The next day's battle was the fiercest Michael had seen a long time. The intensity of it at all made him feel alive, in a horrible way. The exhilaration got to him more than he cared to admit. That was, until he bumped into some slim, invisible force. The Spy uncloaked quickly, staring at him with wild, terrified eyes. The light blue mask over the man's face told Sniper who it was immediately. "What the hell are you doing here?" The Sniper asked, his voice close to roaring. "Get out of here!" He shoved the man backwards, surprised at how easy it was to shove him back. He was furious that the Spy had the audacity, to... to... to show up in RED territory like this. Did he expect special treatment from the Sniper now, or something? Was it just his way of getting a little ahead in this war?
"Je ne peux pas, desolé. s'il te plait, mon ami-" His French was frantic, and as he spoke, his eyes glanced around in a crazed fashion, watching for any of Michael's teammates. For the first moment since the battle began, the Sniper felt himself slowing down, the adrenaline calming down. He felt pity for the man in front of him. He grabbed both of Spy's arms, forcing his gray eyes to look into Michael's.
"Calm down. It's okay." He said calmly, exaggerating his breathing in hopes that Spy would catch on, and stop his hyperventilating. Unfortunately, it didn't seem to do much. A rattling noise started to come from the back of the spy's throat, like he was either coughing or choking at the same time. Sniper started to panic, himself, inwardly. The assassin in front of him was having a full-blown panic attack in the middle of the battle. Sniper didn't know what to do, and instinctively, he wrapped his arms around the smaller man.
The Spy was warm, and despite the fact he was alarmingly bony and small, he was one of those people who is comfortable to hold. He could feel the man's shoulder blades through his suit, and he wanted to hold him tighter, to stop the panic. He started quietly shushing the spy, and reminding him again that it would be okay. Finally, the Spy began to calm down. His breathing normalized and the rattling cough started to fade quickly.
The Spy looked up at him, and quickly stepped away. "Desolé." He cloaked, before the Sniper could say anything. Michael relled around, trying to find the man again, but he couldn't. He was gone. Sniper returned to the battle, and did his best to forget the occurrence.
That evening, Sniper was sitting alone in his bunk. His team's spy and medic were God-knows-where and Michael was grateful for the quiet. He was sitting on his bunk, cross legged, thinking. His thoughts were suddenly disturbed, however, by the sudden appearance of a man in front of him, uncloaking. It was the BLU Spy. Of course. The silence remained.
"I am sorry." The Spy didn't meet Michael's eyes, looking down, instead. "That is what I came here to say." He sounded like an ashamed child.
"You don't have to apologize, mate. Jus' tell me what was goin' on." Michael swallowed the millions of question as to how exactly the Spy had gotten in to their base. "That is none of your concern!" The Spy hissed, before Sniper could even finish speaking. He clenched his gloved fists, and dropped them to his sides. "I... I cannot talk about it, right now. Maybe ever. I... I don't feel... comfortable discussing this with someone that I don't..." Spy trailed off, still not meeting the Sniper's eyes.
"That's fine, I guess. But I meant it, about not showing up on our side during the battle. You'll just get both of us killed. The blokes around here aren't too keen on seein' someone like you." Sniper shrugged, running his hands along the side of the bed, out of awkwardness. Spy's eyebrows shot up at the beginning of Sniper's sentence. Sniper noticed, and continued. "You know, you don't have to share it with me, if you don't... want to, I guess?" Sniper shrugged again. He was inwardly cringing at his awkward words. Spy's head shot up, however, making eye contact with Michael.
Michael had forgotten how piercing his eyes were. They were like stray stars that had fallen down onto the Earth, and they captivated him in a way he didn't know was possible.
The Spy stared at him for a moment, not saying anything. His fists unclenched, but they stayed strained. The Sniper started to feel awkward again, not really sure what was going on. Before he could even think about what was going on, the Spy's hand was on the side of his face, pulling him into a kiss. It only lasted for a few seconds, but it was the best kiss Michael had ever had in his life. The Spy was a good kisser; there was no doubt about that in any way. The feeling of the kiss distracted Michael from the questions swarming his head like ants.
How had the Spy known about Sniper's feelings? Or had he not known at all, and just gone with it? Was this actual feelings or just the Spy's way of bringing this out of him?
But when the Spy pulled out of the kiss, and looked into Sniper's eyes, there was a tiny moment where his eyes looked so vulnerable, but so hopeful, that Sniper knew it had to be real.