Hi everyone! Welcome back to another chapter! I don't want to spoil anything, but things do get a little heated in a homosexual sense in this chapter, just so you know.
Also, shout out to my one reviewer Rosewick267, you are amazing and I love hearing from you!
Click the blue link for a surprise ;)
One uncomfortable hour later, Scout was back on his feet and wandering through the halls of the base. His feet barely hurt anymore, courtesy of the medi-gun, but Medic had insisted on pulling all of the glass shards out of his feet with tweezers. The process had been both slow and painful, but Scout had a feeling that the Doctor had wanted it that way.
He hadn't let his pain show, of course, but the moment Medic had declared him 'healed', he had jumped off the table with a hasty thanks and fled.
Now, there was 3 hours left until the match, and Scout was feeling incredibly restless after the amount of time he had spent off his feet. Itching for something to do, he headed back to his room, keeping an eye out for Sniper along the way.
But there was no sign of the marksman, and Scout found himself a little disappointed. It had been so exciting, never knowing where Sniper was, and the adrenaline that pounded through his veins when the man was chasing him. The absence of his friend likely meant he was planning something new, and Scout wasn't sure if he should be excited or nervous.
Desperate to get out his pent up energy, Scout slapped the door of his room shut and started tossing the clothes strewn about his room into his long-neglected laundry basket. He was no basketball player, but his aim was pretty good, he thought, as he watched balled up shirts and socks land haphazardly in the laundry basket.
He reached for the basket to walk to the laundry room, but then remembered that he had spent the night cramped in a musty trunk, after sprinting all day. A quick sniff of his shirt solidified the notion that he needed to wash his clothes.
Rummaging through his boxes of possessions, Scout dug out clean pants, a shirt, and knee socks, but when he came to the box that usually held his boxers, he was surprised to find only one piece of clothing left. He hadn't done laundry in a few weeks, so he figured he shouldn't be surprised.
However, the only underwear left in his box was a pair of silky, red panties. One of his older brothers had bought them as a joke to make fun of Scout's small size, but when he was certain no one would find out, Scout had worn them a few times. He would never admit it, but the panties were extremely comfortable and easy to run in, probably because there was less restriction on his legs.
He could just keep wearing the boxers he already had on, however, if he wore the panties while the clothes were in the wash, he wouldn't have to do laundry for another month afterwards. Going commando was an option too, but his black pants were made of a sturdy enough material that he got chafed pretty badly the one time he had tried.
Feeling slightly embarrassed even though no one could see him, Scout pulled off his clothes and chucked them into the basket. The cool, silky material brushed against his ass and inner thighs as he dragged them up his body, carefully tucking his dick inside them. He knew the lines couldn't be seen through his pants, but he still felt naughty as he pulled the rest of his clothes on, hiding the panties from view.
Grabbing the laundry basket, Scout vowed to finish his laundry as soon as possible, and spend the entire time that he was waiting sitting down.
However, the moment he walked into the laundry room, Scout's entire plan blew up in his face. Sniper was standing in the laundry room, leaning casually against the wall. When he saw Scout, the marksman pushed off the wall immediately and began to walk towards him.
"How're your feet feelin', bun?"
Scout shuffled his feet. "Fine, now. Hurt like a bitch when Medic pulled the glass out though."
"Can't say I'm surprised." The Australian answered, getting closer to the runner. "Why don't you come 'ere and let me make sure yer okay?"
Scout took a step back. "Nah, I'm good."
"C'mon, mate, I feel bad about ya getting hurt on my account…"
"Don't-don't worry about it, man." Scout muttered, eyeing him suspiciously. His hands tightened on the laundry basket.
When Sniper tried to lunge for him, the runner threw the entire basket at him, sweaty clothes that had spent far too long lying on the ground raining down on him as Scout took off.
Unlike the night before, as Scout pounded through one of the hallways, brushing past a confused and amused Demoman, Sniper did not follow.
Scout decided to avoid the storage room (and the jars), and instead ran down the hallway leading past the bedrooms, pantry, and Spy's smoking room. He wanted to get out of the building, but if he went outside right next to the laundry room, there might very well be another hole waiting for him to fall into.
