, literally being shaped. He could feel the hair exposed under his hat being ruffled by the breaths coming from above his head, and he could hear fabric rubbing other fabric when Sniper reached for his furthest hand and left no room for gaps between them. "Damn it, I can't keep thinking about these things every time we get too few inches apart. What is wrong with me?" he asked himself. Of course... he knew deep in his rapidly-beating heart what was wrong. It surprised him when the arrow was let fly and the thunk of splintering wood shattered his near-daydream. Changing focus rapidly, he realized he had, all on unconscious instinct, managed to hit right in the second-to-centre ring of the paper. "Oh, that was a beauty for a first try!" Scout gaped. Okay, maybe he was happier with the bow instead of some old rifle. -- That first day passed quickly, and so did Scout's lonesome practice session during the mission of the next day. (He didn't stay out on their makeshift pitch, since obviously it was needed, and got railed on later by Soldier for making many holes in the mess hall's far wall.) The second practice was uneventful, full of their normal banter but of the mission Scout had missed. At the end, Sniper made a suggestion. Paper targets were obviously no big deal, so why not go for moving ones? He wanted to go on a sort of wildlife hunting trip for the day on their off-Saturday, and Scout thought it was a great idea. Not just because it would be fun to hunt game, (something not experienced having come from the city) or even just being able to spend an ungodly amount more time alone with Sniper. He was realizing as of late he wasn't snatching up opportunities to be together just because he enjoyed their companionship in a normal manner. It was hard to admit to himself, and he didn't plan on or see himself admitting it to anyone else any time soon, but he couldn't completely ignore that maybe, just maybe, he didn't just want to learn to use a bow with his friend. He felt somewhat sickened when he sighed like a despondent schoolgirl. Of course he hated himself a little, but he was mostly just worried how he was going to handle himself. How he would handle it if anyone noticed his feelings. Having feelings for guys was something he wasn't used to guys doing. There was a knock on the door to his quarters, which he called out to say it was alright to enter. He almost expected Demoman to fall through the door drunk like a skunk, but it wasn't terribly surprising when Engineer was the one to come in. "Heya boy'o, came to check up on ya," he turned a bare chair away form the corner and took it to where Scout leaned back on his bed when he was contemplating. It was kind of a warning sign he was here for something specific and probably serious when the Engie was taking a seat for it. "I heard you're goin' on a lil' trip with Down Under this week," he began without invite. "Should be mighty fun for ya." "Yeah, I guess. Never tried it before, you know, so," Scout dismissed with a shrug. He didn't want to make it look like the trip meant as much to him as it did. "You two've been real close past coupla' months. Soldier chewed you out for it pretty good, so everyone's been pretty aware after that. He visited every day with every spare second he had while your foot was out of commission... It's feelin' alright now, right?" he added casually to try and seem like it wasn't obvious where he was going with this. "It's fine..." Scout felt a little sick again. This was what he was worried about. "Should be perfect for the trip, but we're only goin' just outside the fences, y'know?" "Good, good..." he trailed off. "...So. What do you two do when y'ain't laid out? You know, up in those roosts of his." "We talk. About home, family, you know. Everything. Whateva comes to mind." "Just talk?" "Just talk," Scout scowled. "What else is there? I don' know what you're getting at anymore, man, jeez. You're obviously trying to ask something so what are you getting at?!" "I just..." Engie sighed. "I seen you, the way you react to him. You were redder'n a beet outside his van. I don' know what you were doin' in there before I got there, neither. Actually, I don't wanna know, so..." "I got there minutes before you!" he felt sick for real, now. "Don't get upset. You're a grown man, you make your own decisions. I always thought of you as a son, but I know my boundaries... I just wanna know's all. I'm concerned. Ain't just you who's being strange, Campground's always been a loner an' I never rightly thunk you two would... well..." Silence fell. Scout didn't know how to deny the claims implicated without acknowledging that he was catching onto them. He was sure he wouldn't be if there wasn't some type of underlying truth on his part. "I... we're just friendly. We don't do anything... strange. Nothing unusual." Engineer scratched his neck, his hard-hat covering whatever of his expression could show under his goggles. "If that's the case for you... y'sure he doesn't want to?" Scout was taken aback. "It's jus'... I seen the way he's been actin' too. If you're not thinkin' the way I thought you were, that's fine. But do be kindly to him if... if he ever... gets very attached. With these lessons and hunting trips and the way he's done let you in, bein' who he is and all... I just don't want no-one makin' hard feelin's." "I... yeah." Scout felt dumbed by Engie's "I guess. But I thought... think... he's not after anything more than what we have." Really, he hadn't even considered it. It wasn't normal to assume there was anything to sitting next to each-other or touching hands for practical reasons. To derive something out of that would be past presumptive. But then Scout remembered the medical ward, and the words Sniper had nearly said. The way they had touched then was different. There had been something to that. Engie saw the contemplation all over Scout's face, and figured he had pried enough and said what he'd had to say. "If it was nothin' it was nothin'. I'll make sure the rest of the team doesn't find it curious. Two guys're allowed to have fun together, after all." He ruffled Scout's hat-shaped hair and smiled, and Scout perked up and smiled back when he batted the gloved hand away. Engie loved playing the papa with him and he didn't mind either... being dad-less himself. Engie left and Scout thunked his head against the wall, sighing as he had done before that uninvited guest. The number of conflicting emotions had grown threefold and he was tired for it, and could find no better solace to go to sleep still in his day-clothes with the light on.
