The fuss showed no signs of calming down, so they pooled resources.

Sniper dug a mildly squashed Vegemite sandwich out of a pocket, as well as a half-decent apple. Spy, conversely, pulled an impressively large pile of fancy candies, biscuits, and crackers out of his suit, but not much in the way of sustaining vittles.

Spy pounced on the sandwich like a starving man, giving a little moan of gustatory delight that poured white-hot metal straight down Sniper's spine.

"If this impresses you, you should see how I pour soup out of a can," he said, and contented himself with the apple and a few surprisingly good chocolate truffles. They tasted like the ones he'd had in Belgium, years ago.

"I have international tastes. Even for this foul spread." Spy took another bite and sighed. "I truly did ruin the whole jar that first morning, eh? What a waste."

He paused, then as if in sudden decision pulled off his balaclava and gloves. "It's been a long day and I'm already compromised anyway," he justified to the air, not meeting Sniper's eyes. His shoulders hunched forward, ever so slightly.

Sniper did his best not to stare. An up-close bare-faced Spy was much different than one seen through the scope, somehow realer. His hair was flattened by its time under the balaclava, as though he'd been sleeping on a full-headed pillow, and there were faint tan lines around his eyes and mouth where the mask typically lay. His hands were beautifully manicured and decorated with faded scars. Sniper itched to ask for the story behind each one.

"About my team." Spy continued carefully, brushing a crumb away with a long finger. "Despite our…circumspection, they seem to have picked up on our little war, though they weren't entirely…correct in their conclusions. I assume the REDs did much the same?"

Sniper winced. "Something like that."

In fact, the group had almost immediately agreed among themselves that the BLU Spy was a terrible lover.

All Sniper's fears about being outed had evaporated in open-mouthed shock as they began swapping anecdotes about their own bizarre love lives and scornfully dismissing the BLU Spy's relationship skills and purported performance in the bedroom. It was as though their 'relationship' had been an open, thoroughly gossiped secret amongst them all.

Sniper had attempted to resolve the misunderstanding, but if his tongue didn't trip him up the truth did.

Medic eyed him clinically over his spectacles, as if looking to diagnose whatever insanity led a man to take his worst enemy as a lover. "So you say that BLU Spy has been focusing you for death and harassment out in the field."

"Well yes, but really I feel like I was giving as good as I got out there -"

"And breaking into your camper and stealing or hiding your belongings."

"Well, yes, the first few times got to me but it actually became more of a running joke -"

"And leaving these taunting little notes behind. This one slipped out of your Respawn locker a few weeks ago." Medic held it up, and sniffed disdainfully. It read 'There is a sandwich in here that has nearly achieved sentience - have you ever cleaned this out?'

"Well, yes, but - but it's not like that at all!" Sniper objected. "Some of the notes are almost nice, really -"

He pulled a letter at random out of his vest, where he kept the stack of Notes-From-Spy rather pathetically next to his heart, and waved it in mute appeal.

Scout snatched it out of his hand and ran around to the other side of the table before he could grab it back. He began reading it loudly, sounding out the longer words with a finger to the page.

"...Remember that time I tied you up in that cozy little shack so you could watch me? You were such a tease though! Perhaps we can do it again sometime.

Thank you again, cher, for the charming gift. I think of you whenever I use it. Truly a memory of our excellent, intimate times together."

It certainly read…differently…without the context. The time Spy briefly kidnapped him had been weeks ago, now, and seemed as distant as if it had happened to a different Sniper and a different Spy on another planet.

Scout gagged. "Holy crap dude, I hate old people getting it on. It should be illegal in my totally humble opinion - "

Engie patted the table next to Sniper's hand, carefully not making contact. "You have the patience of a saint, son, and no mistake. But it really does sound like that dirty snake is just using you for your body." His robot hand spun a few times on his wrist in emphasis, and he leaned closer, dropping his voice into confidentiality. "Honestly, you two are terrible at keepin' your little messages and ron-dey-voos a secret, I nearly busted a gut laughin'. I woulda thought better of that BLU rattlesnake, but I've seen teenagers more circumspect than you two."

Sniper buried his hot face in his hands. Pyro rubbed his back soothingly, though the effect was limited somewhat by the asbestos gloves.

