Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Sniper and Scout aren't strangers.

Far from it actually, as they tend to hang out now and again. Nothing too routine, just that Scout can become too much for the more social members of the team with his endless rants and non-stop energy. Sniper makes a good back-up, the Australian far too polite to tell him to bugger off at worst, and seems to enjoy the company on better days. Scout gladly takes the opportunity for company, his racing mind making him well suited for filling the empty space of the silence in Sniper's camper. Scout would even consider them friends! Well, it's not like he isn’t friends with some of his other teammates- but anyway. Many late nights have been spent at Sniper's camper, detailing stories of his hometown, his family, his adventures, perspective on the battlefield, team drama Sniper may have missed- basically whatever is going on in the rascal's brain. Scout has a terrible habit of saying whatever is on his mind, but he has a filter when it's important to him. It certainly seems to help when he tries not to think of it at all.

It's been approaching the time where it becomes warmer, especially where the team is camped out currently. It's nothing too bad as of right now, though he nervously anticipates the temperature to increase. He’s dealt with plenty of heat before, no biggie, but something seems different about this heat. Something lingering in the air.

He finds himself lingering on Sniper more often. For some reason, the man catches his eye. He catches himself watching the way he walks around the communal kitchen, Sniper always showing up later in favor of less people. He can't help but watch the details of his movement, the simple way his brow furrows when he realizes there are no scrambled eggs left, the way his face contorts as he clumsily drops a spoon full of oats on the floor, his profile as he speaks a few words in passing to engineer, and the way he uncomfortably shuffles out of the kitchen making a bee-line for his camper, overwhelmed by the ruckus of the morning team.

Scout isn't sure why he can't help but pay extra attention to the other man, choosing to push the thoughts out of his mind and brushing them off as nothing but an admiration of the other man and how he carries himself. If anything, it's indication he's drawn to the man, and maybe pursuing hanging out with the man more would work out. After all, if Scout is admiring him, clearly there has to be some level of chemistry. Platonic, that is. Platonic chemistry.

Scout decides he should approach the difficult task it may be to properly befriend the quiet, socially awkward sharpshooter.

"Kicked out again, eh?"

Scout is standing right outside Sniper's camper in the low light of a nearly set sun, practically vibrating with all his energy. Sniper's eyebrow is cocked, a smirk creeping onto his face as he looks down at Scout from the doorway of his van.

"Well, no, ah- sorta, but like, not really?"

Sniper chuckles and shakes his head.

"Sounds like someone's got gossip." He says, turning around, pointedly leaving the door open behind him. Scout takes the hint and scrambles inside behind him, stumbling over his own feet. Shutting the door behind him, Scout starts talking.

"It's not really what it sounds like- although that is usually why I'm here, I'm not in trouble or nuthin." He says, following the fellow mercenary to his beat up couch.

"I mean, I might've pissed off the doc a bit but like-" Scout makes himself comfortable on Sniper's couch as the merc walks to his tiny kitchen... how does a guy even make food in that..? Well, maybe he doesn't because he comes down for food- Scout's getting sidetracked. "I didn't do nuthin bad this time. I mean, who really cares if I touch their equipment? it's just a bonesaw, not like I don't know how to handle weaponry anyways. But he got realll mad. I coulda calmed him down but- eh. Not feelin it, yakno?" Scout says, craning his neck to watch Sniper putter about in his kitchen, refilling a mug with coffee.

"Okay, maybe I am a bit in trouble, but like, I don't come down here just because of that!" Scout protests.

"Ay, I never said you were in trouble. All came from you." Sniper says with a small laugh.

"Yeah well, you implied it, and Yakno, I jus-"

Sniper only starts laughing harder. He quietly makes his way over to the couch Scout is sitting on and sits, taking a delighted sip of his lukewarm coffee. "Yer a jumpy one tonight. I mean, you always are."

"Now what's that supposed to mean?" Scout inquires lightheartedly, a grin spreading across his face. Scout can feel it, that something in the air- but chooses to ignore it. Hanging out with Sniper is always nice, there’s no reason he should let his weird nerves ruin it. I mean, what’s he gonna do to fuck it up? Well. Scout runs through the options in his head, and quickly decides not to ask that question again, seeming too… loaded.

Now is not the time for a weird introspective spiral, stop thinking so hard. Just talk to him like a normal person! Yeah, that’s what’s gotten him this far, along with his incredible natural charisma.

Things relax a little after that, Scout pushing himself to loosen up. He doesn’t even have a reason to be nervous. Yeah, he’s amazing with people. Scout doesn’t move from his spot on the couch for a majority of the night- well. Majorly. Scout’s always moving, finding a way to fill empty space, spend that extra energy. Sniper doesn’t mention it, he never does. Scout likes that about Sniper, he doesn’t seem to comment on Scout. Just… listens. It’s not like he’s tuning him out, little “That right”s and slang Scout only halfway understands filling the small spaces where Scout pauses. Despite being a man of few words, Sniper still participates in conversation, proving he cares, to some extent. It’s embarrassing how validated it makes him feel when he thinks of it.

“It’s gettin' late. Don’t wanna ‘ave you run outta energy now, do we?”
Scout scoffs. “As if. Ya'kno, you’ve seen me out there, you should know... A guy like me? Never runs out of energy.” Scout boasts, receiving only a huff hiding quiet laughter. The two sit in silence for a moment. Sniper’s right, it is getting late, but Scout doesn’t want to leave. But- it’s Snipers place- oh crap. He’s probably trying to get him to leave.

“I mean, yo-”
“I’ll leave if you want me to!!”

Silence. Whatever is in the air seems to weigh down on him, all of his organs promptly falling in his stomach.

“Yakno, I don’t wa-”
“You can stay.”

Scout blinks at him.

“Jus' don’t wanna keep ya up too late, 'ave a pretty active job there.” Sniper says, smiling crookedly.

Scout’s brain is essentially rebooting when Sniper asks him- “Late at night like this is when it’s best out. Wanna grab a stubby and head to the roof of my van?”

The question only hangs in the air for a moment before Scout quickly quips back “Yeah, no, of course!”

Sniper smiles, albeit a bit awkwardly, and stands up. “Beers in the fridge.”

Scout watches as he walks out the door for a moment, before stumbling and getting the beer out of the fridge, mentally crossing off a space in his head of ‘things Sniper says I don’t understand’. He quickly whips around and hurriedly follows after Sniper, only half remembering to shut the door behind him.

“Ladders on the back.” Sniper guides, grinning down at him from the top of his van. Scout nods enthusiastically. He tosses the pack up with a loud clank and a laugh from Sniper. “Ya don’t wanna be breakin' them now, mate!” Sniper quarrels with a smile, as Scout scrambles up the ladder and sits down next to him. They just sit there for a moment, Sniper looking out over the rest of the team’s camp and Scout nervously looking at Sniper. Why is his heart racing? Why is the air so thick?

“...What now?”

“Grab a tinny and relax, if you can do that.” Sniper teases. Scout huffs and reaches behind him, grabbing a can.

“Hand me one too, would ya?” Sniper says, not breaking his staring contest with the grass right outside the entrance to the communal bedrooms he sharply declined back when they first got here. Scout hands him one, as requested. Sniper nods his thanks, and Scout cracks open his can. He looks around as he takes a sip. The night is peaceful, regardless of how much of the team is actually sleeping. He looks back over at Sniper, watching him sip his beer and look up at the sky. Scout’s eyes trace along his jawline, taking note of his stubble, before quickly swallowing some of his beer and mimicking Sniper's actions, looking up at the sky. It’s shockingly clear out here, the lack of light pollution always surprising Scout. He’s not soft or anything, but he’ll admit it really is nice out.

His brain circles back to the last couple of things Sniper said, practically buzzing out of his skin with the need to fill that empty space of silence hanging between them.

“Actually, I think it's best out later in the year. Like, when the uh.. The weather’s cooler, n when its not so muggy. Great weather for running, I'll have you know. Back where I grew up, if it was hot it was probably rainin’, and with the sun not beatin' down on ya, summers were pretty cool back at home.”

“That so?” Sniper says, between drinking off the last of his beer- wait, the guy’s already finished? God, that guy must’ve been chuggin' it or something, but he hardly seems tipsy.

“What the hell man, slow it down wit the drinks! I want some too, yakno.”

“Best hurry it up then mate, first come first serve.” Sniper says with a sly grin. “You sick bastard.” Scout says, before knocking back the rest of his beer like a frat boy at a shitty college party. Sniper laughs, Scout whipping his head back down from the classic head-tilted-back-chug position, grabbing another.

“You started this, don’t start laughing now!” Scout half-shouts, Sniper just laughing harder. “You get so bloody competitive, you know?” Sniper says, voice pitched up a bit from the laughter.

Scout just grins. He realizes- he likes making Sniper laugh. Sniper should laugh more often. Scout should make him laugh more, specifically. Scout’s face is oddly warm. He brushes it off as drinking that so fast, even though he should know just that isn’t enough to get him buzzed. He tosses back another beer, unsure of what could come out of his mouth with all his excited nerves, opting to keep his mouth busy with swallowing his drink. He doesn’t see the way Sniper’s eyes linger on his throat as he swallows, watching as his adam's apple bobs repeatedly.

“It’s not a challenge, ya don’t gotta prove yourself.” Sniper says, grinning, before he looks away from Scout. “All you’re provin is your inability to smash mad puss” Scout fires back, more than halfway through his second beer, and Sniper bursts out laughing. “God mate, you act like you’ve banged every damn sheila on planet earth.”

Scout giggles, chugging the last quarter of his beer before firing back. “You think I don’t got the looks to back it up?” Sniper shakes his head, smiling. “Never said nothing 'bout your looks, mate.”

The two banter on, Scout finishing beers far too quickly in an effort to prove his tolerance or something while Sniper nurses his own at his own, admittedly fast pace. Within the hour, they’ve finished the whole pack, Scout pretty damn close to actually drunk, And Sniper seeming tipsy. Sniper’s more talkative when he’s drunk, just barely, and Scout refuses to admit it but alcohol makes him go soft. Their banter winds down into teasing leading into stories about back home. Something in Scout clicks from the comfortable atmosphere, and he finds the words tumbling out before he can think about them.

“What’s your real name, man?”

Sniper huffs out a soft laugh, glancing over at him. “Mate, we aint s’posed to share that, yakno.”

Scout immediately feels like an idiot. Sniper has a good reputation as a professional, of course he would keep the barrier of work friends up, after all he’s right. There’s a reason they all call each other by their job titles.

In the silence coming from Scout’s panic, Sniper lays back, kicks his feet up and speaks into existence a friendship deeper than ‘work friends’. “My friends usually call me Mick.”

Scout just sits there for a second, staring at him. He kicks his brain and reminds himself he needs to actually say something, he’s probably making it weird, so he just blurts out “Mine’s Jeremey.”

Sniper looks over at him and just smiles and it makes Scout feel really weird inside so he just decides to keep talking- “My brothers came up wit all sorts'a nicknames. I generally just go by the full thing 'cuz it’s what my ma calls me.”

Sniper nods, and- despite public misconception, Scout isn’t actually stupid. He can feel the nervous energy radiating off of Sniper.

“...’M sorry man. I shouldn’t have asked that.” He says, averting his gaze, the vulnerability eating away at his insides.

“Nah mate, ya don’t gotta be sorry.” Sniper says, still looking at Scout despite the lack of eye contact. “I wouldn’t ‘ve told ya if i didn’t want to.”

The odd thickness in the air has returned full force. Scout hates how often he causes it. Brain overwhelmed and a little drunk, Scout sits there for a while, trying to think of an appropriate moment to bail. After a while he wraps it up, helps Sniper clean up their shared can mess, and says his goodbyes as quickly as he can so he can go to his room, lay down, and ignore all of the weird feelings bubbling up. He guesses his mission was successful at least, as he replays Sniper’s words in his head. Shoving everything down to the back of his brain, he changes into a shitty worn baseball tee and his boxers and goes the fuck to bed. He’ll process this when he’s not buzzed and tired, he tells himself- knowing damn well he won’t without it becoming more pressing. Can’t be getting distracted on the job.

Chapter Text

Scout, predictably, does not let himself think about it. He wakes up, does his job, and functions as normal as can be. He even got into the mvps on that day’s match, proving how unbothered he is. Clearly he’s a busy guy. He can’t be spending all his time thinking about something stupid and girly like feelings. Hell no! Scout’s a whole-ass man, who women love and men envy, and he’s not gonna let himself become a slacker because of one nerve-wracking conversation.

By the end of the day he’s ‘forgotten’ about it, which really means he’s shoved it down and ignored it and he’s keeping it there, where he doesn’t have to think about how vulnerable he was just the night before. He can’t avoid Sniper though, so he just… Pretends nothing happened. It goes over fairly easily, the two never mention their real names and the only thing that gets brought up is Sniper mentioning he goes out on the roof most nights and he doesn’t mind the company.

With such an open invitation, Scout can’t resist. Like, who else would offer to hang out with him so often? He’s either gonna make Sniper sick of him, quick, or he finally won’t get so bored when he can’t sleep- They already hang out later in the day anyways, why not just extend their time together a bit? Either way, he’s taking him up on the offer.

And he does, shows up late nights to Sniper’s camper, greeting him quickly before hauling himself up next to him. They don’t drink every night, thankfully, but it’s nice when they do. Mostly it’s just... How it was before. Just more often. He refuses to admit how much he enjoys the time they spend together, 'cuz he’s no softie, and that would probably just make things weird. Sniper doesn’t seem to have the wrong idea either, after all, it’s Scout that keeps choosing to show up.

One night, halfway through a story, Scout realizes a crucial member of this story is, in fact, a guy. Who he might’ve maybe kissed. Multiple times. Not like in a gay way! It was just practicing. With the boys. But regardless of how gay others may think it is, he’s a crucial part of the story, and Scout has to think of a way to, A; act like nothing that could be interpreted as gay ever happened, or B; act like this friend of his was a hot lady.

Scout’s brain may move fast, but not when it comes to realizations like that. He’s been sitting there, having stopped speaking mid-sentence, and Sniper is rightfully staring at him, only making him more worked up.

“Ya alright mate?”
“I uh- uh, yeah, I just remembered someone I forgot about, its nothin'”

Sniper looks at him skeptically, but lets it go, waiting for Scout to continue his story. Of course Scout is awful at any sort of cover-up, so he picks option B and adds in some extra things about what a hot chick this lady friend was and how she was so into him and the other girls wished they were her- And at this point Sniper has picked up that this whole relationship with this girl is complete bullshit, but he’s too invested in where Scout will take this to say anything.

After Scout finishes the story, Sniper finally speaks up and says “That was certainly wild mate. I think it’s more of a wild notion that you were such a high-school heartthrob though.” with a small smirk on his face. Scout immediately flusters, because oh my GOD what reason would he have to lie about that? Sniper definitely thinks he’s a nancy boy, what the fuck does he say?

“What, ya don’t think women want me? Look at this, man.” He flexes, and Sniper just shakes his head. “Not that, neva said that. Just that.. I didn’t take you as a popular one. Figured you wouldn’t ‘ve ended up here.”

Scout thinks for a moment, fidgeting with his hands. “You essentially just called yourself and the rest of the team losers.” Scout points out. At that, Sniper throws back his head and laughs. Scout watches his chest shake with it.

“‘Spose you’re right about that. Not exactly wrong though.” he says, laughter dying down to soft chuckles. “Not certain about any of the rest ‘ve the team, but I’ve never been a ladies man.”

Scout stares at him for a second.

“ARE YOU A VIRGIN?!”

Sniper bursts out laughing, and Scout can’t help but laugh along. “WHAT?! I never said anything about that, you wanka!” And Scout just teasingly nods and mumbles a condescending “Yeah, sure” as he giggles.

“No it’s like- I’ve been with people before. Just not a lot, that’s what I was saying. Heartthrobs usually don’t end up assassins.” Sniper says, shifting uncomfortably, obviously flustered now.

“Yeah alright, I believe ya and everythin’, but your experiences are NOT universal. So many women go crazy for me, it's ridiculous. Have you seen me out on the field?” Scout fires back, refusing to drop the ‘women want me’ act. To be fair, it’s not like Scout hasn’t been with women before! Just.. also not a lot. A lot more time was spent in shitty run down diners in the very back making eyes at the guy sitting across from him. But that’s not important, what’s important is that Sniper is still laughing, and Scout really likes it.

“What, you jealous? I thought you were the type to attract a lady now and again.” He says, hoping to spur on the conversation. Sniper chuckles some more at that and hangs his head playfully, shaking it for the millionth time.

“T’ be quite honest, haven’t been with anyone in ages.”

Scout reacts immediately with surprise, exclaiming a quick “What?! Cmon man, you’ve gotta be pulling my leg.”

“‘M not, just how it is.”

“That's ridiculous. What’ve you been doing wrong? You’re a good lookin' guy!” He blurts before even thinking of the awkward nature of the comment. He feels himself heat up a bit, but Sniper seems to look over it.

“Just don’t ‘ave time. With work an’ all, I just haven’t found someone who interests me enough." Sniper says, looking up at the sky. Scout isn’t sure why, but something about what Sniper said makes his stomach flutter a little. That's weird.

Scout goes on to coax a story out of Sniper about his first relationship. It’s nothing too special, a girl asked him out late middle school and he said yes, and he was so bored in the relationship he broke up with her after 2 weeks. Still though, Scout listens intently, happy to have Sniper there, talking to him, telling him about himself-

God, okay, maybe that isn’t buried as deep as he thought. He’ll try to be less clingy. They go back and forth for a good while, until eventually the two of them just sit in silence, looking up at the night sky. Scout is hyper aware of how close Sniper is sitting to him, despite the fact that they aren’t even touching. Every once in a while since that night where they got drunk together, Scout finds himself feeling really nervous around Sniper. After thinking about it for a second, he writes it off as social anxiety surrounding what Sniper thinks of him. After all, that was a major fumble he pulled.

Naturally, being faced with real life emotions, Scout decides to do what he did last time and what he does best: Run! He hurriedly says his goodbyes, and runs down to his room. Listening to the thump of his feet against the ground as he runs grounds him, so when he gets back to his room he just lays down, and wills himself not to think about it anymore. Clearly if it feels so bad, he doesn’t need to dwell on it. This is working anyways, he gets to have a good time with Sniper and he can just walk away when the air feels like molasses and he can’t think straight. Whatever is making him act so weird will probably go away if he just keeps hanging out with Sniper. People get nervous about new stuff all the time, so he just has to wait until this isn’t new. Yeah! He’ll be fine. He doesn’t need to sit up at night and think about it, so he should stop and just go to bed or whatever.

Despite his efforts, Scout doesn’t sleep very well.

He wakes up later than usual, Stumbling down to the kitchen, finding that most of the food is already gone. He gets what’s left, and sits down at the nearest seat to scarf down his food before his usual morning run. To be fair, he’s still down before Sniper, if that counts for anything.

Pyro and Engineer have wandered outside, Pyro trying to explain something about his gun through his mask, when instead of the door slamming shut carelessly like usual, Sniper catches the door and comes into the kitchen as well. Scratch that, he barely made it here before Sniper.

Sniper looks at him for a second before walking to the actual kitchen-food-making-area of the kitchen. Scout didn’t realize he was staring until Sniper looked over and they locked eyes. As soon as Sniper looks away, Scout feels his stomach do a little backflip. He suddenly doesn’t feel hungry anymore, abandoning his plate on the nearest surface to whoever has dish duties dismay, gets up and wanders outside- and passes past Engineer and Pyro sitting on the ground with no words. In an effort to push down whatever the hell is making him feel so weird, he’s laser focused on getting anywhere he can run laps. Usually, he’d be excited to talk to the others, but Scout’s brain can only handle so much input when he’s literally taking a fucking bat and beating the shit out of the part of his brain that keeps acting weird.

When he gets to a good spot, he runs like his life depends on it.

Chapter Text

Regardless of if his run made him feel better, Scout needs to drink water to keep himself functioning, so he's sitting down taking a break. His legs were starting to get sore, but he's considering continuing to run if it helped at all. Lost in thought, his hands idly fiddling with the bandages on his calloused hands, he doesn’t notice the person awkwardly standing behind him.

Sniper, starting to regret his decision of walking all the way out here, can see that Scout is completely zoned in on... Whatever he’s thinking about. He reconsiders asking Scout to come with, but his thoughts are abruptly stopped by Scout very barely grazing him as he gets up to return to his run. Scout immediately flails and spins around, damn near hitting Sniper in the face as he lets out a long string of profanities. After a moment of Scout freaking out, he calms down a bit and looks at Sniper skeptically.

“The fuck, man?”

“Sorry, sorry, I was just- I was comin down ‘ere to check in on you, maybe see if you’d like to run to the shop with me? Engie’s makin’ me go this time.”

Scout brushes some loose dirt off of his pants, idly finding ways to occupy his hands without drawing too much attention to himself.

“Ah- well, why ya askin me? You think i got a shoppin list or somethin?”
“Nah, just figured you’d like to get out of the base for a bit. Been seeming pretty antsy lately.”

Scout just kinda stares at him for a second, running the interactions and its implications through his head. Was it that obvious that something was bothering him? To be fair, Sniper wasn’t wrong, and usually he tagged along either way, so Sniper asking logically shouldn’t mean anything. But Scout was sitting there, overthinking it, and as soon as he realized how long he’d been quiet, he blurted out whatever response he thought of. “Yeah, of course man!”

Okay. Well, despite being awkward and obviously rushed, it was a response and he was gonna stick to it like the stubborn idiot he is.

Sniper just smiles at him and starts walking away, Scout only assuming he’s supposed to tag along. Sniper does that a lot, actually. Doesn’t really answer, just starts doin’. To be fair, it seems to be pretty productive for him, so Scout can’t really complain. Either way, he’s signed up to get in Sniper’s van and ride along to whatever shitty supermarket is closest to the land Red and Blu Mann are fighting over right now.

The drive is nothing special, it’s not too long and Scout is surprisingly quiet. Sniper chalks it up to being tired from his run, but to be quite honest he’s worried about the guy. Then again, isn’t really his place to prod now, is it? So he just turns on his shitty car cassette player and slips in whatever cassette is closest. Scout makes a quip about Sniper’s music taste and he feels a bit more at ease. The guy’s probably just getting burnt out. 

By the time they’re at the market, Scout seems to have loosened up a bit. The people bustling around and the background noise of people chattering and the whir of the cheap air conditioner seems to put Scout at ease somewhat. Sniper pulls out a cart, and Scout walks over and throws himself in as if it's some sort of routine. Sniper looks at him incredulously.

“What the fuck?”
“Start pushin, we got a hungry team back at base.”

At that, Sniper just starts laughing, places his hands on the cart, and pushes. He’s surprisingly strong for how lean he is, but to be fair a shopping cart makes the job of carrying a full grown man a bit easier. People stare, but Sniper can’t bring himself to care, Scout looking so childishly overjoyed to be in the cart and bossing him around, trying to convince him to buy some shitty chips only he would eat. It makes Sniper’s heart ache a little, seeing him so unashamedly happy after spending the last couple days sulking around the base. Scout babbles on about one thing or another, finally filling up the empty space like he always does.

Sniper knows he’s gonna get in trouble with Miss Pauling as soon as she finds out he bought stuff they didn’t really need, but seeing Scout so happy makes him decide that he can deal with the consequences later. He doesn’t know why he likes the little brat so much. Realistically, he should find him just as annoying as the rest of the team but- something about Scout just lures him in.

While driving back to camp, Sniper almost swerves off the road with the realization he has a soft spot for the guy. And that he can probably guess the reason why. Sniper’s usually a pretty good driver, so Scout pauses his story as he jumps and throws some lighthearted insults at Sniper. Sniper just glances at him, and resigns to deal with this when he’s alone. Dead focused on getting back so he can take a step back and come up with what he’s gonna do next, he doesn’t notice Scout asking him something.

All of the cheering up the trip seemed to do for Scout seems to wash away as soon as he realizes Sniper wasn’t listening to him. So he shuts up. He looks out the window at the passing shitty desert fields and ugly dead plants scattered about it. Scout usually keeps talking regardless of if someone’s listening, but with Sniper- part of it was that he actually listened to him. He actually remembered things. So this unexpectedly punches Scout in the gut, and he feels childish for being so hurt. He wishes he could just man up and keep talking but he can’t find the words, seeming to get caught in his throat every time he looks over at the man driving. He’s so angry at himself for being so upset about something so stupid, that he wordlessly wanders out of the van as soon as it stops and finds his way to his room to lay the fuck down.

Whatever he’s been pushing down about Sniper hasn’t been staying down, and Scout makes the dreadful realization he’s gonna have to face it sooner or later and it isn’t just going to disappear if he pretends it isn't there.

Sniper doesn’t exactly feel much better than Scout. He drops off the groceries into the makeshift mess hall the team set up and promptly walks up to his van and boils a large pot of coffee. He rubs his eyes in frustration. It takes him a while to realize when the coffee is finished. Walking over to his bed, he sits down and slouches over the cup in his hand, fully processing the realization back in the car.

Sniper’s known he’s gay. It’s not news to him, having had few relationships at all to avoid the pure discomfort of dating someone he isn’t attracted to- or keeping a relationship secret. It’s very rare for him to find someone he finds attractive enough to actually develop feelings for them that could extend into a proper relationship, so he just… Avoids it.

He doesn’t mind being inexperienced, he’s good at what he does and relationships are just not something he does. But sometimes these rare scenarios come up where he finds himself aching for another man enough that he finds it hard to look away. And it’s certainly been developing for a while now. Sniper isn’t ashamed to admit he.. Observed, and he knew that Scout was certainly attractive to him. He assumed it would just stay there though- him admiring from a distance and nothing more, but now he’s found himself actually soft for him. He figured he would feel like the rest of the team, find him annoying or grating, but here he was, Scout being the most frequent visitor to his van, his own private space besides himself.

Scout was the only one to consistently check in on him. While it's not like the team doesn’t care for each other, Scout showed up time and time again, always there to smile at him and tell him some bland story as if it was the most exciting thing that ever happened to him. In retrospect, it makes sense that this happened. It wasn’t exactly a smart move to hang around someone you already knew you were attracted to, but again- Scout just has this pull to him. If he’s so annoying, nobody would want to be around him, right? But still, people tolerate him even when they hate him and hang out with him even as he makes up absolute bullshit to make himself look cool. Scout just naturally draws people to him with his fumbling charisma and somewhat friendly demeanor. So of course Sniper was blinded as he slowly grew attached to the other man.

Sniper takes a long sip of his coffee, and curses himself for letting himself fall so easily.

Chapter Text

Scout continues to push it down. He shouldn’t be so attached to Sniper. He shouldn’t be so sensitive to something so little. He shouldn’t be so hurt. Realistically, sitting down and just fucking working through his emotions instead of avoiding them like a coward would make this all hurt a lot less- but the burning anger sprouting from shame tells him he deserves the hurt. So as some fucked up form of emotional torture, he continues to deny himself any closure. He grits his teeth and works hard and smiles and laughs at his teammates jokes and tells the same stupid fucking stories and it’s all just fucking fine. He’s not exactly good at hiding when something is messing with him though, as hard as he tries.

Sniper has made a similar decision, though a bit more… emotionally informed. He’s not gonna let his feelings make him lose his job. He’s a professional. He can cope. Nothing has to change between the two, and Sniper will just have to keep his head up and be a little strong. It’s harder than it sounds though, especially when you pride yourself in your professionalism. It gets a little hard not to beat yourself up about it. He’s a grown man though, not some squealing teenage girl, so he just moves on like life is perfectly average, regardless of if he tosses and turns at night worrying about the boy, wondering why Scout has been so rigid lately.

Things are different between them. Scout seems like he’s ready to leave every time Sniper walks into sight, and Sniper’s quieter, which is quite a feat when he already talks very little.

It all comes to a head when Scout is in the communal kitchen late at night, raiding the fridge for any sort of alcoholic beverage he can stomach right now, when Sniper stumbles in, Sunglasses off and hair somewhat ruffled under his hat, shirt half untucked. Scout makes eye contact with him for a moment, and promptly feels his heart drop out of his ass. Wordlessly, he turns back to the fridge, looking for basically anything he can pick up and fucking dip with. As he rummages through the fridge, Sniper just sits down on the table and watches. Scout pulls out a bottle of beer Soldier asked for and as he starts to turn away from the fridge, Sniper pipes up and asks “Grab me one too would ya?”

Scout tenses a bit, but turns around and picks one up for him as well. He closes the refrigerator door with his hip and walks over to Sniper, placing the bottle next to him. Standing closer to him, Scout can smell the faint scent of sweat and the laundry detergent he uses. He doesn’t like how it makes his stomach churn. He just stands there for a second, unsure of what to do.

“Been awful quiet lately. Feels odd to be the only one talkin right now.” Sniper hums, and Scout blinks at him.

Sniper picks up his bottle and passes it from one hand to another.

“I hate to pry, but I’m worried about you, Roo.”

It isn’t the first time Sniper has called him that. It pulls at something deep inside him this time though. He can feel himself crumbling a little inside. He rubs a hand down his face and sighs.

“Jus got a lot on my mind right now, ‘s all.”

Sniper looks up at him.

“You’re allowed to have problems, Scout.”

Scout crumbles more. All the hurt weighing down on his shoulders feels less buffered and it’s all too much and- fuck he should just get out of here- but before he can start walking Sniper is speaking again.

“None of my business if you don’t want it to be. All I’m saying is it’s just us down here right now.”

Scout lets out a long sigh and looks down at his feet. He knows he isn’t gonna talk about his feelings no matter how much Sniper may press- but Snipers display of vulnerability, although awkward and terrifying, is challenging a lot of the self loathing, and making all of these feelings bubble up uncontrollably, and it’s beyond frustrating because he’s working so damn hard at pushing all this shit away, and Sniper’s just here, pushing all the wrong buttons, and god- he really just wants to relax with his friend again.

“What’s with the serious act? Why don’t we just head back to the van, hang out like dudes do?”
Scout offers, a somewhat indirect ‘let's not talk about it’.

Sniper knows something is up, but isn’t one to try and press this much. After all, they’re just coworkers, aren’t they?

“Y’kno, like we always do.”
Scout adds on, after Sniper didn’t say anything.

Sniper just nods, and hops up, carrying his drink in his right hand, left hanging loosely by his side.

“Well then, let's get a move on now, Roo.”

Scout just watches him move for a short moment as if to verify he could come along, before jerking into a walk behind Sniper.

As it usually is with their late night adventures, it’s relatively quiet out. The walk up to where Sniper’s camper is parked is relatively short, but it helps that they try to move fast. It feels a little like a secret, every time Scout goes out with Sniper like this for some reason. It’s not like they’re doing anything wrong, yet it feels like sneaking out of your parents house as a kid.

Sniper opens the door, and the door itself protests by creaking and groaning as it opens. Scout doesn’t know when the van’s door hinges got fucked up. It hits him how much he’s missed the place over the weeks he spent sulking. Being in the van is always somewhat comforting, how messy and alive it is inside cultivating a deep sense of familiarity. Sniper rarely cleans up the stuff he doesn’t need to, as long as he knows where everything is. Piles of magazines stacked up atop each other, most of them seemingly unread, from the amount of dust gathering on the covers. Sniper is a bit of a collector, having explained to Scout that he would just grab magazines from waiting rooms of various buildings and make a run for it. Because magazines are regularly replaced and not particularly valuable, he hasn’t gotten in trouble for it once.

Stuff like that is the kind of thing Scout really admires about Sniper. He’s laid back, yet can tell you the stupidest stories like it was just another tuesday. He guesses it comes with being australian.

Scout feels odd being back though, unsure if his little hiatus had changed how he was supposed to act. He‘s tired of thinking so much, so worn out from all this time spent worrying about what’s wrong with him- so he resigns to sitting down on the couch like he always does, waiting for Sniper to come up with something to do.

After a short wait, Sniper walks over and starts messing with the dials on his TV set. The signal out here is awful, but the janky set can pick up a couple channels. Sniper eventually steps back from the TV with a shitty soap opera playing. The selection makes Scout laugh.

“Dude, c’mon. I did not come down here to watch housewives wail.”

Sniper lets out a laugh at that, sitting down next to Scout.
“It aint your television, now is it?”

Scout just lets out a little chuckle at that. He knows logically that every time Sniper turns on the TV, they just end up talking over it, so the channel selection doesn’t particularly matter.

Scout wishes he could say that his nerves went away due to the familiarity. It’s rather the opposite, really. Being near Sniper is making everything that’s been bouncing around in his head grow all the more hyper-active and difficult to avoid. As he tries his hardest to sit still and not draw attention to himself- which is very difficult, by the way- he comes to the terrible realization he’s gonna have to deal with this. He can’t just avoid Sniper all the time, But being around him is making him feel all sorts of awful, and he has no other options. Naturally, having had this realization while with Sniper means he can’t do anything about it right now, which makes it all the more likely he just… won’t do it when he has the chance. Out of all of the times he’s ran from this situation, this is the one time it would be a good idea.

Thinking about it though, Sniper knows something is up. If he were to walk away from the situation, he’d be making the same decision he’s been making, and considering that he now knows that strategy is drawing attention... he can’t.

He’s run away too many times, and now he’s out of options.

Chapter Text

Sniper has difficulty reading others. It’s part of the reason he became such a good Sniper. Little required social interaction and little empathy for those around him make it all that much easier to just hole up in a nest and pop some heads. Like he’s said before, he’s good at what he does.

So Sniper is completely out of his depth here. Even with his social difficulties, it's obvious something is wrong with Scout, and he can only assume it’s something he did. He doesn’t know what to do in this situation, having already asked if somethings up and being shut down. Pressing harder could cause more problems, but if he does nothing, maybe he’s being oblivious to something he needs to apologize for.

To be honest, he’s mad at Scout for… well. Making things so complicated. If he never- If Scout had never got himself all up in Sniper’s business, he wouldn’t have ever gotten this attached. He would have never felt concerned enough to be trying things outside of his skillset.

He knows that isn’t right though. He knows Scout has absolutely no idea how much he cares for him, and it isn’t his fault he wanted a friend. In the end, It’s his fault for letting himself grow so attached. But how couldn’t he? Letting his eyes drift over to the man seated next to him, blankly staring at the drama unfurling on the TV, He doesn’t see how one could deny how appealing the man is. Physically, the man is quite attractive, his flaws only making him all the more endearing to look at. He may be all over the place, but the way he lights up when passionate about something and his toleration of Sniper’s fumbling social skills all bubble up in his mind as he looks at the man.

His head feels light, and he’s fairly certain he’s staring at this point. His suspicion is confirmed when Scout turns his head and looks at him, brows furrowing a little.

He just blinks, looking back at him, before turning away and mumbling apologies under his breath.

Scout is maybe panicking a little. He’s being forced to think about hard things while right next to the person who’s been stirring it all up, and he must be so obviously bothered that Sniper’s staring at him. Sitting still and saying nothing is making his skin crawl, the urge to do something jittering around under his skin. He feels like he’s going to explode if he just keeps sitting here, so against his better judgment, he finally breaks the silence.

“I’m uh. I’m sorry for worrying you.”

When Sniper looks over at him, Scout is already looking just beside the TV, staring at nothing rather than Sniper in hopes to save some pride from what he’s saying.

“I don’t really know what’s wrong with me either.”

Sniper doesn’t say anything. He’s too afraid of saying the wrong thing.

Scout's breath stutters a little, and his eyes flick over to Sniper’s just for a second.

“I just. I feel like I talk too much.” he finally admits, with a heavy sigh escaping him as he says it.

Sniper’s face contorts into a confused expression at this. He never really thought of Scout to be the kind of person to let something like this bother him. To be fair, the guy does talk a lot, but Sniper never really minded. Even when he found himself annoyed by the younger man, slowing down and just responding from time to time could steer the conversation in a less grating direction. Scout’s ramblings were uncharacteristically comforting. Sniper never cared much for conversation, but Scout’s unfaltering energy and excitement always made for a different experience than with many of the people he had previously interacted with for such an extended period of time.

After a moment of thought, Sniper shrugs. “I don’t think you talk too much.”

Scout glances over at him again. “Yeah?”

Sniper nods, idly fidgeting with his hands. “I like to listen to you talk.”

Scout says nothing. Just looks back at the TV again, an unreadable expression on his face. If Sniper had to guess, it looked like confusion but… not quite. Sniper had never been good at identifying that sort of thing, so he resigned himself to look at the TV as well.

They sat there for a while. Scout made some idle comments about what he could gather from the shitty signal in Sniper’s cabin while Sniper quietly observed him, trying to understand what was going through the younger man’s head. At least he was talking again. When Scout announced his departure, Sniper didn’t try to stop him. They had both wandered outside of their comfort zone. Sniper himself needed to take a breather to process things, and he was quite sure Scout felt similarly, due to their self-admitted similarities.

So Scout leaves. He walks out of Sniper’s camper, tired and mind swimming with unfinished thoughts. He almost walks past his room in the process, but manages to catch himself before wandering too far. Laying down, he’s exhausted to say the least. But he knows he isn’t going to be falling asleep any time soon.

Running through what just happened in his head, he finds himself getting caught on what Sniper said. Or to be more accurate, the reaction it pulls from him. This had all been because of Sniper. Something about that man had always… complicated him. He figured it was just him getting overly attached, but as he lets himself think harder on the subject, he finds himself noticing his own behaviors more.

Scout feels really weird whenever he’s around Sniper. It started out with that heavy feeling, but as the time went on it developed into this almost sickeningly overwhelming feeling, his mind always racing a little too fast to focus on the fact that his heart is beating out of his chest and he feels like he needs much more air than he’s getting.

When Sniper said that, it didn’t shock him or anything. He knew there had to be some reason the guy had let him hang around in the past. But when he said it, he basically felt his heart drop out of his ass.

That was always it. The fact that he had no answer to the reason Sniper could pull so many feelings out of him.

Then, the thought crosses his mind.

What if Sniper was a girl?

Before his train of thought can even become a coherent internal monologue, the train metaphorically runs off the fucking tracks and breaks through this wall that he’s been building for a while now.

He realizes, through the carnage of this metaphorical wall, that he likes Sniper more than any man should like another man.

His face feels hot, and he’s not sure if it’s the embarrassment, the anger, or the shame causing it.

It’s not that things wouldn’t change if Sniper was a girl. It’s that Scout likes Sniper as he is. Not particularly feminine or even androgynous, with his tall build and 5-o-clock shadow he can’t seem to rid himself of. He smells of sweat and occasionally laundry detergent, and his voice is undeniably deep compared to that of a woman. He sits in a post and shoots at whoever he’s matched up against, with his stupid hat and his sunglasses that fall just a little bit every time he gets surprised. He fucking pisses in jars, and he doesn’t have tits, and he’s not a woman at all and Scout likes him .

Scout doesn’t even really feel disgusted. He’s ashamed, yes, but thinking about Sniper like this doesn’t make him feel gross at all. It had never really crossed his mind that other men didn’t admire their male friends like he did. Now that he’s made the realization that he, in fact, is having gay feelings for one of his best friends and coworkers, He realizes that he’s never felt gross for how he felt about other men, and he doesn’t now, even with the whole horrible realization that he’s gay.

He can’t help but wonder what it’s like. Scout had… Practiced with a few buddies back at home, but it was never anything actually gay. They were just learning how to kiss so they could kiss girls better. But now he’s thinking of it without any girls involved.

He wonders what Sniper’s stubble would feel like against his own mouth.

A part of him is begging him to stop thinking like this, but he’s not sure he can at this point.

He wonders what Sniper would taste like. Probably like tobacco and coffee, but to be fair Scout doesn’t smoke so he can’t really place what that would taste like.

He stops himself after reminding himself how Sniper might feel about this. His heart is pounding and he’s certain he’s blushing like a schoolgirl but it’s just him, alone in his dark room, and now that he’s done the whole realization thing, he has to remind himself that it could never work.

Two men could never be a couple. It just wouldn’t work- A couple required a girl. And even if it didn’t, Sniper didn’t seem gay at all. Sniper showed no signs of being gay, much less liking him to the degree Scout liked him.

As hard as he tries though, it doesn’t stop him from wanting it.

He had repressed this for far longer than was healthy, and now it had grown into this massive thing he didn’t know how to deal with.

He rolls over and wills himself to stop thinking about it. He’s only going to make himself worked up, may as well save that for tomorrow’s battle.

He thinks they’ll be on opposite teams tomorrow, so at least he can avoid the guy.

Chapter Text

Fighting is usually the one place Scout can get away from Sniper. With Scout on the frontlines and Sniper supporting from afar, they hardly interact, aside from the occasional headshot- though depending on who’s on what team, sometimes it’s Scout getting shot in the head. Work generally doesn’t affect the team outside the battlefield much, as separating work from breaktime makes it much easier to work together when the teams are scrambled up.

That doesn’t mean they never interact however. Scout’s saved Sniper's ass a few times from a cocky Pyro, and Sniper might end up getting a shot on the heavy pushing towards Scout. Today it’s a bit of the opposite however, with Sniper quickly getting a shot on an oblivious Demoman, and with just a tilt of his scope he can see Scout waving his middle finger at him, shotgun hanging loosely from his other hand.

Just because it’s entertaining though doesn’t mean he doesn’t do his job.

He doesn’t hesitate to shoot Scout.

It is a little jarring to switch from having just spent the last night with Scout, to blowing his brains out on the field, but he has a job to do and respawn is working just fine.

He goes on shooting at BLU for a short while. It’s shaping up to be a pretty relaxed match for him, the payload inching along so slowly his team hardly needs his support. The thought crosses his mind that maybe last night is distracting Scout, but he waves it off as projecting.

He’s not expecting it when Scout runs into the post he’s hiding out in. With a manic sort of grin, Scout winds up a hefty swing with his bat, and before Sniper can react, his head is done in. He supposes he deserves it, but usually Scout has more important things to worry about that aren’t getting revenge on the guy who shot you and your teammate down.

A little dizzy from the respawn, he finds himself another post and grits his teeth. He’s not petty normally, but you can bet he wants to match Scout’s energy. He keeps an extra eye out for Scout, observing the areas he flanks the most when BLU isn’t standing still enough for a good shot.

Scout seems to be keeping an eye out for him too though. Every time Sniper thinks he has a solid shot on the little rascal, He ducks out of the way. Although he never gets a good look at his face, he can vividly imagine the cocky smile on his face each time he dodges a bullet from Sniper. He wants, more than anything, to knock that smile off of his face right now. 

After a bit of a mishap with Spy, Sniper has to move posts. If he stuck in the same spot, BLU would know just where to shoot.

Due to their friendship, from time to time Scout would find himself in one of Sniper’s posts, taking a medpack or a reload that few others would be using. Sniper had mentioned offhandedly how nice it was to have them to himself one time, so of course Scout took that as an invitation. Or maybe he just saw an opportunity and took it.

So, he’s a little surprised when Scout, now on the enemy team, comes stumbling into his post with a clearly injured leg. It occurs to him that Scout likely didn’t notice he had changed posts, and had been going into this once-unused post to heal.

He isn’t a man to pass up on an opportunity like this. Scout hasn’t noticed him over by the busted window, and with him injured, Sniper could easily win a close combat fight with him.

With Scout’s back turned, Sniper tries to get a little closer, but staying unnoticed isn’t his strong suit. Scout whips his head around and goes pale when he makes eye contact with Sniper, just a few feet away.

In a desperate attempt to keep him from fleeing, Sniper shoves him roughly, and he lands on his backside with a grunt. For some reason, Scout isn’t reacting as quickly as he would’ve in any other scenario, but Sniper doesn’t have time to dwell on this. Even injured, the kid is fast, and he certainly wants this kill after he evaded so many of his shots.

Scout starts to scramble to his feet “ah, uh… think about this man, is this really what you wanna do?”. Sniper absent-mindedly points out internally it would’ve been smarter to try to arm himself, and kicks him back down. He unsheathes his kukri, but the idiot keeps trying to get back up. In a burst of adrenaline, he tackles Scout, kukri clanging against the ground and sending an unpleasant amount of force straight to his wrist. With a growl, he takes the blade and stabs it into Scout’s chest.

To his surprise, Scout doesn’t say anything. He cries out at the pain, of course, but no words actually form. Sniper feels all too personal sitting on top of him like this, especially when Scout lets out a sound between a desperate gasp and a whimper as he paws at the blade buried in his chest. With a grimace, he pulls the machete from his chest, and Scout tilts his head back, lips parting with a silent scream. His hands are warm and wet from the blood gushing from the hole in the man’s chest. 

Before he can process all of this, the Scout goes still.

He wipes a bloodied hand down his face as he grumbles, getting up from practically straddling the other’s now unmoving corpse. He doesn’t want to look at him right now, feeling dirty for the filthy connections his over-excited brain is trying to make. 

Sniper’s never really felt good about… well. Having a sexuality. It’s hard to be comfortable with being gay, and many don’t make it as far as he has, to a point where he can say that he is, in fact, a homosexual man. That doesn’t mean the shame wasn’t taught to him too. He’s fine with being gay, really. The issue is other people.

That’s kind of been the case with everything else though, so he’s not sure why this shame is so deeply rooted in him.

He can admit to himself he never wants to be with a woman, he can admit to himself he’s always found men more interesting and hell, he can even admit he fancies his coworker, but as soon as there’s any real emotion it sparks this burning shame in him. He can say that Scout’s pretty, but when he’s on top of him and Scout’s gasping for air… Sniper’s pretty sure he was too, despite not being the one with the hole in his chest.

He can accept that he feels this way, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t realize it’s unnatural and he should be ashamed. And he certainly feels the shame.

Scout gets revenge on him, as expected, but he doesn’t retaliate. His perversions have taken all of that blind fun out of competing with a friend. When the tip of Scout’s gun hits the back of his head, he knows he’s a goner in more than one way.

Chapter Text

Team rotations are usually hit or miss. Because there’s only 9 of them, there’s always a bigger team, and sometimes it ends up ridiculously unbalanced. They’re all good at their job, of course, but combatting an Engineer is usually best done by Demoman, which the RED team did not have. Sniper and the rest of RED get their ass handed to them, and the teams are promptly re-scrambled after one round to still be ridiculously unbalanced, but this time Sniper’s on BLU with Scout. With Spy on RED now, maybe RED will stand a chance against Engineer’s Sentries.

RED did not stand a chance against Engineer’s sentries. Even with Heavy and Medic pushing forward and Soldier trying his damndest to capture the point, Engineer has cleverly placed the sentries around corners where RED can’t see or shoot them until it’s too late. Spy tries to get to them, but Engineer is always hidden away nearby and isn’t stupid enough to think Scout would be standing still next to the sentry. So… with Demo and Engie parked over by the control point with Sniper backing them up from a distant post, Scout doesn’t have much to do besides surprise Pyro whenever they try to flank. Getting cocky, he tries to push back against RED completely on his own, instead of just holding down the point. Scout’s offense, he doesn’t want to be stuck in one place constantly checking for Spy or Pyro.

Of course he gets killed, he wasn’t really expecting not to, but doing nothing is driving him crazy. With his mind hazy from respawn and the last round fresh in his mind, his immediate reflex is to sneak into Sniper’s post and beat his ass until he feels better. Halfway there, he remembers they’re on the same team now. Okay, so a slight change of plans. He’s gonna go up there and annoy him until they need him on the frontlines again. Next best thing to beating the shit out of him!

Scout loudly announces his presence by dragging his bat behind him so it thunks against every step he goes up. By the time he can see Sniper, He’s scowling down his scope, clearly taking offense against the disruption to his focus. Scout walks riiiiight up behind him, and Sniper can imagine the stupid grin stretched across his face as he leans over and officially announces his presence. “No autographs, please.” he says far too loud for how close he is. “Never asked for one.” Sniper says, continuing to try and ignore Scout’s pestering. “You should be. You know who I am, pal?” Sniper finally turns away from his scope to look at Scout skeptically before huffing out a low laugh. Scout laughs too, but continues his spiel about how awesome he is and how honored Sniper should be that he’s talking to him. Sniper just hums along and makes faces while he stares down his scope, until eventually Scout runs out of reasons he’s famous.

Scout looks out the window Snipers shooting from, and there’s hardly any action. Sniper seems to be focused on taking out Spy, now that he has tabs on all of his teammates. Scout just hovers over Sniper’s shoulder, wishing there was a less awkward way to watch him work.

“...Could ya maybe sit over there?” Sniper says, gesturing with his head vaguely in the direction of a crate. Scout huffs and mumbles something about “not appreciating him” and “celebrity disrespect” as he walks over to the crate. Sitting himself down on the uncomfortable surface, he takes a moment to observe the room.

This post is hardly any different from the rest in Scout’s eyes. Where they’re currently working is a bore, the somewhat yellow sand hardly standing out against the dull, dusty buildings that are half-way to falling apart. When Scout really needs to be out there running around, he always finds himself jumping off of ledges that collapse under his weight. The use of pallets as makeshift bridges which are unstable at best keep Scout on his toes anytime he decides to get out of the heat of the sun. Unlike Scout, Sniper always seems to take his time checking out an area, finding a few nests with decent support and a window or opening to shoot out of. Sometimes Scout finds himself envious of Sniper’s patience, both in work and in leisure. The man’s ability to stare down his scope for ages, staying in a select few locations, waiting for someone to run in front of his scope when he isn’t scoping in on someone he can see already- it all seems far too boring for him. Not that it's bad work, certainly not, but that he’s sure he’d find himself bored up here.

He doesn’t feel bored with Sniper though. He directs his eyes towards anything that isn’t Sniper, but he’s running out of options of things to stare at, and he should probably at least seem a little engaged. He opens his mouth to start rambling about how boring it is here, but when his eyes catch up to his head he finds himself distracted.

Nothing particularly abnormal is happening, but the way the sunlight bathes his figure in a warm glow, glinting off of the shiny barrel of his rifle, coming off as backlit from his perspective… Scout opts for worrying his lower lip between his teeth. Sniper cocks his head a little, and Scout can imagine the way his face scrunches up as he squints down his scope. Sniper widens his stance, leaning slightly to the left, and moments later Scout hears the mind-numbingly close sound of him firing. Scout smiles a little, and Sniper lets out some soft chuckles, indicating that the shot went just where he wanted it to. Something about the low rumble of Sniper’s voice radiating through the mostly empty room makes Scout's stomach tie itself in a knot. Before he can process that it’s over, Sniper’s usual silence washes over the room. Scout sets his bat down fully with a clank that would be quiet in any other room than this one, and shifts backwards, placing the weight of his upper body on his arms behind him, elbows straight and shoulders tensed. Sniper glances over his shoulder as if he forgot he was there, and mumbles something too low for Scout to hear. Scout picks at his hand wraps as Sniper repositions once more, tilting his head downward and straightening his posture. He lifts his head to look above his scope, and Scout watches the way the muscles connecting his shoulders to his neck shift with the simple motion.

Just a moment later, Sniper looks back down his scope and moves his rifle, following the motion of some far-away RED. He fires again, and Scout's heart skips a beat with the thunderclap of the rifle. It’s gotten hot all of a sudden, and his pulse is thumping in his ears as if he’s pushed himself too far on a run. Sniper’s right hand leaves the rifle, left hand still supporting it as he looks over at Scout again. “You don’t have to be quiet. RED’s not faring too well against those two.” he says, and his low voice breaking the quiet makes it hard to breathe. Scout opens his unexpectedly dry mouth and says “Just admiring a professional at work, that a crime?”. He tops off his question with a sly smirk and Sniper purses his lips at him. “Bullshit.” he says, but doesn’t press further. His hands return to his rifle, and he tilts his head to look past the long barrel of his gun.

Scout wants to say something, but everytime he fishes for some words they escape him. He can only watch Sniper’s fluid movements, expertly working his gun and shifting both the rifle and his body to get the aim just right. Beads of sweat are getting caught in the collar of his shirt, the sun’s cruel heat beating down on him through the window his rifle is poking out of. Scout watches them roll down the back of his neck. Sniper unexpectedly fires again, and huffs. Scout shifts his vision up towards Sniper actually working the rifle, and catches him quickly looking down his scope and firing again, this time muttering a low “There we go..” shortly after. Scout’s face heats up, tips of his ears burning. He doesn’t know why he’s reacting so strongly, this should be nothing, but Sniper fires again and practically GROWLS with the shot and Scout can hear his pulse roar and his breathing get shallow and-

He needs to leave. Right. Now.

He quickly stands up, picking up his bat next to him. He lightly thumps Sniper over the head and says “It’s boring up here anyways.” and slips down the stairs before Sniper can look at him.

He can’t believe himself. He figures out he’s gay and has feelings for a guy, stupidly goes to watch him work, and gets- flustered. Very flustered.

He’s pretty sure if Sniper turned around Scout would’ve just shot himself right there.

Who gets a hard-on just from looking at someone anyways?

…

Apparently him.

He goes back to pushing against RED on his own and getting killed repeatedly. He just wants to focus on something as the timer for the match runs out.

He takes a cold shower as soon as the match is over.

Chapter Text

He wants so badly for what Sniper said to be true. He wants to believe that he really does enjoy having him around. So he pushes it, comes over basically any time he thinks to. He lets himself loose, being all too vulgar and talking far too much with not enough breaks, pushing boundaries to solidify he not only belongs, but is wanted. He takes things out of Sniper’s minifridge without asking, and besides one teasing comment, Sniper says nothing. He makes insulting jokes, nothing. He acts like he just belongs in Sniper’s van. Nothing. The reaction he’s trying to pull from Sniper isn’t happening, and he only wants to push more. Fuck with him more. Make him tell him what he fears to be the truth.

So here he is for the second time that day, back in Sniper’s van. The sun is setting outside, the warm glow shining through the shutters in little thin strips. Scout is sitting on the sofa, taking up more space than he actually needs to as Sniper fiddles with the knobs on his TV, switching through channels.

Sniper groans lowly.
“Nothin good on?” Scout asks just a little too loud.

“Mmh. I’ll go make some coffee, you make yourself comfortable.” He answers, flicking off the TV and standing up from his kneeling position. He walks past Scout, pushing aside one of the sheets he has hanging from his ceiling. Sniper claims they’re a good way to separate the ‘rooms’ from each other and give him some privacy. Scout thinks they look pretty stupid. 

Bored, Scout gets up from the loveseat, and observes his surroundings, looking for something to do.

There’s like, two board games shoved under the TV. Boring. There’s some shitty movie and band posters on the walls. Boring, but it’s cool that he likes Elton John. There’s a little table sat next to a window with… Gun parts? Cluttering the surface. Boring. There’s a few stacks of magazines next to the TV.

Bingo.

He walks over to the stacks and observes them. Most of them are pretty boring or awful, half of them seeming to be shitty ladies diet magazines, which makes sense as he said he got these from waiting rooms. One of them catches his eye though, a shorter stack closer to the edges of the piles, with a fitness magazine on top. He didn’t think Sniper liked this kinda thing, he didn’t seem the bodybuilding type. Flipping through the pages of the magazine on top, some of the pages have small tears and one of the pages is ripped out.

It’s odd, but Scout doesn’t think much of it. He might just have found this magazine like this, throwing it onto a pile indiscriminately. 

But no. Under the magazine in his hand, He sees another. Same Magazine, different issue. Equally worn. Setting down the magazine he was holding, he picks up the next one, and squints at the words. After a couple read overs, he deciphers the letters to read “Demi-gods.” Opening it is just the same as the last. Worn pages, some more than others, all containing tips on bodybuilding and photos of half naked guys flexing. The next magazine is also demi-gods. He starts filtering through the pile, and they all seem to be the same. Different magazines, but all fitness.

He almost sets down the next one, but flipping through something catches his eye. 

Jesus christ.

Okay. well. He guesses it makes sense for him to be posing nude. It’s a fitness magazine, they’re showing off his….. Physique. 

The next page is weirder though. There’s two of them now, and this time they don’t even look that built. They’re smiling, and standing shoulder to shoulder, naked and. Kind of shockingly erect. Scout’s not sure what this has to do with bodybuilding. He flips to the next page and- 

Oh .

He gets it now.

On this page, the models from the last page are pictured together, their foreheads bumping as one of them takes the other in hand.

While Scout is staring dumbfounded at this discovery, the sound of footsteps grows closer.

He turns his head, and Sniper is holding a mug while standing still just close enough that he can probably see over Scout’s shoulder. Sniper’s face is flushed a rich shade of red, which Scout didn’t even know his face could do.

“Sorry!?” Scout blurts, and Sniper turns even more red, which is honestly kind of impressive.

Scout speaks quickly, stumbling over his words. “I uh. I didn’ know you’d have this, I was just.. Um..  bored, and I wanted to see what you had over here anyway and I had no idea you were a f- uh.”

Scout hesitates on the last word, memories of that word being thrown at him in highschool leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. Sniper looks really uncomfortable.

“A uh. A homosexual.” Scout finishes, tone quieter and slower than before. He can’t look away from Sniper, even though he REALLY wants to? This is so awkward and it is eating at him, stomach twisting sourly.

“...I guess I shoulda put that somewhere else.” Sniper says, flicking his eyes over to the magazine still open in his hand. Scout closes it and drops it. God. He feels so weird kneeling on the floor with Sniper tensely hovering over him, and he refuses to admit that he’s getting a little hot and bothered from this.

“I won’t tell anyone?” Scout says, turning to face Sniper more. Sniper’s face twists into a sort of grimace-frown.

“Why?”

Scout has to mull over that for a second.

“Well. You’re a good shot, An’ I don’t think somethin stupid like this should make you lose ya job.

…and uh. You’re my friend.” 

Scout shifts uncomfortably, looking down at his lap for a second before looking up again. Sniper drags his free hand down his face, before letting out a sigh.

“Yeah.”

Scout awkwardly shifts, before deciding he would rather not be on the floor anymore. He stands up, and Sniper steps back. Scout just looks at him for a second, before walking over to the sofa and unceremoniously dropping himself back on the couch.

“Turn on da TV. Unless you have sumthin else fun.”

It’s a poor attempt at changing the subject. Sniper shifts, face contorting into some mix of discomfort and surprise, before walking over and kneeling back in front of the television set, setting his mug down beside him to mess with the knobs. After about a minute fiddling with the knobs, Sniper huffs and reaches up to the antennae, trying to get the signal back.

The drone of the static with the adrenaline lingering from the previous events, Scout lets the back of his head hit the top of the sofa, letting his eyes shut.

He has no idea what to make of… all of this.

Homosexuality is unnatural, and Sniper appears to be one, but Scout can’t really be mad at Sniper, because Scout’s been a huge pervert recently, and may as well be a homosexual himself.

The thought makes him uncomfortable. He furrows his eyebrows and tries to ignore the pit in his stomach. How could he be such an idiot? In trying to make Sniper mad at him so he pushes him away, he just ended up making him uncomfortable. It’s all uncomfortable and he hates it. If he could just calm down about the other man, it wouldn’t even be a problem in the first place! Problem is, Scout doesn’t know how to just stop. He’s trapped in a hell of his own making. If he knew how to stop being a pervert, he would, because he really values Sniper as a friend and-

“...nothin?”

Scout lifts his head up, racing thoughts interrupted. “Hm?” 

Sniper doesn’t turn around. “You’re really gonna say nothin?”

Scout sighs.

“Look. I ‘on really know how to feel about all of this. The only thing I do know is that this doesn’t make me wanna stop comin’ ovah. So I won’t say anythin’.”

Sniper's shoulders relax, and Scout realizes Sniper’s been incredibly tense this whole time. He probably isn’t much better himself.

He feels really bad. If he just stopped prodding when he was getting nothing, he wouldn’t have caused all this. He just wants Sniper to forget he saw anything and relax a little.

He can only pray this doesn’t change things between them.

Chapter Text

He doesn‘t want it to change things between them.

But he can‘t stop thinking about it.

Like. It was obviously embarrassing and uncomfortable and not fun to remember.

But he can‘t stop thinking about it.

Passing by the camper on his morning run, he almost trips because he isn‘t watching where he‘s going.

He keeps zoning out in the middle of conversation, which is a stark contrast to his chatterbox nature. 

He drops his breakfast later that morning, and he doesn’t even complain when he has to clean it up.

When he’s going out on the field, the air feels at least 10 degrees hotter if he’s aware of Sniper’s presence.

He misses a couple more shots than usual, tripping over his feet as he runs aimlessly towards the objective.

His teammates shout instructions at him through his headset, and he senselessly obeys, but he really only half hears the instructions anyway.

After the battles, he doesn’t stick around to boast or chat with the rest of the group. He heads straight for the showers.

He really can’t stop thinking about it.

Sniper doesn’t come down for dinner that night. Which isn’t too out of the ordinary, but it’s breaking a long streak of Sniper coming down.

Scout wishes he understood why he hated being in large groups so much. Situations like that are where he thrives- so many eyes on him filling that constant search for attention, satiating the part of him that craves it…

Sniper isn’t like him. He still came down for him sometimes though.

But not today.

Scout isn’t dumb, he thinks to himself, poking at the food on his plate- leftovers, from breakfast.

No, because he isn’t dumb, he knows it’s because he’s acting weird. Sniper noticed. And Sniper can probably guess what about.

It’s just- complicated. And overwhelming to try and think about consciously, which makes not being able to stop thinking about it all the more irritating.

He tries to focus on the food, but despite Demo’s efforts, it’s bland and definitely isn’t nearly as good as it was this morning- but maybe that’s just because he didn’t have a stomach ache this morning.

Nonetheless, he eats. He makes unenthusiastic small talk, letting the focus drift away from himself for once.

When he finally lays down in his bed on his shitty stiff mattress, he thinks to himself- Sniper’s mattress is probably more comfortable.

Okay. Well. Looks like he’s not gonna stop thinking about it.

If he’s learned anything from the recent… developments… about how he feels about Sniper, he should probably just let himself work it out. Because stuff about Sniper never seems to go away, in contrast to the man himself being more than happy to leave most social situations.

…Well, what is he supposed to think?

That’s a dumb question. Doing what he’s not supposed to has kind of been his brand since he was a kid. What he’s supposed to think might not actually be right. Isn’t that what philosophers are creaming their pants about or something?

God, this sucks. He hates introspection. It’s for girls anyways. He doesn’t even need to do this usually, he’s awesome and, like, almost perfect. Why is he even so bothered?

To be fair to himself, He thinks its a little normal to be surprised when your infamously ‘professional’ coworker has a stash of gay porno mags hidden out in the open. Hiding in plain sight, or something like that.

Plus, said ‘professional’ throws piss at people. So maybe the ‘professional’ thing isn’t important anyway.

Okay. So. Sniper’s a pansy. Why should he care?

Because they’re friends or something? Guys don’t usually care that much about that stuff. That stuff’s for girls. That’s gay.

…

No pun intended.

…

…

Okay. Maybe this is bothering him because he’s really avoiding admitting something about himself.

Scout is NOT gay. He loves women, he’s a ladies man, he likes sports and manly things and he’s been with a few women and god said he was a gift to women everywhere if that was even real and he is NOT gay. 

But he didn’t…. He doesn’t…. He really has no idea how this works. He likes Sniper. Like. A lot. Capital fucking L a lot. And he’s already kind of admitted it’s not in a normal way. 

But that was it! Two guys can’t do anything together, it just doesn’t work like that.

Until- well until not only he learned THAT about Sniper, but also the contents of that mag?

Because like. He’s known handjobs were a thing, obviously. He’s not a kid, he’s gotten them before. Whatever. But it never crossed his mind that a guy could do that? To another guy?

So. In theory. He could- uh. Sniper and him could. Could like, do something like that. Like the guys in the photo. And maybe- maybe Sniper would like it. Doing that with Scout. And He’d- he’d almost definitely enjoy it. He doesn’t even think he can deny that, because it would be different- with girls it was always a little underwhelming, but if it was with him it would be a whole different thing, because it’s Sniper and not just some random girl who took a liking to him after a few drinks- It would be Sniper, his friend, his friend he hangs out with all the time Who acts like he cares. Guy’s hands probably feel different than girls. God, Sniper’s hands are probably pretty calloused. He’s watched them at work, wrapped around his rifle or the grip of his kukri, methodical and almost desperate. He can almost-

Holy shit.

Desperate?

Sniper?

He’s hot. And kind of embarrassingly hard. And if he thinks about it for any longer, he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to ignore his annoyingly overactive brain and/or dick.

…He doesn’t think this was very productive.

Smushing his face into his pillow, he closes his eyes and prays for the exhaustion to kick in.

Chapter Text

Scout has a bad idea.

A really, really, really bad idea.

But if it won’t go away, and he can’t even think about it, some stress relief is in order.

It’s Sniper’s fault he’s distracted anyway.

Sniper is pretty private about his van, and generally keeps it locked up even when he’s inside sometimes. However, he’s gotten lazy, and logically has no reason to not trust Scout, so Scout knows where the spare key is.

He can be observant when he wants to. It’s a trait he tries not to show, though. Because people obviously make an effort to hide stuff from Spy, that’s frickin Spy we’re talking about- but they think he’s too dumb or preoccupied to notice.

Of course, they’re wrong, and that is how Scout finds himself digging a key out of the flower pot of some half-dead houseplant in Sniper’s room he doesn’t even use.

He’s almost afraid he won’t find it, and even more afraid he’ll have second thoughts before he finds it. But he finds it.

He puts it in his pocket and goes on with the rest of the morning normally.

Matches that day are fine, he’s a little paranoid about losing the key, but he doesn’t. After all of the fighting he still has the key in his pocket, its slight weight in his hand both terrifying and exciting. Finally, it’s almost time for dinner prep- Engie’s turn tonight? But Sniper offered to help, something about getting better from watching? Whatever. Point is, that gives Scout a window of time where Sniper isn’t in his van, and a majority of the other mercs are busy.

And so there he is. Standing in front of Sniper’s van in the broad daylight of late afternoon, hand stuffed in his pocket holding the key to the van.

He checks behind him, all around the van, and stares down the entrance to the ‘mess hall’, before realizing the longer he stands out here the more likely someone is to see him, and even more likely to say something if they see him go in.

So, with shaky hands, he turns the key in the door and pushes it open, quickly stepping inside before kicking the door shut behind him. He jolts when the door clanks against its frame, but he reminds himself that there shouldn’t even be anybody able to hear.

Standing there in the van is absolutely nerve wracking. It’s darker than it usually is, Sniper having turned off most of the lights to conserve power. Normally Sniper would lead the way, pushing one of the sheets to the side towards the living room-esque area. Scout would just follow and sit on the couch.

Sniper’s not here.

So he pushes the curtain aside himself.

He has to be very very careful not to move anything, or else Sniper will notice. He normally isn’t so acutely aware of just how loud his footsteps are or how clumsy he can actually be.

He pushes aside the curtain to where Sniper sleeps. He’s been back here… maybe once?

He stands there, almost perfectly still. He’s trying to memorize where everything is, and get more of a bearing of his surroundings.

He kind of feels like he’s gonna puke. Or die. God, this is how he dies. he’s gonna have a fucking heart attack after breaking into his best friend’s van, die on his floor and expose himself for the weirdo he is.

But he doesn’t. So he moves forward.

The space is really small, which makes sense with the whole being a camper thing. His bedsheets are on the floor, with just a blanket remaining on the bed. He’s got a dresser, a bed, and that’s about it.

Scout is careful not to step on the sheets as he approaches the dresser. There are 4 drawers, and he picks the second from the top.

It’s…. Actually pretty empty. Which is fair, Sniper doesn’t have much variety when it comes to his wardrobe. But Scout is much more focused on what’s inside the drawer.

He had no idea which drawer he was opening, but this one has shirts inside. There are some long sleeve, some short sleeve, but there’s one that’s creased from the wrist to the elbow and has his class symbol patch ironed on to the shoulder and before he can ask himself what he’s actually doing he grabs it, slams the drawer shut and half runs his way to the door of the van.

He balls up the shirt while he peeks out the window near the door, looking for any sign of someone outside or someone who could see. The coast is clear, from what he can see between the blinds.

He puts his hand on the doorknob, and closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. He didn’t think he would even get this far, he has no idea what he’s doing or going to do but he needs to leave while he still can.

He opens his eyes and pulls the door open. He grabs the knob on the outside, and jumps off from the stairs, closing the door behind him. He fumbles with the key for a second, before turning it back to locked, pulling it out and fucking running.

Holding Sniper’s balled up shirt to his chest as he practically flies across the open space. Fueled by adrenaline and a whole lot of unprocessed emotions, he goes into the building where the bedrooms are, and beelines for his room.

Slamming the door shut behind him, he leans against the door, chest heaving with his erratic breathing. He looks down at the shirt in his hands, and lets out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a shudder.

What the fuck has he done.

He laughs again, and throws the shirt on his bed, before swiveling around and leaving his room.

Dinner’s soon, and he’s got a key to return.

Chapter Text

Dinner is fine. He’s trying not to show that he’s panting when he gets there, having to run from Sniper’s room. He eats so quickly Engie teases him for it, making some remark to Sniper about his mastery in the kitchen.

Scout is so far gone. He’s practically vibrating out of his seat with excitement. When he’s finished, he makes some comment about getting interrupted in the middle of the cool part of his x-men comic and darts off to his room. The lie is good enough, and he’s down the hall before Engineer can finish waving goodbye.

He practically throws himself at his bed, bed frame squeaking in protest against his body being launched at it. He grabs the shirt haphazardly thrown at his bed and just clenches and unclenches his hands around it. His mind is racing with ideas of just what he could do with his new treasure.

He lifts it to his face and breathes in. It smells surprisingly strong. It’s not like Scout doesn’t know what Sniper smells like, but he’s never gotten close enough to smell it so concentrated. It’s a little overwhelming and he’s dizzy with excitement.

Without a second thought he’s on his knees half-kneeling, yanking his shirt off. He thinks he might hear a stitch rip but he could give less of a shit. He’s fumbling with Sniper’s shirt, and just decides, after some short contemplation, to put it on.

It’s a little baggy, but just a little. Sniper isn’t much bigger than him, just taller mostly.

He flops back against his pillows, propped up slightly by the wall behind him. He’s really really hot, and he can kind of feel a hard-on approaching. He doesn’t really care this time though.

He bunches up the shirt near the bottom, where it’s hanging over his pelvis. He breathes in again and nearly shivers.

It smells like pine and soap, probably because of whatever detergent Sniper uses. It has this vague undertone of an almost whisky-like scent. Deodorant? Cologne? No man naturally smells like that. It would be cool if he did just smell like that though. Besides the point, breathing in again he can smell hints of a sweet smell that he can’t really place. But it smells. So. Good.

Sniper wears this shirt all the time. It was evident from the moment he saw it in all of its unfolded wrinkled glory.

He’s got a bit of a chub going, so he takes one of his hands and grabs at his package. He’s entirely too soft to do anything but grope at it right now, but he’s more than content to just do that.

He wonders if Sniper is the kind of guy to feel up his partners. Maybe Sniper would be grabbing at him like he is himself right now- but maybe Sniper would be less eager, maybe he’d be slow and methodical, touching him all over, callous hands rough against Scout’s soft skin. Maybe he would keep that glove on. But maybe Sniper would be rushed, not necessarily desperate but certainly not waiting around, rubbing his hand on Scout’s crotch a little too rough and fast but it would be okay because Sniper’s hot and he’s turned on either way.

He’s a little more than half hard at this point. Shuffling awkwardly around, he pulls his pants and boxers down and kicks them off. His dick is warm on his stomach when he lays back down, and he leans his head back as he returns his hand to its place on his junk. He should probably take off the hand wraps or something, but he’s way too invested at this point to stop.

He continues like that, one hand fisted in the stolen shirt he’s wearing, the other pleasuring himself. He knows it’s weird and perverted but he’s frustrated and has no other proper outlet and it’s not like Sniper’s gonna waltz in here and start jerking him off, so he has to make do with what he can get. It’s all Sniper’s fault, he’s stupid handsome in a way that grows on you, and his voice is really low and he’s kind of stoic but he’s funny when he does talk and his laugh is stupid because it makes him so happy and his dumb face is so pretty and he really wants to get a closer look at the scars sprawled across his chest, and He’s properly jacking off now and it kind of hurts because there’s no lubricant but he can’t stop.

Sniper drives him so crazy. He kind of can’t believe he went out there and took his shirt and is going on to getting off on it but he’s so desperate and pent up he can’t be bothered to care right now.

He tilts his head back down, breathing in Sniper’s scent again. He wants to be pressed up against Sniper, wants Sniper to be close to him while he’s desperate like this. He’s gonna cum soon, but he only speeds up. He wants Sniper to touch him, to hold him, to see how much Scout needs him, to see that Scout wants him because fuck Scout really wants him and-

His brain kinda blanks while he cums. He’s glad his face is buried in his shirt because otherwise his gasps would be a little louder than he’d like. He rides the high, until he’s just laying there coming down from it. He needs to take one of his hand wraps off, and he should probably put his clothes back on.

After laying there and staring at the ceiling, he finally moves.

Most of the spill hit his bare stomach, so he’s not too worried about that. Holding the hem of his new shirt out of the way with his teeth, he takes off his hand wrap on his left hand and uses it to mop up the mess, as he already managed to get it gross by using that hand for uh. you know. He tosses it to the side and pulls off the shirt, lazily shoving it under his pillow.

He stands up and redresses. There’s a growing pit in his stomach, and he might need to curl up in bed and die now.

God, that was weird. Scout is really weird and pretty creepy. Sniper would be furious if he found out. Or disgusted. Or both. Why did he think it was okay to do that in the first place? God. Oh my god. He’s disgusting.

He’s nauseous. His heart has basically fallen out of his ass. He knows guilt and shame are technically different but they’re definitely the same right now.

He tries to ignore it, pacing around his room. He’ll be fine, it was whatever, right?

Oh god. Okay he’s gonna puke. Like actually.

He goes to bed that night with a burning throat and a sore dick. He kind of hopes he doesn’t wake up tomorrow.

Chapter Text

His blinds are open.

He doesn’t remember leaving his blinds open.

He shrugs it off, he doesn’t pay too much attention regularly so he could be wrong.

The sheet to his living room is off.

He remembers leaving it pulled so you couldn’t see the couch, but sure enough when he stands there in the doorway, he can see his couch.

Which is weird. He’s made mistakes like this before though, no big deal.

He would be lying if he said things didn’t feel off. But he’s been wrong before.

All he knows is if Spy broke into his camper somehow, He’s gonna kill the snake. But it’s unlikely, He wouldn’t be so clumsy.

It had to be himself. Getting… carried away or something like that.

So he tries not to think about it. He watches TV and putters about his van until eventually going to bed.

Going to bed is relative though, Sniper being an insomniac of sorts. He can sit still, count as many sheep as he can, and keep his eyes closed. but sure enough, he will still be awake.

He doesn’t really know why he has trouble sleeping, just that he does. He doesn’t have nightmares usually, so the common reason mercenaries lose sleep isn’t actually the reason Sniper loses sleep. He just… does.

People say it's a good time to think. Sniper is too tired to think. It’s not that he isn’t tired, he just isn’t asleep.

He doesn’t like it about himself. He’s a better shot when he sleeps well, and he doesn’t hate sleep or anything silly like that. Laying in his bed, stripped down to his boxers and an undershirt, he would love to be asleep right now, but he isn’t.

He’s too tired to get up and entertain himself, much less get anything done. He hates nights like these the most, where he just lies there and thinks about nothing and doesn’t get enough sleep.

So he wakes up the next day feeling awful.

At least he slept, but he doesn’t think he slept for long at all. Groggy and disoriented, he rolls out of bed to go to the bathroom.

When he’s getting dressed for the day, he notices his RED shirt is missing. To be fair, he has more than one, but he always wears the one more often, as the fabric softens with use. He sighs, frustrated, and puts on a newer shirt. The fabric feels wrong against his skin, and he knows it’s gonna drive him crazy all day. Just what he needed after not getting enough sleep.

The rest of the day is uneventful, The team rotations are just fine, and He even makes it down for dinner again.

Scout isn’t there, which Sniper kind of expected. Scout’s avoiding him, he’s pretty sure. Which is…… understandable. It makes a lot of complicated feelings bubble up and he doesn’t really want to think about them.

“...Do ya even think he’ll come down?”
“I don’t know, he never misses dinner usually.”

Demo and Engineer are talking about Scout, clearly. Perfect timing. He tries not to show that he’s listening, until by some cruel act of fate, Demo pipes up- “Aye, Sniper, Do ya think you could go grab Scout from ‘is room?”

Great. Awesome. Of course they ask him. Engineer and Demo are looking at him expectantly for an answer.

What he means to say is “Piss off, do it yourself”. But what he actually says is just a grumble before he stands up and walks out into the warm evening air. He purses his lips as he walks towards the bedrooms. He doesn’t like going down there, preferring to have his own privacy in his van. Besides, they roomed him next to Soldier, and he snores like a lawnmower.

He knocks at Scout’s door before opening it. When he looks inside, He sees Scout, facing away from the door, lying on his back with a book above him. He’s squinting at the book. Sniper walks over to him, marveling that he hasn’t been noticed yet. He kicks Scout’s foot to get his attention.

“AH! Woah! Didn’t see ya there pally, what’s got you down here at lovemakin central?”

Sniper huffs a small laugh at the name for Scout’s room. “Dinner.”

“Oh! Ah, uh, yeah, just gimmie a second.” he says, before squinting at the book again.

Sniper resigns himself to looking around while he waits for Scout. For how often Scout comes down to see him, Sniper doesn’t come down here very often. There's some baseball memorabilia littering the walls, along with a pinup falling off the wall above his bed. Weird spot for it, wouldn’t you want to be able to see that from the bed? His sheets are ruffled as he expected, and- is that Scout’s shirt under his pillow?

Weird place for it, and Scout was on BLU today anyway, so having his red shirt out is weird on its own, but also in his bed? His laundry isn’t too far but-

Wait.

…

Did Scout break into his van?

All of his stuff was slightly off. And his shirt is missing.

And it’s here. In Scout’s room. On his bed.

…

He walks over and picks it up.

…

…

Well, he’s not dumb. Stealing his shirt is weird in the first place. Secretly taking another guy’s shirt is a huge sign. And then there’s also the um. The suspicious stain on the hem. In case he had any questions about what Scout was doing with the shirt.

…

“Hey Snipes, what does uh.. Car… Carcass mean?”

He turns to face Scout. He’s still on the floor.

He has no idea that he knows.

“...Dead animal.”

“Okay cool.”

He stands there a second longer.

He doesn’t want to scare Scout. If he takes it he’ll freak out. If he tells him he’ll freak out.

“Alright. Munchin time”

This fucking guy?? How the fuck did this happen with this fucking guy?

Scout gets up and walks to the door.

Sniper follows.

When Scout starts turning the doorknob, Sniper pulls his hand off the handle.

Scout looks at him, confused, and opens his mouth to say something, but Sniper starts before he can.

“I was looking for this.”

He doesn’t think he’s seen Scout go more pale, and he’s seen him bleed out.

“I didn’t think knowing I fancy men would bother you like this ‘ere. If you need help, you can just ask me, ‘right?”

“...Okay!”

Sniper didn’t know Scout’s voice could hit that high of a register.

He turns the doorknob and opens the door for Scout. Scout looks at him for a second, before practically bolting out.

That’s one way to bring it up. He probably should’ve thought more before saying something.

Whatever.

He walks back to his camper with his shirt in hand.

Chapter Text

AAAAAAAAAAH!!!

WHAT THE HELL!!!

It’s normal to be freaked out, right?!

Good god. He’s an idiot. How could he just LEAVE IT THERE?!? What. the. fuck. What the fuck!

All things considered, it could’ve gone MUCH worse.

BUT IDEALLY IT WOULD HAVE NEVER HAPPENED. HE WOULDN’T HAVE GOTTEN CAUGHT.

Oh god. He didn’t make sure it was clean. Oh fuck. 

That is pretty much all Scout is thinking while he eats dinner. He knows he’s been acting off already, not talking much, but he cannot do anything but try to hold it together right now. What the fuck. He hardly eats anything before he goes to take a cold shower instead, opting to avoid socializing all together while he is freaking the fuck out.

The cold water refreshes his brain a little. He can at least think now.

…

What did he mean by help? The fuck is that even supposed to mean?!

He wants to bash his head into the shower wall. He feels like crying. And a little like throwing up again. If he just thinks about how bad he feels, he’ll feel worse, and he knows that. But also processing will probably be worse.

God, he’s not sleeping tonight. Or maybe ever.

At least he didn’t seem mad. Which is honestly pretty bizarre on his part, because Scout did fully steal his stuff. So it doesn’t actually make sense that he’s not mad. None of it makes sense, and he wishes he never did anything in the first place.

He heads back to his room with a towel around his neck to catch the water falling out of his wet hair. His head is clearer only in the sense that he isn’t outwardly panicking anymore.

He tries to distract himself, he really does- but there isn’t much to do on his own. He squints at the book he was reading earlier today but focusing on having the words make sense feels like too much work. He’s read all his comics already, and he doesn’t want to do chores or something boring.

He roughly scrubs his head with his towel, trying to dry it faster. Tossing the towel to the side, he flops face down onto his mattress and just tries to remember to breathe.

…

Seriously though. What did he mean by help?

In that context it almost sounds like Sniper was offering him something.

…

It can’t be that. That's his brain trying to make him more comfortable. Or being stupid or something.

But what else could he have meant?

…

He shouldn’t get up. He should lay here and try to sleep, and try not to think about it and move on like nothing ever happened.

…

He’s not gonna sleep anyways.

It feels wrong to be back at the van so soon after he went in alone. Staring at the door, he contemplates actually knocking. He’ll never know if he doesn’t ask, but if he asks he might dig his own grave deeper. Quite the conundrum to be having after he got as far as walking all the way down here. 

He’s already here. He’s already here, he’s not gonna sleep tonight, and he needs to stop thinking so much.

He knocks.

It sounds too loud against the silence of the night.

He honestly considers running. It’s what he does best. The longer he sits here, the more the idea appeals to him, but sure enough Sniper opens the door.

He’s just. Looking at him. No hellos, no why are you here, just looking at him.

“Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?”

It’s the first thing he thought to say, to break the awful silence. He’s pretty sure he’s visibly shaking now.

“Don’t ya remember?”

Not the response Scout was expecting. He tilts his head in confusion, looking up at Sniper.

“Ya took it.”

Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay hold on. Okay.

Sniper turns around and walks into the van, leaving the door open behind him. It’s what he usually does, but Scout feels much more like an intruder when he follows him this time around.

He just sits down on the sofa, praying that if he follows the regular routine they’ve built he won’t actually shake out of his own skin.

Sniper doesn’t sit down. Scout is only aware he’s standing right behind him because the couch cushion behind him gives a little from Sniper putting his hands there.

“...you took it back, to be fair, you coulda just worn it.”

Sniper laughs quietly, the sort of laugh that shakes his shoulders as his quite frankly unfairly deep voice escapes in small chuckles. Scout fidgets with his hands, unsure if he should be laughing too.

“I figured I'd wash it first. Not sure suspicious stains are in fashion.”

Sniper’s voice is closer than before. He’s probably leaning over him now, but Scout doesn’t think he can bear to turn around and check.

“Oh god.” Scout says, resting his elbows on his knees and burying his face in his hands. He can’t form a coherent thought among the swirl of emotions clouding his mind.

Sniper laughs fully this time. When he finishes laughing, he takes his weight off of the back of the couch. “Just teasin’ ya.” he says gleefully. Scout mumbles his curses as he drags his hands down his face. Sniper walks around to sit next to Scout, body language relaxed. He leans into Scout a little, shoulders bumping. Before Scout can even really process that in his jumbled brain, Sniper speaks again.

“I was a little vague, so I’d like some clarification.”

Scout tenses a little, glancing over at Sniper before deciding on avoiding eye contact by staring at the blank TV.

“What are you here for?”

“Well I kinda-”

Scout purses his lips.

“I kinda…”

It’s irregular for Scout to struggle with his words so much.

“I kinda thought like. Uh.”

“I-I kinda thought you’d- um.”

Scout can see Sniper smiling in his peripheral vision.

“You kinda thought I would whack you off?”

God. How did he even get here?

“...Yeah, something like that.”

Sniper gets even closer. So close that Scout can kind of feel his breath on his cheek. He’s probably bright red, based on the thrumming of his pulse in his ears.

“Lucky boy. If it was anybody else, You’d be in big trouble.”

Sniper slowly reaches out and places his palm flat on Scout’s chest, And his hand stays when his chest shakes with his exhale.

“Can feel your heartbeat. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were scared.”

Scout cracks and finally looks over at Sniper. He’s grinning maliciously, his face almost like when he’s about to get a really good kill. Scout thinks he actually is a little scared, when he sees him looking at him like that so close. Sniper pulls his palm away from his chest, but his fingers remain in contact, dragging down to his stomach, only stopping right on his abdomen. Scout is breathing shallowly, and he’s already a little bit hard just from Sniper talking to him like that.

“You sure you want this?” Sniper inquires, hand hovering just above the belt of Scout’s pants. Scout, out of his mind with raw fear and excitement, answers with little hesitation.

“God yes.”

With that, Sniper pulls away a little but only to reach around with his other hand and unbutton Scout’s fly. Lifting the arm closest to Scout to rest lightly on his shoulder, he pulls down the zipper with one hand. He pushes the heel of his palm onto Scout’s boxers, pressing against Scout. Scout lets his head loll back a little, temple resting against Sniper’s forearm. Sniper just does that for a while, grinding his hand against Scout’s crotch until he’s decided Scout’s adequately hard for the big reveal. When Sniper removes his hand from his crotch, Scout looks back down, only to widen his eyes at Sniper’s hands, watching him slipping his index and middle fingers past the waist of his boxers. He tugs at the waistband, and Scout instinctively raises his hips to ease the pulling down. It still gets caught halfway down his shaft, but another tug gets them all the way down.

Scout isn’t really sure what he expects, but it’s not for Sniper to laugh. Does he have to be feeling cock shame right now?

“Sorry just… yer circumcised.”

“Uh yeah? Duh?”

Sniper shakes his head. “Haven’t been with enough Americans.”

“Fuck you want me to do abou- oh .”

Scout’s sentence is cut off by Sniper gently grabbing a hold of his dick, tilting it to rest against his stomach. Scout lets himself slouch a little more to make it a bit easier. He places his finger just below his tip, and drags it down till he reaches the beginning of his sac. He gropes at his balls, and Scout slaps a hand over his mouth. Sniper chuckles low, and Scout can feel the breath hitting his cheek. His dick throbs, and Sniper pulls his hand away.

Scout looks over at him, only to see Sniper spitting in his hand oh my god why is that so hot and moving his hand back. They meet eyes for a second, and Sniper grins at him and Scout has to look away or else he’ll get to full mast. 

Sniper finally wraps his hand around Scout’s cock and Scout exhales heavily, closing his eyes tight. But to his surprise, he doesn’t move from there, just holding him. Scout’s about to say something when Sniper lowers his arm to wrap all the way around him and push his head towards Snipers. Sniper’s mouth grazes his cheekbone as Sniper tilts his head towards his ear. Low and breathy, he asks-

“Did you wear it?”

Scout tries to turn his head away to look at Sniper, but Sniper’s hand holds his head in place. “Wh.. what?”

“The shirt.”

Scout’s lips part, but nothing comes out. He breathes in shakily.

“Did you wear the shirt when you came?”

Scout shivers. By all means, he has the ability to break out of Sniper’s grasp. He's better trained in close combat, and yet Sniper still has all the power here. It’s a little embarrassing how it makes his head spin.

“Yeah.”

“ Fuckin hell.. ”

He finally moves his hand, sliding up his shaft tauntingly slow.

“I- I wore it for the whole thing. I wasn’t really thinking I just- fuck- I just wanted to… I wanted to feel you- Just the shirt, nothing else on-” Scout makes a strained face as Sniper reaches his tip, squeezing a little harder on his tender spot. Sniper’s hand applies more pressure to the side of his head, pushing it to press against Sniper more, and Sniper’s lips graze him when he says “Don’t gotta keep quiet. Just us here.” and Scout lets out a breathy sound, not quite a moan.

Scout laughs a little. “It wasn’t even like- hot, it kinda hurt and I was rushed but I don’t know I guess I was-” “Desperate?” Sniper finally lets go of his head and Scout lets his head hit the back of the couch as he hums a confirmation, lifting his hips with each stroke. As he’s not holding onto Scout’s head anymore, Sniper twists to face Scout more, and uses the spare hand to grab a fistful of Scout’s shirt. “Take this off.”

It’s a command, not a question, and Scout is moving to yank at his shirt with no hesitation. He pulls it over his head, knocking his cap off as he goes, and curls forward and whines when Sniper squeezes the base of his cock. Sniper pulls his shoulder to lean back against the back of the sofa, though, quietly saying something like “I can see you better back here.”

Sniper picks up the pace, getting a proper rhythm behind his strokes. Scout huffs every couple strokes, wishing Sniper would be a little less gentle because at this point he’s hardly holding his dick. “I wish coulda seen.” He twists his hand a little, flicking his wrist in a practiced, skillful way. “Didn’t know you got so needy. Wish I coulda seen how just thinking about me gets you all hot n bothered.” and he’s tightening his grip only at the base which is great and all but his tip could really use some more attention. “I- I wouldn’t have you watch, want the real thing more-” Scout cuts himself off with a proper moan and Sniper groans something under his breath. The spit is kinda getting dry but Sniper finally touches his tip to gather up the precum dripping down his shaft and uses that as a lubricant instead. Scout is letting out quiet little noises, and he can’t really decide if he wants to keep his eyes open to watch or close them to focus on the feeling- 

But then Sniper grips him tighter and jerks him off properly, and Scout keens and puts a hand back over his mouth. Clearly, Sniper doesn’t like this, and grabs his wrist to pull his hand off his mouth, and Scout thinks he’s gonna stop there but then he roughly grabs onto Scout’s jaw and forces him to turn his head towards Sniper.

“Don’t. Look at me.”

Scout’s mouth falls open as he groans embarrassingly loud, and when he opens his eyes and looks at Sniper and he’s watching him make all these faces and sounds and holy shit he’s really close to cumming.

Sniper only speeds up, though, and Scout starts making sounds at just about every stroke. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this kind of pleasure before, heart pounding as adrenaline rushes through him while he’s forced to look at the man taking him apart. “Fuck, fuck keep going please please,” and he trails off into incoherent pleads, and Snipers pupils are blown so wide that Scout thinks he could fall in and then Sniper pulls his face closer to his own and just like that he’s done for.

It’s intense, to say the least. His thighs shake and his back arches and he closes his eyes tight while all sorts of noises he isn’t even controlling fall from his parted lips.

And then just like that, it's over. Sniper walks away, and Scout hears his sink running for a second and then he comes back with a wet washcloth and clean hands. He doesn’t even say anything as he wipes Scout’s stomach clean, and Scout is feeling about 200 truckloads worth of post nut clarity. Sniper’s hard too, the tent in his pants obvious when he stands up to go put the washcloth away. But he walks away to the sink, and Scout doesn’t waste any time to tuck himself back into his pants and put his shirt and hat back on.

He stands there for a second, mind flooded with racing thoughts he can’t even really understand. His legs are shaky and he’s definitely overwhelmed, so he does what he does best. He runs.

Sniper hears the door shut before he’s even finished rinsing the washcloth.

Chapter Text

He is a bit disappointed. He knows Scout was probably just in it to get a quick wank from someone else, but he kinda figured he wouldn’t leave so immediately. Maybe stick around for a while.

It’s dumb, he knows. Scout is probably just a bicurious lonely guy taking advantage of whatever’s nearest to him. Sniper doesn’t really know how he feels about indulging that though. Considering Sniper is pretty damn infatuated, and that doesn’t happen often, he wants to chase that high of being able to touch the object of his attraction. Because being friends is the best he can get, and he obviously wants more, he couldn’t say no when Scout knocked at his door last night.

He sucks it up. It hurts, but he’s not a baby. He can handle it. He washes the shirt, even though he’s on BLU today.

He doesn’t come down for food, opting to stay in his camper instead. He doesn’t wanna risk doing something stupid.

It’s funny that they’re on opposite teams again, because that means Sniper can spend a little extra time shooting at Scout. It’s a bit therapeutic, and he isn’t ashamed to admit he takes great pleasure in his work, regardless if he’s popping the head of the guy who’s pants he just stuck his hands down the night before. Scout definitely knows he’s being targeted, hyper aware of the blue dot he sometimes catches a glimpse of, trying to run from it only to get shot anyway. Sure enough, Sniper is dominating Scout, and BLU wins for the day.

He gets his pats on the back, but he opts to skip showering for now, as it’s less crowded when he waits. So he heads back to his van, opting to be alone.

He’s brewing himself some coffee in his shitty little coffee machine when he hears knocking at his door.

Now, when you generally have to be fetched, you tend to recognize knocking patterns. It’s subconscious, but almost everybody knocks at his door differently. He doesn’t recognize this one, as he can hardly describe it as knocking and more as pounding at his door. Confused and a little concerned, he doesn’t waste any time answering it.

It’s Scout. He’s out of breath, panting, and Sniper can see the sweat dripping off of his face onto his shirt, his hand wraps inexplicably missing. He clearly hasn’t showered either, hairline slick from the sweat that gathered there on the field, and he has a little dirt smudge on his cheek. Sniper doesn’t really understand why he’s so happy to run around in the blazing heat. Before he can say anything though, Scout’s shoving past him into the van.

“Scout, wha-”

“You were targeting me.”

Scout cuts him off, despite being the one fighting for air right now.

“...uh….”

“I figured its ‘cause-”

Scout pulls his hat and headset off.

“-Figured its ‘cause I ran off last night.”

Sniper looks at him, confused. He’s flushed a little pink at the sudden bringing up of last night's debauchery.

Scout leans against the door, slamming it closed.

“I wanted to see if I could- yakno. Pay you back”

Sniper’s confused expression only deepens. “What?”

Scout huffs, discarding his hat unceremoniously on the floor. “Don’t ask me any more questions or I might change my mind. Just get on the couch.”

Sniper kind of grimaces, not really sure what Scout’s planning on doing or how to feel about it, so he just walks over to the couch and sits down like he usually would.

Scout is on him surprisingly quickly, leaning over to get his mouth to reach just above Sniper’s collar, leaving an open-mouthed kiss there, breathing heavily into his neck as he grabs at Sniper’s belt. Sniper is wide-eyed with surprise, but tilts his head to give Scout more breathing room regardless. Scout yanks at his belt, and pulls away to undo his fly, opting to kneel on the floor rather than lean over him. He clearly isn’t expecting Sniper to not be wearing anything underneath. “Commando??” he asks incredulously, hands still on the zipper of his fly.

“...yeah, easier access I guess.”

Scout makes a strained face and Sniper kind of thinks he’s made Scout uncomfortable, but then Scout looks up at him and grins wide. “God, fuck you.” he says, laughing a little before groping at Sniper. He tenses a little, still pretty soft, but Scout grabbing at him is definitely getting him going.

It mostly seems like Scout is trying to get a feel for what he’s doing, as he seems a little oddly focused on groping at Sniper’s package. Sniper doesn’t really mind though, mostly trying to figure out if he actually woke up this morning because this is kind of like a dream. Scout pulls back his foreskin, and smiles with an almost manic expression as he rubs his thumb over the small hole at the tip of his cock. Sniper’s hips buck up, and he’s definitely hard now and it took way shorter than it should’ve but it doesn’t really matter because Scout grabs him at the base and leans forward and spits straight onto the tip, the thin trail of saliva connecting his mouth to his dick. He looks up at him, blue eyes wide in a way he’d almost describe as innocent if it weren’t for his wet bottom lip and dilated pupils.

Scout doesn’t waste any time getting to actually jerking off Sniper, moving his hand up and down while he bites at his bottom lip. Sniper lets him, even though he could probably use some guidance as he’s pretty clumsy and honestly he wishes he had spat a little more ‘cause it’s still a little bit too much friction but he worries if he says anything Scout will stop. So he just pushes his hand down into the sofa, letting his hips raise a little.

Sure enough, his spit dries up relatively quickly, and Scout mumbles something about underestimating how long it was, and spits on it again. He gets back to working at Sniper’s dick, stroke lengths different each time.

Sniper jumps a little when Scout rests his head on Sniper’s knee, lazily looking up at his handiwork. He smiles, hums a little and closes his eyes. They stay like that for a while, Sniper gasping when something feels particularly good and Scout touching him clumsily and lazily, enjoying just watching his hand work at Sniper’s hard-on. His spit dries up again though, and Scout huffs with frustration, lifting his head back up.

“Listen, ya don’t gotta if you don’t-”
“Shut up.”

Scout cuts him off again, releasing his grip on Sniper's dick to instead tilt it towards himself, and just looks at it for a second. Sniper is about to say something when Scout looks up at him.

“Whatever. I prefer this anyway.”

And then he licks a stripe up Sniper’s cock, and Sniper is almost absolutely certain he’s dreaming because Scout’s shifting his head forward to lick him again. He opens his mouth and wraps his lips around the side of his shaft, the top of his head bumping into Sniper’s stomach a little as he pulls his head upwards, leaving a messy trail of saliva up his dick. He starts moving his hand again.

Scout’s looking up at him, and Sniper mumbles “You’re bloody gorgeous”. This makes Scout smile, and he answers “Yeah? I betcha you’d like it better if I…” he trails off, instead tilting his head upwards and stopping his hand at the base of Sniper’s cock, and then he moves so the start of his shaft is touching his cheek and his length is laying across Scout’s face and he Just smiles up at him, eyes closed, cheeks flushed a bright red. “Christ..” is all Sniper can manage, and then Scout pipes up again. “God, look. You’re as big as my face” He says, breathy and quiet with a slight tremble in his voice. Sniper says nothing, jarred from how different Scout is acting from last night. He could hardly bring himself to say that he wanted a handjob, and now he’s sitting there taunting Sniper.

Scout inhales sharply and mumbles a few curses, and shifts around. Sniper isn’t really sure what he’s doing, just that he’s tilting his cock away from his face now. It takes him until Scout is spitting into the palm of his other hand to realize that he’s touching himself too.

He goes back to jerking off Sniper, trying to match his rhythm on his other hand. He’s going really fast, and Sniper can already feel his climax approaching slowly. Scout’s panting again, this time it's attributed to the hand working ridiculously fast on his own cock rather than running in the heat.

“Slow down, you’re gonna make me… I still have all my clothes on…” Sniper says, trying to warn Scout of his impending orgasm. Scout looks up at him, and opens his mouth like he’s gonna say something, and then he lets out this desperate half-whimper half-moan instead. He stops moving his hand on Sniper, and Sniper expects him to just stop there but then he feels Scout latching his lips around the tip of his dick and humming as he starts stroking again. Yeah, definitely- Dreaming-

And he can do nothing but watch as he spills into Scout's mouth, and Scout makes this guttural sound and he’s not sure if it’s because it’s gross or because he’s enjoying himself but either way he’s not pulling off and he’s still jerking himself off. He’s finished actually cumming, but Scout keeps his lips wrapped around him as he swallows and still isn’t pulling off, instead suckling at his tip a little as he keens, approaching his own orgasm. Sniper pulls his dick out of his mouth with a pop, and Scout just says “gimme uh. Can you- can you get me something- I can’t-” and he’s pressing his face into Sniper’s thigh and Sniper panics a little, pulling off his shirt and handing it to Scout. Scout doesn’t seem to think twice, using it to catch the thick substance spilling out of him.

They don’t move for a little, Scout catching his breath and Sniper trying not to bother him as he comes down from his orgasm. Finally Scout leans back, tucking himself back into his pants. Sniper leans down, picking up his shirt. “Second time now.” he teases, a little grin on his face. Scout groans. “Oh god.”

Sniper tucks himself back in his pants as well. His heart is racing, and he’s still considering pinching himself when Scout laughs and just says “Oh my god. I can’t believe I just did that.” He doesn’t waste time standing up. Expression somewhere in between a grimace and a smile, Scout picks his hat back up from by the door and puts it on. He just stands there as Sniper re-does his fly.

“...you don’t need to stick around if you don’t want to.” Sniper says, remembering Scout only did this to pay him back.

Scout makes a face, clearly thinking over what Sniper said, and then sighs. He rubs a hand down his face and opens the door.

Sniper pretends not to see him look over his shoulder as he closes the door behind him.

…at least he felt bad about running off. He really hopes Scout didn’t just do all of that because he felt like he had to. His stomach twists itself in little knots. Maybe fucking around with the guy that keeps him up at night is a bad idea.

He can’t really bring himself to admit that though. He just wants to take whatever he can get from the other man before he moves on, bicuriosity solved.