It was time. How long had he wanted to do this? Longer than he could remember. Probably all the way back since he arrived here at the fort. So many days spent just thinking about doing it. But he had been too afraid. Afraid of what? Rejection. To not be understood. Or simply just scaring him away. It had really been an awful time, and it had been a sting of jealousy every time he'd just seen him talk with somebody.

But now… Now he wasn't talking with anybody at all. In fact, he was just sitting outside with a cigarette. Scout stared at him. From behind a wall, of course. If Sniper saw him, it would be awkward. He had to plan this throughoutly – for the sixth time this day – before he did anything.

Regret started to fill him while he was hiding. This was an awful idea, what was he thinking? There was no way Sniper would understand the way Scout's heart beat faster every time he just thought of him, or how his tongue didn't want to work when he heard his voice. That man was perfection, but even perfection can be uncomfortable.

All right. Now was the time. Scout readied himself to get out from his cover and to walk over. One, two, three! Nothing. He was still sitting there. Dangit. It was like his muscles told him what he already knew; this was a really bad idea. It was probably best to just go back to his room and hug a pillow like the freaking wimp he was.

Just as he got up, he heard the voice which made his heart stop, the wonderful deep voice with Australian accent, like honey for his soul. It was just a short "hey". Nothing more. More than enough to make him stop completely. Sniper had noticed him. Sniper had noticed him! All the times on the battlefield and during dinners he'd tried to get some contact with the man, and now… Now he'd been noticed by justbeing there.

Scout turned slowly around, just to see that Sniper was still staring up at the clear, bright night sky. The stars were shining brightly in his glasses, making it impossible to see his eyes beneath. The moonlight made his normally rather tan skin pale, almost white. It was actually a good thing that Sniper was looking away, or he'd seen how Scout was more or less staring at him the whole walk over to him. Not a single detail went unnoticed from his eyes; even the smallest speck on his skin was carefully observed and saved in his memory.

"Hey, man." Scout almost surprised himself when his voice didn't crack at that simple sentence. He didn't even stutter. This would be just fine, he told himself, he would make it. And everything would be fine.

"Evenin'." One word and Scout almost melted to a puddle beside him. His voice was soft and dark like chocolate, tasty, tasty chocolate.

"I, uh… Pretty awesome sky, huh?" Pathetic. A stupid way to break the ice. Neither of them were fond of small talking, and this was pretty much the definition of it.

"Mhm."

Silence. Not a sound was heard from either of the two men. One of them still studied the sky; the castelations were so different from where he was from, but beautiful nevertheless. The other didn't think the stars were half as beautiful as the man watching them.

It took three minutes of awkward silence and about five or six horrible efforts for Scout to say anything at all. It would probably have been for the best if he had just stayed silent; the words coming out of his mouth sounded more like a drunk man trying to play a trumpet than real words. "I-need-to-tell-you-somethin'."

"Come again?" Sniper finally turned to look at him. Now it would be even more difficult to speak properly, with those eyes studying him. Maybe he was looking at Scout the same way Scout had done earlier. Every little detail. Perhaps he noticed the little bruise right below his left eye, the one he'd gotten after a fight with the other team's Scout earlier that day. Imagine if he would run his finger over it and tell him how sad he was that it ruined his face, but hopefully it would be better soon. Imagine if he actually cared, deep beneath his careless appearance.

"I…" His voice cracked, but a quick cough covered it. "Listen, I need to tell you somethin'."

"Tell me what?"

"Somethin' important." This was it. No turning back now. The result would either be heaven or hell for him. Returned feelings or nothing at all. His heart threatened with escaping through his dry throat, which he tried to lubricate with non-existing salvia. Sweat started to emerge on his bandaged palms – making them incredibly uncomfortable to wear –, it seemed impossible to get enough air and his tongue didn't listen to him when he forced himself to speak with a raspy voice. "Li-listen, I-"

"Yo, sorry I'm late." An incredibly familiar voice interrupted him. It couldn't be. What the hell was that guy doing here? What made him think he could just walk over onto their territory like this, like he fucking owned the place? Scout turned to Sniper to see his reaction, but it wasn't the one he had hoped from. Far from it.

"It's fine, love." Sniper got on his feet and wrapped his arms around the other Scout. No. It was impossible. It was the wrong Scout! This wasn't supposed to be hismoment. That guy wasn't even supposed to be here, it was wrong. They killed each other on daily basis, and now, now they were kissing each other like they were lovers who hadn't seen each other for months.

"What the hell is going on?" Scout got on his feet and marched up to the blurry couple. His thumping heart had calmed down by now. Instead of jumping up and down, it was slowly dying, shattered in a puddle of its own blood. Due to the pain, it was difficult to breathe properly. It was like his lungs had given up. They didn't want to live any longer.

"Hey, fuck off." The disgusting lookalike glanced hatefully at Scout. Of course Sniper didn't say anything; he was way too busy running his hand through the ugly hair of the smaller man. The man who looked about just the same as Scout. What was the difference? It had to be some reason Sniper had chosen that douche over Scout, who was almost as close to perfection as Sniper. They were so goddamn alike, and yet… Yet he'd been ignored.

"Why don't you fuck off? You don't belong here!" His voice didn't work properly about three times in there, but he didn't care. What he did care about, was how his fist was planted perfectly in the other Scout's face, directly at his nose. His blue shirt slowly turned red while they glared at each other.

The wrong one had Sniper's arm around his waist.

There was no doubt in who loved who here, and Scout was left out.

Beaten by a fucking BLU.

Normally, he would have stayed and fought. That guy would have been nothing but a bloody pulp when Scout was finished with him. But he didn't care. Nothing was important for him any longer. There wasn't really any feelings inbound either, just… Emptiness. Painful, lonely emptiness.

Without another word, he turned around and started making his way back to the base. It was a difficult task as his knees had given up as well, threatening him with collapsing any moment. Behind him he could hear the two exchange some words. They were probably talking about him. How fucking retarded and stupid he was, and how he was almost crying like a baby over something as stupid as this. It wouldn't have surprised him.

What did surprise him, however, was the steps approaching him quickly from behind. It wasn't the Scout. That was for sure. They were too heavy and stiff, not light and agile like the young man. No, this was Sniper. Lovely. As if Scout hadn't had enough already. But nooo, they'd decided to torture him even more. He didn't run away, there was no use in it. No matter what he would do, it would still be there. The emptiness. Consuming everything he felt and did, even the pain from whatever Sniper was going to say.

"Scout, wait."

Scout didn't wait.

Scout kept walking.

"What was your important message?"

Scout turned slowly to look at him. The blue-shirted man wasn't there. He could still tell him how he felt, and everything would be all right. Sniper would leave the other Scout; they would both understand how wrong it was. Nobody would get hurt, except for the ugly moron who thought it was okay to walk over to their area.

"I…" It wasn't possible for him to say it. Just the thought of the phrase made his throat thicken enough for him to almost choke. So he turned around again and continued his slouching towards the door.

Sniper asked him one more time. He sounded impatient and angry at Scout for being so dramatic.

"Fine," Scout said before he opened the door. Still, he couldn't say it, but the demanding face on Sniper forced him to say something before he closed the door. "I'm so sorry, but I... Uh, it's... It's your turn to do the dishes."

And then he closed the door.