Loved it, and the papa-Engineer that was kind of sweet. I've been lurking for a while, and I can only say I love where this is going so far~
A/N: This is shorter and feels kinda weak. I'm sorry. But I wanted to divide this from the next part. I should have grouped it with parts from the massive last chapter. Also, I clearly do not give a fudge about writing on any schedule but my own. Four chapters in one waking day? I DO WHAT I WANT. I have the next two days off, too, so I'll probably end up finishing no problemo. Chapter Six: Campground Their hunt had been satisfying in that both felt a great sense of achievement at the end of the day between Scout's display of growing expertise and their haul of meat. So they decided, heck, keep the ball rolling. They were there, they had a camping van, and they had all the tools they needed lying around to cook some rabbit burgers. The cover of night deterred them little as they conversed about nothings and laughed and even sang a little. But as things got drowsier, they calmed down and talked about more sombre topics. "Eh, my dad never liked me that much. Never thought they were supposed to, really. I try to impress him, but... well." "Huh. I wouldn't know." It struck Sniper he'd heard much about Scout's mom and never about a father. He'd figured he was just a mama's boy, but it clicked together. "It don't bother me though," Scout amended before the other could open his mouth to empathize, "I had Mom and, well, I got Hardhat right now. He's a pretty good role model, I guess." "Oh, I'm not?" Sniper teased. That was a repulsive thought to the Scout all things considered. "Nooooo... not one bit." Sniper clicked his tongue, not annoyed but sarcastically amused. "And after I save your bum twice! I would think you would think of me as at least as protective as Truckie by now." "It's... different." He sighed. "I think I'll have a coniption if I have to save you again." Scout smiled. "I should throw myself in front of bullets all the time to see if that can really happen." Sniper grimaced. "Please spare me." "Why do you seem to save me all the time?" Scout pondered out loud, frowning, "I mean, you never shot anyone else on our team to keep them away from a sentry. Surely you musta seen that happen before, Engies love stickin' those things 'round corners. People drop in on 'em without suspectin' all the time. So why am I the first you friggin' shot in the foot?" Sniper hesitated. "I just didn't want to see you mangled up, I guess." "Pfft! That sounds stupid, we see people get mangled every day." "No, really." He made the air serious when he said this in a spoken whisper. He licked his lips as if he wanted to say something, and then leaned his face into his palm resting on his elbow sitting on his knee and stared into their campfire. It reminded Scout strikingly of the medical ward, especially when his finger so slightly rubbed his lower lip. It was like some kind of tell. Sniper broke the span of quietness and continued in a tone that made every word sound like he was killing himself to say it. "I didn't know why but... I just couldn't handle the idea of watching you get harmed that badly." He shrugged like it wasn't a biggie, even though it clearly was to him. "Man, it happens all the time," Scout re-iterated. But he wanted this to continue. He was curious what about it made Sniper so finicky. "I didn't have time to think about it!" Frustration set into his voice, "I saw the sentry, I saw you being pursued, it was all unfolding... I barely had time to aim... and..." He stopped looking into their camp-fire and looked Scout definitively in the eye, as if decided he was going to tell it like it was. "I don't know if you can understand what I went through while you were unconscious. But I was worried sick that I would lose you." Scout mulled it through but the answer was no... he couldn't. Dying was incredibly unpleasant and there was a lot of emotional strain that came with dying too many times and coming out of the re-spawn with the memory. But at the end of the day, it happened. They moved on. He was grateful for being kept alive in any other capacity, but for them it wasn't permanent. Everyone avoided it as much as possible, yes, but it happened to them. "I would have been fine eventually," Scout shook his head, "You must have over-reacted just 'cause you weren't thinkin' straight in the heat of the moment." Sniper sighed. "Ye don't get it. I didn't much expect ye to."
now KIIIIISSSSSSSS!
This fandom has pretty much ruined most fluffy fics for me - spoiling me with very IC writing, psychological depth and beautifully fucked up plot twists. Now when I read a 'plain' romance story, it usually seems a bit...lame. Not this one though - it's really sweet and heartwarming, but without getting mushy, OOC or way too 'romance novel-y'. Oh, and Sniper's personal-space-invading shooting lessons? That's seriously hot. Also you seem like a really nice person and the frequency with which you post new chapters is pretty amazing. It always makes a fic even better when the author obviously enjoys writing it as much as I enjoy reading it. So, in conclusion: you're awesome, this story is awesome and I hope you post more soon. (I'd put a winking smiley here if it wasn't frowned upon)
>>21 Shh, maybe next time. >>22 Don't read this if pointing out my own flaws may ruin the story for you. I've always been a fan of trying to make no concessions for OOC. I thought because of how garbled and sort of "underdeveloped" TF2's cast is, it would be easy to keep them in the purview of their personal philosophies. But it's actually not. I'm worried I'm not putting them on as strong as I want to. In my old fics, one of my main quirks was keeping the reader constantly aware of who they were reading about and never let it be a generic story with the characters placed into generic roles. That's why instead of writing, say, a flimsy "notice-you-across-the-hall" romance, I looked at the qualities Sniper and Scout had in common and built off that. The plot itself, I am confident in. However, I'm feeling pretty weak about the writing itself right now because (1) I refer to them by name a LOT instead of using proper writingyness and (2) There is way more speech than I would normally hope for. Stories are awesome because they are able to convey without dialogue. That said... every bit of dialogue I've written had felt extremely necessary. I think both these things are failing because it's been a while since I've done some serious writing, and I've fallen out of the mindset. And now I'm done gushing my quiet angst and will proceed to write the next part. This wasn't actually just directed at you, I'm kind of a sucker for talking about process. BUT YEAH, I am totally enjoying the balls out of writing this. You are also awesome for reading and making me feel pumped up about writing, and I hope you can read more soon. (winking smiley placeholder).
