Pairing: Sniper/Scout
Team Fortress 2

Was it even possible to divide one's attention so? Or rather, was it wise to assign one ear and eye a direction, a corner, to commit the sensory flesh to sounds and sights of one specific instance whilst ignoring all others? Perhaps, even in this time of stand still, a full and wholly functioning guard would be the wisest to possess. Yet was he not doing his best to ensure his safety? The man had the scope a sniper rifle fixed to his eye for God's sake.

Not that he intended to pull the trigger his gloved finger wraps around. Not that his bated, tense breath that hisses beneath his clenched white teeth is restrained any kind of way; certainly not so that he may hear the patter of his enemy racing from the doomed line of sight that was the wasteland of guaranteed death below the Sniper's nest. The silence was necessary as long as he wanted to prevent any lethal prods to the back...

No, it is not the concentration of fatal marksmanship that holds Sniper captive in this evening that marks day number two of ceasefire. He is simply keeping watch; careful to keep the dot out sight so as to prevent suspicion or stir up worry or bloodthirsty rumours. He simply watches the barricaded entrances to the base lying opposite their own, the metallic planks of the building's foundation gleaming orangish in this oddly still night.

How was it that the woman's voice alone seemed to command the tides of combat, that the field below that is still stained with the blood of war is perfectly quiet only because a woman over an intercom said so? Sniper liked a good mystery, a challenging riddle, but it was an eerie feeling, knowing that, when it came right down to it, the enigma boiled down to a small, wispy thread that in turn bound itself with his own fate...

He emits a guttural grunt mixed of disapproval and dismissal of his own thoughts, shifting his back so his spine cracks his discs into place, readjusting the rifle and settling back into a concentrated stupor. Just what was he looking out for? What was he hoping to gain by wasting one of the few evenings he had to call his own? Ceasefires, as he'd learned from ten hard years of fighting this overdrawn, tiresome war, could end any time without warning. Sometimes a whole six months went by without the drones of sirens, while others Sergei could barely consume his lunch before another unexpected mission was set to begin in sixty seconds...

Dell always had a small sentry kept on snooze, placed discreetly near their barracks during the times of peace; he too must've found it all so dreamy, this idealistic concept of sudden and indefinite bliss. It helped ease Sniper's sense of paranoia, knowing that one of his less maniacal comrades also operated with a thin sheet of vigilance rooted in the back of his mind...

In Sniper's younger days, during which he was still one out of six RED Snipers around the world, the first instance of ceasefire had elevated his spirits, heightened by the knowledge that rest was underwayand yet, as his service grew more in years, he'd grown to realize they meant nothingit would only be a matter of time until death crawled back up behind them again.

Too many times had he been caught off guard, but no longer would he have his hopes for the war's end be slashed away by the ever familiar sounds of screams, explosions, and the raspy, feminine countdown of destruction. He'd fallen for it much too easily before, and Sniper was no fool.

But this, this is Sniper simply invading the privacy of the opposition, an intrusion of BLU's personal being. He was very much relieved they showed no signs of hostility from across the fields!

He lowers the rifle, bringing his calloused fingers to his temple, removing his orangish sunglasses and meditating in silence - save the soft breathing he exhales deeply from within him, the rushing pace of his heart slowing to a wistful thump, light against his breast...

Perhaps, this really would be the time of permanent surrender. Perhaps he could simply lay it all to rest and enjoy his time back in the base with the othersthough all the while remaining true to his nature and retreating to bed before he got too involved in their social activities, or too loose lipped from tangy liquor Tavish had packed away in his bag of Scottish delights.

By hocking himself away in his nest and dwelling on the end, he only took away these docile moments from himself. But before heading down and back to the base, Sniper wants to give it a few moments to let it get dark so that he may crawl down unnoticed. He rests his wrists upon his knees, his back hunched in a state of relaxed repose. Even dull, thoughtless moments rang with meaning without the screech and hum of carnage underneath them.

