Note: There was actually a chapter between the last word and this one called HIPS. A few guesses as to why I couldn't post it here. :P
Pairings: REDEngie/REDScout
Disclaimer: I do not own Team fortress 2 or any of the characters therein.
CHAMBER
"Yo, hey, Pops!" The RED Engineer looked up at a familiar voice, matched by a familiar face with a familiar scowl.
It was long past three in the morning and there was a good chance the rest of the classes were either asleep or busying themselves in their own rooms. The Engineer usually worked well into the night and there were times when he would go a day or two without sleep for the sake of perfecting his latest design or trying to figure out something that would keep his babies safe from the dang-gum enemy Spy. That the youngest member of Reliable Demolition Excavation's team of mercenaries was going out of his way to talk to the Engineer would have been odd to other members of the team if they had been awake and observant, or even to the man in the workshop if he didn't have a sneaking suspicion he knew what the kid was there for. Personally, he would have preferred some kind of relationship that was more than having sex behind everyone's backs- maybe having sex and spending time together for the sake of spending time together behind everyone's backs, that would be nice. Companionship.
The Texan couldn't help but smile, "If I were a woman, I'd say that was an oddly Oedipal nickname there, partner."
"The fuck does that mean?"
"You really should brush up on your readin' sometime."
With a snort, the speedy young man shook his head, "Whatever." He strode casually into the Engineer's work place and plopped his scattergun down on the same worktable he had been occupying almost every night for the past week and that was currently occupied by a set of blueprints. "Its broken."
"Broken?" The Texan's eyebrow arched above his work goggles as he stared down at the gun on the table. Normally, he would have been annoyed at something being dropped on his blueprints and moved the offending gun to the side with a mildly irked promise to get to it sometime later that would probably be a blatant lie if only the spite the offender, but he had a soft spot for this kid. He picked the thing up and looked over it for a moment before shaking his head and quietly asking in his usual drawl, "It ain't firin' right, is it, partner?"
The Bostonian youth shrugged, sitting himself down on a stool next to the older man. It wasn't that he wanted some kind of excuse to be with his lover- the Scout wasn't that faggy and he sure as hell wasn't some kind of sentimental bitch or anything- he just liked complaining as much as he liked not having to do work if he could sucker someone else into it. That was all. That was totally what he was doing. Right.
"Y'all just gotta clean the chamber." The words were softly chiding; it was the same tone he had used with the younger men he had tutored every so often while working on his doctorates. His smile was as gentle as his tone had been as he held the gun out to its rightful owner, "If ya want, yer welcome to use anythin' in the shop to do it. Of course, it could take a while, kid."
With a snort, bandaged hands took the gun from the calloused hands of the other man, "Yeah, yeah. I don't keep any crap around for that kinda thing." It was a blatant lie, but he wasn't gonna admit that to anyone ever; he still wasn't a fag. "Guess I'll just have to come here to fix it."
Both men were smiling to themselves as they worked on their respective projects in the dim workshop. It would have been an uncomfortable silence between them if they had been in the presence of anyone else- especially for the talkative Scout- but, between those two, it was nice. Even relaxing. Enjoyable.