Scout jumps as a pair of hands shake his frame awake, the van completely dark, the engine off, the whole of the automobile stationary—the radiator smoking as Scout always knew it to…

"Wake up, love…"

Scout groans, twisting in his seat, the warm groove he'd nestled in the faux leather all too possessive of his groggy mass, and is the cause of his reluctance to heed Sniper's delicately spoken request.

Scout yawns as his frame slides and he feels himself land against Sniper, the Australian sitting the boy up, patting his cheek lightly. Eyes flickering open sluggishly, he sits up and brings his fingers to massage them subconsciously.

"Y'said you have your ID with ya, no?" Sniper asks calmly, Scout nodding, cracking his back.

"Why? We get stopped by the police or somethin'?" he yawns, pulling the card from out of his pocket and shoving it into Sniper's hand. "Y'want me t'hide in the camper like we practiced?"

"No, no—hold onto this, love, you'll need it…"

"Jack…?" Scout asks warily, eyes widening as he meets those of the man he addresses.

"'S'alright, we're not in trouble—now come with me into the camper, we need t'get ya all spruced up,"

"Dude, what're you plannin'?!" Scout's voice is muffled as Sniper pulls the young man's shirt above his head.

"For real, why you gotta strip me and have my ID?! Ah, shit, you shoulda told me to close my mouth!" Scout snaps as Sniper sprays him with a few spurts of rich, dark brown cologne, the smell heavy and bitter in his nostrils.

"Seriously," Scout glares, Sniper spraying yet more of the liquid across Scout's bare chest.

"Go put on some fresh undies'nd a nice pair o'pants—don't just gape at me, do it!" Sniper growls, Scout raising an eyebrow, doing as told regardless.

"What do ya mean, nice?" Scout calls from the sleeping room.

"Not ratty'nd soakin' wet—'nd why don't ya throw on that blue shirt o'yours? Suits ya,"

"What, are you enterin' me in one o'them beauty pageants or some shit?!"

"Not exactly,"

"Exactly?!"

"You'll still wanna not smell too repulsive where we're goin'—ya ready?"

"I—I dunno, 'cause I have no idea where we're goin' or what we're doin'!"

Sniper smirks, nicking his head and implying for Scout to follow him.

Scout sighs heavily as they stand in what appears to be a mildly packed parking lot, Scout placing his hands behind his head and staring about with disinterest.

:"We stoppin' to eat? Hey, hey, what the fuck?!" Scout squirms as Sniper grabs hold of him, parting his hair into a dapper style with a small black comb.

"Only if you're hungry for the truth, mate…"

"Why're you bein' so weird and cryptic, Jack?! Would you just tell me what the fuck is goin' on?!"

"Well—we're gonna figure out what your deal is with dames," Sniper answers simply, Scout stopping midstride and throwing the Australian a raised eyebrow.

"Seriously?! And how do you plan on doin' that out here?!" Scout laughs disbelievingly.

"Huh?!"

Sniper stands silent as it becomes more and more apparent that an aggressive, hysterical tirade was bound to escape from Scout any second.

"You drag me out here, in the middle of fuckin' nowhere, don't tell me shit about nothin', where we're goin', or why, and I'm just supposed to fuckin' follow you?!"

Sniper's smirk only warrants an irritated groan from Scout, his glare that he directs at the Australian one of utter mistrust. Though as Sniper beckons Scout with the flick of his wrist, the young man, albeit skeptical, cannot help but be obedient and follow him.

"And who said I even had a deal…" he snaps, shoving Sniper poutingly as he slows his stride so that it matches Sniper's exactly.

"Seriously, Jack…"

"Get out your ID, love—" Sniper instructs lightly, producing his own.

Scout grabs hold of Sniper as the two approach a set of black iron doors, Scout wrinkling his nose as a distinct smell of rich whiskey and expensive tobacco floats somewhere just beyond the barricades of the very entrance Sniper nonchalantly leads them to.

"After you, love" Sniper grins, holding the door open for the thoroughly perplexed Scout. A humid air hits him instantaneously; Scout even makes a motion to plug his nose, a muffled, beatless drone of music seeping through the walls, the entirety of the building's structure and insides being completely black.

"Jack, what the hell?!" Scout turns around and asks his lover anxiously, Sniper however responding by taking his brim hat from atop his head, grinning devilishly behind his shades.

"This way."

He grabs hold of Scout's hand, leading him gently down a corridor that smells again of the same sweet tobacco and careless amounts of alcohol.

"How do you know where we're goin'?! And how do you know where we—?!"