"Blimey, 's been a good while since I enjoyed one o' these," Sniper sighs, lifting a dusty carton of cigarettes from underneath a pile of old jars and coffee filters (when you're expected to snipe all night like war time often called for, caffeine and nicotineas was a handy place to relieve oneselfwas painfully necessary).

"Heh, never did give these back to Luc," Sniper grumbles, remembering the scene in which he approached the smarmy Frenchman for the pack as if it was simply a part of dreary life.

"Git wouldn't let me hear the end of it when I told 'im I'd lost the damn things..." he snarls before tossing the carton back onto the table. The Spy'd long since provided new ones for himself as it was. It takes Sniper only a second to find the translucent blue lighter amongst the litter of abandoned cartridges and smoked, sauteed filters. He flicks the flame, and he can hear the burning of the cigarette as he takes a sharp inhale of relaxing smoke, the smoggy air of the humid nest almost igniting under its influence.

"Hey there, slugger, smokin's bad for ya health, ya know," a sharp, disapproving voice calls from somewhere on Sniper's right, the man instantly producing a kukri from his hip and pointing it menacingly at the young, lean figure who holds his hands up innocently.

"Whoa, calm down there, Snipes, 's just me!" he chuckles nervously, the one referred to as Snipes however not relaxing his stance.

"I ain't a Spy!you could throw your jarate on me for kicksit wouldn't do nothin'!"

Sniper grimaces at the edge of the Bostonian accent Scout haughtily snaps in, grunting in reluctant approval before letting a strained silence wash between them. It doesn't take the irritable edge the young man's sudden visit has provided from Sniper's already dreadfully sour mood, however. There were many moments in which Sniper would have rathered an attempt on his life by BLU's Spy than airheaded chatter by BLU's Scout.

"Since when d'you give a shit 'bout my health?" Sniper grunts, his curled lips upturned in a scowl Scout can only assume is a product of some unspoken disgust the man internalises over his interrupted "quiet time".

"You ain't even gonna offer me a seat, though?" Scout pretends to scold the grumbling figure, and he laughs in an attempt to bring a smile to Sniper's facehis grin slides off quickly as he sees the unamused expression he causes instead, the older man clearing a spot on a crate in the corner nonetheless.

And so it goes for a few of the most painful seconds in Scout's life. The weary Australian simply takes drag after drag before blowing the smoke dully through his nose, Scout opening and closing his mouth as he sits, speechless, the stony gaze of his friend however scaring him out of saying whatever it was his mind managed to formulate.

"If you've got sumthin' to say, gremlin, spit it out 'nd quit gapin' at me like a bloody goldfish!" Sniper snaps before crushing the cigarette against the ground, flicking the butt. "'Nd it better not be any more of your anti-smoking drivel"

"I wasn't gonna say nothin' about it!"

"Righto, otherwise I would've flung y'back down the ladder, mate..." Sniper grins in a mock cheery tone, Scout scowling before folding his long arms across his lean chest.

"Heyyo, Snipes, ain't no need for the sass for real!" Scout snaps, waving the wafting smoke toward the cracks in the wooden planks, trying to air the nest out. "Can we open the hatch or somethin'?"

"No, you idiot, or else they'll hear us down there!"

"Jeeze, you just gonna let your own guest choke ta death, though?"

"Look Scout, I dunno where your sudden fascination with social etiquette came from, but I ain't too keen on this posh little 'tude'specially 'cause I didn't ask for your company in the first place," Sniper gestures toward the hatch on the floor, Scout not budging regardless. "Feel free to bugger on off any time, though, daisy," Sniper grins, Scout narrowing his eyes.

The two fall prey to the same silence that tends to overcome them the longer their visits become, Scout lighting a small candle and covering the trusty crack Sniper used to snipe through so as to prevent any light from giving away their position. The sight of the BLU Scout resting casually in the nest of the RED Sniper would undoubtedly bring about attention and curiosity from their otherwise inattentive comrades...

