Even though Demo knew some sort of confrontation with the Sniper was coming, he didn't expect it to come in the form of Sniper walking down the hall carrying an overlarge cardboard box.

"Hey! Demo! I got something for you." Sniper steps up, and deposits the box in Demo's hands.

"Er…"

""S just a little apology present. I didn't mean to be such an ass the other day, and I wanted to make it up to you."

"Oh," Demo grunts. At least Sniper gets straight to the point, unlike some know-it-all Texans he knows. "So…I take it Spy talked with you about…all o' that?"

Sniper nods, delightedly cheerful. "Yeah, no worries. I'm fine with you two being poofs, though I can't say I'm not surprised. Anyway, I wasn't sure how many rubbers you would want, but I thought 'well, twice as many pricks' so I just put in a couple of boxes."

Demo is about to ask Sniper what the fuck he was talking about when he looks into the box. Immediately, his cheeks go warm when its contents turn out to be dozens upon dozens of condoms, complete with bottles of lube and other toys Demo assumes are for sexual gratification.

"I'm not going to pretend I know what goes on between two blokes," Sniper continues, oblivious to Demo's chagrin, "but I figured this is all the stuff a couple of people need to have a good time. Congratulations on getting laid, by the way."

Demo stutters for a solid minute, bashfulness making his tongue do somersaults. Eventually, he manages to say, "JesusSniper, It's nae like…we havenae even talked about…I dunnae even know…"

Sniper raises an eyebrow. "You don't know? Don't know where to stick it? I mean I know it's different than on a Sheila, but-"

"Sniper," Demo interrupts. "Please stop talking."

Sniper grins, and Demo isn't sure whether the man is pulling his leg, or actually thinks this is an appropriate apology gift.

"Anyway, that's all I wanted to say," Sniper finishes. "That and sorry. So, I'll be heading off now. Have fun with that."

Sniper nods at the box, and starts off down the hall. Just when Demo thinks the conversation is mercifully over, Sniper turns with one final thought.

"Oh, quick question. If Solly's your boyfriend now, does that mean I get promoted to 'best mate'?"

"Mundy. Go."

Sniper smirks, and leaves the flustered Demoman to his box of trinkets.


Despite going about it in the worst possible way, Sniper does have a good point. Demo has never really considered anything sexual between him and Soldier, and the thought of bringing it up terrifies him. How quickly does Soldier expect things to move? If he were a girl, they'd definitely have done it by now, Demo knows that much. But neither of them are girls, and Demo is still not used to the whole being gay thing. Are you supposed to have a conversation about who tops? Because that's a can of worms Demo really doesn't want to open.

He decides the only thing to do is talk about it.

The anticipation is killing him. Demo doesn't want to wait until Grenades tomorrow night; he just wants to get this over with as quickly as possible. During dinner, he steels his nerves and leans over toward Soldier.

"Can I talk tae you 'bout somethin' after supper? It's important."

Soldier nods, chewing a mouthful of beef stroganoff as a little of sour cream drips down his chin. If he notes the hint of worry in Demo's voice, he doesn't acknowledge it. He's not the only one at the table though, and Engie shoots Demo a death glare.

Demo rolls his eye. I'm nae breaking up with him you bloody buttinski, he thinks at the Engineer, but Engie doesn't receive the telepathic message.

After dinner, he's not sure where to go. Going to either of their rooms is out of the question; he doesn't want Soldier thinking there's some sort of subliminal messaging going on, especially when they're probably going to sit on the bed. Most other areas of the base are occupied at this time of day, and the lab will be abandoned but dismal. Really, there's no place to go but back out to the deck.

Someone's already stolen back the reclining chairs, but Demo wants to stand anyway. Important talk and all that.

They lean against the railing, Soldier still going on about what Scout said at supper.

"I had to run seven miles in the snow for mouthing off," he rants, "and kids these days just get a rap on the knuckles for all their prissy footing and indecent haircuts. What is the world coming to?"

"Hmm," Demo agrees absentmindedly.

"You alright, Demoman?" Soldier asks, suddenly concerned. "Is it something bad you wanted to talk about?"

"What?" Demo starts, pushing off the railing and folding his arms over his chest. "No, no. Nothin' bad. Well…I hope nothin' bad. It's up to you, I guess."

Soldier tilts his head. "I don't get it."

Demo rubs the back of his neck, knowing he should look at Soldier but too nervous to hold his gaze for long. He sighs. "Let me start over. We've been together for a while now, and usually at some point in a relationship people decide to…take it to the next level. So I thought we should talk about that. The next level."

