Back from the dead and reporting for duty! I have managed to keep a fairly regular updating schedule so far, however next week I am starting a practicum, and so I might not be as consistent in my updates. However, there are only a few chapters left, so I will not be abandoning this story under any circumstances.
"Whoo!" Scout shouted happily, the wind whipping his hair as he drove his bike along the Teufort highway. With the constant battles and unrelenting heat of the area, he rarely got the chance to ride his motorbike.
But when the team had got the message that a ceasefire was happening that day, Scout had rushed out to the garage and hit the open road.
And even though his main motivation was just to get off of the base for a while, he had to admit that he was also avoiding Sniper.
When he'd entered the dining room that morning, still thinking there would be a match, the first thing he'd done was pick out Sniper amongst the chaos that was breakfast. Only dinner was a team affair, the mercenaries were responsible for their own food at breakfast and lunch, unless they decided to share.
Engineer was partial to hearty breakfasts that reminded him of home, and that morning he had been eating eggs, hash browns, and bacon at the table with Pyro, who was messily eating a large bowl of sugary cereal.
Spy was reading the paper at the other end of the table, a cafe latte sitting on the table in front of him. Behind him, Demoman was sprawled on the couch, likely sleeping off his hangover, while Soldier was attempting to rouse him and get something in his stomach before the match. Likely the incredibly hard biscuits that Soldier was so fond of, Scout had no idea how the man hadn't cracked all of his teeth yet.
But when Scout spotted Sniper, sitting in one of the old armchairs and clutching his coffee mug like a lifeline, he forgot about everyone else. The man looked like he had barely slept, and knowing Sniper, this could very well have been the case.
But all Scout could see was the man who had been on top of him the night before, the man who he'd kissed, and despite himself, wanted to kiss again. When Sniper's eyes drifted up to lock with his, the runner felt his face start to colour, and immediately backed out of the room again without eating.
His stomach growling brought him back to the present. First order of business on his little road trip was to get something to eat.
Giving the engine a little rev, Scout shook off his thoughts about Sniper, and focused on the town in the distance.
Teufort was a small mid western town, almost like something out of a movie. If someone put in hitching posts and saloon doors on the pub, a duel at high noon would have looked right at home.
New Mexico was fairly flat, but Scout still relished driving up and down the small rolling hills, especially when he picked up speed enough to catch a little air as the road sloped down.
Everyone else on the team insisted he drove too recklessly, but driving a motorcycle had always felt natural to Scout. They were small, and light, and very maneuverable, like him, so it made sense why he had gravitated towards them years ago. Of course, they were also fairly dangerous to ride, but that was how Scout had always lived, so he didn't see the problem.
Roaring down the hill, Scout slowed down a little as he entered the town, not that there was much traffic. Even though they were roughly 45 minutes (30 by motorbike) away from the RED base, Teufort was still very much in the middle of nowhere.
Scout pulled the bike into a spot off the main road, hopped off, and wandered towards the various shops lining the street. He wasn't worried about anyone stealing the bike, the REDs and BLUs were the only people within miles that could be accused of breaking the law. And even if someone did, he had more than enough money to get a new one, despite the fact that most of his sizable paycheck went home to his family.
Half an hour later, Scout was back outside, eating a bagel as he wandered along the street. There really wasn't much to do in Teufort other than eat, but he was glad to be outside without having to worry about being shot at.
As he was cramming the rest of the 'everything' bagel into his mouth, a rusty van came careening down the street, sending pedestrians scattering. The vehicle screeched into a parking space not far from Scout, who approached it cautiously. The BLU team may have come to cause havoc, and he didn't want to be caught alone if that was the case.
But as he got closer, the runner heard Engineer and Demo arguing, and relaxed a little. He could see Heavy crammed in the back as though he was inside a clown car, with Medic beside him looking fed up with the entire ordeal.
"What in the sam hell was that?" Engineer was demanding of the Scotsman, who Scout could barely see.
"Ya stopped watchin' thee road! I didnae want ta die today, so I took tha wheel!"
"I just looked away for a second!" The Texan argued back.
"You were reading blueprint while driving!" Heavy put in from the backseat. "Put us all in danger!"
"I have 11 PhD's, ya think I don't know how to multitask?"
"Gentlemen, enough!" Medic shoved open the rear door, looking uncharacteristically disheveled. "Get me out ov here-oh, hello Herr Scout."
"Hey Doc, what happened to ya?"
