Hey guys! It's been a long time since I posted, hasn't it? But never fear, I have not left you. I've just been busy with my personal affairs, e.g. College has started, I'm job seeking, attempting to avoid perverts, that kind of thing.
Anyway, here's a new story to read. It's actually an RP that I'm doing with a friend over deviantART. "Little-Miss-Scar" I'm called, look me up!
So this is a Team Fortress YAOI fanfiction. If you do not like YAOI, then I suggest that you leave. There will be MPREG in the future, so look out for some ass-babies! xD
(Chapter One)
Leroi had woken from his slumber and he was, as per usual, hung-over. Grumbling as he rose from his single bunk, the agent slumped over to his 'bathroom' that consisted of a toilet, a sink and a mirror. He washed his armpits, shaved his light stubble and then brushed his teeth to get rid of his morning breath. In his van the RED Sniper woke up to the awful sound of his alarm clock. "Hrrrrmm..." He growled and dropped his big hand onto the annoying little device. Against his will he stood up from the bed to get dressed. Who gave a shit about shaving or taking a morning shower? He'd much rather do that after the battle when he was sweaty and dirty. There wasn't anyone sniffing at him in his nest anyway. When he was fully dressed the gunman left his van to join the others at breakfast. At breakfast, Leroi ate three pieces of toast, one bowl of cereal, two bananas and drank one tall glass of orange juice. He had a BIG appetite considering how tiny of a man that he was. The Spy then stood up and went back to his room for his weapons and gadgets; a pocket knife, some grenades, a BB gun, and some other things necessary for the mission. Today, Leroi had a certain target in particular. A smirk crept upon his lips and he smiled to reveal his pearly white teeth. The Sniper ate like a horse, knowing there wouldn't be any food before the mission was over. Heavies were allowed to bring snacks to the field, why weren't snipers? The marksman gathered his stuff and put a few empty glass bottles into his pocket. He smirked to himself. The BLU backstabber would definitely stay out of his way once he'd get jarate all over his prissy suit. Who would wear a suit during a battle anyway? The French bastard had to be out of his mind. He glanced outside. 'Upwards' was what the place was called and those rotten BLUs would once more try pushing the damn bomb into the RED's base. He loaded his gun. Wasn't gonna happen. The booming female voice started counting and the team exited the spawn like a small school of fish. The same went for the BLU team. They all disbursed and the Spy was on the move. He sped through the battlefield, sticking to any shadow possible and made his way toward the nest where he was sure that the RED Bushman was hiding; ready to take him down. The rifle in his hands and the scope covering his other eye the gunman grumbled quietly to himself. He pulled the trigger and less than a second later he took the BLU Heavy down. "Wanka'..." He muttered, reloaded and lifted the weapon back to its place. Something caught his attention. Something smelled like a rotten corpse in his nose and he knew better than well what it was. "Bloody spook..." He snarled, tensing as he waited for a sign to turn around. The cologne the Frenchman always used made him sick. Combined with the reek of the cigarette the agent was always smoking it was even more disgusting. He had made it to the nest. All he needed to do now was to kill that Bastard of a Sniper. He made sure that his BB gun was loaded and that his pocket knife was easily accessible, before going in for the kill. The Aussie kept still, pretending not to notice the uninvited guest. Just a little more... Yes, come on, just a few more steps... The gunman swirled around in a blink of an eye, grabbing his loyal kukri from the crate next to him. "Show yer masked face, ye bloody rat!" He growled, all his senses alarmed as he looked around the small room surrounding him. The nest was deadly silent and even though both teams resided in the desert, a cold chill blew gently down the Aussie's spine and then a cold sharp blade was slightly pushed against his back. The BLU had made a break for it. He'd completed his part of the mission, now his teammates had to do the same. When he was safe and back in the base, the Spy pulled off his blue ski mask and went to wash his face off. He sighed as he looked at himself in the mirror. He was lonely, unappreciated, unloved and he just wanted someone to talk to that would understand him...
The Frenchman then pulled his pants on over his boxers, did the buttons up on his shirt, tied his tie and added his coat, ski mask and gloves. His outfit was blue which represented his team. His team, at this moment in time, wasn't doing too well with beating the REDs. The BLUs needed a new plan; quickly.
Making sure that his shoes were tied, the BLU Spy went to join his teammates for breakfast.
"Je déteste les lundis..."
The rest of the BLU team didn't look any better. They were tired and sick of losing all the time. Yet every day they did their best on the battlefield in order to beat their RED counterparts.
"Bushman...~"
"Checkmate...mate." Leroi smirked and pushed the knife all the way into the Sniper's back.
It was only a blink of an eye when the sharp pain took over his whole body. It was paralyzing, the most horrible feeling a man could ever imagine. He wanted to say something back, taunt or insult the shorter man but all he could let out was a howl of pain. The world around him got dark and soon his lifeless body collapsed on the Frenchman's feet. He had died again. Not many moments later the Aussie opened his eyes in the respawn. "Bloody hell..!" He growled with a furious snarl and with long, angry steps he headed back to the battlefield.
"Time to get drunk." Leroi decided and moved to change into his only set of casual clothes; a pair of dark blue jeans, a white shirt that had no top buttons and pair of black shoes. He got his hair in place and got rid of the smell of cigarettes with his cologne.