"You mean like sharing gum?" Soldier asks plainly.

"Uh, no." Demo swallows, embarrassed that he's going to have to say it aloud. "I mean physical stuff. Sex. I'm talkin' about sex."

"Oh," is all Soldier says.

Soldier turns, leaning out over the railing and over the yard. He's quiet for a long time, which doesn't help to improve Demo's neurasthenia.

Several failed attempts at speaking later, Demo manages to cough out, "Well, this is a pretty terrible way o' talkin' about it."

Soldier looks up, as though just remembering Demo is there. He tilts his head again, making the helmet slip slightly.

"Sorry. I was thinking."

Soldier stands back form the ledge and wrings his hands. For the first time, Demo realizes that Soldier is probably just as nervous as he is, and might have been dreading this conversation too.

"I've been worried this was coming," Soldier begins.

Well shit.

"The thing is," he says, managing to keep the Demoman in view, "when you first said you liked me, I didn't know what to think. I went to Engie, and I was really scared, because I'd never liked anyone before. For a long time, I thought there was something wrong with me."

Demo is about to insist "there's nothing wrong with you," or at least something else a good boyfriend should say, but Soldier holds up a hand to stop him. Demo closes his mouth, waiting for Soldier to finish.

Solider folds his arms cross his chest, the pressure of maintaining eye contact too much for him. "Eventually I just figured I was in love with America and that there just wasn't enough room in my heart for anything but war. But we've been kissing and holding hands and saying we like each other and I do like all that. But not…anything else."

Demo watches the Soldier pick a scab on his hand. He feels guilty—Soldier thinks he started this conversation just to pressure him into sex.

"It's not your fault," Soldier continues to ramble. "I don't want to do stuff with anyone, guys or girls. I just want to do the nice parts of being with you, without all the un-nice parts. But if you want to have sex, I won't…I'm sorry. I just won't be able to do that."

At the very end, Soldier's voice breaks and he quickly turns away.

Demo doesn't even wait a full minute to process the little speech before wrapping his arms around Soldier's middle. Soldier gives a squeak of surprise, expecting a condescending remark at the very least. Instead, Demo buries his face in Soldier's shoulder and sighs.

"You dunnae have tae worry about a thing, luv," Demo laughs in relief. "I was worried about you wantin' tae take it further. Shite, this is all goin' too fast for me already."

"You mean…you don't want to have sex?" Soldier asks, twisting around trying to see the Demoman.

"No, nae right now," Demo affirms. "And defiantly nae if it's somethin' you dunnae want."

Soldier's shoulders sag in relief. He returns Demo's hug, and the two of them cradle each other in comfortable silence for as long as it takes to realize how happy they truly are.


When returning from the deck, they make the mistake or walking past the infirmary.

"Sie sind ein Narr!" comes from within the swinging doors. A second later, something heavy and wet lands against them with a loud SPLAT. Demo and Soldier share a look.

Soldier raises his eyebrows excitedly. Demo shakes his head. Soldier goes in anyway.

"Du wagst es, wieder hierher zu kommen?" Medic hollers, ignoring the appearance of the two onlookers. "Du großer Lümmel!"

Heavy folds his arms, looking at the doctor with an unamused expression. Medic is worse off, his glasses slightly askew and lab coat wrinkled; the gooey thing splattered against the door seems to have been thrown by him.

As if on cue, Medic hurls one of Heavy's books at the man. Heavy doesn't even need to sidestep it; he merely gives a look of disapproval as it smacks harmlessly a few feet to the left.

"Doctor should work on aim," he notes.

"Ha!" Medic barks. "Says the man who sits in one place spinning his gun until he hits something."

Heavy remains indifferent. "No need for talking. Heavy has come to grab things. Am no longer welcome here, obviously."

"Fah! Fine, take them," Medic says, throwing up his hands in defeat. "Your useless books were getting in the way of my experiments."

Medic turns, about to return to said experiment. Lying on the examination table is a live cuttlefish; apparently, without Heavy's body for human experimentation, Medic has turned his frustrations onto cephalopods. Demo feels his concern mount.

The situation is made that much worse when Soldier decides to open his mouth.

"What exactly is the problem here, cupcake?"

Demo facepalms.

Medic whirls on the Soldier. His eyes are ablaze, and, for a second Demo thinks he's just going to tell Soldier to fuck off. But after a brief moment of suppressed rage, Medic says, "The problem is that Heavy thinks his interpretations of literature are oh-so-much better than us common people."

Heavy snorts. "Pot calls kettle black."