The German fixed his hair. "A mix of distracted and drunk driving, it vould seem. Misha is driving us back-do not argue vith me!" His voice pitched up when Engineer attempted to do just that.
Heavy extracted himself from the backseat with a little difficulty. "That is not comfortable. Heavy will be glad to sit in front."
Scout laughed a little, making sure that the Russian wouldn't take it as an insult. "Ya alright there, big guy?"
"Yes, Heavy is just stiff." He gave Medic a sly look. "Maybe Doktor can help vith that later?"
Medic grinned back, looking just as suggestive. "Vhy, I think I just might…"
Scout suddenly became very interested in the cloudless sky, taking a few awkward, shuffling steps. "Okay, cool, I'm just gonna-"
"Scout."
Scout stopped in his tracks. Damn it, they'd brought Sniper with them.
"Oh, uh, heeyy Snipes…" he glared at Heavy and Medic. "Did you have to bring him?"
Medic was not the slightest bit sympathetic. "It iz more vun this way, don't you think?"
Engineer hopped out of the front of the car. "Demo's gone an' passed out."
Medic sighed. "Vell, he iz vhy ve are out of alcohol, so I am not surprised. Just leave him here, he vill be fine."
Scout, who was still eyeing Sniper like a skittish animal, tried to keep the other mercenaries between himself and the sharpshooter. "Is that why ya guys came out here?"
"Yea, came to stock up on booze, an' some other things since we're here."
Heavy looked over at Sniper. "What did you want, comrade, rabbit, was it?"
"Yea…" Sniper uttered, still staring down Scout who was starting to sweat. The marksman seemed incredibly serious, and once again had become completely unreadable to Scout. That wasn't good, since he still had no idea how Sniper felt about their…interaction the night before.
The marksman might very well be looking to punch him, or yell at him for coming onto him. But a small part of Scout hoped that Sniper was coming after him again because he had liked the kiss, and now he wanted more. However, it was unlikely, and he was not willing to run the risk of the marksman catching him just for the hope of some action.
Harnessing his ever-present cockiness, Scout laughed sarcastically. "Haha, real funny. Shouldn't ya be off buying carrots if ya want to catch a bunny?"
"If it'll get ya to come to me, I just moight…" Was the response he got, as Sniper stepped past the rest of the group. He took a few steps towards Scout, but kept a little distance as though the runner might spook if he came to close.
"What ya did last night…ya changed the game permanently, ya know that?" Sniper said, quietly enough for the rest of the group not to hear.
"Thought I might'a scared ya off." Scout shot back, smiling a little. Sniper didn't seem angry, so that was good, right?
"Never." Sniper was smiling now, too. "Now I want to catch ya even more, Bun."
Scout started to walk backwards, arms outstretched. "Come and get me then, bushman!"
Sniper started running an instant before Scout did, but the younger man still managed to outpace him and darted between the buildings closest to them.
However, when Sniper did not appear for a few moments, his curiosity took over, and the runner crept back to peek around the building.
Sniper was standing next to his bike, and Engineer was tossing something to him-was that a chain? Scout watched in astonishment as the marksman chained his bike to a metal pole, complete with a padlock, effectively stranding him in town unless he stole the team's van. And he wasn't about to do that, knowing how much it would piss off Medic and Heavy.
"Hey, hardhat, I thought ya wanted me ta win!" He shouted from his hiding place.
"Just evenin' the odds a little, pardner, ya understand." The Texan responded.
While Scout had been distracted by Engineer, Sniper had taken the opportunity to slip closer to his prey, but Scout noticed him and rushed away down the alleyway, looking for a way to lose the Australian.
From behind him, he heard a deep voice say "Ohh, Heavy gets it now! Leetle Scout is rabbit Sniper wants!"
"Ja, Misha, zhat is right. Now, if ve are all caught up, can ve stop standing on the street and GET GOING?"
Scout rushed into Teufort's grocery store, almost knocking over a tower of cracker boxes as he did so. An elderly woman gave him a strange look, but Scout hardly cared.
Sniper was being surprisingly effective at tracking him, never letting Scout out of his sight for more than a few moments. He was never directly behind Scout, the runner was too fast for that, but the marksman was relentless, and Scout found himself craving a second to rest.
He hurried to the back of the store, which thankfully wasn't too busy, comforted by the chill radiating from the meat and dairy coolers. It was a brief relief after running in the desert sun for at least the past 15-20 minutes. Frankly, he wasn't sure that it hadn't been longer than that.