A/N: I couldn't get on the site and I was so very antsy about posting this chapter. Shout out to Cas, who was very helpful during said downtime! And like I said I would, I now have a sort of cover-art for the story. I put the link at the bottom because I feel like it's almost kind of spoilery! And, silly note, my spellcheck tells me corrections for "CrazedGunman" are "unmannered", "unmanagable", and "craziness"... I suppose they're all pretty legit. Chapter Seven: Breaking Point They slept in the same general 'bed'. By bed Sniper meant the somewhat amiable rug of the floor of his camper, but the controlled fire outside was at least keeping things pretty toasty even from that far away. They were using the same blanket, but it and the floor were large enough to leave them no reason to be close. There was room. But somehow they had naturally cozied up without either complaining or even pointing it out... they weren't touching anything but when their feet bumped after all. And it seemed pretty excusable, as they were both staring up through the glass panel in the roof at the stars in all their tiny glory. Sniper, convinced his companion distracted, looked over inconspicuously. The gap was so small it was painful. He admired the younger, arms resting folded behind his head and eyes not quite open all the way. So contemplative, so blissfully relaxed. He was rarely sedated like this, but Sniper supposed sometimes everyone got caught up in nature's majesty. It wasn't the first time he'd looked at him, but it was the first time he'd noticed how he was paler compared to himself or to the other mercenaries-- well, probably not the Doctor-- and especially so under moonlight. Moonlight tended to do that, though. He started thinking more about other features. His face was rounder, and clean of hair. His arms were, of course, spangly and his chest flat. He was kind of a twink. That worked for him. It was unbearable how intimate they were like this. "If we were together," Sniper thought, [/i]"This would have been a really good date. And I'd be ravishing him right now like mad if he let me. It feels like such a wasted opportunity." Scout mumbled, and Sniper made a short 'hmm?' "If I had a girlfriend, this would be, like, such a fuckin' good date. Feels like I'm totally wasting it," he laughed. Sniper nervously laughed back because of how creepily that echoed his thoughts. "Well sorry for not being a girl, or your date." "Ha, ha. It's... it's okay. I forgive ya." Scout glanced and saw Sniper shift onto his side and prop his elbow on his personal pillow. He was looking down slightly from Scout's side. "You shouldn't. I mean, life is short. Time lost can't be made back up. You're young, but I'm not... If I were your shiela-- or, more like, your lover, I guess it'd have t'be," Sniper laughed, losing nerve fast trying to be ambiguous like this, "you'd regret it if I died." "That's really grim, dude." "'s true. An..." Sniper's breath stilled and his eyes flitted to Scout's mouth, thinking how much he wanted to do what he knew he wanted to do. He shifted, ignoring the warning bells in his brain telling him he was about to get a good smack, and placed his arm on Scout's other side, hanging over him and blocking out the rays of moonlight that had been hilighting Scout's face. Scout tensed and every inch of his skin got goosebumps from the oppressive sense of entrapment, similar to when Sniper had touched him the lessons before. "I don't want to waste moments." He leaned in carefully, making it obvious what his intention was. Scout didn't make any movements to push him away, and he couldn't tell if he was shell-shocked or willing or what. But there was hardly any going back any way. But internally the Scout himself was screaming for him to do it. He didn't want to advance himself, but he sure as heck wanted it to happen. If he didn't he would have clobbered him already, but he did... surely Sniper could read his mind, he assumed. They kissed. It was light, their lips touched very tenderly and their eyes closed on impact simultaneously. There wasn't any brutality to it, or fervour, but there was passion. There was emotion. Confusion, greatly, but also pure, warm affection. Scout's heart was running faster than he ever dreamed doing with his feet when they, after only a couple excruciating moments, parted. Sniper was looking at him like he'd never seen anything more beautiful, and Scout didn't have room not to see it with him resting his forehead affectionately on his. "I... can't believe that just happened," he uttered in after-shock. "That was my first kiss." He regretted admitting that in the rush of the moment, but it was hardly the biggest damage done. Sniper bit his bottom lip and quickly averted his eyes, withdrawing a bit instinctively. "No it wasn't. I, er... I slipped ye one while you were asleep. At the hospital." Then was the time to admit that if there ever would be. It was to Scout's surprise, though he looked back on the other moments moments Sniper had had a fixation with his own mouth and it made sense. Right after he'd woken up, he'd been covering his mouth like he'd done something wrong, but Scout had assumed that had been to do with shooting him... He never thought... They were quiet for a moment, but Sniper withdraw his arm to his own side. "When I told ye I didn't like seein' ye injured I meant it. I was in a lot of worry and I didn't really mean to do it to ye... I mean, I did, but I know it was wrong of me." He sighed. "But... what do y'think?" He smiled weakly, hopefully. "It's..." Scout hesitated. Every fiber of his heart wanted to yell 'take me now' or something stupid like that, but he was still conflicted. He strained out his words. "I... I dunno. What will people think? Like, my mom and the team and... I never had a girl let along a guy! I don't know what to do with ya! I don't even know how to handle myself, if we were like that... I... I like our friendship, but..." "But I'm intimidated," he cursed bitterly inside. He was really hating himself and already regretting this. Sniper didn't like how he felt this was leaning on do not want. He cared, genuinely. Too much so that even though he ached to do so, he sighed. "Forget about it. I was going way over my head. If you don't hate me too much, let's just be what we were twenty minutes ago." He smiled but it was empty. "...I don't hate you..." he said softly. Too softly. Sniper rolled over facing away from him and they were done, just like that. They didn't talk again that night or any on the way back. Scout couldn't stomach the thought so he pretended to sleep deeply the whole ride. The day after they went back to work as normal, with the thankful excuse of Soldier railing into Scout again keeping them apart. Scout would go to the roost again in a couple days and they would act normal, he was sure. Not that either was happy about it. -- It was a co-incidence Scout went to see Engineer when Sniper was already there. Chance had it they both went there for condolence at all. But it was all Scout's desperate idiocy that had him listening at the door. "--was stupid, Truckie." "Don't be so hard on yourself, he never said no y'know. Before you came to me I got thefeelin' you two were already seein' each-other anyhow! Obviously there's something to it if I was that badly mistaken." "Didn't say yes neither. I wanna push it, you know? I wanna see if there's any extent it'd take to get him to be mine. But I don't know how far is forcin' it." "Boy would never do something like that if he didn't wan'ta." "Maybe. But he's young. Young people do stupid things." "An' it's older folk like me who gotta look out for 'em. Not you. You're only, what, 36?" "34." "Shucks, he's 24 himself. You ain't that much diff'nt t'him, take it from a 42-year old mother hubbard like yours truly." "Heh, you're not planning to retire yet, ye ol' geezer?" "You know I got more left in me before my back gives out." "How's the wife, anyway? Y'said she'd been feelin' the arthritis kicking in." "Oh you know her, she over-reacts. She send me a scarf for when the winter really kicks in so she can't be too bad off..." Scout veered away from the door, his worried lifted somewhat. He was thinking he might have broken his chances, and was glad to know he was still open for business. It still left him in the conundrums he was already in, but... he had time, he supposed. -- Scout eventually remembered the training he had done between all the bits of sexual tension he'd been absorbed in, and had done something everyone else thought was pretty peculiar. He took his