"Do not accuse me of being a hypocrite!" Medic bites back. "I am the not the one waving around my narrow worldview like I'm Shakespearicles. You mocked me! You made like your opinions are superior to mine just because you're some verdammt alumnus! Vell I tell you: I have never needed some institutionalized education for vhat I do, and I certainly don't need one to read a book!"

Ouch. This seems to run a lot deeper than Demo thought. And here Spy always talked about it like it was some lover's spat. He's about to take Soldier by the arm and beat a graceful retreat, when his boyfriend decides his input is needed.

"Is that what this is all about, doc? You don't think you're smart enough?"

Medic's face immediately passes from indignation to shock. "Vhat? Nein! I did not say that." He folds his arms over his chest defensively.

Demo is stunned by how quickly the mood of the room has changed. He watches as Soldier steps up and places a hand on the doctor's shoulder.

"Listen here sweetheart, I know a thing or two about not feeling smart," he begins. "In fact, I am probably the most qualified person on this base to speak on the subject. Sometimes, you think that because someone says things fast, or uses bigger words than you do, they're lording it over you like some big victory flag that says 'fuck you'. Only they aren't. That's the way they are, and just because they do stuff like that doesn't mean they're trying to make you feel bad."

Medic looks at Soldier like he's grown a second head.

"I'm sure Heavy did not mean to remind you that you are a fraud and have never been to medical school," Soldier goes on. He looks over his shoulder at Heavy. "Isn't that right, Ruskie?"

For the first time since the argument started, Heavy looks something besides apathetic. In fact, he almost seems…embarrassed. The Russian looks between Soldier and Medic, the doctor now giving him a raised eyebrow.

"Hrmm…no. I did not try to imply…that." He has the decency to look abashed, rubbing the back of his neck while shifting from foot to foot. "I only bring up degree because I feel you did not respect me."

Something softens in Medic's expression, and Soldier takes a step back.

"I love Karenina," Heavy continues. "Is my favorite of all time. When I share with doktor, I expect him to love it to. When you say that you do no think love triumphs in end, it hurt. It felt like personal attack. I am sorry, I did not mean to kill two birds with one stone."

A wry smile crosses Medic's face. "That is not what that phrase means, you oaf," he replies, but his voice lacks its earlier venom. He adjusts his glasses. "I am sorry too. I should not have jumped to the worst possible conclusion. Maybe when I am fluent in my Russian, we will not have so many miscommunications."

"Maybe," Heavy says with a twinkle in his eye. "Though that will take very long time."

"Trottel," Medic grins.

"Well, my work here is done," Soldier says slapping Medic on the back and skewing his glasses once again. "See you later, privates. Have fun cleaning up your stupid library."

As Soldier and Demo make their way to the doors, Demo thinks that went much better than expected, considering no one's intestines ended up on their outsides. They almost make it to the door before Medic stops them.

"A moment, Herr Demo."

Demo turns to see Medic rummaging around in a supply cabinet, eventually returning with a book clutched in his hand.

"Er," Demo protests, "no offense lads, but I'm nae really interested in joining book club. My Russian doesnae extend much beyond 'yes' and 'no'."

Medic shakes his head. "No, it's not that. It's a very helpful anatomy course, complete vith diagrams. Sniper mentioned that you vere having trouble with such things, and asked if I had anything to help. I'm glad you came by when you did, I almost forgot."

"Sniper- what?" Demo practically squeaks. "That skinny little-"

"What does Demoman need anatomy book for?" Heavy questions suspiciously.

"Hm?" Medic asks absently, picking up some discarded cuttlefish from the door. "Oh, he and Soldier are sleeping together. I thought everyone knew that."

Demo makes a strangled noise, one that eventually forms into, "Soldier and I are nae sleepin' together!"

"Yeah!" Soldier backs him up. "We just do the kissing stuff!"

"Soldier!" Demo snaps.

"Uh…I mean…we don't do kissing stuff either!" Soldier backpedals. "We are completely platonic in our interactions and do not like each other as more than friends, even though we spend a lot of time together now, it is nothing to…uh…be suspicious about…dammit," Soldier mutters in defeat.

Demo facepalms again.

"Vell, this was all very informative," Medic says, placing the last of the books back on Heavy's shelf.

Heavy looks between the two of them, pleasantly amused.

"C'mon, Solly," Demo says, taking Soldier by the arm. "We've done enough here."

Soldier lets himself be dragged out, apologizing once they got into the hallway. Demo halfheartedly tells him it's okay, and goes upstairs to find an inconspicuous place to stash the book. Probably next to his condoms and fuzzy handcuffs.