"Would ya just stop fidgetin' for a moment'n just enjoy the scenery?!"

Scout tenses up and Sniper chuckles, craning his neck just slightly to catch a glimpse of the young man who sits on his lap.

"I didn't say turn into a statue—relax, Lawrence,"

Sniper pulls Scout's shoulders back, his frame loosening and falling against Sniper's chest. "Mmh?" he growls, catching the young man's eyes in a curious glance. "'S wrong, love?"

"I don't wanna catch your germs..." Scout attempts to snap, though he squirms drowsily against Jack, his weary voice muffled as he grumbles into the crook of his neck. "I'm not contagious anymore, I told ya already—haven't had a bloody cough in three days..."

The Australian also leans further so his back rests lazily against the warm metal of the camper's exterior. He closes his eyes, glasses dangling off his nose, their hats cast away somewhere, though ultimately it mattered little as that 'somewhere' wasn't atop their heads. His mind blanks out to a soothing hum as the once restless Scout in his arms dozes off, his soft breathing a keyless lullaby for the both of them.

Even in his half conscious slip into slumber, Jack allows his ungloved hands to curl in Lawrence's hair and against his waist, Scout's own arms draped around the older man's neck.

So much for enjoying the scenery—the darkened, endless hills that rolled into flat, vibrant fields—though now they were shades of grey and midnight blue, for the sun had long since set. As a matter of fact, Sniper reads 10:38 on his watch exactly, closing his eyes quickly afterward and allowing the residual heat of the season to bake his skin alongside the natural heat of Scout.

He loved it when Lawrence was quiet.

"Love you, mongrel..." he whispers in Scout's unattentive ear, kissing the tip of it—to Hell with germs.

But Jack's stomach drops down to his feet in a clenching lurch, for Scout's eyes are open once more, his head still against Sniper's shoulders.

"Thought you were sleepin'—" the Australian clears his throat sheepishly, and Lawrence gives his head a soft shake, blinking slowly.

And so a silence nestles between them, though it certainly isn't unpleasant or awkward; regardless, Sniper can only let an affectionate hand plow a soft course through Scout's thickening hair (it'd been a while since his last cut—it was a handsome look, he notes).

"Y'alright?"

"Yeah...'course..." Scout sighs, peering past Sniper's orange frames and straight into his grey eyes. Jack smiles expectantly as Lwrence's eyelids drop and his mouth parts just a little, the man instantly meeting his kiss with subdued passion. They allow themselves a solid thirty seconds worth of deep pecks, Scout's lips catching in Sniper's, suctioned in gently by his enthusiasm.

"You're fallin' asleep again!" Sniper chuckles, the young man nodding halfheartedly, yawning widely in response. "S'about time y'get back t'your base anyway, don't want your lot wonderin' where you skip off to..."

"Heinrich is keepin' 'em busy with stories, Jack! I don't wanna go back inside!" he whines, though Sniper stands to his feet, cracking his muscular back in a sluggish twist.

"I know, but we've been out here all day, y'gotta make an appearance sometime or Jane'll start givin' ya a curfew again,"

"I guess..." Scout pouts, Sniper patting his puckered cheeks. He lets his hand lace with Lawrence's, jerking his head softly in the direction of BLU's distant base.

"What, you still worried 'bout that whole buggerin' business? I'm sure it's nothin', C'mon, now. I'm prolly just forgettin', you're gettin' worked up for nothin',"

Scout sighs in an aggravated huff, but allows his step to be led by Sniper.

"Bucker up, love, mission starts early tomorrow, 'nd I want you on top of yourself so you're somethin' more than target practice..."

"Dude, that granary is fuckin' ours! I'ma cap so fast time is gonna start goin' backwards!" Scout snaps in a sudden rejuvenation, his lively eyes narrowed from aggression.

"Not if I can help it!"

"You can tell your fuckin' Scout—whasisname?! Fuckin' Samuel?! Tell 'im he ain't even gonna get a chance t'see the fuckin' point!"

"I'm gonna laugh tomorrow when your arse is sittin' in the medibay with a broken ankle after the first minute,"

"You would fuckin' laugh over me sufferin'n in pain!"

"Nah, 's you eatin' your own words with a nice steamin' pile o'shit I pay t'see—you gettin' dominated is all jus' part o'the process," Jack chuckles, staggering a bit in his step as Lawrence's prideful smirk is delivered side by side with a playful punch as well.

"Don't lemmie find you and your little campin' spot," Scout growls, walking ahead of Sniper, turning his head back to glare at him over his shoulder. "I'll fuck your eyes up, mate!" he growls further, Sniper narrowing his eyes in a twisted smile of expectancy; he loved Scout's heated words and self assured threats—especially before sex. The young man's conscious attempt to come out 'on top' after a nice verbal spurring only made him that much harder to work for.

"Not if I gut ya, first!"

"So sounds t'me like it's a duel ya want, wombat!" Lawrence stops and turns around to face the Australian, cocking his hip in his smug stance.

"Only if you're up for the arse kickin',"

"Pshht—"

And Jack gasps a little as Scout presses his frame against his front, his hand rooting itself in the Australian's thick hair, jerking his head downward violently.

"Watch out dingo," Scout whispers. "I ain't gonna go easy on ya," his insufferably gloating grin catches Sniper's fancy, the man kissing Lawrence's lips hastily before giving him a push toward his base. "I mean it, you won't make it out alive if I see ya!" Scout salutes Sniper in a final goodbye, the steel door slamming behind him. "Ahh," Scout sighs before his form undulates, and in a cloud of smoke ths disguise dissipates, Spy's footsteps echoing in the deserted hall.

"And neither will your precious Scout."