The buzzer at the front door signaled the entrance of another customer, which turned out to be Sniper, looking a little red in the face but no less determined than before.
Looking around wildly, Scout pushed through the small swinging door that led behind the meat counter, diving behind the glass display case.
As he crouched there, almost in a ball, Scout heard footsteps approaching and a woman's voice.
"If you're not a steak, you don't belong here." he looked up to see a dark skinned woman with long hair tied up in a bun looking at him suspiciously.
"Sorry, I'm-I'm hiding from a guy…"
The woman glanced over the counter. "Who, the tall drink a' water with the vest an' sunglasses?"
Scout nodded.
The woman, who's name tag said 'Kiki', shook her head. "Honey, why would anybody hide from a handsome man like that?" her eyes narrowed as a thought struck her. "He not treating you right?"
Scout turned red at her implications. "No, nothin' like that! But if he catches me, I have to do whatever he wants so…" he trailed off, realizing how strange he sounded.
Kiki, on the other hand, seemed to light up. "Ohh…sexy tag, huh? Okay honey, you can hide here as long as you want…or until my manager comes by."
Scout relaxed a little. "Thanks…"
A beat went by, and then Kiki breathed "Here he comes…" Then, in a louder voice she said, "Hi there, can I help you find anything?", really leaning into the word find.
"Yea, um…I'm looking for a boy actually…" Sniper sounded unbearably uncomfortable.
Kiki grinned a cunning smile. "If you want to eat a boy out, I'm afraid you've come to the wrong establishment, sir."
Scout stuffed a fist in his mouth to keep from laughing as Sniper spluttered out. "No Ma'am, that-that's not what I-I would never ask-"
Kiki took pity on him. "I'm sorry sweetie, you just looked so easy to tease…Tell me more about this boy you're looking for, maybe I've seen him?"
"Okay, um…" Sniper sounded a little suspicious of her now. "He's white, shorter than me, like this-" Scout assumed that Sniper was giving Kiki a visual aid, "-his eyes are blue, and his hair is light brown, but he wears it short and under a hat, so it's kinda hard to see…"
Kiki, to her credit, did not look down at Scout once during the exchange. She nodded as though she was processing this information, then asked calmly. "Is he cute, would you say?"
"Wut?" was all Sniper said.
"I see a lot of short, white boys, sir, I need more information than that to know if I've seen yours. Would you say he's cute?"
"I, uh…yea, he's-he's pretty cute."
Kiki wasn't finished. "Hot, maybe?"
When Sniper didn't answer right away, likely fidgeting uncomfortably, she plowed on. "Not hot then, okay…let me think if I've-"
"No, no, he's bloody hot too, alright?" Sniper interrupted. "He's a skinny little thing, but he looks so damn good, and his legs are bloody gorgeous. His eyes are this electric blue I've never seen anywhere else, and ya can always tell what he's feelin' by lookin' into them-"
The marksman caught himself, seeming to realize that he'd run his mouth a little. Kiki 'awwed'.
"Sir, by any chance would he-" she grabbed Scout by the collar of his shirt and hauled him up to his feet "-be what you're looking for?"
Sniper swallowed, registering that Scout had heard everything he'd just said. "Yea, that's-that's him."
Kiki released Scout's shirt, but whispered "Hun, whether he catches you or not, you've definitely got him."
When neither of them moved for a moment, Sniper awkwardly asked. "So uh, how much do you want for him?"
Kiki burst out laughing, but Scout was indignant. "Snipes! Ya can't give her money for me!"
"Roo…totally worth it." The sharpshooter told him, and Kiki 'awwed' again.
"Sorry sir, but this one," she gestured to Scout, "is free range, so you'll have to catch him yourself."
She walked over to the butcher section's door, and opened it. "Don't you even think that comin' behind this counter!" she directed this at Sniper, who looked like he was considering just that.
Kiki dragged Scout over to the open door leading outside. "I'd let him catch me if I was you, I think you'll have more fun…now go on and get!" she smacked Scout's ass lightly, sending him hurrying out the door.
The store clerk turned back to Sniper and gave him her best customer service smile. "He'll be just out the front door, to the left, and around the back, sir. It's a dead end back there so I would hurry before he figures that out."
Sniper snapped into action right away. "Thank you, Ma'am!" he called as he hurried away.