recurve bow into battle, instead of a scattergun. They weren't too bothered since it would hardly be a detriment to their team (they'd managed without him through his recovery) so why not? If he sucked at it they'd make him take his gun back later. Let him do what he wants as long as he's asset to team. And he wasn't shabby with it. He was moving at his usual speed and then slowing to get in a shot, then running elsewhere and getting a shot. Sometimes he would manage to get them in the head, often just the body, but it was effective. Impressive, really. His aim on the go wasn't as good as Sniper but he wasn't as easy to pick off because of his speed. He dominated one... two... three... four opponents. He was feeling pretty good about himself. It struck him as a pretty good excuse to talk to Sniper again when he was ready-- tell him excitedly all about his achievement and detail every shot in detail over the course of an hour or more. Chuffed about the idea, he looked up at where he'd seen Sniper take up camp and sure enough he was there, just visible through the window. He also appeared to be watching Scout through his rifle's scope. Scout smiled and waved with a silly, triumphant grin. Sniper, a little exasperated at the lack of attention he was paying to the mission but happy at the gesture, smiled and waved back. He took up scope and looked away, needing to quickly get back to the action himself. Scout sighed, but happily. Yeah, things were definitely okay right now. He was about to get on the ball and own some people but the second he looked away, he thought he saw something and snapped his head back. There was a distortion in the wall or air up there. It was warped. And then it was translucent blue. And then there was a form on it's own taking place of the distortion. He gasped. It was the BLU Spy. And he was clicking out his knife and advancing on a perfectly unsuspecting Sniper. "He's right behind you!" he yelled inside, but there was no way of Sniper hearing him if he shouted it out over the gunfire and distance. It was a split-second-counts situation and he had no way to get the Sniper's attention back to him. He felt the weight at his side, the bow he'd by chance chose to bring with him on this day. He had it in this very moment. It was like he was meant to do it. Without hesitation or a moment to spare, he lifted it, drew the bow... aiming was the longest thing he gave time for, he couldn't afford to miss... and let fly. It was the longest moment of his life between letting it go and watching it soar across the gap between him and them. But it penetrated the Spy right through the head and his entire body flung back, stapled to the wall. Sniper could be seen starting and turning around in a flash, fumbling the Kukiri Scout knew was just below the sill by him like usual. But the job was already done for him, which clearly surprised him even more. With only one obvious explanation Sniper looked back to were Scout had been and still was, mouth agape and his whole body stiffened into the way it had been after flinging the arrow, still pointing in the direction of the roost and his fingers clenched as if still gripping something with his fingers. The fright all hit him belatedly once he discovered he could breathe again. That was the stupidest thing he remembered himself doing. He had wanted to save his team-mate, his friend, and the person he loved and hadn't thought things out. Sniper would have some back. The damage wouldn't have been forever. Unless it was Scout who killed him. Just a few stray centimetres, or a shaking hand, or an ill-timed movement could have been really dangerous. He didn't think about these things or care in that moment he just didn't want to see Sniper hurt. All at once, he understood what Sniper had been getting at. Sniper disappeared from the window and Scout looked around him lamely. Most of the team were pre-occupied but Engie was squatting behind a rock and a sentry and had witnessed the whole thing, and the Pyro who had just Spy-checked saw him standing around like a dumbstruck idiot and probably wondered what his deal was. He grasped around inside and knew what he really wanted to do right now-- what he was compelled to do. What he felt he needed to. He kicked up dirt and sprinted towards the sniping roost. [ Cover art : http://sebrinalynn.deviantart.com/art/Shot-through-the-heart-283764101 ]
Glad I can be of help and useful for once! Also, glad that TF2chan is ack up so I can read this story. Love this chapter, broke my heart for Sniper though. But dang Scout is good a bow, huntsman for the win! The ending has my mind reeling... I'm excited! Can not wait for the next chapter!
Yes. Do, please continue, you're getting better all the time. And so is this story.
Is it terrible if I want to be able to equip the Huntsman on Scout now? It really seems like it fits him.
>>26 Don't feel sorry for him, things are about to look up. >>27 Thank you. I feel I'm getting back in the swing of writing, I'm glad it shows. >>28 No! I always thought it would be funny to swap different item sets with different class models. Like, imagine Engie with an axe or Spy charging down people with the minigun. Instant hilarity.
Chapter Nine: Don't forget to add a title, ditz. He was almost feverish when he arrived to find the object of his affections sitting with his back to the wall, looking a little stunned himself. He wasted no time, skidding his knees across the floor as he flung himself into the guy. Arms clamped around just below the shoulders pinning Sniper together and snapping his attention. "Oi, Soldier's going to give you a good verbal smacking if he figures out you came up," he laughed, putting a forearm awkwardly up to rub Scout's hunched back. "God, I'm sorry..." the younger groaned. "Y'saved me just then, there ain't a need..." "No, not that." Scout crawled up and draped his hands over Sniper's shoulders, edging him forward and the two of them closer to kiss. The other didn't quite respond for how unexpected it was, and suddenly the griping from seconds ago wasn't as innocuous. Scout relinquished him. "You're right, it'd be shitty. I could have just hurt you. I get what you were talking about, at the hospital, on our trip. Let's not waste time. You ain't as indestructible as I am." That last part Sniper found debatable but the sentiment was right and pushing a sense of mortality on Scout wasn't going to do anything positive for him right now. It made him happy enough Scout shared his feelings. He thumbed the boy's cheek affectionately. "An' ye ain't worried about nothing else? I mean, I am older'n ye, and male, and..." "Fuck what other people think!" Scout decided. "I ain't fuckin' around from now on. I know hardhat seems to be okay with it. If anyone got a problem they can say it to my face and get an ass-whoop." Scout cozied up and snaked his arms around Sniper's neck, because it felt good coming to terms with the situation. "Let's just do what we want. Y'know?" He pecked Sniper's lips again, his blood still pumping like crazy. "Like, anythin' we want. You get me?" The proximity had Sniper thinking along certain lines and he was pretty sure he was meant to get something certain from that. "Anythin'," he mimicked, his best suave on. "Maybe tonight we can do anythin'." Scout shook his head, smirking and thinking it was almost too innocent of the older man. He didn't consider himself lewd but he at least had something more immediate in mind. It seemed like a good idea while his adrenaline was still going and he was caught in the moment. "Why wait?" His leg shifted around Sniper's and he was soon straddling his leg, sitting on top of him. Warning bells went off in Sniper's head. He was pretty charged too but he wasn't so stupid. They were in the middle of a mission and screwing around was not compliant with his personal rules. Though the thought itself was incredibly tempting. "It wouldn't be very professional of either of us, though. I don't think..." Scout attacked his mouth this time, fierce about it. Sniper tried to break it but Scout ended up banging his head back against the wall to trap him. He moulded it into an open-mouthed encounter and, being terribly new at it, scraped their teeth and made it generally quite sloppy. They ran out of breath quickly and Scout was the first to catch up and speak. "Don't fuckin' think. It's always 'professional' this 'n' that with you. Do somethin' fun for once, Jesus. If I didn't come see you all the time we wouldn't even be here." "That is not an excuse to--" Scout silenced him by sitting up on his