Scout freezes in his tracks as the corridor leads to a smokey lounge, lethargic men scattered about in plush couches and chairs, glasses in hand as they cheer on various women, women who seem eerily unclothed, their dances slow, seductive—

'Did this crazy ass fucker really just bring me to a strip club in the middle of nowhere?!'

"…What the Hell is the matter with you, Jack?!" Scout whispers, though by time he twists his head to ask the man outright, he notices Sniper has already seated himself directly in front of a busty red head who dances atop a hot pink catwalk, topless and in glittering, clear heels.

"Like what ya see?" Sniper asks curiously, raising his eyebrows suggestively over his glasses.

"C'mon, take a seat and relax, love," Sniper gives Scout a loving slap on the shoulder with the back of his hand, the Aussie lighting up a cigarette and proceeding to sit lazily, legs spread in trusting comfort.
Sniper watches the woman, expression relaxed albeit neutral, Scout however stunned, eyes wide and glassy as he, for the first time in his life, takes on the full sight of the naked female form in close proximity. He doesn't even feel his jaw drop or his lips part, nor does he sense a drying urgency in his eyes from his sudden incapability to blink—or even support the notion of such an action…

Scout swears that this woman, this nameless, beautiful woman, eyes him too with that same silent passion with which he gazes unto her. As she completes her circular pattern along the pole, she drops her lids and licks her lips, Scout getting a clear view of the caked layers of powder blue eyeshadow and its subtle, flesh colour fade into her browline.

If only it wasn't the same colour his mother used, maybe it would actually be sorta hot…

"Go 'head 'nd take it in, mongrel…" Sniper grunts, hand massaging Scout's shoulder, his head leaned back completely as he blows smoke through his nostrils.

Scout sighs, eyes still rooted on this woman and her dance. It's quiet, save the drunken hollers of the men a few tables over and the sultry psychedelic tune that emanates from some unseen speaker.

So maybe this wasn't exactly how he envisioned his initial encounter with a naked woman to play out; maybe he saw it all with a bit more finesse glazed along the edges of his daydreams, in a nice bedroom somewhere, with a sweet young lassie he'd worked on wooing for months—and had ultimately managed to charm through sheer swarthy allure.

Scout supposed he could see the skeletal basics of what he imagined in the reality of things—then again sitting in a humid, smokey titty bar in the middle of nowhere (that Scout sees thanks to a purple neon sign near the bar is cleverly named "Nipplopolis") with your boyfriend isn't anything finesse would have anything to do with.

Did it say something about him, that his first time seeing a naked woman was at a strip club at twenty four years old?!

"Why in the world're you so stiff, gremlin? You're prolly makin' 'er feel like she's doin' a bad job…" Sniper chuckles, and Scout nearly jumps off the couch, Sniper's voice startles him so.

"Here, drink one o'these—might calm ya a bit…"

Scout's lips point into a skeptical frown as the man shoves a glass under his nose, the dark brown contents swishing sickly in the glass.

"The fuck is this?!"

"Whiskey'n iced tea—figured you'd be a pansy about it'nd want your liquor with summin' sweet,"

Scout snatches the drink from Sniper's grip, taking a hearty gulp and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, throwing Sniper a casual middle finger, eyes still on the naked woman before him.

"Beaut', no? Got an exceptional rack,"

"Didn't know you still liked tits,"

"Bein' gay doesn't make you blind, Lawrence," Sniper rolls his eyes.

"'Nd clearly she has udders like bloody watermelons."

Scout concentrates harder on these very "melons", his tongue slipping from in between his dried lips.

"You look like you're takin' a math test, mate—calm down, 's 'all good…jus' play it natural…"

"Oh sorry, didn't know I had to look a certain way at a fuckin' strip club," Scout rolls his eyes.

"You could try lookin' a little less like a virgin; 's a bit embarassin', since I gotta be associated with ya 'nd all that,"

"Uh, last time I checked I'm old enough to buy my own beer and cigarettes, so you can go sit your ass somewhere else if that's really how it is,"

"Jus' 'cause the card says those things, doesn't exactly mean they're a hundred percent true,"

Sniper chuckles, sighing lightly.

"The drink settlin' in yet?"

Scout shrugs, and a few men at a nearby table throw bills onto the catwalk, the woman bending to pick them up, blowing her fans a sexy kiss.

"'Ey, love!" Sniper calls, Scout grimacing at Sniper's holler.

'Love is my nickname, what the fuck, Jack…'

"T'day's my mate's twenty first birthday, wanna give 'im somethin' special?!" Sniper winks and jerks his head in Scout's direction, his gaze exceptionally sexy and seductive, Scout mentally notes, though it still doesn't stop him from leaning in the man's ear frantically.