Kiki smiled and returned to packaging dried meats, muttering to herself, "They had better name one of their kids after me…"
Scout, meanwhile, had figured out pretty quickly what Kiki had done, when he found himself faced with dumpsters and walls on three sides of him. The only way out led onto the street, directly next to the store exit.
"Fat load of help ya were…" he muttered at the closed door he had just come out of.
Kiki had said that he should let Sniper catch him, she'd probably planned this whole thing, he thought.
And she'd planned it well. Once Sniper turned up at the end of the alley, which Scout assumed he'd do any minute, it would be very hard to get out of the alley without some sort of distraction.
Considering how slim the alley was, even if he tried to run past Sniper, he'd likely end up pressed against one of the walls, with Sniper's gravelly voice in his ear…and maybe his lips on Scout's neck…
Damn it, now he was getting hard. To distract himself, Scout looked around for another way out of the alley, before Sniper or anyone else caught him aroused and standing next to a bunch of garbage. Wait, the garbage…
Scout had caught sight of a fire escape leading to the top of the building on his right, but it stopped several feet above the ground. However, if he climbed onto one of the dumpsters, and jumped, he might be able to grab a hold of it.
It was risky, but that was how Scout lived, so he clambered up onto the rim of the dumpster with minimal aversion to the smell, gathered his strength, and jumped.
One of his forearms let out a small burst of pain as it knocked against the lower rungs of the fire escape, but he had jumped high enough to lock his arms around it.
His arms screamed in protest as he slowly moved his hands up the ladder, managing to get first one, and then the other foot onto a rung.
And just in time too, as Sniper came rushing into the alley seconds later, looking simultaneously shocked and impressed at Scout's position.
"Wow Bun, I didn't know you could jump THAT high!"
Scout let go with one hand, casually hanging back into the air a little. Sniper immediately tensed up and came closer, looking worried.
"Aw, this? Nah, I do this all tha time!" Scout said with a laugh. "Don't worry, man!"
"Easy fer ya to say…" The Australian muttered back.
Scout placed both hands back on the ladder and started to climb up to the roof. "Take a load off, Snipes. I'm gonna go check out the view up here, see ya later!"
"See ya soon!" Sniper called back, putting emphasis on the last word.
The runner scrambled up over the brick side of the roof, scraping his knee slightly in the process. But he paid it no mind, stumbling a little before standing up on the flat surface. The rooftop wasn't much to look at, none of the buildings in Teufort or the surrounding area really were, but the view of the surrounding desert was in fact very impressive.
The surrounding terrain was not completely flat, but enough that he could see a great distance in every direction. The blue sky was in beautiful contrast to the cliffs in the distance, which were striped with reds, browns, and whites. There was virtually no green to be seen in any direction, but there were still hints of life to be seen, mostly birds gliding lazily above him on their way to look for roadkill.
It was hardly picturesque, but New Mexico did make for a unique change of pace from the crowded, boisterous city he had grown up in. Of course, he would pick Boston over Teufort in a heartbeat, but he supposed the South Western town wasn't the worst place he could have been stationed either.
Hopping between rooftops with minimal effort, Scout sought out one that provided a little shade in the form of what looked like a small shed on the roof. Settling down into the small square of shade, the runner made himself comfortable, pulling his hat down over his eyes. He had nothing better to do for the next while, and no one was going to bother him on a roof, so he could catch a quick nap.
Or so he thought.
Scout was woken from his snooze by an amused, familiar voice. "Hey Roo, you alive?"
The runner jolted awake, knocking his hat off of his face so that he could look wildly around him. Sniper was standing in front of him, looking slightly embarrassed and holding two large ice cream cones.
"Jesus Snipes, ya get a kick out of scaring me or something?"
The marksman shook his head. "Consider it payback for your little acrobatics act in the alley way earlier. Ya just about gave me a heart attack when you let go of that bar."
Scout looked a little guilty, then suspicious. "Hey! How did ya get up here? And with those?" he gestured to the ice creams.
Sniper gave him a strange look. "There's…there's a door right there, Bun. How'd you get up here?"
"Jumped." Scout said simply, stretching out his legs.
Sniper shook his head. "Of course you did. Anyways, you better take this-" he extended one of the cones towards Scout "-before it melts."
The runner looked surprised, but perked up. "That's for me?"
"Well, if I eat both of them, I'll never sleep again…"
Scout stood up, but then hesitated. "Waiiitt…" he asked, drawing out the word. "This isn't a trap, is it? 'Cause if it is, I'll shove that in your face if ya come at me."