"You know, anyone with a functionin' brain would've taken the hint that I don't want to be bothered by now 'nd gone on about their damn business,"

"Too bad so sad, dingo, ain't gonna happenI ain't goin' nowhere, so you sit back and enjoy it!" Scout grins, his heart lightening as, despite the irritated groan Sniper emits, he sees the corners of the older man's lips twitch upward in a smile of resignation as well.

"'Specially ain't gettin' rid of me so easy after all I had to go through to get up hereyou ain't got no idea how many 'xcuses I gotta give those losers in order to come outside so I can see ya," Scout scratches behind his neck as he attempts to keep his voice rooted in evenness, though Sniper can hear the beg for validation on the edge of it.

"Cute," Sniper chuckles, Scout folding his arms and nodding seriously.

"Hell yeah, it is! Now I ain't got much time up here, they're gonna know somethin's up if I stay out too longyour REDS know you outside too?" Scout asks curiously, furrowing his brow as Sniper laughs a deep chuckle, shaking his head.

"I'm a grown man, Scoots, I don't need a curfew," he grins, Scout punching him playfully on the arm and pouting. "Besides, never was the life of the party, figure they don't mind much when I step outside for a breather,"

"Hey, before you go thinkin' shit, it ain't because I need watchin', alright? They're just afraid you creepy REDs'll try somethin' funny or some shit!" Scout explains, and Sniper shakes his head, wondering just where it was he turned on the path of life that led the smart assed boy of the opposite team some twelve years younger than himself to be his most cherished friend in all the worldnot that he'd ever tell Scout he was...

"And it seems like they ain't too far off! What the Hell're you even doin' up here, though? You got your weapons 'nd shit, you tryin' to kill us or somethin'?"

And Sniper rolls his eyes before waving a hand as if to dismiss the subject altogether, seeing as he was in no mood to discuss his own subconscious fear of falling too deep into the feeling of freedom, of peace, only for it all to be wrenched away under the Announcer's call. He would simply wait it out here, wait for the inevitable day in which they were all summoned back under the command to kill. And like Hell he'd ever tell the boy he dreads the day he would ever have to fire a shot into his head.

It seemed too delicate enough of a topic as it was, that the two, who've already killed countless members of the other's respective teams over and over again, would someday, someday reach the point where it would come down to the fatal stroke or shot or bludgeon between them; Sniper would rather die before harm Scouthe loved him too much to even let the images root themselves in the eyes of his conscious...

"I've a noisy crew, sometimes it's nice t'just get out 'nd thinkthat's where havin' your own nest comes in handyI figured it would draw less attention than if I were to waltz about down on the fields there'course I totally forgot I had my own personal noisemaker on BLU, too," Sniper grins before taking the scalding pot of water he'd been preparing in the coffee pot and pouring the steaming contents into two mugs.

Scout smirks quietly, watching his friend dab two teabags serenely into the liquid, taking the moment of his distraction as an opportunity to admire the man he'd looked up to since almost the beginning. He can remember their first meeting; late at night, though still light due to the intense summer that raged three years ago when he first joined, the young man had been rummaging outside the base, hoping to climb the apple tree near the side and pluck a few pieces off its branches...

It was lucky for Scout the Sniper came out, shotgun in hand, for when the boy fell from surprise from the tree, any other person would've shot on sightBut Sniper knew Scout meant no harm with his hands carrying nearly a bushel of the stolen fruit, and simply laughed as he found him a bag from inside the base, handing it kindly to the swift, blue tinted thief.

He'd told him to scram before any of the others found out, but never expected it to happen every night. But it did, and Sniper would stand out there with a bag, a disapproving smirk aimed in the approaching boy's direction. Eventually he began escorting him back to his base for good measure, trapped in dialogue with Scout, who could never resist an opportunity to talk, even if it was with his enemy.