lap and stripping his shirt off. "'S good enough for me." "Scout... luv..." he said, sounding like he was trying to bargain. But it was just making the assault more vicious... though in the weirdest, most tender way. Scout was putting his hands under his jacket and trailing little kisses all over his cheek and, when courage was found for it, his neck. He placed his hands on the boy's back and felt how lean he was, and his lover's shoulders tensed and relaxed, hoping this was a sign he was giving in. Not quite. "This isn't the way I want this first time t'be." Scout halted and pulled away to face him, expression blank, questioning. Sniper continued, glad to have caught his attention. "Someone's going to notice a fifth of the team is absent. An' that Spy could come back. It's risky, and we're out in the cold, an'..." Scout looked away sheepishly. He had a point. He would be incredibly embarrassed to be caught in the act even if he didn't care what people thought. Decency held true. But he didn't want to just leave... he couldn't, he would be too distracted by the raging-freaking-boner he had just been developing. "We won't like... do nookie, then." His ears reddened a bit at having said 'nookie' instead of 'sex' because he was trying not to use the word and couldn't think of something less childish-sounding. "But fuck, man, I am so hot for you right now like you wouldn't believe. Sooo..." He unzipped Sniper's fly emphatically. "Just do this, we'll be quick and I'll go back down." At being handled a bit lower he was feeling rather desperate enough himself. This kid was a dangerous one. So he conceded and Scout continued, pulling away just enough clothes for comfortable access. Of course, the first thing he had to do was compare sizes. He pulled his own belt apart and Sniper got involved, thumbing the waistband over hips and thighs. Needing the space in their position Scout resolved he, at least, would remove his trousers and simply keep them close by. Yes, a chill did sneak through the cracked windows, but he was already warming up. He straddled Sniper again, this time pressing their erections together and groaning in relief. Just this much was way more than enough, different and new enough compared to jerking it. And side-by-side he could measure up... "Damn... he's probably just harder than me, but he looks kinda bigger right now." Sniper fisted both together and made strokes for the both of them. Though flustered he did have the sense to think it would speed things up if he was taking the wheel instead of this sissy virgin who was already sweating and letting himself squawk in his heat. It seemed the boy had almost forgotten him when he pressed his palms to the wall, hanging over and groaning and forgetting how nice it could be to be as close in other parts than his lower anatomy. Sniper grasped his upper arm and pulled them close again, and Scout embraced his neck and twined his fingers in the short length of hair he could. "Fuck, man, I don't want this to end," Scout moaned again, "But I think I'm about to." "S'alright, hurry up and finish," the other urged on, enjoying himself but still desperately eager to get them back on the job. Scout came with a sharp intake of breath and left sticky remains in the hand that had been working him over, which had cleverly caught it all instead of letting it get on the floor or, heavens forbid, their clothes. "Hah," Scout grinned, "Fuckin' A." Sniper smiled back and kissed the boy as if some congratulations were in order. Scout, who didn't want to waste time, picked up his clothes and pulled them back on at the same time as he hobbled up on his feet. Sniper was a little confused and figured it must have just been very chilly, except Scout huffed a "Ceeya tonight!" and bolted outside. Sniper was left there with his dick swollen up and ready to burst and... "Bloody... mongrel... are you serious?!" Scout poked his head around the corner, grinning. "Did you need somethin'?" Sniper choked. "Ha ha, very funny!" Scout thudded his knees back on the floor, bending over onto his hands around his poor prey. "You were the one in a hurry. Don't look at me like that, I'll make it up." That said, he eagerly returned attention to the erection that had offended his ego prior. It looked ready to explode. His stomach fluttered but he had already decided he wanted to try this now. He blindly went down on it, pressing his tongue along the shaft and moving his head down. His eyes however were up, looking into his partner's and looking for approval. It was... ehh. Sniper was getting more turned on by the enthusiasm than anything, but with a little help from his own hand further along it he pushed himself over the edge. Scout hacked and coughed into his hand and Sniper had to pull out a cloth for them both to discard each-other's semen. "Damn that's nasty! I never thought about how that shit tasted!" Sniper laughed. "You really are a virgin, huh? You sound like a bloody idiot at least." Scout slugged him, not too hard, and followed it up with another kiss. They were becoming something very pleasurable to do, like it was a free action. "I haven't gotten enough of you," he sighed. "Beat up some men, then we'll talk. Tonight, we can meet and..." Sniper looked thoughtful for a moment. "No, better. Stay in your room after the mission, I'll fetch you before the afternoon even starts." "I knew you wanted it ASAP, too." A shake of the head and a smile was his only response to that. "Get going."
I did not expect this part to be up tonight, this has made my evening. Keep up the good work.
Conclusion As eager as Scout had been, the assassin exraordinaire had come up with some extra plans for that evening. It wasn't something cheesy like a fancy meal or anything extravagant to mark the beginning of what they anticipated to be a pleasant relationship. Not in the way most people would think about it, anyway. While the boy greeted him with open arms and, had he the chance, legs, he'd brought paperwork of all things. "You didn't plan on staying here forever, right?" were the curious words that had transformed their meeting from a romp to an excited discussion. Indeed Scout hadn't been planning on living his whole life in this job. He'd planned on making enough money to get himself somewhere-- maybe higher eduction, maybe major league baseball, maybe something else, he didn't know. That was before finding himself a best friend and now lover. A couple months ago he could have gone anywhere in the world but now he had the feeling he didn't want to go anywhere the old man wasn't going to be. Of course, the only reason he was thinking about any of this now was because of the papers he'd been presented. It was a contract, to be specific. A request for an assassination. Scout had never seen such a thing. Was this how Sniper worked before the fortress? It was almost weird to think Sniper had been a legitimate hired killer before even though it was kind of an obvious fact. It was easy to forget the gravity of killing when all the deaths around him were temporary. "Come with me," was the simple proposal, "I'll teach you how to use a rifle proper. We'll work contracts in joint. And we won't be under threat every day no more-- nobody's shootin' at a hired gun until he kills someone, an' by the time they find where you were you're gone. 'S how I operated before the fortress." Scout tossed the papers on the lonesome chair that represented the furnishings of the room and threw himself at his new partner-in-everything. It was silly and sounded irresponsible to agree to the arraignment when their love seemed so young but they shared the same idea: why wait? There's so much to experience and so little of it was in their current lifestyle. Their kiss became hotter and their needs more feverish. This time Sniper laid Scout down intending to be sweet and tender, and Scout ruined it by getting indignant when it was insinuated he would be bottoming. They tussled and made out more and decided to leave that kind of gratification for another time (which more meant for whenever Sniper convinced Scout of the obviousness of how intercourse should go down between them). They relished just lying together post-coitus and talking about junk they did before taking their sexual tension over the edge and were both happy to find their relationship was basically the same but with more fuzzy feelings and touching. "Damn, my mom is never gonna believe me when I tell her I turned into a queer killer for hire." Sniper grimaced. "Don't. Tell her you found a lover and a profession. You're a professional."