"Nah mate, I think we both just need a break. Tell ya what, truce: I won't try to catch you if you don't go runnin' off if I look at ya sideways?"
The runner thought about it for roughly half a second before the prospect of ice cream won out. "Deal! Thanks, man!" he swiped the vanilla cone from Sniper and sat back down, patting the spot next to him.
The taller man sat obligingly, their shoulders brushing lightly. Subconsciously, both mercenaries leaned into the touch.
It was quiet for a few minutes as both men ate. There wasn't really much to look at from their location: the street was completely out of view, and they were sitting too low to see beyond the rooves across the street from them.
Every 30 seconds or so, Scout's eyes would wander back to Sniper, who was by far the most interesting thing to watch. However, this quickly proved to be problematic for the runner as he was forced to watch the sharpshooter's tongue tracing the frozen dessert in his hand.
Occasionally, Sniper would also stop to lick his lips, and Scout had to edge away from Sniper's shoulder to hide the shivers that would run through his body.
But Scout was a competitive man, and refused to be out done by an Australian who probably didn't even know what he was doing. He copied Sniper's movements, laving his tongue over the ice cream, but the runner added exaggerated noises, slurps mostly.
The extra noise caught Sniper's attention, but Scout pretended not to notice, instead choosing to bear his whole mouth down onto the top of his ice cream. He didn't force the whole thing into his mouth, the dessert was too soft, but when he pulled away, he could feel the white cream on his lips.
Teasingly slowly, he stroked his tongue across his own lips, licking the ice cream away. Feeling emboldened by Sniper's eyes following his every movement, Scout stuck out his tongue again, catching a trickle of ice cream that had been melting down the cone.
Sniper swallowed thickly next to him, grey eyes fixed on the little pink tongue licking up the white ice cream. In his horny state of mind, it wasn't hard at all to imagine that Scout was licking up something else…stroking his tongue not over a crumbly, pastry cone, but hard flesh, aching for his mouth…
Sniper shivered a little himself, and before he could think better of it, ground out "When ya're finished with that, I have something else for you to lick…"
Scout looked startled for a moment, the picture of a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar, until he smiled a positively wicked grin. "I'm still workin' on this, you'll have to wait your turn…Ya know, once I win this bet, I might just have ya suck me off first…"
Sniper snorted a little. "Competitive to the end, aren't ya? But I like moy idea bettah…" One calloused hand reached over to rest on Scout's thigh. The runner tensed up for a moment, but then relaxed, the gesture didn't make him feel trapped, and he enjoyed the subtle warm pressure on his skin.
"Ya can end this, right now. I know ya don't like ta wait, luv, and ya don't have to…just let me touch ya."
Scout laughed a little, but his voice was thin. "An' here I thought ya were a professional assassin. Don't ya gotta have some self control for that?"
"You're purposefully testin' my control, and you have been the whole bloody time."
Fully committing to his seduction, the marksman chucked his mostly-melted ice cream off of the roof, which immediately disappeared from sight. Scout, unwilling to have his taken away, shoved half in his mouth at once as Sniper's hand stroked further up his thigh.
"Please, Bun, just let me catch ya…let me make you feel good…"
Scout was torn. Sniper's touch, his warm fingers combined with the worn leather of his glove felt so good on his thigh. When Scout had kissed him the night before, he hadn't imagined that things would go so far, but now he was left fighting his baser instincts.
His young, hormone filled brain was screaming at him to kiss Sniper, to climb into his lap, and let the man put his hands under his clothes and just touch him everywhere. The knowledge that Sniper wanted him just as badly wasn't helping.
But if he gave in to his need, then he would be showing the rest of the team he was exactly who they all thought he was: a kid with no self control who could be easily manipulated-with sex, no less! Even if they didn't find out all of the details, it would be impossible to explain how Sniper had won without mentioning that he hadn't put up a fight.
He wanted Sniper, and the feeling was obviously mutual, but he knew that the man cared about him too, and he hoped that he wouldn't change his mind if he had to wait.
Scout turned his head away. "Sorry, Snipes…I can't."
The marksman's face fell slightly, his hand slipping off Scout's leg.
"It's not that I'm not interested!" Scout hurried to say. "It's just…I have to do this…for myself."
Sniper looked disappointed, but he nodded. "I get it. You'd feel wrong if ya just gave up."
"Yea, exactly!" Scout punched the older man's shoulder. "But don't ya dare take it easy on me, if ya catch me for real I'll stop fightin' ya!"