He came to one of the side exits, a fairly inconspicuous wooden door that led out towards the road. He wasn't sure exactly where he was going, but Scout was always able to think clearer when he was in an open space, and it would be easier to spot Sniper.
Scout slipped out into the desert, looking at the roofs with much more discernment than usual. When he saw no one, the runner took off, darting between rocks and buildings as he hurried away.
He wasn't sure exactly where he was going, but the runner was wary of his proximity to the BLU base as he quickly crossed the small road supply trucks used to bring food and ammunition from Mann Co. He decided to hide amongst the small mesas and boulders North West of the base; he would be harder to spot, and he didn't see Sniper lurking on any of the tan landmasses ahead of him.
It had been nearly mid day when Scout had left the RED base, and his body was quickly feeling the effects of running in the New Mexico sun. Realizing that the day's match was going to be unusually difficult due to the early warm weather, Scout decided that waiting in the shade of one of the boulders was his best option while he waited for Sniper to appear.
It was also possible that the Australian had no intention of following him at all, and had only shown up in the laundry room to throw Scout off his game. That was probably his plan all along, Scout thought, to make Scout think he was being chased so that he'd run through the desert and come back to the base tired and an easier target. He leaned against one of the shorter mesas, satisfied that he'd managed to outsmart Sniper, even if no one was there to witness it. He'd have to lord it over Snipes later, when it was safe to get close to him.
Before he had time to dwell on the look on Sniper's face when he returned to the base relaxed and rested, an arrow came whistling through the air, and embedded itself in his shirt and the mesa behind him.
Scout jolted to attention, his hands snapping up into his classic 'startled karate' pose. Not that his hands would do much good against arrows. He glanced quickly at the arrow piercing his shirt, next to his ribcage. The fletching on the arrow was red, which meant that the BLU Sniper wasn't trying to take him out when respawn was off.
But that was the good news. The bad news was that their Sniper was perched somewhere out of his view, shooting at him, and the arrow pinning his shirt to the mesa was probably not the last of its kind.
This particular guess was proved correct a few seconds later when a second arrow slammed into the mesa, once again catching Scout's shirt, only on the other side of his torso this time.
"Shit." The runner's search for Sniper on the surrounding rooftops became a little more frantic as the realization dawned on him that if the first two arrows had flanked him, the third was likely aiming for the middle…of his chest.
Still unable to find his friend, Scout decided he didn't want to stick around to find out where Sniper was aiming, so he began to yank at the arrow pinning the left side of his shirt down, attempting to pull it out of the mesa.
"Damn it, Snipes, why'd ya have to use so much force?" he muttered. The arrow was wedged deeply enough that he couldn't generate enough force in his awkward position to pull it free.
He was about to attempt the same with the second arrow, when a third came streaking through the air to land a few inches to the left of his head. With Sniper's deadly accuracy, Scout knew it couldn't be a mistake, so he took it for what it was: a warning shot.
The runner froze for a moment, just in case Sniper was about to release another shot. He was loathe to admit it, but he'd rather have another arrow pinning him in place that have one pierce his skin because he was stupid enough to move into its path.
But nothing happened. Everything was still, even as Scout stared at the rooftops nearby, daring Sniper to show himself. Wherever the Australian was, he was well hidden and likely watching Scout struggle with amusement.
This thought caused anger to flare up in Scout's chest, and he resumed yanking at the arrow to his left, far more aggressively than before. He wasn't going to give Sniper the satisfaction of sitting back and watching him squirm; if Sniper wanted him, he could come down and get him!
A particularly vicious yank caused a section of fabric near the arrow to tear, and Scout, impulsive as he was, made a quick decision. Instead of attempting to pull the arrow out, he yanked himself sideways until his shirt was free of the arrow.
His red shirt was essentially in tatters, so he shrugged out of it, already heading for more cover from whatever Sniper was planning to launch at him next.
The fact that he was shirtless hardly bothered him; Scout looked good and he knew it. Let Sniper be jealous of his awesome bod as he made his escape, god only knew the man would benefit from actually working out once in a while.