Just by looking at him, Sniper knew this was BLU's Scout he was slowly starting to befriend, but Scout didn't figure out the role of his RED helper until almost getting his head shot off by the gruff Australian, cowering in fear as a warning shot whizzing past his ear was enough to give Scout the idea not to come any closer to the intel.

But still, neither Sniper nor Scout ever imagined that giving the Bostonian an infernal bag would lead to him finding a friend in whom he often referred to as a spastic bastard, nor to actually protecting him on the battlefield, or falling in love with him

It always turned Scout's cheeks so hot, the reminder that Sniper considered it more of a priority to watch out for the young man's safety than his own...

It was a mark of their friendship, the bond between them, when Sniper had seen the injured, almost dying Scout immobilised in the sewers of the BLU base. Heinrich, though a trusty BLU doctor, had the lives of many others at stake for one, and escaping Heinrich's radar was a risk Scout had to take when messing with underground, alternate routes. Without hesitation or a twinge of rationality, Sniper had swooped from his post and down into the pipes, carrying the young man with a speed that, Scout had noticed even in his state, could damn well rival his own in an emergency...

And that was it exactly; he had been an emergency. Scout was the only thing on Sniper's mind that day and he knew it. Even as they whizzed past their comrades, who had to shake their heads to make sure they really hadn't seen their Sniper rushing toward the infirmary with an enemy Scout in his arms, he only ran forward.

Scout can only gaze softly at the man who was more or less his hero (in a variety of ways...), his eyes glazed with longing as he surveys the man still bustling over the heated beverage, only now noticing that the man had his hat and glasses off...

Scout decides not to say anything, his face flushing a healthy red as he remembers that the hat and glasses had always stayed on, Sniper nearly regarding them as children, and grew annoyed whenever Scout had playfully tried to take them.

Those grey eyes, those same grey eyes Scout had only seen a few times without the obstruction of lenses, and yet long since committed to memory, are always so warm and caring as he adds just the perfect amount of milk he knew Scout likes in his tea. The young man accepts the mug into his hands with a soft "Thanks" before he careens his gaze so it fixes itself on the slowly undulating liquid, too hot to sip just yet.

"Y'need to be careful, climbin' up hereif one of my lot sees you, they could think you're up to no good,"

"Yeah, well, you'd stick up for me, right? You'd tell 'em we're friends and I don't mean nothin' by it!" Scout beams, Sniper laughing incredulously, shaking his head as always.

"Why you always gotta shake your head like you don't believe what you're hearin' or somethin'?"

"Because half the time I don't, 'nd as much as I'd like t'stick up for ya, I can't say I'm in the mood to openly admitting to committin' treason," Sniper explains moodily, taking a sip of his tea and continuing promptly. "I'd rather not get our contracts terminated 'nd discharged if I can avoid it,"

Scout nods and lets a soft mutter of understanding slip through his pursed lips.

"In other words, I'd quit coming up here if I were you, doosie," Sniper sighs, Scout scoffing and twirling the mug about in his hands.

"I woulda thought it wouldn't be that big o' deal, bein' ceasefire an' all..."

"Well, things are more complicated than they seem; and you need t'watch out after yourself," Sniper warns. "Just because we're calmin' it all down for now, that doesn't mean one of us doesn't have a gun pointin' 'round our base at all times"

"Yeah, yeah..."

"And they could think you're tryin' to explode the nest"

"What, do I look like a freakin' Demoman? You need to tell your REDS to settle down and quit drawin' those conclusions"

"Settlin' down and turnin' blind eyes is how people get slaughtered out here, mate! I've seen it happen a million times over, the team that snoozes, they always get destroyed"

"So jeeze, what am I suppos'ta do then, walk around with a fuckin' minigun?" Scout booms, Sniper rolling his eyes and growling from irritation. "You need to be more watchful of yourself, make sure that you're ready for anythin' at any time"

"Alright, alright, champ, I came up here 'cause I wanted to see you, not get no lectures on self defense from no dingbat"

"Well 'scuse for simply tryin' to make sure they aren't scrapin' your pasty gibs off the side of a building, love!"