RED's own Spy was unusually roused and present in the conversation. "Mon dieu! The man is a handsome rogue, sure enough, but what absolute terrible emotional intelligence! What is this, kindergarten, and him pulling your tails-of-the-pig?"

He leaned forward, and stabbed a finger into the scarred tabletop. "He should be spending his time fucking you, not fucking with you!"

" 'E doesn't deserve our Sniper," said Demo hotly. "Playin' with his heart like that…hot and cold…someone needs t'have an intervention with that scoundrel -"

"We're NOT bloody dating!" shouted Sniper, finally. "I am NOT in any kind of relationship with the BLU Spy!"

"THAT'S THE SPIRIT!" screamed Soldier. "AFFIRMATIONS ARE AN IMPORTANT PART OF HEALING, PRIVATE!" He pulled out two little pennant flags reading DUMP and HIM out of his pocket and started waving them.

Heavy, with a glint in his eye, said "Courage, Sniper! I shall hold down little BLU Spy and you say that to his slimy baby face. Then we will see what he say. Is good." He boomed a laugh.

And that had sent them all off into what they'd do to the Spy when they got their hands on him, and Medic had started talking about decapitation and fridges as the team drunkenly poured themselves out into the hall.

Sniper had gingerly taken the pitchfork and flaming torch Pyro offered, said "Er, great plan. Let me just - let me just get - I'll meet you there, eh?" and escaped.

Sniper blinked back to the present and rubbed the back of his head. He'd lost his hat somewhere in the pell-mell rush to the border between bases, and he felt uncomfortably exposed to scrutiny without the brim to hide under.

"They, er - seemed to be under the impression that we were in some kind of. Er."

"Romantic entanglement," finished Spy.

"Right."

A long, awkward moment resonated.

Spy took a deep drag and finally muttered, "Mine were as well."

The sound of clanging frying pans echoed up from the chaos in the distance, and the two of them reflexively flinched.

Sniper continued, hopeful. "They were, however, full as googs, and they only seem to be getting drunker. Maybe they won't remember how this mess started come morning."

There were now three distinct pans clanging. Wait, four. Five. Six.

Spy sighed and rubbed his temples. "One can only hope. One can only hope. Jumalauta, what a mess this evening has become."

"Could be worse. Our heads could be in fridges."

Spy laughed a little. "That I will happily drink to ward off."

—-—

A surprisingly comfortable silence had fallen over them. Spy traced the constellations peeking out above the horizon. He wondered if Sniper had fallen asleep - he seemed the type who could nap anywhere at need.

"There is one thing that even I have not been able to puzzle out," he said.

Sniper blinked out of his doze. "Oh? Even you? Shockin'."

"Quite," said Spy, dry. "Even I. Why, all those weeks ago, did you embrace me as you did?"

So Sniper told him.

Probably more than he ought, but it felt damn good to get it all out - the loneliness, the need for friendly touch, the tight-collared barriers around male affection adding to his own anxieties around being outed…

There was silence.

When he could finally bring himself to look back, he found Spy sitting with his head in his hands.

The silence stretched. Sniper started to get concerned.

"Er…all right there, mate?"

"Qui se croit sage est un grand fou," he said to the ground.

"Again, I don't speak -"

"It means that I am a - what was your charming word? Drongo. Yes. I am a fool and an idiot and a drongo," said Spy, and abruptly devolved into snorting laughter. It was infectious as all hell, and Sniper ruefully had to join in too.

The sound of an explosion came from the direction of the teams' brawl, and that set them off even harder.

They collapsed back on the dusty rock, Spy pillowing his head on Sniper's stomach.

"All of this," Spy said between gasps, feeling tears soaking into the edges of his hairline, "Because you needed a hug?"

"Well when you put it like that," said Sniper, a little stung.

"No no, it makes perfect sense, I have felt the same way on long missions before. But -" and his voice trembled, threatening another laugh, "you decided I would suffice. I, the man paid vast sums to confuse, deceive, and kill you -"

"Well," said Sniper, throwing up his hands, "would you look at my other options here?" He gestured in the direction of the chaos.

"Touché," said Spy, mock grave.

There was a long, incandescent scream of rage from below. It was shortly joined by an extremely similar voice with the same surprisingly sincere emotion, and their harmonics clashed unpleasantly until the screamers ran out of breath. Even the other noises from below paused a moment, in astonishment or awe.

"у пичку материну," swore Spy. "That sounded almost genuine."

"That's the Scouts," said Sniper, frowning. "I wonder if they just realized -" He cut himself off. Spy was…well it didn't matter what Spy was. It wasn't his secret to tell.

"- That RED Scout is also RED Spy's son? That they are half-brothers, etcetera, etcetera." Spy waved a vague hand. "A delightful secret, originally. But in recent years it has lost its saveur - really quite tragic how your Spy continued to wriggle himself onto it like a worm pierced by a hook. One would think it would be an easier conversation the second time."

The howls started up again, this time with a jumbled stream of incoherent words included, then the team-wide noises raised up again and swallowed them into the chaos.

"He's not my Spy," muttered Sniper, then hurriedly returned to their previous conversation. "Anyways," he said, "you were the one who decided the hug was some secret Spy-ish maneuver that required weird revenge. That I was playing some deep chess game. Me!"

Spy hesitated, then with an effort said, "Actually, in this strange little war of ours you have done well. You surprised me with your…unorthodox strategies." Even this concession made him feel like he was being peeled, his soft interior exposed to the light.

"You got me good too," admitted Sniper. "Did you really learn how to crochet just for that beanie?"

A trace of Spy's usual smugness returned to him. "Of course. Though I truly cannot see the attraction of such a handicraft. One gets tangled in the loops."

"You were pulling too tight, making it harder on yourself. I'll show you sometime."

Spy doffed an invisible hat. "I submit to your tutelage, wool-master."

—-—

The wine was long gone, the night was getting cold, and there were no signs of the chaos - party? - chaos below ending any time soon. It was only Friday night, after all.

"You really aren't used to being without the balaclava, eh?" said Sniper, and dug in his pocket for a moment. "Boom, headshot."

The beanie hit Spy's face and slid down into his lap. He picked it up gingerly, and held it out at arm's length.

It was the most unpleasant color of green Spy had been able to dig up in yarn form, all those weeks ago. It was hideous. It was gauche. It was démodé.

Spy put it on.

It was pretty warm.

"My thanks," he said, and slid his eyes over in time to see Sniper's pleased expression.

"Hey, you did half the work," said Sniper. Without the mask in the way, he'd had a full view of Spy's expression as it flicked from horror to disgust to embarassment to amusement and back again. It was…adorable.

Spy cleared his throat and, frowning up at the dark sky, said "I do not think it would be a good idea for either of us to return to our usual quarters tonight. If anyone remembers us enough to want to find us, it would be best to not be, well, findable."

Sniper hesitated, and went for broke. "Camper's right over the hill," he said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. "We could drive out into the desert for the weekend."

He did not say it was so near at hand because for a few wild minutes there he'd been preparing to shoot through both teams to extract Spy and haul him off to safety.

But from the way Spy was eyeing him, he thought he might have figured that out anyway.

Carefully looking away, Sniper continued dryly, "I don't think you'll have any trouble at all making yourself at home."

Spy smiled with genuine pleasure, and those crow's feet crinkled. "I think I should like that very much. It has both heating and air conditioning, correct? How luxurious."

Sniper grinned lopsidedly up at him. "Only the best. Assuming no one has been fiddling with the settings? Again?"

Spy sniffed. "That sounds unpleasantly like labor. I am an artiste."

"Right," said Sniper, and rubbed his chin. "And if any arc-teats could tell me where my razor ran off to, we could make a pretty trip of it."

Spy raised his eyebrows in mock astonishment. "Why, behind your ear, of course!"

With his best sleight of hand, he palmed the little rosewood razor out of its inner pocket and plucked it from behind Sniper's ear. Flourishing like a child's birthday magician, he made it dance over his knuckles before tossing it over.

Sniper snorted. "Ah, of course, I should've thought to look there. It was keeping company with my sense of dignity and childhood aspirations, I 'spect." Sniper's thumb caressed the worn handle, then tucked it away into his breast pocket.