Still scanning the high ground for the marksman, Scout made the mistake of not looking in front of him as he darted around a bolder-and plowed straight into Sniper.
The Australian caught him by the forearms. "Now where do you think you're goin'?"
Scout tried to break out of his grip, but found little success. "None a your business!"
Sniper's hands had a vice grip on his wrists by that point. "I'd let ya be on your way, but first, how about ya hold still for me?"
"No!" Scout dug his feet into the ground to avoid being dragged closer to Sniper. The further away he was, the harder it would be for the man to get a better hold on him.
"Aw, come on, Roo, it's only ten seconds." He chuckled a little. "Holding still for ten seconds won't kill ya."
"Nah, but you would!" Scout snapped back, wrenching his hand free by focusing the force on Sniper's thumb. It wasn't his first time being grabbed by someone stronger, and he knew the weak spots to hit to escape.
The marksman reacted with slight surprise, but didn't release his grip on Scout's other hand. That is, until Scout kicked him hard in the shin. The blow itself didn't do any permanent damage, but it did hurt enough that Sniper doubled over for a moment, giving Scout a chance to back away.
However, he recovered much faster than Scout expected and even had the nerve to smile at him. "So you want to play rough, ya little mongrel?"
Scout jerked his chin at him. "When do I not?"
Sniper laughed again, that stupid smirk still plastered on his face.
He thought this was fun? Before Sniper had a chance to react, the runner was flying at him, furiously shouting "Stop fuckin smiling!"
Luckily for Sniper, Scout didn't have his bat with him, but the younger man was still attacking him with intensity, attempting to punch him wherever he could reach. He managed to land a few good hits, too, but Sniper gave as good as he got, and punched Scout both in the stomach and the shoulder, knocking him slightly off balance.
Before Scout could counter again, Sniper wrapped his long arms around the smaller body in a bear hug position, his chest against Scout's bare back. The runner's chest heaved as he squirmed and fought against the Australian's grip, but Sniper did not relent.
"Let go of me, Snipes!"
"Hold still!" The marksman growled back.
"Let go!"
Scout drove one of his elbows into Sniper's side, causing his grip to loosen as a burst of pain shot through his ribs. Unwilling to let his quarry escape so easily, he grasped at any part of the runner's body that was still within reach.
Unfortunately for Scout, Sniper's hand made contact with the waist of his pants, yanking on them as Scout continued his path forwards. He didn't even realize what had happened until he felt a slight breeze on his hips that hadn't been present moments before.
"Did you just try to pants me?" he yelled at Sniper, who had released his clothes and was looking almost as surprised as he felt.
His pants had caught partway down his hips, so Scout believed that he had been spared the worst outcome of becoming trapped with his pants around his ankles, but when he reached down to pull them back up, he realized it was even worse.
His red panties, which he had completely forgotten he was wearing, stuck out like a beacon against his pale skin and black pants. His pants hadn't fallen enough to reveal his crotch, but the style of the underwear peeking out was unmistakable, and one look at Sniper told him the man knew exactly what he was wearing.
The Australian didn't say a word, but he continued to stare at Scout with a mixture of embarrassment and something else that Scout couldn't identify.
Wrenching his pants back up, the runner felt his face beginning to heat up.
"You didn't see nothin'!" he cried, giving Sniper what he hoped was a threatening look before bolting back to the base as fast as he could. He didn't look back to see if the older man was following him, but if he had, he would have seen Sniper still standing in the same place. Looking completely flummoxed as he stared at the spot where Scout had been standing.
"You have all failed me!" The Administrator's harsh voice rang over the loudspeakers as the RED team filed back into the locker room after a particularly harsh match.
Scout yanked off his cap, the stale air of the locker room hitting his sweaty hair. The rest of the team slogged over to their lockers, some slamming the metal doors in frustration, others more subdued and quiet, taking the loss with grace.
Scout had never taken anything with grace in his life.
He had been off his game that day, missing easy targets and more than once running around a corner straight into a heavier class. It was his own damn fault too; Scout was still humiliated from his encounter with Sniper, even more so because he hadn't had time to retrieve his laundry and change before the match had started.
No matter where he ran on the field, he swore he could feel eyes boring a hole through his head. The runner spent most of the match trying to quell the unnerving feeling of being watched through a scope by hiding in buildings and diving into fights, which more often than not resulted in his death. He also refused to stand in the open on a control point, and he didn't jump between roofs either. This decrease in his ability to manoeuvre quickly ultimately hurt his team even more, and Scout knew that their loss was partially his fault.
So he looked for someone else to blame. Storming over to Spy, the shorter man shoved his finger into the Frenchman's chest. "Where the fuck were ya today, man?"
Spy looked disgusted and knocked his hand away. "I beg your pardon?"
"Really coulda used a backstab a couple times, but ya were nowhere ta be seen."
"Zat is my job, Scout, not to be seen." the man responded in a condescending tone.
"What, so ya were invisible smoking a cigar somewhere and watchin the rest of us get flattened?"
"Actually…he helped me out a couple times today." Engineer spoke up from the corner.
"Aye, I saw him target the BLU Sniper and Spy once or twice maself." Demo agreed, his face neutral as he reached for a fresh bottle of scrumpy.
"I took care of ze sneakiest enemies so ze rest of you could take out ze attack classes and capture ze points." He glared down at Scout. "Which, as you are constantly reminding us, is your forte, non?"
The runner tried to interrupt, but Spy was relentless. "And yet, you captured a total of, what was zit again, ah yes, ZERO control points! So, boy, ze question iz not where was I, ze question iz where were YOU?"
"I-uh-I don't have to explain nothin to you!" Scout shouted, slamming his locker with an intensity to rival Heavy, and stormed out of the room.
"What's gotten into him?" Demo asked loudly, taking a swig of his drink. An eager eye turned to Sniper. "Did you catch him, lad? That would certainly piss him off."
"Came bloody close." Sniper muttered, not looking up from tying his boot.
"So leetle Scout got away again?" Heavy chuckled. "Good for him."
"What did the maggot do, talk you to a standstill?" Soldier called from across the room.
The Australian stood up, his expression unreadable behind his glasses. "He coight me off guard…"
With that, Sniper loped out of the room, leaving the other mercs to stare at each other with bemused expressions.
Pyro muttered under their mask "What does that mean?", but only Engineer was close enough to hear them.
Heavy slapped Demo on the back. "It is not looking good for you to win bet, comrade."
Demo spat out his liquor from the force of the blow, narrowly missing Spy's tailored suit.
Spy gave the Scot a look that could have killed a lesser man on the spot, and swept from the room, muttering "Je suis entouré par des idiots."
Scout was halfway back to his room, head swirling with embarrassment and anger, when he realized that antagonizing the other mercs may not have been the smartest choice, particularly in Sniper's case.
The marksman had something on him now, something that, if shared, would likely cause Scout to have to leave Teufort immediately. Scout didn't want to believe that Sniper would use what he had seen to blackmail him into forfeiting the bet or anything else, for that matter, but he wasn't completely sure.
The amount of times he had seen Sniper truly angry added up to the day Sniper had thrown his plate against the wall, and one other time, when Sniper had been killed by the BLU Spy 5 times in the same match.
And both times, the Australian had shown a brief burst of anger and aggression, followed by a deadly quiet that would last until the next day. Scout wasn't sure if he wanted to find out what would happen if Sniper's anger was ever directed at him.
Scout paused in the hallway, his heart rate picking up as he considered this possibility. Sniper was his friend, and the man almost never over reacted, especially not in such a personal way. But still, he had the power to destroy Scout socially if he made a wrong step.
Pivoting on his heel, Scout headed away from his room and towards one of the exits that opened close to Sniper's campervan. Snipes was a reasonable guy, he thought. If he appealed to him, maybe sucked up a bit, he could convince him not to tell anyone what he had seen.
'Unless he already did.' A little voice in the back of his head whispered, but the runner pushed it aside and hurried out into the desert.
As he ran through the sand, kicking up small clouds which caught in his socks and slipped into his shoes, Scout spotted Sniper only a few feet away from his camper.
"Snipes! Hey Snipes, wait up!" he called out, quickening his pace when the taller man stopped walking to glance behind him.