Sniper smiled at him, a once rare sight around base that was quickly becoming familiar to Scout. "Promise."
Scout stood up, the rest of his ice cream long gone by now. "We should probably be heading back to base soon. So how 'bout you come unchain my bike?"
Sniper dragged himself to his feet. "I dunno mate, think of it as your comeuppance for teasing me just now."
"Oo, comeuppance, that's a fancy word for you!" Scout teased. "What does that even mean?"
Sniper gave him a little push. "It means you're a brat."
"Hey!" the runner shouted, trying to push him back as Sniper tried to get into the stairwell ahead of him.
The tenants of the building spent the next few minutes listening to shouts, crashing, and a steady stream of laughter.
"We're here, ya can let go now, Snipes." Scout assured the man sitting behind him on the motorcycle, who was still gripping his sides in an almost painful way.
Sniper gradually released him, muttering "We are NEVER doing that again…"
When the two mercenaries had tumbled out of the stairwell back in town, they realized fairly quickly that the RED van was gone, indicating that the other mercenaries had either gotten tired of waiting, or had left them on purpose. Scout was pretty sure it was the latter.
Since they were now both stranded, the two had negotiated that Sniper would unchain Scout's bike as long as he took the sharpshooter back to base with him.
A request that Sniper quickly came to regret, as Scout's driving was not for the faint of heart. And while Sniper was a hardened mercenary, he was not at all used to hurtling along at 80 miles per hour, with a driver who did not understand the words 'slow' and 'down'.
So once they finally pulled into the garage at RED base, he was more than ready to get off the motorcycle and never go near the damned thing again. Except that meant he would need to let go of Scout, and he wasn't quite ready to do that yet.
He did relax his death grip on the boy though, instead curling his arms more gently around him.
"Sniper…" Scout said warningly, raising an eyebrow.
"Wut, truce remember? This doesn't count." Sniper told him, slouching a little to rest his chin on the runner's shoulder.
"Oh yea?" Scout twisted his neck a little awkwardly to look at him. "An' if I kissed ya right now, would that count?"
Sniper looked taken aback, then swallowed thickly. "Not if…not if ya're kissing me I think."
"Okay." Scout said simply, before twisting over his right shoulder to kiss the marksman. Sniper leaned forward almost over Scout's shoulder so that the runner wouldn't have to strain his neck as much, his hands gently stroking Scout's sides.
The little bugger's response to that was to stick his tongue into his mouth, startling Sniper and kicking his arousal back up to a 10. He hadn't expected the kid to be so bold, but then again, this WAS Scout.
Speaking of Scout, he seemed frustrated that he couldn't touch Sniper without being at an extremely awkward angle. This frustration only seemed to mount when one of Sniper's hands left his waist and began to stroke his thigh instead. The noise that Scout made went straight to his groin, and Sniper's hand wandered a bit higher.
Scout broke the kiss with a gasp that turned into a moan. "Snipes-fuck-ya gotta stop…"
"Ya sure about that?" Sniper asked teasingly, but his hand did cease it's movements.
"Unless ya want someone to catch us fuckin' out here, yea."
Sniper's pants tightened further at the thought. "I guess that wouldn't be worth it."
Scout laughed, slipping out of Sniper's lax grip and off the motorcycle. "Yea, besides, we both have beds…Anyways, it's almost dinner, and it's Engie's turn tonight, that's always good, so c'mon!"
"Ya go ahead." The sharpshooter told him. "I'm going ta need a minute ta…calm down…"
"Oh, sorry 'bout that." Scout didn't sound the least bit sorry. "By tha way…" Before Sniper could react, Scout darted back in and kissed him again, a much quicker touch this time, before heading back towards the door leading inside. "...Truce is off, game on, Stretch!"
"-and then, the little BLU man followed me into da tunnel, but he didn't see that eye'd covered the rafters with ma sticky bombs and KABLEWY! Took his head clean off, but the body kept on runnin' for a mite, until it fell down, raight at m'feet!"
A round of hearty laughter followed Demoman's story, regaling his most inventive (but far from the bloodiest) kill of the previous day's match.
Heavy laughed. "Leetle BLU men need to watch where they run!" This made the rest of the men laugh again.
"What's so funny?" Scout asked, wandering into the room hat in hand, his hair still wet from the shower he'd taken after dinner.
"There you are!" Soldier twisted around in his chair. "Toss me a beer, maggot!"
