Title: Angel Eyes
Author: Daisy
Fandom: Team Fortress 2
Setting: RED Base
Pairing: Spy/Scout
Characters: Spy, Scout, Demoman, Medic, Pyro, Sniper, Mentions of whole team
Genre: Romance/Humor
Rating: T
Chapters: 1/1
Word Count: 621
Type of Work: One-Shot
Status: Complete
Warnings: Gay, Slash, Yaoi, Language, Voyeurism
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Summary No matter how frustrating the Scout was, the second he looked at Spy with those eyes, he could hardly stay mad.
AN: So… I needed some sweetness after what happened tonight, and I found this prompt somewhat accidentally. I figured it worked well for them, so I hope you guys enjoy! This will be my first TF2 story posted, I think.
Prompt: Person A of your OTP running around showing off their new engagement ring, while person B intended to keep it a secret.
Angel Eyes ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Badda boom, baby!" Brandishing his hand in the Scotsman's face, a grin splitting his head in half, the Scout hardly gave the man a chance to even see what he was bragging about this time. Sputtering slightly when something cold and solid, yet small, collided with his cheek, he nearly spewed whiskey all over the man across from him.
"The hell, Scout?" He questioned, finally managing to catch his breath as he forced that limp wrist out of his eye's direct path. When he finally got a good look at it, though, he blinked a few times before grinning like a madman; not unlike the man before him. "Well, well, well! We should have a drink to celebrate!"
"You alvays say zat." The Medic frowned over the rim of his coffee cup, sighing heavily as he folded the newspaper in his hand and set it aside, "Vhat es it?"
Sparkling in the dim lights was a pretty little golden ring with a large red diamond in the middle, surrounded by smaller red stones, likely to be rubies, resting proudly around the Scout's ring finger. The doctor rose a delicate brow, a soft frown on his lips.
"So you are goingk around und shovingk everyone?" He almost looked like he might bite, and the younger man was quick to yank his hands out of reach.
"Uh… Yeah?" Looking behind him, he smirked slightly as Pyro threw an armful of plushes on the table, only to proceed with lighting them on fire. "It's a cause for celebration, man!"
"Und who exactly are you engaged to?" The Medic questioned, crossing his arms and looking right pissed.
"Sp-" Those blue eyes suddenly widened as the Spy emerged from his disguise, and their actual medic ducked around the corner. "Well, uh, hey, big fella-"
"Do not try zis weez me right now, Scout. Jou know jou are een trouble." The Frenchman tucked his disguise back into his kit and sighed. "March, young man."
Hearing raucous laughter and 'oooooh's behind him, the young man threw a few unhappy faces around the room before his hands balled into fists and he sighed, stomping out like a disobedient child. With a bit of a vicious glare thrown at the cowing mercenaries that withered most of their joy, the Spy turned and stalked after the boy. Once they were out of the rest of the team's line of sight, the elder male pinned his runner to the wall and glared down at the back of his head.
"What did I tell jou about telling everyone?" He whispered, hot breath parting the short hairs at the nape of the blonde's neck, "I told jou to wait, deedn't I?"
"Y-yeah, but-"
"No. We do not 'yeah, but'. I told jou to do un leettle zing for me, and even zat es too 'ard?" Flipping the other over hard, intending to pin him and give him a thorough and brutal tongue lashing, everything went still when the Frenchman met those eyes. Throat suddenly dry and hands floating over the other's shoulders, that faux-innocent smile leeching all of the aggression out of him. Chuckling a little, he leaned in, gracing the other with a soft brush of lips. "I suppose two years ov hiding eet es well enough, right?"
"Took you two years to get him totally cunt-whipped, did it, Scoots?" Both pairs of shockingly blue eyes landed on the smirking Aussie leaning against the wall down the hallway a bit; coincidentally out of reach of either man. Almost as if on cue, Scout buried his 'precious, innocent' face in the Spy's chest, and the elder just shook his head, muttering a few French curses before dragging the runner down the hallway.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ AN:
