#4, rated T: Sniper, Demoman.
Sniper wakes up to the feeling of another body pressed up near his. He is met by the sight of Demoman's face next to him, slack with sleep, eyepatch removed. His arm is laid, perplexingly, over Sniper's waist. Sniper tries to understand the situation, but his mind is uncooperative. All he can comprehend is the taste of cheap, American beer in his mouth and an ache—
And then it all makes sense. He stiffens beneath Demoman's arm, and his breath catches when it moves, rubbing slowly over his side. "We'll talk about it in the morning," Demoman mumbles.
"…all right."