Reposting/adding to a fic I wrote many months ago. It's an AU in which RED is an all male brothel. There are many pairings, some of them may end up being three/more-somes. Despite this, I do my best to keep them believable within the (admittedly ridiculous) setting/plot. The 'main' pairing however is Heavy/Medic. ** The line that spewed from Medic's mouth had become routine ever since he had taken the forsaken job. “At least I am working!†“You imply that I am not.†The woman’s voice had an edge to it, like a warning shot being fired. “Ridiculous, how could I forget! Those brats are all you can talk about since we moved here.†She pursed her lips and bit her tongue at the word brats—that was not an appropriate description for the adults in her college level German class—but she had been married to the infuriating man for long enough to know that he would take her correction as a grand insult. “Do not start blaming me for that again, it was a good job opportunity and you were the one who urged me to take it.†Her voice lowered in an impression of her husband, “I would not mind practicing and furthering American medicine, you said—well a lot of good that did you, fired within the first two years.†“That is not—†Medic growled, stopping himself before the argument tread into even more dangerous territory. “The point is, my wage is high, I work less than ten hours a week and make more than you do in forty!†“You sure spend a lot of time in your office for someone who works so little.†The words took longer than they should have to register in Medic’s mind. “…I do not, I told you I go to the—†“And I am telling you that I know you are really at that disgusting place that employs you.†Medic was as surprised as he was furious. “You followed me?†“Please, I simply went looking for you.†“I did not see you come in.†“Didn’t have to, a nice Scottish gentleman in the parking lot answered my questions.†Medic didn’t like the way her lips quirked up as she spoke. She had a right to know, he should have been honest with her in the first place. Still, he was illogically angry at her for snooping. That anger prolonged the argument which lead to a full blown screaming match, both parties bringing up old, unrelated issues just to fuel the fire. The next thing Medic knew he was being pushed out of the house while his wife, voice stern and expression cold, told him to go sleep on the couch of those whores you love so much. “Fine!†Was the last word he got in before the door slammed in his face. “Their couch is more comfortable than ours!†It was not until his boots were clicking against the slick street, arms folded against his chest as rain soaked his clothes at a steady pace, that he realized the couch in the lounge of RED really was the only option he had. There was no way he would swallow his pride and go back inside, not even for his car keys and wallet. Despite knowing he should calm down and attempt to work things out (which entailed apologizing when apology was not owed) , his legs moved on autopilot down the dark, empty street while his mind walked entirely different paths, dissecting the argument inside his head. ** Planning ahead was something that always had its benefits. It was a good thing Medic was a pro at foresight, if he had not thought to scan the ground for the glint of dropped coins as he walked, by the time he got the gas station ten blocks away he would not have been able to use the payphone. When a pleasant female voice welcomed him as she would a lowly customer, Medic scowled. “It’s me, Miss Pauling. I need to speak with Heavy,†he cut in before she could finish the business’ scripted phone greeting. “Doctor?†She hesitates for a moment, pushing her curiosity aside in favor of professionalism. “I’m sorry, but our Heavy seems to be with a client at the moment. Is there something else I can do for you?†Under normal circumstances Medic would be more understanding. He was calling Heavy’s workplace after all, it was natural that the man be otherwise occupied, but the doctor could only conjure anger towards the large Russian man who had told Medic to call anytime he needed something. And Medic really needed to get out of the rain. “I could leave a message for him, if you’d like,†the feminine voice said, audibly anxious at Medic’s silence. Or perhaps she could hear his teeth grinding. “Nein, I need to speak with someone now.†Medic clicked his tongue as he went through a mental list of the other employees he was on good terms with. It was quickly decided that borrowing cab money from anyone but Heavy was out of the question. From the state of their parking lot, he knew that most of them preferred using a cab or bus when they wanted to travel. Medic supposed it was because they were all from other parts of the country, some of them from other parts of the world. It was easier and less expensive to leave their cars at home while they flew in to stay at RED for months at a time. The ones who did have cars with them were Spy, who drove a fancy little number Scout often made eyes at, and Sniper who drove a camper van that seldom left the parking lot. “Sniper,†Medic decided. Favors were not the sort of thing you ask from a man who had self-interest as his major hobby; Spy was out of the question. “Just a moment,†she replied before putting him on hold. It had bothered him, pressing the assumed filthy public phone close to his face, but he found it even more troubling when he heard Sniper’s voice on the other end. He wasn’t particularly close the Australian man, a fact that he became all the more aware of once faced with asking him for a ride. “Mum, I told you, I don’t care if dad thinks I’m a crazed cross-dressing bimbo, and for the last time, tell him I’m not going to get myself abducted by a rich man and kept as a pet,†was Sniper's automatic response into the phone, voice hushed as though embarrassed that others might overhear. Perhaps Miss Pauling was hovering close by. Medic sighed into the receiver, knocking his raindrop flecked glasses askew when he brought his hand to his face in annoyance. “You would do well to resolve this ongoing issue with your parents.†There was an awkward bought of silence in which Medic could all but hear Sniper frown. “…Medic?†“Apparently.†“Oh. Look mate, I’m sorry, it’s just me mum’s always callin’ and—wait, what are you wanting to talk to me for?†“I need a ride,†Medic said, knowing it would cause him less humiliation to get straight to the point. “What for? You’ve got your own—“ “Sniper, would I be speaking to you right now if I was currently in possession of my own car?†There was an odd shuffling noise and a grunt of annoyance from Sniper. “Suppose not.†“So are you willing or not?†“Oh, he is always willing,†a French accented voice replied close to the receiver. The sound of a muffled scuffle followed before Sniper said, “Sure mate, just tell me where you are,†as if there had been no unseen exchange on the other end of the line. Medic rattled off precise directions to his location and Sniper promised he would be there as soon as possible. “No, you’re not comin’ with me,†Sniper could be heard saying as he moved to hang up the phone. Spy’s voice was further away this time. “You need me to help push when you get stuck in the mud.†“Ain’t gonna happen, not that a scrawny thing like you could help much if it did.†“Oh, I forgot you like your men with the body of a farm-bo—“ Spy’s retort was cut short by the line going dead. Medic squeezed his eyes shut tight, taking a deep breath in attempt to remain calm. He could only hope that their bickering did not delay Sniper's arrival too much. Most of all, Medic hoped that Sniper followed through in his insistence that Spy not come along for the ride. The last thing Medic needed tonight were Spy’s passive aggressive remarks. The Frenchman loved feeding off of the distress of others and could not help but irritate situations until someone snapped. Scowling up at the sky, Medic picked a tree by the roadside and huddled under it to escape the majority of the rain’s path. ** Warm air ghosted over from the vent on the dashboard to fan across his reddened cheeks, already warm for an entirely different reason. Saying he was blushing from modesty would be a lie, he was long since accustomed to sex and all the things that came with it. Right now though, Engineer would rather lie to himself than think about the real reasons why the soft shuffling of clothing and murmured words were causing his skin to burn. His senses were devoted completely to the two men on his left, struggling hard to make out the low, accented voices that were being drowned out by his own pulse beating too loud in his ears. His gaze however, remained glued to the fast moving scenery beyond the van window. Cool glass vibrated in time with the engine as he rested his forehead against it, the occasional bump in the road causing his head to jerk back and crash against the glass. Despite being well on his way to a migraine, he had no other options. Engineer was not going to let them know how much this bothered him, pressing up against the door and pretending to look out the window was the furthest he could get from them without getting up and walking into the back of the camper. The latter was out of the question considering it was Spy’s intent all along, the reason he was putting on the show that Engineer was forced to be an audience of. “To the left a bit so I can get me leg around ya better—there ya go.†Sniper’s voice was just barely a whisper and Engineer knew it was his way of being considerate. If Sniper really wanted to be kind he would reach over and turn on the radio so that Engineer would not have to hear them at all. Spy’s chuckle was louder than Sniper’s voice had been, but the sound of a gloved hand sliding over bare skin resounded loudest in Engineer’s ears. That is, until a zipper could be heard over the windshield wipers and pattering rain. Engineer had to squeeze his eyes shut to keep himself from glancing sideways to look at them. His eyelids did not stop him from feeling the motion of the van veering slightly before being jerked back to a straight path, nor did they stop him from hearing the long exhale of breath coming from Sniper. Now Sniper was the only one speaking, words low and encouraging, though Engineer was sure the slick, wet sounds and muffled hums were a product of Spy’s efforts. Engineer briefly wondered if Spy honestly could not control himself as he so often insisted. They hit a bump which caused Sniper to gasp and curse at the same time, the following moans prompting Engineer’s hand to stroke along the inside of his own thigh. Through pure strength of will, he suppressed the urge to cup the bulge in his pants. It did not help that the sharp panting and lapping noises were growing more eager. Touching himself was not something he wanted to be doing anywhere in the vicinity of the Frenchman. The only reason he did not feel shame at the state of his erection was because he was telling himself it was a result of Sniper’s familiar sounds of pleasure rather than Spy’s involvement. Just when he managed to clasp his hands together and focus on the soothing mechanical sound of the windshield wipers and the hum of the engine, Sniper said something that had Engineer’s head whipping in their direction fast enough to give him whiplash. Engie drunk in the sight. As expected, Sniper was driving, struggling to focus on the road, his legs spread just enough to allow room for Spy between them and beneath the steering wheel. Sniper’s long legs hugged close to Spy’s sides so that they could still reach the pedals while Spy’s arms wrapped underneath the other man’s thighs, gloved fingers digging into Sniper’s hips, holding them in place. The view of Spy’s head bobbing with such enthusiasm in Sniper’s lap caused a groan to bubble up out of Engineer’s throat. “Engie,†Sniper struggled to repeat between breathless moans. It was then that Engineer realized that Sniper calling out to him was the only reason he was seeing any of this in the first place. His eyes snapped up to Sniper, who was biting his lip and still trying to maintain focus on the road. The van swerved anyway as he removed a hand from the steering wheel to grasp blindly to his right. Engineer almost scolded him for being so reckless, but instead found himself twisting around to grasp Sniper’s hand. The Australian man squeezed his fingers in a death grip, and Engineer could not look away from Sniper’s face even as he leaned in to place a kiss against the bushman’s knuckles. Sniper threw him a quick, sideways glance, lips twitching in amusement before his face contorted and Engineer had to watch as he came into Spy’s mouth. The van jerked to one side and Engineer’s free hand automatically lunged forward to steady the wheel, position awkward as he leaned off the edge of his seat to reach it. “Whoa there,†he shouted, trying to snap the driver back to reality. “Sniper, you’re fixing to get us killed!†A breathy laugh chimed over the sound of rain smacking against the windshield. “Wouldn’t mind it so much, nice way to go if you ask me.†“Why monsieur, I am flattered,†Spy replies casually, as if to mock the Texan’s distress. “Well plant your hands back on the wheel, I ain’t interested in dy—“ Engineer’s voice faltered when he cast an angry look over at the two and found that Sniper had removed his hand from the wheel completely in favor of cupping Spy’s face, running his thumb over the man’s lips. All of a sudden Engineer felt like an intruder, his quick glance turning into a double-take which only lead to staring and a jumble of emotions being mixed inside his chest by a heart that was pounding too fast. “Engie, what the bloody hell are you doing!?†Snapping back to reality, Engineer grimaced at the loss of the warm palm in his as Sniper pulled his hand away to take control of the wheel, elbowing Engineer out of the way in the process, sending him crashing down to the empty space in front of his seat. The van was only allowed a second to smooth its path before Sniper slammed on the breaks, causing everyone to lurch forward. If Engineer were in a better mood he would have laughed when Spy cursed as his head connected with the steering wheel in a burst of pain. “We’re here,†Sniper announced, ushering Spy out from under the steering wheel. “Go on both of you, make room for the doc.†Once he was on feet, Spy sauntered his way into the back of the camper, but not before receiving a few pats on the rear from Sniper as he went. Engineer grimaced as he hoisted himself up, moving to allow Medic the passenger’s seat. “What’re you on about? “ Sniper inquired when Engineer paused in the space between the two front seats. “I ain’t goin’ back there with him,†he said, couching between the seats. Sniper frowned at him before turning to cringe as Medic, looking like nothing short of a drowned cat, opened the door and climbed into the passenger seat, dripping all over the upholstery.
This looks like an excuse to just write porn. I love it.
Sorry for no new content, I'm slowly rereading/editing each part. Also, sorry for having to delete the thread and make a new one, had a formatting issue and couldn't figure out how to delete a single post (I forgot to type a password). ** One should really know the driving skill of someone before requesting a ride from them. That was Medic's first mistake. Still, seconds after the van screeched to an abrupt halt Medic found himself at the door, willing to risk the prospect of wrecking in a ditch if it meant getting out of the rain. Climbing into the passenger seat, he wasted no time securing his seat belt before turning to Sniper, who was gripping the wheel and looking a bit shaken. Medic guessed it might have had something to do with Engineer stationed between the seats and the musky smell in the air that had nothing to do with Sniper’s low maintenance hygiene standards. The inside of the van smelled like sex and both men were looking vaguely guilty; Medic wrinkled his nose. “Howdy doc,†Engineer said first, forcing a smile, something Medic had never seen him do before. “Howdy doc indeed,†Sniper said, shifting the van into drive and making a U-turn via the gas station parking lot. “So what’s got me driving way out here in the middle of the night in a bloody thunderstorm?†Medic sighed, head dropping back against the seat as he watched the windshield wipers in their battle with the obscuring raindrops. He could think of no reason why he should be secretive, neither man was the type to treat his personal issues as petty gossip to be dissected and made into fuel for ridicule. Under normal circumstances Medic would not even humor the idea of mixing personal affairs with work, but asking for help had already breached that line and he owed them some sort of explanation. “I was banished from my own home and was too proud to bang my fists against the door until they bled—which was how long she would have kept me out there,†Medic grumbled, knowing half his words were unnecessary. There was a moment of silence in which Medic refused to look at the other two men before Engineer finally spoke up, “Sorry t’hear that, doc.†“Well, I’m glad ya called then, we wouldn’t want ya bleedin’ ta death and drowning in a puddle.†Sniper shot Medic a good-natured smile that was returned with a scowl. Before Medic could retort a bought of chuckling bubbled up from the back of the camper, and it was then Medic realized that his second mistake was assuming Sniper could actually prevent Spy from coming along. “A fight with the missis lands our dear doctor in the cathouse, how very amusing.†As expected, just one sentence from Spy and Medic was ready for blood to spill. “It ain’t funny, Spy. Show a little respect.†“Ha, this is coming from a man who can only muster up love and respect for toys and farm animals,†Spy retorts. Engineer’s laugh was dry. “Judging by how often you sneak into my room and steal them, I’d reckon it’s safe t’say that you love my toys too.†“Oui, hours of enjoyment for me and your prized livestock.†Sniper realized Spy was referring to him and interjected with a, “Don’t make me come back there and gut you.†Medic was not sure if Engineer’s cheeks where flushing pink with embarrassment or frustration, he was just grateful that the fight with his wife was no longer the topic of conversation. “Anyway doc, how’re you plannin’ to patch things up?†Or not. Engineer’s subject change was entirely selfish and Medic could not help but to hate him a little. “I am not the one that needs to fix things. She refused to listen to reason and made a big ordeal out of nothing.†“Aw c’mon, it takes two to tango. Even if she is the one in the wrong, wouldn’t it be better to—" “No.†“You’re bein’ downright ridiculous. Once things have calmed down, a little communication can go a long way. You wouldn’t want some misunderstanding ruinin’ your marriage, would ya?†“Sorry, I had not realized you were such an expert on communication and relationship maintenance! I have not once seen you stand up for yourself in your ‘relationship’ and yet you expect me to listen to your advice?†Medic snaps, voice harsh from the stress of the day. He knew even as the words spilled from his mouth that he was taking his frustration out on an innocent man who was just trying to help. Even so, he did not feel guilty until the silence that followed overstayed its welcome. Sniper opened his mouth as if to speak, but the syllable died on his lips and he returned his focus to the road. Slow and steady, Engineer got to his feet, one hand gripping Sniper’s seat to sustain balance as he turned around, took a few steps and then paused, eyes glued on the ground. “I’m sorry ‘bout your bad day, doc,†he said before disappearing into the back of the camper. The rest of the ride was silent; Medic spent it fuming, angry at his wife, at Sniper for not consoling Engineer—at Engineer for not putting up a fight. He knew though, that most of his anger should be directed at himself, a fact that only infuriated him further. ** When the van pulled up to RED, Medic hopped out without a word, slamming the door shut behind him and not looking back as Sniper pulled away to maneuver into his parking spot. The establishment was inconspicuous except for the name scrawled in cherry red neon letters across the front. Once inside, things were lively despite the late hour. It was like the building’s inhabitants never slept (he knew for a fact that they did; sometimes he had to rouse them from sleep well after noon for their weekly checkup). Miss Pauling greeted him once he entered the building, though she already had when he rang the intercom to be let inside the gates. “Hello Doctor,†she said, small smile obscured behind the top of her clipboard. “I’ve already let the Administrator know that you’re here.†He had the horrible urge to snap at the poor girl though she has done nothing wrong. “Thank you, Miss Pauling.†He paused for a moment, almost too proud to ask her for the go-ahead to stay there for the night. “About those spare rooms, I was wondering if I might—†“Oh, no need to worry.†She lowered her clipboard to beam at him. “You sounded really worn out over the phone earlier, factoring in the late hour, I took the liberty to request permission for you to use one of the empty bedrooms, sir.†Medic accepted the room key from her when she offered it, impressed that the girl was so thorough. He supposed she had to be in order to work so closely with her boss. Even Medic felt uncomfortable standing in the same room as the Administrator for too long. With a final thank you to the resourceful young woman he took off into the building, unable to get past the lounge without being intercepted. “Yo doc! What the hell’re you doin’ here?†It was funny, though he had no ‘stage name’ like the men who worked here, no one ever called him by name; somehow it seemed more personal than if they were calling him by his first. “Hello Scout,†he replied, distaste evident in his voice as he eyed the young man’s long baseball socks and high heel combination. It looked odd coupled with the hat, red shirt and absence of pants (presumably he wore underwear since the Administrator had a rule about covering up what was important while outside of one’s own room). Medic was almost amused thinking back to all those times he overheard Spy telling Scout that he would get many more clients if he let Spy dress him. When Scout caught Medic looking him over, he stepped back and stretched his leg for Medic to get a better view of his shoes. “Like ‘em?†he snickered. “They remind me of the kind my ma wears.†Medic raised his eyebrows at the boy, getting unwanted images of a toddler Scout tripping over his own feet while wearing his mother’s oversized dress and heels. As if reading Medic’s mind, Scout narrowed his eyes. “Ay, I ain’t no momma’s boy.†“Of course you are not. Is Heavy sill busy?†Medic opted for changing the subject before Scout threw a tantrum. “Actually, he is. With a client, that regular of his.†“Which one?†The words passed his lips before he could stop them. “The gal with all that long dark hair,†he said, pretending to toss invisible tresses over his shoulder with an air of importance. “Not her sister then,†Medic remarked, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice and hating himself a little for knowing who the Russian man’s regulars were. “I wish—I think that one likes me.†Medic had done his best to compose himself before entering the building, but he could feel his anger bubbling up again with the news that he would not be able to rant about the evening’s events to Heavy, who was easily the best listener Medic had ever met. “Anyways what’s the matter with you? You look like you wanna saw through someone’s bones.†Sighing, Medic rubbed his eyes, feet automatically moving him through the lobby and towards the hall where all the rooms were located. “Where’re ya goin’, doc? I told ya, Heavy’s busy.†“The administrator was kind enough to allow me access to an unused room for the night, I am going to get out of these wet clothes,†he replied, brisk walk unfaltering as he began to unbutton his soaked shirt on his way down the hall, willing to sacrifice public decency to end his discomfort. Thin fingers curled around his elbow from behind, tugging him to a stop. “Waitaminute, ya can’t go ta bed all upset, my ma always said that was real bad for a person.†Medic raised an eyebrow at the boy, finding Scout’s attempt to console him laughable. It was out of character for him in the first place; Medic could only assume he was feeling particularly attention starved. Regardless, it wasn’t something he had the patience to put up with, not tonight or ever. Though his initial urge was to shoo the boy away, instead Medic’s nose crinkled at the thought of going to bed with skin sticky from the rain. “Going straight to bed would be disgusting. I will be bathing first.†Scout’s face lit up, a slow mischievous smile stretching his lips. “In that case…†Medic took a hasty step back, peering precariously down at the boy with a slight twitch in one eye. “Alone. I am going to take a bath alone.†The blank stare Scout gave him was only present for a moment before he recoiled as if he had been smacked. “Ew, ew! Jesus, man, that’s not what I was gonna suggest at all!†He paused for a moment, eying Medic. “Yick, c’mon man, don’t flatter yourself.†Taken aback, Medic started to protest but Scout pushed him through the hall and towards the back exit. “What is the meaning of this?†Medic asked, his steps clumsy with the added force of Scout’s palms against his back. “It’s a surprise.†Though he wanted to strangle Scout, Medic knew that the boy could get him kicked out the moment he cried wolf, so he complied, seething in annoyance as he allowed himself to be led out the back door and into the large fenced in area behind the building. Only grassy field and dirt road stretched beyond the fence, though most of the grass had been lost in large muddy puddles which reflected the light from the porch. “Well?†he demanded, arms akimbo. The rain was coming down harder still, soaking his clothes once again. “Y’know, everyone’s always thought that you need to loosen up,†Scout shouted over the rain, punctuating his last words by shoving Medic into the drowning grass. There was a soft splash as he landed, cool water soaking into his pants as his fingers curled into the mud for stabilization. He only had time to shoot Scout an incredulous look before the boy was on top of him, forcing him onto his back. “What do you think you are doing!?†Medic shrieked, his whole body tensing up when he felt his hair mingling with the grass. “Loosenin’ you up, duh.†The smirk on Scout’s lips had Medic seeing red in record time; he did not have to think twice to know that his previous decision to avoid violence was now null and void. He could admit that his wife had some amount of say regarding his actions, but this boy had no right to treat him like some sort of plaything. Medic would rather deal with her controlling inclinations than juvenile displays of dominance by a teenager. When he uncurled his fingers from the ground he could feel a layer of mud under his short fingernails. This, coupled with the feeling of soaked clothing clinging to his flesh like a second skin, had Medic longing to scrub himself clean with an urgency that was borderline hysterical. Medic told himself that was why his hands were griping Scout’s waist, the boy’s shirt bunching up, slipping easily over slick skin. If he gained any satisfaction from tossing Scout into the mud with more force than necessary, he would have blamed it on the need for escape rather than violence. The moment he managed to sit up, Scout was on his feet and pushing a single dripping heeled foot against Medic’s chest, easing him back down with a pace so slow it seemed like a warning. Medic was quick to encircle his fingers around Scout’s thin ankle, holding it in place to ensure that no dangerous points came too close to his throat. A Raindrop evaded Medic’s skewed glasses and struck him in the eye. He could barely make out Scout’s face through the rain as the boy loomed over him, the flat of his shoe pressing idly against Medic’s collarbone. “I am not playing your idiotic game,†Medic growled, chest heaving under Scout’s foot. “Get off.†“Y’know,†Scout said, grinning. “Ol’ Snipes n’ Engie did this once, wrestled in the mud. They were real freakin’ mad at each other. When Engie told Snipes to get the hell off, it ended up bein’ taken literally, if you know what I mean.†Medic considered gossip below him, if he seemed interested in the slightest he would say it was based on pure professionalism alone. “Is that how they started…?†Medic blinked the wetness out of his eyes, struggling to see Scout through rain streaked glasses. “Yep.†Scout was smiling as if he was replaying the entire scene in his head. Distracted by the information, Medic had to wonder if the scene had been a spectacle for the entire building. Engineer was by far the most discreet and modest of his coworkers, Medic too easily pictured the man embarrassed and apologetic the next day. The image of the Texan blushing and bowing his head as the other men tossed teasing remarks his way was what finally brought Medic back to reality, furious at Scout for bringing those images to mind. “Spy was fuckin’ pissed dude, you should’a seen ‘em,†Scout continued. “He could not believe that Snipes got inta Engie’s pants before him.†It enraged Medic further that his initial urge was to inquire as to how long ago this had taken place. Spy was a persistent and resourceful man who took pride in always getting his way, Medic knew he would hold a grudge against both men until he succeeded in charming Engineer, which as far as Medic was aware, he had not. Engineer hated the man. The relationship between the three was far too unhealthy. “Why do ya wanna know so much about them anyway, ya perv?†Clicking his tongue in disgust, Medic sat up abruptly, catching Scout off guard and causing him to stumble sideways and fall over with a wet thud. It was his job to know intimate details about their lives. He was not curious. When Medic turned to snap at Scout, the boy was glaring back at him as if he was the one who should be offended. “That’s it. I’ve had it with all you losers disrespectin’ me when all I do is try ta help you out,†Scout barked before launching himself at Medic with so much force it sent both of them sliding through the mud like hockey pucks over ice. After that it was a blur of tangled limbs amongst the splashing and rolling, all the while Medic became less and less conscience of the delicate spectacles sliding dangerously close to the end of his nose only to be shoved back up too close to his face by a wayward elbow or bare mud slicked cheek. A few times he was stabbed by one of Scout’s dangerous heels and though the scrimmage was accidental, it only fueled Medic’s reasoning behind shoving the lithe, slippery body even harder into the ground. There was the pressure of a knee sliding over his stomach and crashing to the ground by his side, causing a bare thigh to press smooth and warm against the part of his stomach a hiked up shirt left exposed. Medic’s hand shot out to grip the offending limb, fingers digging into the flesh that seemed to glisten with the flickering of the porch light. Scout leaned down toward the doctor until their noses were almost touching. “So, you gonna tell me what’s got you so wound up tonight, doc?†Scout asked, biting his lip and studying Medic with an unbefitting air of casual superiority. Medic’s free hand moved to push Scout back, but the boy caught it and entwined their fingers, the force from pushing at each other’s palms causing their arms to hover awkwardly in the air. “My wife and I had a falling out,†he spoke through gritted teeth, giving the boy what he wanted was the only option he could think of to get himself out of the situation without knocking Scout unconscious. “She found out that I come here on my time off and confronted me. We fought, she threw me out. Though if I had known this is what would welcome me here, I would have crawled back inside and faced her arrogant, patronizing—“ “Whoa whoa whoa, hold up, she kicked you out for coming here outside of work?†Scout gave a snort of amusement and forced their joined hands to wave in an indignant gesture. “You told her you ain’t sleepin’ with any of us, right? I mean, what the hell is that? She’s gotta know you’re the biggest prude in the world!†Medic rolled his eyes, grimacing when a raindrop dripped off of Scout’s nose and onto the corner of his mouth. “She is my wife.†“Right, right. So she’s gotta know you’d rather get paper cuts fucking the cold pages of a medical textbook than a human being… Though y’know, I guess waking up to an empty, childless house every morning is a big enough hint—“ Scout shut up momentarily when Medic started thrashing beneath him again, eyes murderous. “Okay, OKAY, sheesh. Don’t go actin’ like that actually hurt your feelings.†He paused, eyes going wide in realization. “Unless you’re impotent man, and in that case I feel sorry for ya—“ Scout’s snickering transformed into a shriek as he was flipped over and pinned down in one fluid movement. Despite the rainwater leaking into his eyes, Medic managed to glare down at Scout’s shocked expression with surprising intensity. “The details of my personal life are none of your business and not up for discussion or speculation.†The tone of his voice was overly threatening even to his own ears, and when Scout cringed as if expecting a punch, Medic almost apologized. Pride unable to allow him to look pathetic for too long, Scout coaxed his expression into one of defiance. “Yeah, well then how come you get to know everything about ours?†Medic sighed, maneuvering himself off of Scout to sit beside him. “Because it is my job.†Fingers still interlaced, Scout wriggled his hand free from Medic’s, casually folding both of his arms behind his head like slick makeshift pillows. “Yeah, yeah. Weekly mental and physical health checks, I got it. Doesn’t explain why you come in more than once a week off the clock, doc.†“I have always been efficient to the workaholic extent. It does not hurt to know patients on a personal level, especially when appointed with monitoring their mental health.†Scout smirked. “Sometimes I find it creepy as hell that you know all of us so well. An’ I can see why your wife would feel threatened.†“Now you are the one flattering yourself, my wife should not feel threatened by the likes of—“ “y’know,†Scout interjected as soon as the words flew into his head. “I don’t see a problem with spendin’ time with the people you know best. S’like a family.†Medic sat there, skin itching and water in his boots, not sure what to make of Scout who seemed content with squinting up at the dark, leaking sky. “I am sure she would rather remove her own ovaries with her hands before she would ever accept a bunch of miscreants like you as family.†“Yeah well, your wife’s a bitch,†Scout replied, beaming as he draped each leg over Medic’s lap. Against his better judgment, Medic was laughing. Scout grinned even wider. “Lookie what we’ve got here, the quack has finally snapped.†Medic was still laughing even when he shoved Scout’s legs off of him with an only half-serious, “Shut up.†Rolling onto all-fours, Scout’s expression turned devious as he crawled towards Medic, whose humor was exiting stage left at breakneck speed. Medic opened his mouth, preparing to launch a series of threats in Scout’s direction, but the opening syllable died on his lips as Scout pounced on him again, this time his fingers were poised to tickle. Medic's protests were lost behind forced laughter and the sound of his feet repeatedly hitting the ground, sending droplets of muddy water flying in all directions. Everyone was wrong, hell was not firey, it was full of water and mud and unwanted teenage fingers probing sensitive skin. "And just WHAT is going on here?" Needless to say, Medic was more relieved than horrified when Scout was hoisted off of him by a very displeased Soldier, who maintained a firm grip on Scout even after the boy had managed to stand on his own. For what seemed like the longest time Medic could only lie there and breathe. "Need a hand there, Medic?" Soldier asked finally, extending a hand to help Medic up while his other gripped Scout by the back of the neck, ensuring his captivity. As Medic brushed Soldier's hand away and got up on his own accord, it finally struck him how embarrassing it was to have someone witness him engaged in a tickle fight with Scout of all people. Soldier's hard expression transformed into a smirk, apparently pleased by Medic's tough, independent nature. "Attaboy," Soldier said, slapping him on the back with enough force to cause Medic to stumble forward. "Now, why were you out here letting yourself get pushed around by some little RUNT?" At least he had enough sense to know that Medic was not out here voluntarily. "I am exhausted," was all he offered. "That is NO EXCUSE." Soldier seemed to accept the answer regardless, because he turned his attentions to Scout. "AND YOU, my previous threat to have Engineer build you a doghouse and then proceed to CHAIN you to it STILL STANDS." "Hey, lemme explain--I was just tryin' ta--" "I have heard enough of your excuses for one lifetime!" Soldier then grabbed Scout by the earlobe and started dragging him around to the front entrance. Scout's loud, squawking protests as he limped forward to keep up (one of his heels had come off in the chaos and was now lying forgotten in the mud), were making Medic cringe. When Soldier noticed that Medic was not following them, he turned to raise what Medic assumed to be a questioning brow, though Soldier's eyes were obscured by a helmet a few sizes too large, the rain pattering off of it in earnest. "I will be using the back entrance, thanks," Medic explained, not keen to walk all the way around the building when there was a perfectly suitable door several feet to his left. "No you will not," Solider barked. "The hallway beyond that door is CARPETED and I will NOT have you dripping all over it." Part of him wanted to disobey Solider, who was by no means his boss, but most of him was thankful that Soldier was acting as an authority, since he rid Medic of Scout. Not wanting to be pulled by his ear as Scout was, Medic begrudgingly complied, trudging behind the two prostitutes and wondering if he would have the energy to take that bath.
Yes. Fucking YES. This was my absolute favorite fic on the chan when it went down and I was heartbroken when it seemed to have been lost forever. Seeing it back has made my entire month. Thank you for coming back, OP. Can't wait to see more.
Intriguing....
>all the while Medic became less and less conscience >less and less conscience >less conscience >conscience >start picturing Medic with the face of Jiminy Cricket >realize I should probably go to sleep
OH HAPPY DAY. I will join >4 in the dance of joy because this is an amazing fic. It astounded me with its incredible characterization and off-kilter theme then and it still does now. There was more to it too! I know for a fact the Medic finally got to scrub himself clean and was locked in with Heavy... Keep going OP! We're rooting for you!
When I realized that this story was still being worked on, I actually squealed. I can't wait to read more; just like pretty much everyone else, this was one of my favorites from a long time ago!
I've missed this. Can't wait for more!
fff I didn't think anyone would even remember this. Thanks guys. Finally done reposing, new part will come next. 6 Er, Conscious** I'M SORRY. ** The floor was tiled all the way through the lobby and back to the small bar the brothel housed at the far wall across from the main entrance. So while one does not have to be concerned about ruining it with a little (or in this case, a lot of) mud, it was still slippery when wet. This fact Scout seemed to forget as he spotted something of interest at the bar and broke free from Soldier in a rush, all smiles and outstretched arms. “Sasha, baby! You came ta see me!†Even without the mismatched leg length due to a missing heel, Scout was an idiot for trying to run down a hard floor while soaking wet, and as such he fell on his face like one at the feet of the object of his initial excitement, who was seated on one of the bar stools. The young woman looked down at him over her neatly crossed legs, the dark metallic look of her eye shadow flaunted by half-lidded eyes. “Hello, little man.†It was all too obvious that the fall had hurt; Scout failed to suppress a whimper and pained expression as he sat up in stiff, careful movements. “You been waitin’ for me long?†he asked with the smoothest voice he could muster given the circumstances. “I’m not waiting for you, I am here to pick up Natascha, but she is taking longer than expected,†Sasha replied, and even Medic could hear the slight annoyance in her words despite never having heard the girl speak before. “What a slow greedy bitch.†“Hey, that’s my sister you’re talking about.†She moved her boot forward to nudge Scout on the forehead, small smile betraying her narrowed eyes. Scout grinned and scooted forward, encircling his slippery arms around her cargo-pant clad leg. “She is? I never noticed—she ain’t a looker like you are.†Tearing his eyes away from the pathetic display, Medic found himself exchanging a look with Demoman, who was tending the bar and observing the display in silent amusement. When three eyes rolled in synchronization, Medic decided that he belonged behind the counter with the Scotsman rather than being forced to watch Scout make a fool of himself. At least if he was behind the counter it would obscure his view of the kneeling boy. Soldier had left to retrieve towels and he and Scout were ordered not to step off of the tile until completely dry. For now, Medic would just have to wait. Moving to stand next to Demoman, arms crossed and silent, he almost felt bad for tracking mud back there. The bar was mostly maintained by Demoman when he was not busy with a client. He treated the area like his baby, something that showed in the upkeep. Medic sighed when Demoman looked down at the muddy footprints, his one eye full of accusation. “Do not look at me like that. Soldier has already told Scout he will be scrubbing the entire floor as punishment. There is no need to worry.†Demoman snorted. “Oh sure, I’ll let Scout clean back here—the day I want half me inventory broken.†“Your loss then,†Medic countered. Raising an eyebrow, Demoman slung an arm around Medic’s tense shoulders. “Don’t be like that, mate. You look like you’ve had a rough day—what’s your drink? It’s on the house.†As tempting as the offer was, just the scent of alcohol on Demoman’s breath was making Medic queasy. Besides, getting drunk in a place like this was never a good idea, he did not even want to think about the potential mistakes he could make while under the influence around these men. They were all skilled at the art of persuasion, something that was required to get your hand deeper in the pockets of a client. Even Scout was experienced at reading people, flipping his personality according to their tastes; he only had problems with the people who came in regularly, like Sasha, who could easily see through his acts and proceed to tease him. “No thank you.†Medic stared down at his waterlogged boots and the mess they had caused on the floor. Demoman still had his arm wrapped around him and Medic struggled not to lean into the warmth, only allowing the contact because he was too tired to fight it. “I can clean the mess I have made tomorrow, if you would like,†Medic offered a bit begrudgingly. “No, I got it. Something tells me you didn’t go for a romp in the mud by choice.†“That is correct.†“You’ve got to tell me ‘bout that adventure sometime, as repayment.†Medic is uncomfortably reminded of the comment his wife made about speaking with Demoman regarding Medic’s whereabouts. Somehow, he could not bring himself to get angry at the man, knowing that there was little chance he was sober at the time and liable to remember the exchange, and it was not like the Scot would have had any idea that it was Medic’s wife he was speaking to. “Ha. Maybe if you actually had some meat on those bones, kid. If I was interested in fucking weak little Girl Scouts I would’ve already bought cookies the last million times you knocked on my door.†Apparently the conversation going on at the bar had turned sour because Scout stood abruptly, eyes closed and nose high in the air. “Yeah well, I got plenty of other broads who wanna eat my cookies, I don’t need you!†he announced, strutting casually behind the counter to encircle an arm around each of the older men’s shoulders, pulling them close together and forming a complete circle. “Man, is she great or what?†Scout’s voice was low, conspiratorial. Medic wondered if Scout honestly believed that the woman sitting only a few feet away could not hear him. “That’s the kind’a gal I’d like to take out for a steak dinner—I’d wear a freakin’ three piece suit and bowtie for her.†“Better not, Spy would have a heart attack if he ever saw ya dressed up, lad,†Demoman chuckled. Looking over at the slightly chubby girl with black hair cropped short, dressed in unflattering boyish clothing, Medic couldn’t help but be surprised that she was Scout’s type. He had always assumed Scout would go for more classically beautiful women, judging by the pictures Medic had seen of his mother. “What the fuck does she see in that ogre anyway?†Though the question was meant to be rhetorical, both Sasha and Medic replied at the same time. “The physique of a man.†Sasha and Medic, who had never spoken a word to each other before, locked gazes, eyebrows raised. Scout let his arms slide off of the other men’s shoulders, taking a step away to look back and forth between the two, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. “Well fine, tag team me why don’t ya.†Scout huffed and pushed passed Medic, bumping shoulders with intentional force before stomping away, disappearing down the hall. A door could be heard slamming in the distance and Medic exchanged another look with the girl at the bar. After a moment, she extended her hand towards him. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.†“Nein,†Medic replied, gripping her hand and shaking it with some amount of hesitance, all the while trying hard not to think about all the places she had touched his large Russian acquaintance over the years. “You must be the Doktor,†she said, going out of her way to pronounce the title like Heavy. “Heavy speaks highly of you.†The words surprised Medic, not because of Heavy’s respect for him (no, that he proclaimed loud, often, and publicly) but because Heavy had spoken about him to Sasha at all. “I could say the same.†The only difference was that Heavy had ranted about the girl during sessions and in passing during conversation. Medic didn’t want to think about when Heavy found the time to talk about him to this girl, whether it was before or after she paid him for sex. God, Medic hoped it was before or after rather than the third option, which caused him to blanch even at the brief thought. “Oh?†She lit up instantly, grinning like Scout had when he saw her. “And what does he say about me?†“He often brags about having such attractive fans.†Beside him, Demoman laughs. “Well it’s not that unusual, is it? When you’ve got as many as he does, it’s only natural that a few of them are right beauts.†Demoman was right, Heavy had a sea of fans, it was inevitable that some of them be attractive. Luckily for Heavy great deals of them were, both male and female. Being a famous former heavyweight boxer had its perks, one of them was attracting a lot of business. Heavy told him that sometimes people would visit the brothel and pay him for conversation alone, though this was not unusual even for the rest of the men. Medic could not fathom paying a prostitute for simple companionship without sexual interaction as some customers did, but the frequency that these men claimed it happened was interesting. What Medic wouldn’t give to have those clients as psychiatric patients as well… Demoman easily peeled Sasha’s attention from Medic with conversation, which Medic was grateful for. When a fluffy red towel hit him in the face, Medic jumped like a startled cat. “Excuse the wait,†Soldier said, tilting his helmet up to evaluate the doctor. “Higher priorities demanded attention!