"Oh hey, Bun, didn't think you'd come around here right now. Ya know, with the bet an' all." He started walking towards the camper again once Scout caught up. "Glad ya did, though. Do you want to come in or sit out here?"
Scout immediately felt awkward. "This…uh, this ain't a social visit, Snipes. I need to talk to ya about somethin."
Sniper immediately looked serious and gestured to the weather beaten lawn chairs next to his camper. Scout hesitantly sat.
"Is this about what happened today?" Sniper asked slowly.
Not trusting his voice, Scout nodded.
"It ain't that big a deal, mate."
The runner looked at him in astonishment. "It's not?"
Sniper seemed more relaxed as he leaned back in his chair. "Nah, it wasn't the first time you and the spook have had it out with each other, and it won't be the last, I'd bet."
Scout's heart sank. Of course Sniper would assume that he was talking about the scene he had made after the match. Or he was feigning ignorance to force Scout to confirm what he had seen. Either way, Scout decided to rip the bandaid off and ask him, even if it meant never being to look Sniper in the eyes again.
"No, Snipes, I ain't talkin about that."
"Then wut-"
"When you grabbed me earlier, what you saw, did you tell anyone about it?" The runner blurted out before Sniper could finish.
After a moment's pause, the marksman replied with "What are you talking about?"
Scout jumped out of his seat and glared down at him with a mixture of defense and disbelief. "What the fuck man, ya saw, I know ya did! Why are ya playin dumb?"
Sniper shifted in his chair, but wouldn't meet Scout's eyes. "I didn't see nothing."
Scout paused, ready to yell at him again, until his own words from that morning replayed in his mind. He eyed Sniper suspiciously.
"Wait…if ya saw nothin, that means you don't have anything to tell anyone about…right?"
"That's roight." Sniper responded nonchalantly.
Scout perked up instantly. "Aw man, thanks Snipes, I appreciate it!" He reached over and socked the older man in the upper arm, causing him to jolt upright and attempt to grab the runner in retaliation.
But Scout was already off and running back towards the base, shouting over his shoulder "See ya later, Stretch!"
As soon as the younger man was out of sight, Sniper rose from the chair and shoved open the door to his camper van, closing it behind him quickly and resting his head against it.
The fact that Scout hadn't seen right through his facade was a miracle.
His pants felt tight, the air in his camper was hot and stifling against his body. The Australian pulled off his hat and vest, but it did little to quell the need that had been building up in his body all day.
Ever since he had seen Scout in those little red panties that morning, he hadn't been able to think of anything else.
He hadn't even gotten a very good look, but the image of the red fabric clinging to Scout's slim hips, and the texture of the silky fabric that had brushed against his fingertips wouldn't leave his mind.
Sniper loosened his belt, hoping to take some of the pressure off his increasing hard length. When that didn't help, he gave in and undid the front of his pants entirely, something he had been desperate to do since his half-naked teammate had run away from him in the desert that morning.
It had been worse during the match. Scout had escaped from him barely 15 minutes before the match, and that meant the runner would barely have time to throw on an intact shirt before being dragged down to the spawn point for Soldier's daily pre-battle speech. The knowledge that Scout was running around on the battlefield being his cocky, annoying, undeniably adorable self while wearing those skimpy little things had haunted him in his perch.
Everytime he thought he would be able to focus on his job, he would prepare to take the shot and a small red blur would rush through his vision and completely throw him off again. He ended up spending the entire fight half hard and hornier than he'd been in months, which brought down his kill count significantly. It was a wonder he hadn't put down his rifle altogether and jerked off in his tower, just to relieve the tension thrumming through his body.
The marksman sat down heavily on his bed, feeling his neglected cock throb eagerly between his legs. His hand reached out to close around himself, but hesitated.
Jerking off to a coworker crossed a boundary that he had never dreamed of even brushing against. He would have to see Scout the next morning, look him in the eyes, talk to him, all while knowing that he had come to the thought of him.
Then again, his relationship with Scout had been anything but conventional, especially for the last few days.
And then that morning, he had had Scout in his arms, completely naked from the waist up, while his panty-covered ass brushed against Sniper's cock.
