Scout jammed the comb into his wet brown hair, violently pulling it back with flicks of his wrists and swear words from his lips. His towel wrapped around his waist and carefully tied in a knot in the front. The mirror in front of him was long, long enough to capture his entire body. He always hated his mothers decorating of his room, the only thing she never touched was the foul balls that Scout managed to catch at baseball games with his real father, that sat in their stands on his dresser.
Scout eyed his wrists in the mirror, the swift gentle fading wounds almost alluring. He shook his head to distract him from the wounds, drops of water sprinkling onto the mirror surface.
He couldn't remember the last time he was home. He remembered a fight breaking out between him and his step-father, also known as, Spy.
It wasn't that he hated the man, it was just the re-occurring guilt that lay nestled in him at the idea of making Spy his father figure although his real father (Not really his real father, but Scout managed to convince himself that he was, he would never admit his real father was a man he didn't particularity like and didn't even grow up with). Happened to be dead. He felt the guilt settle in every time Spy tried to bond with him and he merely said he had to go whenever the bonding got too much, to the point where Scout was practically being read bed-time stories by the masked man, he was six years old when he found out about Spy, as you can imagine a six year old cannot comprehend the death of a loved one, the Revelation of a new father, and the responsibilities of a thirteen year old.
On top of all that there was eight other children in the house, all older than him by three or four years. He was the constant target of torment and the only thing he knew how to do best was to run from his problems, never to raise his fist at his brothers faces, never to kick them or hit them, just as they had done to him. But Spy had always attempted to assist Scout in his times of needs, although he never really wanted his help, Spy always insisted.
Scouts thought were shaken from his mind as he felt two arms wrap around his waist. Sniper's warm skin touched with Scout's rather cold and damp skin. "Oi, You alright?" the man whispered into Scout's ear and Scout gulped down whatever saliva was sitting in his mouth at the time. "Yea, Of course I am, Perfectly perfect." He smirked a bit only to be responded by a pair of warm lips to his neck and gentle sucking at his skin. "Mm..." the younger of the two mumbled slightly feeling his cheeks warm up and he closed his eyes. "What...are you doing." Scout asked, eyes screwed shut in fear to open them in case something embarrassing was revealed to him.
"Yer at home with lots'o Sheila's walkin around. Right?" Sniper smiled a bit pulling away from Scout to admire the blotch on his skin that he produced. "Just marking yah as mine."
Scout turned slightly to stare at the older man with a quiet smile. "You're such an ass." he said warmly letting himself fall slightly only to be caught in his lovers arms. "Thank you." Scout whispered gently, nuzzling his face into the fabric of Sniper's red shirt. Sniper removed his hat from his head with a free hand and smiled firmly. "For what?" he questioned and Scout looked up slightly with blue eyes and talked into the fabric. "Not abandoning me, especially since Imma freak." he said gently as he looked down slightly to see his stomach rather large this particular day and somehow that bothered him. It looked so unnatural to his particular skinny frame. Sniper sighed and gently patted the boys hair down. "Listen love, Medic's on both sides enjoy doing weird things to their team-mates, what if yer Medic did this and just didn't tell you... What was his reaction to it?." Sniper questioned catching Scout off guard.
Scout bit his tongue and sighed "Well, at first he smiled crazily and told me it was nothing, than he dismissed it like it was natural for me..." Scout replied cautiously. Sniper pulled Scout closer and sighed "Yer Doc is one crazy wankah".