Post-script! That last part looks short but it was the most well-written part of the whole shebang, haha. I definitely feel more competent than when I started and I feel I'm going to do better next fic 'round... which I already wrote two chapters of. I wasn't rushing to finish this or anything I just got the idea, wrote out the whole plot, and got excited and started writing! So I'll probably get over-excited about that and post it on not-adult /fanfic/ later today. I'll try and restrain myself after that, though, perhaps make a much much longer story and avoid being so... updatey. Do people get annoyed when something updates often? That seems like it shouldn't even be a thing but I worry. My after-thoughts on this story... I could have played it out better and I'm probably going to rewrite the whole thing from scratch in one go a couple weeks from now and post it on ff.net. I feel like the story suffered under some degree of poor writing, particularly in the beginning, and deserves better. Though, the way I think I'm going to re-write it, the whole thing will probably come out twice as long and that's terrible. Okay, I shouldn't make me talking about me after the fact longer than the concluding chapter. Thank you for reading and reviewing and enjoying and whatever else you did on this page.
"Whatever else you did on this page." Pfffft, ha ha, I wonder what ever you could mean by that? Well, most of the problems I saw with this were just typos and misspellings, it needs a solid whack with the proof-loofah. Mostly I would have liked a more drawn-out sex scene in the last chapter. There's a lot of build-up and then "then they had sex and it was good" Well, maybe that's just me being a horny pervert.
I agree with 34. Maybe you could do an epilouge with more sex? *hint hint*
Just starting chapter five, I can't help but notice this sentence: It was funny how their positions had switched like this, with Sniper being the visitor. Stuck out like a sore thumb to me. It doesn't need to be said! Go subtle. $0.02
D'awwwwww... It turned out well! Yes! This is rather fulfilling, as far as the fluffy fanficitons go. Do continue to make more fanfictions!
( >>34 I dunno! Maybe you ate brownies. Or maybe you juggled balls. I couldn't say. ) All votes and comments have been counted and weighed. Results, of course, are just me agreeing with everyone again. I seriously love that though. And I think I have a good idea for a "complimentary epilogue"... I'll be shifting the tone a bit for it but I think it'll be pretty fab.
A/N: I did my darnedest. I wrote it as if it could also be a standalone thing. It's a whopping 3.5K. I feel pretty good about the first 'act'. So enjoy your porn! Complimentary Epilogue When Scout got in the mood he was never deterred by anything. In this case there were a number of things that would stifle a normal person's drive. The creaking of a rope strained by very literal dead weight was enough to drag average people to regular nightmares. To them it was almost separate from this-- the job was one thing, the passion was another. When Scout started up he was gone and Sniper had been trained by him over their time together to separate the mind-sets, too. Even if they happened to be on the job still. Scout had been just draped over his shoulders, being affectionate and the both of them waiting for their target to appear on a stage far across the local water feature and opposite the hotel they were staying at. Scout had already played his part by taking down their alibi-- somebody the contract had asked to be blamed for the assassination in progress-- and now was simply the period of time in which they were to wait. The most boring part. The stretch of hours in which Scout-- or rather, "Nathan Mundy" was what he told people was his name nowadays, as his career involved much less scouting-- was most prone to finding his own entertainment. Watching the stars reflect off the gentle waves below was one thing, it was sentimental and pleasant and brought back memories that seemed much more distant than they were. But restlessness set in and he swung around Sniper's-- Richard's-- camping chair. His fingers itched the short hairs on he nape of the sniper's neck while he took his much-needed kiss. He was responded to with a smile in the mix of their oral embrace. Maybe when they first started this song and dance he would have faced resistance, but now it was their routine. Politeness and efficiency were merely upheld next to this. Eager after getting his obligatory seal of approval, he dropped to his knees and unwrapped Richard's Johnson. He didn't mind that he wasn't getting attention for himself as the sniper was continually poised at the window and waiting for the show across the river to progress to the point his target revealed himself. He was still young and hormones were exponential and giving head in the middle of a super-agent-type assassination was exciting. Like being in a movie. Only you had to watch every dedicated hour that went into actually stalking a victim. Except he was skipping over that part, in a way. He worked his fingers over the mostly lank appendage, paying special attention to where he knew Richard felt it best. His thumb continually rubbed the crevice where the balls met the rest, sliding upwards and then rounding for another sweep over and over. His other hand worked further from the base and coaxed it while a full erection developed. It always made him happy to see himself cause these reactions... made him feel like a real expert. A master catcher, you could say, if you liked using baseball analogies for homo-eroticism. (And he liked baseball analogies for everything.) "Any progress out here, slugger?" he asked, making sure his breath tingled the erection like a tiny warning sign. He got a grunt as a reply, which made him smile. That pretty much meant between the two 'jobs' his mind was so full he couldn't expend the concentration to say. Satisfied it wouldn't be too jarring, he slid his tongue along the appendage. The soft sensation of it got a breathy moan out of the sniper, who expended a few moments to close his eyes and shudder. Nathan went over every inch and path at least twice with his tongue, having to pause to replenish the grease a few times over. It was twitching very happily and all of it was rolling back into the junior of the two. He'd been feeling it for a while now but letting himself go, but he was starting to feel a degree of agony. His briefs were getting too tight and retaining all the heat pooling in his crotch. He thought very practically about the situation and finally took the sniper's junk into his mouth. He took a couple bobs of his head, not too fast and just feeling out the grip of it. He went hands free and, with that new-found freedom, rolled his jeans over his ass and let them fall about his crouching knees. Richard reacted to this and snuck a peek. It was a priceless view to waste. Despite growing older the ex-scout had never quite lost that special toned-squishyness. He was still just as muscular and lanky with skin that seemed to repel scarring or hairiness. And that ass. It was the kind you could-- and he would know-- use as a pillow, or fit into very nicely spooning, or grab onto during coitus very comfortably. He broke out of that line of thinking and tried to re-direct attention to his prioritized task. Normally difficult to do while being sucked off, yes, but for one as experienced as him he could do it without much effort. It was something that, with