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No. 3770
Thanks for all the lovely comments everyone!
And have some more too. I sent the first half of this off as a surprise for Zuul, since she had to work very long hours again today. I'm uploading the second half as an additional bonus for everyone!
Me and Zuul talked about the Engie and Scout we've been roleplaying and she told me that "Between the Bars" by Elliott Smith really suited them. After listening to it ( http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p4cJv6s_Yjw ) I had to agree that it's a real beauty of a song. So I put it on, opened an email and began to type. This is what I ended up typing, only I took out the song lyrics. So now you must listen to it! First verse and chorus for Spy and Sniper, second verse and chorus for Engie and Scout. Enjoy!
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Sniper and Spy were drinking. It was a surprisingly rare occurrence - Spy was forever wary of saying something he'd regret and Sniper preferred the occasional smoke to the taste of alcohol. But it had been a very depressing day, requiring something that would give them a fiery kick to the throat and dull their senses. They had taken the strongest of Demo's drink and were up in Sniper's perch, sitting on the bed and trying out different combinations.
Sniper had another letter from home. Normally it only pissed him off but now he just wanted to drown some sorrows. His father had written this one which immediately made him realise it was serious - his Mum had written all the previous letters, with his dear Dad only adding some venomous comments through her hand. Now there were only two sentences, the first telling him that he was being disowned and the second ordering him to never reply or write again. He knew his Mum probably didn't get a word in the matter. Her brutish husband had always had the final word in their household. Sniper formed a fist around the bottle he held.
Spy glared at nothing. Lately the BLU Engineer and Scout seemed to be after his blood, and it was because of their Spy. He hadn't realised what had happened there, until...Spy shuddered. He hadn't wanted that at all. He couldn't see why BLU Spy would ever want to disguise as one of them and find the other for some sex. Neither of them was worth it! But now, because of that bastard, he had to deal with their combined rage at him. He could handle it and turn it against them but it didn't help that they would team up against him. Maybe he could sneak into their base one night and kill them then.
They had both begun to get drunk. It was slowly becoming apparent in their behaviour. Sniper was usually polite, light-hearted and able to match Spy in terms of being a gentleman. But he worked at being a gentleman; it didn't come naturally. He was at his most natural when he didn't have to worry so much about manners - like when he was working, or kissing Spy. As such, he was less restricted in his actions, slinging an arm over Spy as he drank. Spy didn't mind. He would have commented on it had he been sober but of course he wasn't sober. Rather than chatter on as he usually did, he remained quiet, reflecting on something. Sometimes he would open his mouth but nothing came out, save for a few sighs.
The drink didn't remove the pride both men carried with them. Sniper wasn't going to do anything unless Spy hinted like he normally did. And Spy didn't trust his mouth after a few drinks. So they simply sat together on Sniper's bed in the dark room. Sniper did pull Spy a bit closer though, so he was slightly leaning on him. Or was it the other way round? Regardless he closed the distance and Spy did little to resist. If anything, Spy relaxed into the hold and raised a hand to hold the arm curled around him.
Sniper secretly wanted to undress Spy, feel his body without the layers. See his face. He never tried to imagine what Spy looked like under the mask - he didn't want to imagine, he wanted to see. But he wasn't going to be the one to initiate that. He played along with Spy's hinting for the most part, but Spy should learn to take what he wanted. To initiate, rather than doll up his desires with wordplay and wait for Sniper to make the move.
Unknown to him, Spy was having similar thoughts. He wanted Sniper naked with him, pressing against him in that feral way; the way he was when they kissed. But he couldn't ask outright, that wasn't classy. And there was no way he was going to start it! No - he wanted Sniper to simply start taking off his clothes, pull him down and have his way with him. And Spy was sure he could convince Sniper to do just that. But Spy's thoughts had become cloudy. The drink?
No, not the drink. It was Sniper's fault. He felt this way around him before, when he was drink-free. The man did weird things to him. Made his stomach flip. Made his heart flutter slightly. Spy was excellent at hiding these but it didn't change the fact that they happened. He couldn't allow himself to think of what they might mean. Because, if they meant what he thought they did, he was in big trouble. Spies shouldn't fall in love. They couldn't. It was too dangerous.
Sniper's belly was warmed by the stolen booze and his side was warmed by Spy's body. Or Spy was warming him up all over. But it couldn't be that. He was close to Spy, yes - they understood each other well. But he knew it was something more than that. He behaved himself around Spy. Watched what he said, how he acted. He shouldn't. Sniper shouldn't be watching his manners around Spy. Why did he care how Spy saw him? He certainly didn't care half as much about how the others saw him.
They didn't talk much that night. Mostly because they drifted to sleep as they were, Sniper holding Spy's shoulders and Spy holding Sniper's arm. The only way they shifted during the night was to snuggle into each other, nuzzling each other's heads in their dreams.
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Scout and Engie had drunk a few beers before heading back to Engie's room. Why his room? It was closest. Neither of them were totally shitfaced - they were somewhere between tipsy and drunk. So there were a few stumbles, some clumsy affectionate gestures and kisses. The moment they entered the room Scout kicked the door shut forcefully and grabbed at Engie, planting his lips where-ever he could. Engie returned the gesture sweetly, not as hurriedly as Scout, by holding him and kissing his cheeks, jaw and neck.
Soon they were already on the bed, Scout tugging at Engie's clothes. The alcohol was fogging his brain a little, making him slightly causing him to have more trouble than usual as he tried to tear them off Engie. It was also putting strange thoughts into Scout's head - thoughts about what happens after this. Not what happens after they have sex, that's fucking obvious (they curl up together and go to sleep or have more sex until they do go to sleep). Scout means after the war, when they've beaten the RED's to pulps.
Engie felt the tugs and pulled at his clothes, stripping himself out of his overalls and shirt clumsily. He had forgotten to take off his kneepads at first, so his pants got stuck there. He watched Scout tear out of his own clothes as Engie's mind fell under the spell of the beer, just as had Scout's. His entire mind was focused on Scout. But only half of it was concentrating on watching the boy wiggle out of his pants, before crawling up to him. The other half was thinking about the future - his future with Scout.
Scout pushed Engie back as he was thinking, not caring if he was done getting undressed. Scout would practically rip off anything still covering Engie. If he wanted to see Engie naked, he was going to see Engie naked. Simple as that. He dived forward to kiss him roughly on the lips, even as that nasty nagging was building up in his ears. Reminding him that they won't be here forever. That guys like Engie had pretty little wives waiting for them at home, cooking apple pies or some shit.
Engie accepted the kiss hungrily. He had never told Scout how much he adored his forwardness, his rough nature. But encouraging it might make Scout overzealous, so maybe it was best he didn't mention it. Even if it was one of the things Engie was going to miss most about Scout when this ended. They'd probably go their own separate ways after the war - Scout would return to Boston and he'd go back to Texas. Alone. Engie moaned as Scout moved against him, trying to distance himself from such depressing thoughts during something that felt so good.
They rocked into each other aggressively, noisily. Engie murmured and groaned sweet nothings as Scout swore and cried out in reply, the pair forming some strange music with their contrasting sounds. Scout counted himself lucky that his mouth wasn't taking full instruction from his head, or he'd come out with all sorts of crap. He was loudly asserting that the man thrusting against him was his - "You're fucking mine, Engie! You're mine!" - But he wasn't adding "Not that fucking bitch's!"
Their climaxes came and they snuggled together. Scout couldn't look up at Engie. It felt so good whenever they were together - not just like this just together, hanging out - but it was beginning to leave a lingering sense of hurt. He just couldn't ignore the thought that Engie wouldn't always be his. He hated how much Engineer was hurting him, just by fucking caring for him! And the kicker is that Engie probably didn't even realise it. Scout gripped onto Engie a little tighter, biting back tears.
Engie held him back, breathing deeply to hide his repressed sighs. He didn't want to leave Scout. He didn't want to go back home and end up spending the rest of his days wondering about Scout. He knew there wouldn't be another boy like him. And if there was, it would just remind Engie of Scout anyway. This was all probably just due to circumstance anyway, on Scout's part. He'd go home, find some pretty little lady and settle down happily with her. Engie stared up at the ceiling, holding Scout and trying to hide away his own emotions.
They fell asleep like that, both clinging to each other as if they would be separated in the morning, never to see each other again. Their faces smoothed out though, easing from worried, sad looks into peaceful, relaxed expressions.
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