†Medic tried to make use of the towel but found he was mostly dry now anyway. “May I go to my room now?†Without a word, Soldier’s hands were on Medic’s chest, sliding down until the American man was kneeling before him, pulling up his pant legs in one swift movement and feeling the limbs underneath. The hands reached all the way up to his knees before Medic tried to wriggle away, bristling. Before Medic could complain Soldier bounced back to his feet. “You are still MOIST but I will LET THAT SLIDE. This time.†He paused, allowing the warning to sink in. “DISMISSED!†Medic didn’t bother to so much as glance at the Scotsmen or Heavy’s favorite client as he took off down the hall in a sprint. ** As far as Medic knew the room had never been used before but it was set up to be lived it at a moment’s notice, having a few generic pieces of furniture such as a dresser and armchair. Fresh sheets had been put on the bed and someone must have dusted as well. Medic made a mental note to thank Miss Pauling. Not even bothering to take off his clothes, he had wasted no time hopping into the shower that rested within the room’s personal adjoining bathroom. He had stripped them off once the water that swirled down the drain was no longer brown, tossing the wet garments into a pile on the tiled bathroom floor. Even though he was exhausted, he switched the faucet from shower to bath and sprawled out in the tub (which was twice the size of a normal one; Medic assumed it was meant to fit more than one person), relaxing as the hot water rose to lap at his shoulders. It was oddly peaceful, alone in that unfamiliar room with only the sound of running water barreling into the tub. He was so glad the day was over. At least, he had thought it was over until a series of knocks resounding in the room startled him into gripping the edge of the tub for support. Knocks on the bathroom door which was only accessible from inside his room. Medic cursed loud and violent, ready to drown whoever was disturbing him in the bathwater. He hated this brothel for thinking it was a good idea not to install locks on the room’s doors. Not on the inside, at least. Every room could be locked from the outside, which was for when it was not occupied to ensure there were no unwanted intruders or theft. Miss Pauling had told him that they didn’t lock from the inside for safety reasons, in case a client decides to get violent (without permission) and lock the door, which would prevent help from getting inside the room in a timely manner. The bathroom doors being subject to the same reasoning, did not have locks at all. Medic didn’t know if he wanted the person knocking to come in so he could be wrestled into the tub and drowned, or to stay outside so that Medic wouldn’t have to wrestle him into the tub while naked and wet. Either way it was apparent that if the door was opened, two people would be dying a little. “Sorry Doktor,†came a familiar Russian voice. Medic’s tantrum came to an abrupt halt. “Heavy?†“Da, is me.†“You are the last one I would expect to be a complete nascence and invade my privacy.†“…Spy said Doktor was in trouble like little baby today, had to call Sniper to come save him on white horse,†Heavy explained as though that was an adequate excuse. “That was not how it happened!†Medic was screeching at this point but he couldn’t bring himself to care. “I know. That is why I come, to make sure Doktor is okay. Do not trust that Sniper did good job rescuing.†Medic wished the door was not solid so he could crash through it and strangle the man on the other side, being wet and naked no longer seemed like a hindrance. “I AM NOT A DAMSEL IN DISTRESS!†He got out of the bath and tore a fresh towel from its place in the cabinet and began drying himself with vigor. “I know doktor is not book princess.†Heavy was silent for a long moment and Medic suspected that he was allowing the doctor time to calm down. “Spy also said you got in fight with little Scout in mud. Brought clean clothes for you.†The doctor’s movements slowed to a robotic pace as he secured the towel around his waist. He had completely forgotten about needing a change of clothes. Heavy’s presence did not seem like such a huge annoyance anymore. With hesitance and a deep frown, Medic opened the bathroom door to glower up at the man who only returned the hostility with concern. Heavy looked him over, eyes lingering on his chest. Medic thought he must be checking for bruises and other signs of damage, and he stomped past the man in a huff. “I am fine, Heavy, really.†Medic wasn’t fully dry yet and the room was carpeted, both facts were extremely satisfying. Take that, Soldier. The clothes were neatly folded on the corner of the bed, Medic lifted up the garment on top—a large tee-shirt that he was positive belonged to Heavy. “Is clean,†Heavy insisted when Medic turned to raise his eyebrow at him. “It is huge,†Medic corrected. “Does not matter, is for sleeping.†This time Heavy’s voice was more defiant and Medic got the impression that he was going to wear the shirt whether he liked it or not. “We will find you something better in morning.†Medic slipped the shirt over his head, too tired to argue. The shirt slipped down one of his shoulders and looked absolutely ridiculous. But Heavy was right, it would do for now. Even though the shirt was more like a short dress on him, Medic was still in need of a lower garment. He frowned as he delicately lifted the silken boxer shorts with the tips of his fingers. “And where did you get these?†Medic asked, nose wrinkled. They were too small to belong to Heavy. “They are Spy’s, he said they are new.†When Medic continued to look skeptical Heavy added, “You know him, is always buying things he never wears.†That was true, if Spy saw something he liked he bought it, using the excuse that one never knows what clothing future endeavors will call for. Medic was sure he was just a shopaholic. Inspecting the boxers thoroughly, Medic even went so far as to smell them before he deemed them safe for wear, slipping them on underneath his towel before removing it. Medic shifted in place, getting used to the feel of the new clothes and feeling utterly ridiculous while Heavy still hovered a few feet away. “Thank you Heavy, really, but you can go now.†Heavy grinned, ruffling Medic’s wet hair in a rough gesture. “Da, will let Doktor rest now.†Already pulling back the covers to climb into bed as Heavy headed for the door, Medic froze when Heavy lingered for longer than necessary. “What is it now?†“The door. Is locked.†Medic was about to snap at his stupidity and tell him to unlock it then, but then he remembered once again that the door only locked from the outside. “What?!†“Is strange. Only Doktor should have key—what did you do with it?†“I… I—“ What did he do with it? He was so mentally and physically exhausted that thinking back to just a short while ago was a painful and confusing process. “I think—no, I am sure tossed it on the bed.†Movements frantic with frustration, Medic searched the folds of the blankets for any sign of the key. It was then that he found a note lying on one of the pillows. “I thought you could use a stand in for your wife tonight so that you do not turn into a lonely, pathetic man.†Medic read aloud, voice growing darker with each passing word, the paper shaking in his clenched fist. “P.S. Do not speak to the laborer like that again. Love, Spy.†What was this, some sort of payback for what he said to Engineer? That was it. Medic was through with this place. “Mein gott, do you people have no decency?! If it is not one thing it is another, are you all so bored that you have to spend your time terrorizing me?!†Medic crushed the note in his hands and threw it at the door before stomping over to kick it, following with his fists slamming against the wood door one after the other. If he was in a better mood Medic might find it ironic that at the end of the day he was still reduced to beating on a door until his fists bled. Maybe that had been Spy’s intent, to create the scenario which Medic had explicitly stated that he had gone out of his way to avoid. Warm fingers encircled his arm, bringing his violent movements to a stop as he was spun around. “Doktor. Is only Spy and Scout who have terrorized you, and I do not think little Scout is able to be frightening, is just too annoying for own good. Do not take this out on all of us.†Medic started struggling, attempting to pull his arm away from the other man’s grip, but the hand on his arm only tightened. “No, I do not care! I’ve had it with you—with you godforsaken whores!