Request for moevelvet in tumblr who ask for some Medic/Heavy fluff and I get this.
Schwarzbier and wounds
That has been a really long day when he finally could take a break and fell onto the armchair. A really tired and long day. The armchair was stiff and uncomfortable but still better than stand on his own feet. Even that old unwieldy object seemed the Heaven in that moment for the exhausted and dusty man. The Medic opened his jacket for take a deep breath and closed his eyes. Little and not than little blood stains told that day's story without words.
They won that day. It always require blood, screams and damnations. It never deserves the effort because they are going pay theirs checks at the end of the month but it has to mean something.
A big figure appeared at his right hand and the Medic only raised te gaze a few centimeters, without interest. He knew perfectly who was the figure. Not only because only one man in that base was as high as this figure, otherwise because only one person would appear at that moment. And only one person would put a cold fresh beer bottle in front of his eyes.
"Wunderbar" muttered the Medic. Meanwhile the Heavy sat down at the other armchair. Under the bigest mercenary the armchair seemed silly and useless.
"I thought you could need a glup."
And he was right. But the Medic didn't say anything about it. Instead of it the german man caught the bottle and took a long swig. After the day the cold beer was magnificent. Exactly the same that the old armchait. That piece of furniture should spent there more years than any mercenary in the base.
"This is one of mine" observed the Medic.
"Yeah."
The man raised an eyebrow waiting for a better response but this never came.
"So you took it without telling me" continued.
"Yeah."
Again, a really disappointing reply. The Engineer and the Soldier used to fill the firdge with american beer. It wasn't bad but the Medic longed for the autentic Schwarzbier from his natal land.
Finally the big one realized that he was waiting for something.
"I thought you could need it so I took it, yeah" repeat.
By that time the Medic realized that the Heavy had his own bottle of beer but it was one of the base's. He glaced again to the russian and, at the end, sighted.
That was a really tired and long day even if they won.
"Yes, I did" accepted.
None of the mercenaries had return to the base in a good way. The Medic was an expert in that, without effort he could see the battle marcs in the Heavy. The scrath in his neck, the bruise in his cheek, the wounds in this hands… Fight against BLUes never was easy, not even if they won.
"Came here. We are going to check you. You have a few wounds" said standing up.
The Heavy looked at him for a second but finally followed him. The Medic didn't say "thanks" but he didn't need. Heavy could imagine it and pretend he said it and he can only take care of his health as always do.