"'Ey, Scoot!"
Scout jumped as Demoman burst into his room, interrupting his weapon-cleaning session. He looked up from his position cross-legged on the bed.
"What!" he asked, slightly irritated at how the other had managed to give him such a shock. Demoman grinned inanely.
"I've got a joke for ye, laddie! Whot do ye get when ye cross a black man, a one-eyed monster and a Scotsman?"
Scout opted to stay silent, though he could already guess what was coming.
"A black Scottish Cyclops!" As the older man staggered over to the Scout's bed howling with laughter, the boy couldn't help but edge away a little
"Awww, ye're growin' up so fast, ye wee bairn… ye'll be a fine young lass…" Demoman 'observed', pinching the youth's cheek.
"I'm not a girl." Scout explained slowly and flatly. You always had to be very blunt and slow when Demo got himself wasted.
"Well ye sure look like one t' me!" the drunken Scot erupted into laughter once more before suddenly emptying his gut all over poor Scout's bed and promptly losing consciousness. Scout growled.
"EUGH, GROSS!" he exclaimed in fury. His face contorted into an expression of disgust and he pinched his nose as he grabbed his blanket and pillow and sprinted out of his room as fast as he could.
"Jeez…" Scout grumbled, kicking the door shut with his heel behind him. He groaned loudly upon realising that Spy was the only one on his team likely to be still awake and the only one he'd be willing to disturb if he wasn't. With a sigh of defeat, he shuffled over to the Frenchman's door and gave a hesitant knock.
"Come in."
Scout dragged in his stuff and booted the door shut. Spy, who was sat on the couch, raised an eyebrow.
"What is wrong wiz you, boy? You look rather dejected."
"Demoman puked all over my fuckin' room… I gotta bunk somewhere and uh… um…"
"I see." The shape shifter smiled "In zat case, make yourself comfortable."
Scout blinked
"…Really?" he asked, the disbelief evident in his voice. Spy nodded.
"But of course. Ce soir, ma chambre est votre chambre." He stated. Scout didn't have much of an idea as to what the French meant, but he got the idea and put his stuff down. Seconds later, an arm snaked its way round his bony hips and another around his neck.
"Of course, you will 'ave to repay me, cherie." Spy's hot breath ghosted against the boy's ear as the European nipped at it roughly.
"Wh-what the fuck does 'cherr-y' mean?" Scout asked weakly.
"Nothing, amour~" Spy purred and before Scout knew it, he had been whirled around and a pair of lips pressed firmly against his own. The teen tried to wiggle away but Spy was much stronger, and he'd cunningly chosen to wrap his arms around the Scout's so that he was completely unable to escape the taller man's iron hold. Spy's hand gradually travelled up the boy's back and pushed against the back of his head to coax him further into the kiss and allow the Frenchman to slide his tongue inside the other's mouth, his arm still remaining firmly clamped around Scout's skinny arms. After what seemed like forever, the older male finally loosened his grip enough for his captive to break the kiss. Scout was breathless and flushed as he pulled back. Spy smirked as he cupped the other's face, gently caressing his cheek.
"I knew you were a cockfag…" he breathed. The Spy's twisted smile widened.
"Alors, petit Scout…. Tu es trop beau." He murmured as he took a step backwards and sat himself down on the edge of his bed, pulling the little Bostonian into his lap, not letting go the entire time. Before Scout could protest, his lips were captured in yet another French kiss.