Scout crossed his arms. "Why should I?"
"You fought me for that last porkchop, it's the least you can do!"
Scout rolled his eyes, which Sniper caught from his spot at the table, and he muttered "Ya really should respect your elders, Bun, just get it for him."
The runner choked on a laugh, but obliged and swung open the fridge, fishing out a beer.
"Hey sarge, catch!" he whipped the bottle at Soldier, who thankfully caught it. Demoman took offense to this.
"If he didnae catch that, and it went ta waste, I would have blown you back ta where you came from laddie!"
"Yea, yea!" Scout answered noncommittally, pulling out a can of BONK! for himself. "He wouldn't have missed, I know how to throw shit!" He cracked open the can, downing about half of it within 30 seconds.
"Whoa, slow down son!" Engineer said with a laugh.
"It tastes better this way!" Scout retorted, but then paused, licking his lips and looking suspiciously at the can.
"Hey Medic…can you smell this?"
The doctor wrinkled his nose, looking offended at the very thought. "Vhy?"
"It just…tastes weird. You've got discerning senses, that's all." He extended the can towards Medic. "Can you just tell me if you smell anything weird."
Medic, looking like he felt that even holding the can was beneath him, took a begrudging sniff, but then his eyes widened. Now fully focused, he lowered his nose towards the can's opening and sniffed again.
Heavy looked curious. "Everything alright, Doktor?"
Instead of answering, Medic chuckled a little, looking over towards Sniper. "You are a sneaky one, Herr Sniper. I vould not ov thought of this, vell done."
Sniper looked uncharacteristically pleased with himself. "Thanks, Doc."
"Wait…" Scout's mind was slowly catching up with what was happening around him. "You messed with my BONK!?"
Sniper shrugged. "Ya messed with my coffee."
Scout slapped himself in the forehead. "Oh shit, I meant ta give that back!"
"Vhat did you put in zhat…abomination he calls a drink, bushman?" Spy inquired, looking slightly perturbed.
Sniper shrugged. "I just crushed some of those sleeping pills ya have, Doc, since ya don't use anesthesia on any of us…ever."
Medic ignored the pointed comment. "Ah, the benzodiazepine! How on earth did you get it in the can vithout leakage?"
Before Sniper could answer, Scout cut in. "Whoa hang on, ya put sleeping pills in my drink?"
"Well, ya told me not to take it easy on you, and this is one way to take someone out, except, ya know, with poison."
Scout smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "I guess I should be glad you didn't go with that-whoa…" his hand came up to his head as he stumbled a little.
"Are you…alright?" Spy asked, seeming concerned but trying to hide it.
"Yeah just…a bit dizzy it's fine."
Medic started to look concerned. "Sniper, how much did you put in here? The pills should not start to take effect for twenty to thirty minutes?"
Sniper looked embarrassed. "I don't know, mate, like 5 or 6…"
"5 or 6!?" Medic was astonished. "That is enough to put Misha to sleep, nevermind someone Scout's size!" The Doctor climbed off the couch, all traces of amusement gone, Sniper and Spy followed him, side-eyeing each other.
"Is that bad?" Scout asked, leaning onto the table now. "Am I going to start throwin' up or something?"
"No…I don't believe so…" Medic answered. "Vithout a doubt you are going to be unconscious very soon."
"Oh…okay…" The runner's mind was moving a lot slower than usual, but a part of him was still determined to leave, since, if he passed out, all Sniper would need to do was pick him up and he'd win. "Guess I'd better go then-"
But as Scout pushed off the table and tried to stand up straight, he was hit by a jolt of unsteadiness in both his arms and legs and slumped back onto the table. "What the fuck…" he muttered.
"Are ya okay, Bun?" Sniper asked, looking guilty.
"I can't stand up…" Scout said, almost to himself. Things were beginning to look fuzzy too, colours bleeding together and movements becoming blurry. He could have sworn the floor was moving.
"Try sitting down." Medic said, pulling out the chair directly next to Scout. The runner eased himself off the table, but his legs immediately gave out and he collapsed.
A red, black, and brown shape dropped next to him, reaching out, but Scout backed away as best he could. "Don't! I…can't tell who you are!"
The familiar, gravelly voice sounded hurt. "Roo…it's just me."
This, combined with how distorted his vision was, only made Scout more upset. "Don't touch me! Ya did this ta me!"
A muted burgundy shape approached, speaking sharply. "He zaid not to touch, bushman! Now back away before I make you!"