"Dude, no it ain't—!" Scout hisses.

"They don't know that, 'nd if you say it is then the nice ladies'll give ya a free lapdance,"

"You cheap ass bastard,"

"I sure as Hell ain't payin' if I'm not getting' immediate enjoyment outta any o'this,"

Sniper points to the catwalk, the woman placing a heel to the ground, swiveling her hips in a sexy stride to the two.

"Go 'head, now, Lawrence," Sniper smirks as the woman lowers herself onto the young man's lap, Scout visibly jumping, gasping as his eyes lock onto her own.

"So Lawrence is the name, hm?" She giggles, bringing her finger to bop the tip of his nose, the young man's eyes meeting it frantically.

"Cute name for a cute boy," She winks and growls huskily, Sniper's displeased growl going unnoticed, though not by the alleged "birthday boy".

Scout swallows before nodding, the woman placing her hands so they grip onto his front, Scout's own arms finding their way awkwardly around her bare hips, the woman's long, thin legs curling at Scout's waist.

"Don't be nervous," she growls, falling into a fit of girlish, youthful laughter as Scout, in a fit of lusty bravery, brings his lips to her neck and massages her breasts.

It certainly isn't bad, Scout notes in a state that grows less and less cohesive as the alcohol from before kicks in. Nowhere near as satisfying as his peers and boyhood had always made womanly indulgences out to be, but—

Regardless, Scout loosens up and entertains her, the woman treating him to a lapdance that would drive any heterosexually oriented man to pure, sex driven madness.

Though whether he feels the enthusiasm he pretends to exalt…Hell, he doesn't even have an erection…

"Oh, you boys!" She winks, swinging her legs and hoisting herself from Scout's lap.

"I hope your 'mate' has a birthday, too!" She winks at Scout, the young man laughing in a pathetic attempt at natural, careless joviality, though it's a marvel at just how quickly his smile fades, how darkly he eyes the woman who unknowingly makes advances on a taken man.

"Where you from, huh? England? Scotland?"

"Oi, I'm from Down Under, dollface," Sniper winks, the woman absolutely swooning at what Scout presumes is Jack's accent. It was pretty damn sexy…

"We never get Australians," She giggles, Scout mocking her silently, scrunching his face and quietly imitating her girlish laughter.

"You have a woman back home?"

"Sure don't," Sniper sighs, Scout sitting up and furrowing his brow.

"Hey wait a sec—!"

"How can a man like you not?!"

"Hm—Maybe the dames in Adelaide just have poor taste, puppet," Sniper whispers.

"Clearly they do! Oo, look at you! And those sideburns!"

Scout's expression is downright murderous. He can think of nothing more than chopping the very fingers that stroke the man's aforementioned sideburns off and crushing them under those glittering heels.

"JACK!" Scout shrieks as the woman brings Sniper into a soft kiss, the man chuckling into it, casting his shades aside.

"WHAT THE FUCK!" Scout roars, jerking Sniper from underneath the woman as she makes to undo his red button down.

"'S wrong, love? Jus' enjoyin' a nice little smooch—"

"FUCK YOU, WE'RE LEAVIN'!" Scout snaps, and Sniper rolls his eyes as he catches a brief glimpse of Scout's glassy ones.

"Sorry to cut it short, love, you know how jealous boys can get—Lawrence, Lawrence!" Sniper calls after the young man who stalks fumingly out of the club, the man careful to grab his hat and vest along the way out.

"Lawrence! S—Slow down, love!" He sputters after Scout, buttoning the undone buttons, the sound of his feet hitting the gravel just barely masking Scout's heavy breathing..

"WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT SHIT IN THERE?!"

"What shit?!"

"CALLIN' HER LOVE, AND—AND—!" Scout studders, kicking the ground and balling his fists.

"YOU JUST STARTED MAKIN' OUT WITH HER! SHE WAS ALL OVER YOU, AND—DON'T YOU FUCKIN' TOUCH ME!" Scout growls, slipping from under Sniper's grip as he goes to hug him.

"IT WAS THAT EASY FOR YOU TO FORGET ABOUT ME, HUH?!"

"Oh and I guess it was all dandy when I was just supposed to sit there 'nd not say a word while she humped your cock 'nd you squeezed her bloody—" Sniper scoffs before he can finish his sentence, throwing his arms into the air, Scout stationary, eyes narrowed and chest heaving.

"I DIDN'T ASK YOU TO FUCKIN' BRING ME HERE! I DON'T EVEN WANNA KNOW HOW YOU KNOW ABOUT THIS FUCKIN' PLACE TO BEGIN WITH!"