"Naturally," said Spy, and hesitated, wistful. "Perhaps you could merely trim and tidy? You do look rather fetching with a beard."

Despite himself, he reached out and ran his hand along Sniper's jaw, as he'd been secretly aching to do with an ungloved hand for what felt like an eternity now.

"Maybe," Sniper said a little breathlessly, feeling rather like he'd walked into the pole again. "But the next time the toilet paper mysteriously vanishes before its time, this beard is going to the top of the hit list."

Spy touched the back of his hand to his forehead in a mock swoon. "Truly, you are the cruelest of brutes, Sniper. But I accept."

He flicked his eyes out from under the hand and met Sniper's, glinting with amusement.

After a long moment, they broke eye contact. Sniper cleared his throat. "Don't suppose you have anything else in that jacket of yours? Is it nothing but pockets in there?"

Spy hesitated. "Well…" He sheepishly pulled out the thoroughly crushed hat he'd lifted from Sniper all those weeks ago.

With a sense of déjà vu, he then tugged the rose out of his buttonhole and tucked it into the hatband. "One cannot help but notice you are currently underdressed…"

Sniper straightened in shock. "How did you -! Wait, no, best not to ask -"

He took it, beat out the bigger dents, and donned it with a grin.

And Spy had to admit, he looked far better in it than it did hanging around in his pocket all day.

There was another, bigger explosion. "COWER FOOLS! MERASMUS IS HERE!"

They looked at each other.

"So, the camper?"

"D'accord. At speed."

Spy rose to his feet in one smooth motion, and pulled Sniper up with him. He swept a grand bow, and kissed Sniper's hand as though they were at a white-tie ballroom dance rather than fleeing an irate wizard in the middle of dusty nowhere.

Sniper's face felt hot, but he couldn't help but grin down at him.

"Lead on, mon petit loup," murmured Spy against his hand, and darted a laughing look up at Sniper through his lashes.

—-—

As they walked off into the moonrise, Spy snaked an arm around Sniper's waist. "It occurs that it's been quite some time since your previous embrace. Does this count, do you think?"

With deliberation, Sniper said, "Mmm, not sure, possum. You should do it more, I'll letcha know."

He slung his own arm over Spy's shoulders. To get it out of the way, of course.

He didn't, though, have a convenient excuse for why he then pulled Spy in closer with it.

Spy smiled his most innocent smile, and for once it was truly, genuinely earnest. "We shall simply have to experiment."


A/N:

Oh look, a little hug between enemies!

Sniper...you literally coulda asked anyone on your team for a hug this whole time. They would've been totally fine with it, especially if you, I don't know, explained?

jumalauta - Finnish; lit. "God help me," but more profane in practice (so more like "goddamn it")

Qui se croit sage est un grand fou - French; "A great fool is he who thinks himself wise."

у пичку материну (u pičku materinu) - Macedonian Greek; lit. "up your mom's pussy," but more generally used as an interjection or an intensifier. Spy is using it in the former sense, so something like "holy shit."


Scunt Fanfiction - Yes at long last, we get to indulge all my sappy urges! xD And yeah, that's a good name haha

bingus1man - They would literally sit there all night talking about ballet and opera if they could, the big ol' dorks. I have a feeling that going forward some of their time on the battlefield is going to be devoted to putting down the guns and picking up the playbills.


END-OF-FIC NONSENSE:

If you're reading this, thank you so much for sticking with me for this whole journey :D Especially to everyone who commented - you made writing and posting this a really enjoyable experience for me!

-About The Ending-

I do hope no one is disappointed that we don't go farther here. I really like the place it ends and have Writerly Reasons (tm) for not showing what happens after this scene, but I totally understand if you were hoping for more on-screen. Feel free to chat with me in the comments about it! I'm curious to see what y'all think worked or didn't work.

-Looking Ahead-

At present I don't have a direct sequel planned, and I don't want to do the classic fan fiction author move of promising something grand and then never posting again. However - I do have two smaller projects in the works at the moment. One is a oneshot sequel, and one is...I guess technically an AU? Suffice to say that they are both very dumb, and if you liked this fic but wanted more fluff/romance, you might like them too.

Anyway... thanks y'all :)