Scout reached out sloppily in the direction of the voice. "Dad…"
He felt a gloved hand grasp his, another pulling him up to stand position, which he could barely maintain. "I've got you, mon petit lapin."
Scout could smell the heady scent of his father's cologne, which only added to the new wave of dizziness to his already swirling head. He could barely get out "I'm…gonna…pass out-" before he fell unconscious against Spy.
When Scout opened his heavy eyelids again, he was in his room. Faint light filtered in through the window, but it certainly wasn't day yet.
Gingerly raising himself up to a seated position, Scout was surprised to see that there was someone else in the room. Spy was sitting on one of the boxes in his room, reading a small novel, which he tucked away when he saw Scout sitting up.
"How are you feeling?"
Scout rubbed his head. "I'm okay, I guess. My head hurts, but that's not a shock."
"Good."
The two sat awkwardly for a moment, both avoiding eye contact. "How long was I out?"
Spy looked out the window. "Many hours. It is early in the morning now."
"An' you've been here this whole time?" Spy looked embarrassed.
"Your mother would kill me if I left you alone like zhis." His hand twitched, as though he itched to reach for a cigarette. "Besides, someone had to keep ze bushman out…"
Scout tensed up. "He was here?"
"As far as I know, 'e still iz sitting in ze hall. 'e argued with me, wanting to see you, but I think 'e 'as done enough." Spy said with obvious disdain.
The runner groaned and put his head in his hands. "This is so messed up…I guess he's won now, huh?"
Spy gave him an odd look. "'e drugged you and you're thinking about that stupid bet? But if you must know, you did not lose, I did not let him touch you."
Scout looked at him in astonishment. "Why?"
"You did not want him too." Spy said simply.
The runner snorted. "And here I thought you would never take my side."
"I am on no one's zide." The Frenchman said importantly, but then he paused. "But if I vas, I suppose it would be yours."
Scout smiled a little, but for once said nothing. They sat in silence for another moment before Spy coughed and rose to his feet. "I should get ze Medic to look at you."
"Aw, no, Spy I'm fine, don't wake him."
"'E is awake." Spy said with a shake of his head. "Sometimes I swear that man iz nocturnal-or inhuman."
Knowing that Spy would not let him argue, Scout found himself not wanting to break the shaky peace they seemed to have reached, so he agreed.
But when Spy rose and opened the door, the runner heard another voice that made his heart jump.
"I heard ya talking, is he awake?"
Spy blocked Sniper's view into the room with his tall frame. "'E iz." He said stiffly.
"Can I see him please?" The marksman pleaded, a little desperate. "I just want to talk to him."
"'E only just woke up, and no, as I said, you have done enough!"
Sniper sounded angry now. "Isn't it his decision if he wants to see me?"
In another time, Scout would have felt validated, smug even, that Sniper wasn't referring to him like a little kid, but instead an adult who could make his own decisions. But now, he just felt hollow.
Still, he didn't want to let his dad fight his battles for him, so he called out: "Sniper, I don't want to talk right now, go away!"
Spy moved aside enough that Scout could see Sniper's face, though he still wasn't letting him into the room. The man looked awful, but Scout assumed he had been up all night. Spy had too, but his balaclava helped hide circles under the eyes.
Sniper would not be deterred so easily, however. "Bun, I'm so sorry, I didn't think you'd pass out like that!"
"Ya didn't?" Scout's voice was high and sarcastic. "Well then, maybe, next time, don't drug a guy with FUCKING SLEEPING PILLS!"
He lay back down, turning his back on the door. It was immature, he knew, but it was either that or punch Sniper in the face.
"Just leave…" he said, unsure if Sniper could even hear him.
It seemed Spy did, as he forcefully shooed Sniper away for the next minute, before stepping out of the room himself.
Only then did Scout flip over onto his back, staring up at the shadowing ceiling as though it held the answer to his problem. Someone who he had feelings for, had come to trust implicitly, had drugged him to win a bet.
He knew Sniper was competitive, so was he, but this crossed a line he hadn't thought to define four days before.
Now he wasn't sure what to do, there was no way out of seeing Sniper, he was his teammate, and leaving Teufort wouldn't help him in the long run.
The only thing he knew for sure, was that he couldn't trust Sniper any more, and that knowledge broke his heart.
Darn it Sniper, you had one job! Can you tell I ate ice cream before eating this chapter, lol? Please review if you have a minute!