"I—it's a long story—a story for another day, now calm down, you're overreacting—"

"Overreacting?! You were the one who sat there and denied being with me, right in my fuckin' face!"

"I didn't deny anythin', Scout! She asked me if I had a lady 'nd I told her the truth! What was I supposed t'tell her, that I was a married man with three kids 'nd a house lookin' t'commit a little adultery tonight?"

"You—you're with me," Scout whispers sheepishly, as if displaying such a longing for Sniper killed him so.

"I was supposed to tell her I was with you?" Sniper raises an eyebrow.

"That sort o'thing isn't exactly somethin' you should be shoutin' from the rooftops, love—in case you've forgotten, not a lot o'people find the idea o'two blokes together a very wholesome one—plus it wasn't like I was gonna tell her, 'yeah, Lawrence is my boyfriend, but he won't let me fuck 'im anymore 'cause he thinks he likes ladies again, so I'm just here to see if he really does or not,"
Scout blanches, opening his mouth to speak, though settling with scratching behind his neck as no actual words come out.

"What?!"

Sniper walks past him and back toward the van, producing his keys, unlocking the van and climbing in accordingly.

"Hey don't you fuckin' walk away from me!" Scout snaps, wrenching open his own door and climbing into the van moodily.

"I took you here for your sake, Scout; you said you didn't know how you felt about women, 'nd what better place to answer that question than at a strip club? What better way to answer it than to confront you with hordes o'cute, naked women who'll touch ya if you pay 'em enough?"

"Seriously?! That's what you meant by this shit?! You make it sound like I'm some confused little boy!"

"'Cause that's how you're makin' yourself look, Scout,"

"So then you take me to a titty bar? Really?!"

Sniper shrugs.

"Forget that you even knew about this place to begin with; you prolly go to these places and make out with them whores all the time, you cheatin' prick," Scout spits, though he yelps as Sniper wrenches him so that Scout faces him, Sniper's hands digging into his shoulders.

"Listen t'me," Sniper begins, placing his glasses aside calmly onto the dashboard.

"Let's get one thing straight right here, right now, love; I would never, ever cheat on you,"

Scout's eyes do not waver nor does he blink, the serious gaze Sniper holds just as steadfast in his sincerity.

"I don't like women, Lawrence—I don't have my eyes on any other bloke, neither— you have my attention, my love, all of it—'s me that has to worry about you," Sniper reminds him, unable to help the escalation of desperation in the voice he attempts to keep even.

"What?! Why?" Scout gasps incredulously, Sniper emitting a single, low chuckle.

"You're a charmin' boy, love, 'nd you said yourself you've lost your attraction for me these last couple weeks…"

"Nah, that—that ain't what I said, 'nd that ain't what I meant by it, either," Scout corrects quickly.

"I—I ain't ever had feelings like these, Jack—not just for another dude, but for anyone…"

"Really now?" Sniper smiles smally, and the engine of the van makes a small creaking noise as it still cools down in its idled state.

It's silent for a few seconds, and the faint bass from the club can be heard if one were to listen for it. A few lights that align the roof of the aforementioned club cast a sideways glare of light across the windshield, the light reflecting in thin bows across their faces, the rest of the van otherwise cast about in darkness.

Scout laughs a short and quiet laugh at the residual sound of the corny music.

"Yeah," Scout nods, and Sniper starts up the van, pulling out of the parking lot.

"Really."

"…So then I'm your first—romantic—thing—" Sniper clears his throat and mutters some ten minutes later, the two already back on the road.

"Yeah,"

"And? How'm I holdin' up?"

"Huh?"

"Am I alright? You enjoyin' it so far?"

"You're so weird, Jack…" Scout chuckles, shaking his head and resting his temple against his knuckles, his elbow against the window.

"What?! 'S just a question, love…"

"Yeah,"

"Yeah what?"

"Yeah, I—I'm likin' it,"

"…'Cause I worry 'bout that, Lawrence—I worry that maybe it's all too much for ya, that I'm completely terrible for ya…"

"Why?"

"'Cause — 'cause I'm getting' paid t'kill ya, 'nd sometimes I can be a bit of a git—I know I'm not always the sweetest o'blokes, 'nd I get impatient with ya—a lot," Sniper explains.

"I jus' don't know how to be around people, love; I despise them and I've spent so much time away from them that sometimes I forget that maybe you'd prefer a bit of healthy, human interaction,"

"You sound like a whackjob,"

"I'm not the one you should go for if you're lookin' for a good time out with a friend," Sniper puts it bluntly. "Or anythin' resemblin' any sort of socialization for that matter,"

"So then…am I burdenin' ya? Ya know, 'cause I'm always with ya, in the camper, and after missions, and on weekends, and—"

"Any free moment we have?" Sniper chuckles, Scout swallowing at his finished sentence.

