more fluff with pyro and scout ~ After that, Scout felt things had changed for the better. He still clung to his Pyro when they weren't fighting, using the cold as an excuse when anyone looked at him funny for it. And the fire starter, he… he seemed just as pleased about it as the runner was. But the more he thought about it, the more it started to make sense. Who, in the entirety of their team, had honestly tried to become friends with Pyro? They were a team, yes, and gave strategic orders as well as calls for spy checking, but they never tried to really get to know him. Not that Scout himself could-he was rarely able to decipher what came out of that gas mask, and the fire starter never took it off. Still… it felt like he knew him, even if it was only a gentle physical connection. A friend who asked no questions, but had arms opened compassionately. Well, that wasn't entirely true. Sometimes Pyro would talk; the sounds he made usually were muffled hums, purrs, and sighs. Never sharp, never loud, but.. soft, and comforting. Like how Engineer would talk to a new member of the team who was scared out of their wits from fighting, or traumatized from some sort of grotesque aftermath of a few stray stickies or rockets. A soothing voice, which lulled the Scout into his dreams when he was clinging to his Pyro. Although, there were times when the chemsuited RED wouldn't talk. It was eerie, though Scout tried to convince himself that his friend was sleeping. Even if he could tell that it wasn't true. Sometimes Pyro just didn't want to talk, Scout supposed. But there was something else there-something in the sighs in the bouts of silence, something in the way his friend would touch him, which made the runner feel a bit nervous. The same kind of nervous when he was lost, running out in a part of the battlefield he did not know. A good example would be a few days ago, when the Pyro had been more touchy than usual. Gloved hands had stroked down the Scout's back, running down his spine and then up again, at the back of his neck and then through the brunet's short hair, his headset and hat askew. Covered arms hung around the Scout's waist, rubber fingers often going in a circular pattern on his stomach or hip. And although said runner had somewhat protested, the fire starter did not relinquish his grip. Even if it was weird, having been pulled up and onto the Pyro's lap and held there, he stayed. The feeling of warm arms around him was lovely, even if there was that unease skirting at the end of his mind. He couldn't quite put his finger on what exactly that nervousness was about, but the fire starter had brushed those thoughts away with a hand that had begun stroking his cheek, moving upwards to run a thumb over the Scout's forehead. And with a few minutes of that comforting touch, the runner was asleep, dead to the world beyond his friend. Other instances of such affectionate behavior had occurred around that time, as well. Once Pyro had brought up Scout's dinner to his room, along with small morsels that he managed to sneak under his mask after he'd jerked it up somewhat. He stopped though when he noticed Scout was watching, and let him eat whatever had been left over. But this became a habit as well; Pyro bringing him his dinner. And sometimes when that was over, they would just stay together, side by side, simply enjoying the comfort of the other's body. So sweet, it was, seemingly highlighted by brief touches in places that made Scout's spine prickle. He loved the attention, though. Lapped it up like a lil' puppy, and Pyro seemed more than happy to give it. Didn't matter where anymore. Anytime, anywhere, and he would light up at the sight of his friend, who responded in kind with warm embraces. And Scout felt he was the happiest person in the world at those times, he really, really did. ~ "Mmm…" A murmur, as Scout slowly slipped from his sleep, starting to become conscious once again. It was warm. Very warm. And he-something down his back, something touching him not there, there of all places- He whined, shifting and pulling away from those hands, which persisted and kept touching places and it.. it.. "H…hey.." This time, blue eyes opened, and he could see that it wasn't hands that were on him, but gloves. Rubber-clad gloves, sliding down his spine and cupping his ass, squeezing and fondling as they pleased. Then he looked up, and it was Pyro, his friend, pushing that boundary that had been steadily growing. When wide blue eyes met with black glass, the flamer paused, hesitant for a few moments, but then started again, a low, sensual sound slipping up from under that mask. Scout's face felt hot, and he let out a squeak as hands pulled him onto Pyro's lap, fingers resting at his hips. Then one-oh god it was going down, went down the first fabric barrier, digits wrapping around the runner's dormant cock through his little tightie-whities. "Fff-PYRO! WhatthehellPyroohmanohmanohmanPyro—“ Mouth moving, stopping only when a thickly covered finger slid over his lips, shushing him like a naughty child. But he couldn't keep quiet, oh no, not with that thing in his pants, stroking and squeezing and just –God! It made him writhe and twist while Pyro's only free hand wrapped around Scout's waist, trying to keep him steady. Eventually he ended up turning Scout around so that he wasn't facing the firebug, and instead leaning against him while a hand reached around and started stroking Scout's now hard flesh, enticing a high moan and whimper. Scout didn't even know what he thought anymore-it felt so good, being touched like that. And even if it was Pyro-Hell, another guy-he couldn't make himself tell his friend to stop. Not enough willpower left; just the feeling of that rubber-clad hand starting to slide past his underwear. Scout’s hat lay forgotten as he clung into Pyro’s thighs, legs spread as the firestarter ran thickly covered fingers over the younger’s cock, thumb pausing to rub at the slit at the head, then moving down and lavishing attention to the rest of hard flesh. He felt the other’s head resting on his shoulder, murmuring things he couldn’t decipher, and vaguely the word ‘sweet’ came to mind, but Pyro was squeezing now, and Scout couldn’t help but moan, hips bucking upwards. Wasn’t there supposed to be a time where they slowly made their way to this point? It didn’t matter though-not with thrusts getting faster, and sweat starting to dribble down the runner’s forehead. “Fuck,“ Teeth gritted, Scout dug his fingers into his palms, rocking into Pyro’s hand in an erratic rhythm, whines and begs slipping through reddened lips now and then. So close-just a little more, just a little more and he’d—