"That's where you're worryin', I got this!" Scout beams, Sniper smirking at his smugness. "You ain't gotta worry about me, slugger..."

"There're only so many times I can save you out there, Lawrence..." Sniper mumbles, Scout jumping at the usage of his real name, his eyes rooted onto the man who sits in the opposite corner still. It always startled him when they addressed each other by their actual names, the only things left untainted by the identities of war. Scout always did love the Australian growl Sniper packed behind the pronunciation of a name Scout had never been content with, shuddering pleasantly on the rarity he heard it huskily spoken-
"I mean it, boyo I've got my eye on you out there, but..."

Scout smiles as he can tell by the hazy, distant look in Sniper's eyes that he too remembers the day he risked both their lives to save the younger of the two.

"S'alright, I know what you mean..."

"I dunno what I'd do if I ever lost you, gremlin," Sniper clears his throat, avoiding his eye by taking a sip of tea.

"Well, you won't!" Scout assures him with that familiar cockiness, blushing however as he winks at the older man.

"I promise..." Scout nods, falling silent as he meets his best friend's eyes.

"Jack?" Scout asks quietly, catching Sniper's attention, and the stillness in the air is debilitating, the silence heavy and yet so perfect.

"Jack," Scout asks again, sighing a bit as he snatches the cap from his head, kneading it nervously in his hands.

"What is it, gremlin?" Sniper asks quietly, his expression soft with a smile, the insult coated in affection. But within seconds he knows what it is, because the young man places his cup gently against the floor before sitting himself gently next to Sniper upon the crate the older man sits, their legs touching as Sniper takes the thin, tape wound hand into his, letting their fingers curl.

Scout always loved the feeling of the blood rushing to his ears, deafening his sense of anything that wasn't now, that now being Sniper, the older man pulling Scout by his hips so that he falls closer against him, their lips brushing gently before Scout goes ahead and steals them in a gentle kiss.

They'd always been so few, these kisses; the two, who cared deeply for each otheryet were so haughty and unable to submit themselves to the emotion of the otherwho could hardly even admit to there being any sorts of emotions between them extending even a little past friendship, never let it all get too far for a variety of reasonsone being no time for anything other than friendship, when 'time' was controlled by the hoarse ode to 'us versus them'. The other being, well, the otherboth men were very reluctant to accept their love for what it was. But Sniper, for once, just smiles into their kiss, abandoning any pretense of bridling reluctance as Scout's fingers curl along the base of his neck, the long, runner's body hovering over him, obviously enjoying this brief lack of self consciousness himself.

It was a relief, after all, the stinging reality of this lethal limbo suddenly diminishing under the simple press of lips against his, Scout the only one in ten years Sniper'd found was blessed with the gift of stifling any sense of expectant, morbid watch he's keeping for whatever reason.

This damn Scout, Sniper curses, laughing internally at the way his own team's Scout was slightly shorter, a blonde, and much, much calmer in temperment...and yet his proclaimed enemy, the complete opposite of himself, is the one he holds in his arms, his fingers ruffling through the light brown strands of fine hair he normally keeps hidden away underneath the grey cap.

"You musta been missin' me, you can hardly get enough!" Scout beams, sitting on his friend's lap, arms wrapped around his neck.

"Like I'd ever miss a cheeky little wanka like you," Sniper snarls, Scout shrugging off the serious tone and grinning.

"Yeah, yeah, you say thatI know you don't mean it," he winks, Sniper biting back on the fact the he very much meant it, that he found Scout to sometimes be insufferably nerve wracking, cocky, and immature. Yet as he mumbles a gruff "come 'ere" before pulling the boy into a hug and kissing his soft lips again, Sniper realizes for the first time that it didn't stop him from loving Scout any less.