"If you were anyone else, I woulda shot myself by now—'nd I don't mean that t'make you feel bad, or feel like you're botherin' me—I give ya shit'nd say you're an annoying little gremlin—which you are, don't get me wrong—but,"

Scout lifts his head as Sniper suddenly stops in his monologue, the young man turning to face him, awaiting the closure of his sentence curiously.

"But?"

"…I don't know what I'd ever do without you."

Scout has a feeling that both of them are thankful the excuse of Sniper driving is the reason for his fixed gaze upon the road.

Sniper would rather die than have Scout see the heartfelt moisture that wells in his eyes—and Scout would definitelty do anyone who saw the adoring smile on his face in.

Both allow Sniper's comment to settle between them for a few seconds, Sniper clearing his throat shortly thereafter.

"So did you like the dance?"

"What? Oh. It—it was alright—I—I guess,"

'I wanted to like it…'

"Just alright?"

"I mean, she was hot—it was hot, but—"

"You like blokes?" Sniper asks in an almost hopeful voice, Scout sighing and nodding curtly.

"I just don't get it, Snipes. Growin' up I was horny as shit, jerkin' over chicks left and right. Luc had this huge ass stack of Penthouse magazines. Ma never knew about 'em, right? 'Nd Luc said I could borrow 'em as long as I promised not to tell her—those were the only times I didn't completely hate him—

Anyway—Jack, I was—I hid it well, but damn dude, it seemed like I was always walkin' around with an erection, and I was always whackin' it,"

"Mhn…"

"But then I—I'm deployed out to the 'Fort, and…"

"Y'wanna know why you're in love with a bloke when you were so secure in your sexuality growin' up?"

Scout nods.

"Don't take this the wrong way, love, but you've never even had relations with a woman—"

"I—I mean come on, I kissed a couple girls in high school! Nothin' serious, but—I—I was always playin' around with my brothers, doin' well in school, tryin' not to fucking kill Luc—I wasn't tryin' to start nothin' with them…"

"Right…"

"But that still don't explain nothin',"

"Look Lawrence, I'm sure things woulda turned out a lot differently providin' things'd gone the way life goes for most people; get a job or a career, stickin' around in Boston. Maybe you woulda met a real nice dame t'dine 'nd take home 'nd show Mum. Maybe you woulda met a few of 'em 'nd even settled down with one.

The point is thought you joined BLU and got yourself caught up in war to clear yourself of a criminal record—that right there is unique in its own right! 'Nd lemmie tell ya, war changes ya—'s not good, 's not bad, but you change—add that to the fact that time'll change ya no matter what 'nd you find that you're a whole 'nother person than what you ever though yourself t'be. It only shows you how little you truly know about yourself…"

Sniper takes the keys out of the ignition, looking around and seeing the man has them parked in a secluded, forested rest stop. The sounds of the highway can be heard outside the van.

"I'm gonna turn in, love," Sniper smiles, and Scout instantly follows the Australian as he exits the vehicle, placing another key into the camper door.

"Hey! N—not yet, you haven't even answered my question!"

"This is the sort o'talk I'd rather have in my 'jammas under the covers,"

"Alright, Jack, but talk and change, talk and change!" Scout demands, dancing on his heels as Sniper lifts his shirt over his head, cracking his lower back and rummaging through his bedside dresser.

"I'm not sayin' you never liked girls, but you gotta admit, it's hard to miss a sex life or orientation you never had experience with in the first place,"

"I still wanted to fuck 'em—you were the one with the limp dick,"

Sniper chuckles, pulling a wife beater and stretching it across his chest, unzipping his slacks.

"But war is the greatest exception mankind will ever know—only somethin' like war, where you're always faced with death, would drive you to fall in love with the very man who comes closest to ending you every day," Sniper sighs, tossing the pants aside lazily.

"I wouldn't have it any other way, Jack,"

Sniper stands in silent shock the first few seconds Scout presses himself against him, his hands curling into his thick brown hair and craning his head downward so Scout can better grasp his lips with his own.

'Musta said the right thing…' Sniper chuckles internally, responding to Scout's affectionate attitude with a tight embrace and long, heartfelt kisses.

"I don't think it's a question of man or woman, love…" Sniper sighs, his eyes half lidded with weariness, traveling slowly across Scout's face, the man sinking into the comfort of his mattress, the weight of Scout lying ontop of him blocking any escape from his blankets' warmth.

"I think we're dealin' with somethin' much bigger than somethin' as simple as that."