all his practice in the fortress, boiled down to point and shoot. He never missed. If he could shoot a man mid-air riding the explosion of a rocket, a poncy performer had no chance, blow-jobs or none. Nathan had almost put the job out of his mind, though. He was losing himself in it, sort of imagining he was being fucked in the mouth rather than being the one fucking with his mouth. It was sort of true for him, in their relationship. The sniper seemed idle but this was how he participated during these romps. He took in breath regularly without letting his meat go, merely slowing and inhaling through his nose. He didn't want to need to divert his hands from his own throbbing need. He was being softer with Richard, if pacing himself pretty fast, but his hands were tugging furiously on himself. He knew his way around it, after all. But even at that, something was a little amiss. He knew there was one more thing that would make the experience better for him, something he did all the time but still found insanely embarrassing because of how contrary it was to the way he had been raised. But he didn't need to fear-- he knew the sniper would enjoy it too. He let one hands dominate his stroking and reached over his back with the other. His fingers prodded around his rear, rubbing at the inside of his buttocks soothingly, working himself to relaxation. It was rote enough but there was still a proper way to go about it. He would get used to the touch from the outside before anything else. The sniper noticed this and, again, diverted his attention just slightly to watch. Nathan prodded at the muscles and loosened them, wriggling a finger inside. He made a noise that reverberated around the bushman's cock, and it was evident he liked it. Richard wasn't the only one who had been trained into something. Penetration in itself was a psychological turn-on. The ex-scout pushed in a second digit and he was soon mewling, dick still in his mouth, and pushing this way and that to widen the diameter of what his butt was willing to take. The junior felt fingers soothingly glide through his hair and he crowed. He was entirely ready to come and that was the sniper's way of telling him he was getting to the peak of intensity too. But accompanied by a grunt of pleasure was a tone of haste and his hand soon returned so all his attention was on his rifle. A crack sounded off moments before Nathan climaxed. If one of them had listened carefully they might have heard screams in the distant open-air theatre. But they were now single-mindedly occupied, free of their responsibility-- at least, ignoring clean-up. Richard let his sniper-rifle clang into the holster of its tripod and took his hands back through Nathan's hair. The junior kept rubbing himself through his orgasm but his other hand was now bracing on the sniper's knee as he furiously sucked him. There was finally some much more direct responses from him, hissing "God, yes, Nate," and hunching over as he kept stroking his hair. The sniper came and a little more of Nathan's maturing showed up as he swallowed down the load with throaty gulps. Another acquired taste he now found erotic just from the doing. He let the dying penis fall from his tongue and coughed a couple times in lieu of how deep he'd been in there. But then he immediately smiled and melted in a heap onto his own arms in the sniper's lap. The senior of them panted and told his beating heart to still it's rush. He still kept stroking the short matte of hair that had sweat clinging to the roots. They savoured the moment and the after taste for as long as they could, but things were going to get rushed if they didn't move more quickly. They reluctantly refastened their pants and started packing up in a hurry-- not just because they had to get away from the scene of the crime but because their passions weren't done yet. They collected their knick-knacks of weaponry and the tarp they had been sitting on (and had made new seminal stains on) and made sure they didn't leave any obvious evidence. The Australian police would find the place and think it was open-closed. The only thing they left was a cheap rifle-- provided by their contract for this purpose-- and a very nice memory. Richard slung the backpack and case for his equipment over his shoulder and the two of them circumvented the hotel for an entire ten minutes, passing through two elevators just to avoid cameras and make it look like they had come to their room from the outside. To play up their charade, when the ex-scout opened the door to their own room he grabbed him from behind and hoisted him over his shoulder too, making the shorter man squeal and kick around like it was a silly game. He kicked the door closed, threw him on their made bed, and tossed their things carefully on the floor. The charade was that they were lovers come to indulge in each-other, and it was true-- just a little less than the whole truth. Richard crawled over his beau, caressed his face and thumbed his cheeks. He planted a couple sweet kisses on his lips and the other glowed. "One day I'm actually going t'miss a target this way," he teased. "Ha ha. No you won't." They pecked at each-other more, affectionate and relaxed. "What if my eyes start to go?" "We'll retire before that. We have so much cash saved up it's ridiculous. Ma is livin' like we were never poor." They settled for brushing lips as they spoke. "'Sides... you're not that old. You're always talkin' like you have ass arthritis but you're only ten years older 'n' me. I thought you were like twice that before you told me, way you talk." "I'm getting on! Y'wouldn't know, you barely know what chest hair is." He slid his hand up his shirt as if he was properly examining just how true that was, but while licking his lip and easily giving away his intentions. The Bostonian licked it for him in turn before proceeding to tackle his mouth. He was still winding off that orgasm, so it wasn't like he was getting off on their proximity, but hell if it didn't feel good anyway. Richard seemed to be thinking similarly and after the pleasantly long kiss he leaned off and made circles in the air with his finger. Curious, Nathan rolled over. A weight pressed on him and he found he was being straddled from behind. His shirt was pulled up. When he opened his mouth to question, the words were clogged up by a moan. Hands kneaded his back and the pleasant tingling spread to his toes. They curled and stretched, flexing. He sighed. He was always treated way too well. They stayed that way and the sniper examined every muscle of the smooth back he admired. He started at the shoulders, innocent and merely pushing at the skin there. Lower on his back it was more taught and he pressed in and massaged the muscles against the bone of his spine. He didn't know much about a masseur's work but it seemed to be enjoyed anyway by both sides. When he made it down just below the small of the back his patient leaned on elbows and looked around smiling. "Hey, old man, wouldn't you rather be the one getting all relaxed 'n' shit? You know, being ass-arthritic and all." He shrugged. "If it's going to involve you touchin' me bum I guess I could give you a shot." Laughing, they swapped over and ex-Scout was having a go. He didn't quite press down and used his entire palms rather than fingers but it wasn't bad. "Li'l rougher, maybe." The palms put more pressure into it and yes, it did do him much more good. His cranky old muscles were pretty delighted by it. But quicker than he anticipated the two hands slid over his clothed buttocks. The junior leaned over, making it suddenly evident he was sporting a brand new semi-boner, and breathed harshly into his ear. "A little rougher sounds good." Obliging as ever, the sniper flipped their entire composition again and brought Nathan under him. As quick as that they were smooching it up again, but this time the "catcher"'s legs were spread and they were dry-humping through their clothes. One had his arms around the other's relatively petite back and the other was grabbing onto his neck while he ravaged his face. Belts were the first things to go, and then Nathan's pants. The sniper squeezed his buttocks a bit in the process of losing the briefs and the ex-scout took to flogging each piece as far as he could each time he got another off. Soon dry humping was bare-naked dry humping. Grabbing his waist again, Richard swung his lover around and had him sitting on his lap, himself sitting against the headboard. He was fondling ass again. This was how they eased into it. While he did that, the junior started working cock again with both hands. A finger poked at his entrance and he let it in. He squirmed happily and encouraged another. The second made him groan and they slowed it up a bit. "Dick..." he sighed in pleasure, "I love you." "You talkin' to me or my Johnny?" Ex-Scout rolled his eyes. "You know how to ruin the moment." The sniper chortled, giving some extra force in his stretching to make the other yelp. Still a child at heart. "I love ya too, ye wanker. So does my Johnny." A third finger was inserted and the boy whined. His erection was visibly twitching about all this despite receiving little attention. They kissed as the sniper tackled them back into their comfy, embrace-happy position. Lubricant was blindly fingered off the bedside table and smeared wherever it would be of assistance. Nathan lifted his own knees and spread his legs. His face was flush and he was obviously ready for a good pegging, but instead his partner kissed him while making sure that, while close, not an inch of their flesh quite touched besides a hand each that entwined fingers. "You look incredibly abusable right now." "Snipey, please, man--" "So vulnerable. So cute." "Dick--" "What do you want?" His eyes were half shut and his stomach was full of butterflies. It was a silly game he was playing but damn, it was kind of a turn-on. Nathan wouldn't take shit from anyone like this but in this position the desperation it caused was just so... "I want you, in me, now. Stop playin'." "But you're such a nice plaything." He groaned. "I want you to fuck the brains outta me already." Satisfied with his foreplay, the sniper took his own stiff in hand and pushed at the boy's entrance. He called out, mewled, groaned, and writhed at that ever-more-difficult-than-the-rest first push. It immediately got much better when it became a thrust and was followed up by another thrust. They developed into a comfortable rhythm, skipping sweet sicklyness and getting right into it. This was much more satisfying than fingering himself. The sniper was hard and alien. It made Scout feel dirty. Before meeting "Sniper" the very idea might have made his stomach churn in a much more repulsed way but now that deep-set idea that it was taboo was not a blockade but an enhancer. He hoped he never thought of it as normal, it was better this way. He had the man he was so infatuated with inside the most untouched, dirty part of him and that made the pleasure all the more intense, even when he already loved the feeling itself. The thrusting slowed and the erection slipped out of him and it was unbearable. He was about to ask what it was about, or beg a bit for it to come back, but he was soon being led somewhere else again. The sniper pressed his hands to the wall, pinned under his own, and this time took to facing his back. He thrust back into him and continued their lovemaking from behind. Under him Nathan's dick was swinging helplessly. He was unimaginably hard being that he hadn't been touched there yet. It was agonizing but when he tried to shift his hand to help himself, the hand pinning it wrapped around and kept it firm where it was. "Not yet, cowboy." He was a little outraged. Now that he didn't even have the choice to touch it it seemed like the painful throbbing had increased tenfold. He whined but was ignored, or if anything their pace got rougher. They were pounding into each-other like bruises were intended. It was great, it was intense, but it was making the junior's need just much worse. "I can't keep this... up... Goddamn..." But he seemed to be being forced to. He was turned around and his back was on the wall. His feet weren't even touching the mattress anymore. The sniper was literally using his own weight to fuck him as hard as humanly possible. He was hard and holding himself over the brink, too, but he was determined. He wanted to make it as agonizing as he could. He wanted to keep this moment going and drive his lover insane. And he did, he refused to let up even once and touch him down there. His hands were freed but clinging to the sniper's neck and balancing off his own weight. He didn't even want to think right now, his brain was drowning in the ecstasy. He let go in his head and resigned himself to being the 'plaything'. It was agony, yes. It was making him sore, yes. But despite that, it was good. It was intense. His heart was going a mile a minute, his body was flush and sweaty, and it was anything he could ever dream of coming out of their lovemaking. Finally the sniper gingerly touched his dick. It was electric and made him cry almost literally with tears and all. Every stroke was magical. He was coming fast, and the moaning made that so clear... that everything stopped completely. Richard hugged him and pressed their chests flush together, his embrace forcing Nathan to be still. The need to come didn't wane and whimpering was all the noise he could make for a while. When he could speak it was raspy, like his throat was raw. "Why... God, dick, please... fuck... I wanna come..." Affectionate shushes were made in reply. "Your heart is beating so hard I can feel it. You're such a sweetheart it makes me wanna torture y'like this." There was another squeaky groan and he smiled and felt like it was overdue to comply. He laid him down again and admired how beautiful he was. He appreciated every day he had found this... person. Special, special person. He started making up for that pause and thrust his cock, throbbing and hard and hot, in until they were both back to the brink. This time he grabbed his lover's erection and pumped it repeatedly. They both exerted themselves, exhausted over their activity so far, until they came while clinging onto one another. It was intense for both of them after holding back so long. Semen was glued between their skin but it was immaterial. They panted through the orgasms and clawed at their backs to keep close. When breath was decently caught up they went back at their kissing, still charged with lust despite climax. They both rolled to their sides while still tangled and pawing each-other. They eventually ran out of air again and settled for just intimate closeness. "That was terrible... Good-terrible..." Nathan breathed. "You handled it well." "Shh." They continued to peck at each-other and give each-other tired, happy looks until they fell asleep.
I died happy. WELL, my pervy side did. It was in all a good read and good story overall. Great job.