With a strangled groan, the Australian threw his doubts aside and gripped himself firmly, flopping onto his back as he did so. He cursed himself for not shooting any of his arrows into Scout's pants, if only for the chance of Scout tearing those off of himself as well. That would have left him only in his socks, shoes, and those delicious little panties…
Sniper's hand sped up as his breathing became more ragged.
But Scout would have rather died than willingly reveal his secret, so he would have stayed put, giving Sniper a chance to close the distance between them. All he would need to do was press his body against the smaller one, pinning Scout to the mesa for 10 seconds, and the bet would be won.
But he wouldn't let Scout go; the boy had promised to do whatever he asked, and suddenly, Sniper knew exactly what he would ask for.
The marksman shoved his pants halfway down his legs so he could jerk off uninhibited, his mind producing intimate images of his teammate.
He would open Scout's pants, lowering them enough that his panties would become visible. The runner would moan and grasp at his shoulders as Sniper dipped his hand inside of his pants to stroke him through the silky fabric.
"You like that, don't ya?" the marksman ground out.
His mind supplied him with Scout's breathy response. "Yesss…oh, fuck Snipes, don't stop!"
He imagined pulling down Scout's black pants just enough that he would be able to admire his slim body, his panties bulging in the front as his body responded to Sniper's touch. Scout's legs would be trapped by the fabric bunched around his legs, not that he would be trying to escape anymore.
Once he got over his surprise at being touched, Scout would regain that mouth of his and start demanding that Sniper hurry up and touch him already. But Sniper enjoyed taking his time, especially when he'd caught something so delicious.
He would silence Scout's cries with his own mouth, and use both hands to rub him through his panties. Then, he would pull him away from the mesa by wrapping both hands around Scout's body and gripping his ass to haul him flush against his body. From what he had seen, Scout had an amazing ass.
He wondered if the firm cheeks looked as tempting as he imagined cupped in the red silk. Sniper's hand pumped desperately on his cock, he wanted to turn Scout around and push him against the mesa so he could massage the perky globes. Maybe smack them a few times as retaliation for teasing him by running around in those sinful little panties all day.
Sniper wasn't going to last much longer, and the Scout in his fantasy wouldn't either as he pleaded "C'mon Snipes, touch me, I need it so bad-fuck!"
In his mind, Sniper pulled down Scout's panties and his own pants as fast as humanly possible, and slotted his cock between Scout's ass cheeks. He didn't enter the runner, now wasn't the time, but one hand snaked around to grip Scout's neglected cock, the other bracing on the wall in front of them.
The pace that Scout thrust into his hand matched that of Sniper's hand on his own cock, and he imagined Scout getting close, his voice becoming high and needy. "Snipes…I-aah..I'mgonna-mmm-I'm gonna come!"
"That's it, luv…So bloody good for me…" The Australian groaned out, just as his orgasm hit. His whole body shook with his climax, and he vaguely heard Scout's name leave his throat through his euphoria.
But as the afterglow faded, guilt quickly took its place. Using the hand that hadn't been stroking his length, Sniper wiped his sweaty hair out of his face.
Scout was his mate, the person who probably knew him the best in the desolate gravel pit they were fighting over, and he had just come to the thought of him naked and coming in his hand. The runner didn't deserve this, he probably didn't even know what he was doing to Sniper.
But as the post-orgasm haze left him, Sniper began to think more critically. What if it hadn't been an accident that Scout had been wearing panties that day? Revealing them had certainly been one, but what if Scout wore them because he knew that Sniper would be chasing him, and likely touching him?
Had he purposely kept them on during the match to drive Sniper mad with lust everytime he caught a glimpse of him?
With Scout, it was impossible to be sure, but the sight of his panties had certainly caught Sniper off guard, which couldn't happen again.
Dragging himself up to clean off, Sniper contemplated his plans for the next day. He still needed to get a few things, but he was confident that the bet would be won the next day.
And if Scout decided to wear his panties again, then that would just make his conquest even sweeter.
As with any hunt, there were still unknown variables, but Sniper did know one thing-tomorrow was going to be interesting.
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