†The weight of the last word startled Medic and he immediately regretted saying it. He was being grossly unprofessional. The fight drained out of him all at once and he was left feeling empty and embarrassed by his own behavior. “Heavy—I am sorry, I did not mean—†A deep, rumbling laugh reverberated through Heavy. Absurdly, Medic itched to listen to the other man’s laughter via a stethoscope—or maybe just eyes closed with an ear pressed up against his chest. He must be delirious from lack of sleep, not to mention stress. “Do not be silly, Doktor. Engineer thinks word is degrading to women and Spy thinks word is not high enough title, but rest of us would not be ashamed to call ourselves whore. Little Scout even brags about it.†“Why am I not surprised,†Medic managed to mutter as Heavy released his arm. “Doktor needs sleep, is pointless to fight door.†“But—“ “Medic can stay trapped in tower for one night, will not be so bad. Someone will come to rescue in morning.†Medic snorted. “Isn’t a dragon supposed to guard the princess in the tower, not a giant?†Heavy stared at him before bursting out into another bought of amusement. Medic fisted his hands in his hair and tugged, his groan of disgust at comparing himself to a princess transforming into reluctant laughter. Perhaps he really was delirious. “I will sleep on floor,†Heavy said after the laughter died down. Medic nodded, staggering over to the bed to divide the blankets and pillows and toss them on the floor for the other man. Just as he was about to toss the extra pillow off the bed he hesitated. The bed was big—it had to be given what it was initially meant to be used for. It seemed cruel and insulting to make Heavy sleep on the floor when there was enough room for the both of them. “…No,†Medic said, voice quiet. “This is stupid, just sleep on the bed with me.†If Medic’s dignity had not already been ripped from him multiple times during the course of the day, he might have winced at his own words. Heavy’s eyebrows shot up. “Is Doktor—“ “Yes Heavy, I am sure.†Medic replaced the pillow on its side of the bed and crawled under the covers, scooting as close as he could to the edge of the bed, pointedly tossing the blankets over himself and plopping down into the mattress. God, it felt good. Medic closed his eyes and focused idly on the sound of Heavy’s footsteps. The light went off, Medic could tell because the insides of his eyelids were no longer tinted red. After that it wasn’t long before the mattress dipped as Heavy settled beside him. Heavy’s arm pressed against his back but other than that there was no contact. “Goodnight, Doktor.†Too content to give a proper answer, Medic just hummed in response. It should have bothered him that he could feel the Russian man breathing beside him in a way that was impossible with his dainty wife. Instead of annoying him, the rise and fall of Heavy’s chest only registered as a pleasant constant. That proved it; this place had successfully rendered him insane and delirious. ** It was one in the afternoon and Pyro was starting breakfast in the brothel’s small kitchen despite knowing only a few others would be awake. Soldier and Scout were always up first running laps together around the perimeter of the building; Pyro would expect Scout to barge in demanding breakfast as usual but for some reason Scout had skipped training that morning, opting to stay in bed. Pyro knew this because Solider had told him on his way to the kitchen, demanding that Pyro did not make Scout breakfast should he surface. When Pyro inquired as to why, Soldier told him that birds that sleep in do not get the worm, before retreating into his room via a slamming door. Poor Scout, Pyro would just have to feed him scraps under the table when Soldier wasn’t looking. Tempting the other men out of bed with food everyday was part of his self-appointed job, giving each of them a personal breakfast in bed was not. If they wanted food they would have to drag themselves to the table, otherwise Pyro knew many of them would go straight back to sleep. Besides, breakfasts in bed were to be reserved for special occasions. Today happened to be one of them. “Hello there, dirty girl.†The voice arrived with arms around Pyro’s waist from behind, squeezing tight and pulling him back into the owner’s warm body. Pyro felt his own breathy chuckle bounce off the walls of his gasmask and fan across his face. One of his hands was busy manning the frying pan while his other reached over to grab the Bloody Mary he had prepared the second he had got into the kitchen; a hangover tonic for the habitual drunk. At first Pyro nudged Demoman’s arm with the glass, but when the Scot refused to remove his arms from Pyro’s waist, he was forced to hold the glass for Demoman to drink over Pyro’s shoulder. The results were imperfect, Pyro was too busy watching the cooking breakfast and Demoman was hung-over, some of the cool dark orange liquid spilled down Demoman’s chin and onto Pyro’s bare shoulder. Pyro shrugged in attempt to staunch the tickling sensation the dribbling drink created. The cool wetness was soon replaced with a warm sliding pressure and he was chuckling again as Demoman licked the spilled drink from his skin. A cackling from the frying pan demanded that priorities be decided, so Pyro set the glass down and went back to work on the breakfast. It was odd, shuffling around the kitchen with clumsy steps mirroring his. Ability to maneuver with convenience was staunched but the mouth on his shoulder and the cool, damp marks it left were more than enough to make up for the loss of mobility and food slightly more burnt than usual. It was funny, when Pyro had first discovered the conventional domestic use for heat and fire, he had always intentionally burnt the food he cooked. The end result was usually inedible to anyone but him, but he could never resist. The smell of burning food and that bitter charred taste was something he was unable to get enough of. Once he came here Pyro found that everyone loved it when he cooked things by normal standards, so he obliged. The delighted faces of friends were almost as satisfying as burning animal flesh. “When’re you going to take that thing off for me,†Demoman asked, voice gruff with the morning as he nibbled Pyro’s shoulder. Pyro had waddled down to the kitchen that afternoon in nothing but his boxers, adorning his apron upon arrival. Both of those were fair game for removal so Pyro could only assume Demoman meant his gasmask. But everyone knew that never came off—and Demoman knew Pyro better than anyone. It had started out simple enough, hats and scarves and hands pulled close to his face, hesitant nibbling of fingers as he spoke to others. As a child it was acceptable, as an adult it was suspicious. Even having hair to his chin as a teenager to obscure some of his face had been pushing it. Security, that was all it was—providing the comforting feeling that he was partially invisible to the world, safe as long as there was something solid between him and everyone else. It had not been hard to develop an obsession with masks, collecting them becoming something of a hobby. Wearing them in public was less than acceptable, but here the quirk only attracted customers. Something about the mystery of not knowing the face of the person you were being intimate with. As a result Pyro usually got the clients with the more bizarre fetishes, but he didn’t mind as he had a few bizarre fetishes of his own. The food now safe and sound on plates, Pyro had no qualms about shifting his entire focus to the other man, wriggling out of his arms to turn and fix him with a stare that translated despite the mask. “Hhy uuld uu rrsk thht?†The room was silent for a long moment as Demoman did nothing but return the stare, his one eye narrowed in quiet evaluation and his mouth turned down at one corner. Pyro was almost ready to smack the other man with the spatula just to get him to say something when Demoman leaned forward and pressed his lips against the left lens of the gasmask. Though Pyro could not feel the kiss, his eye automatically squinted as if the pressure of the other man’s lips had landed too close to it. “Ay, I’ll help you with this,†Demoman said, pulling away and reaching around Pyro to grab one of the plates. By reflex alone Pyro brought the spatula down hard on Demoman’s hand, successfully shooing it away with a startled jerk. “Nuu, Ah ght ht.†Grabbing the plate, Pyro shuffled out of the kitchen with more haste than necessary. The familiar anxiousness made him feel sick; an old friend that his masks were meant to scare away.
Gahahahah. Sasha and Natasha are clients. Oh that is brilliant.
This pleases me greatly.
Oh wow, I remember seeing this one before the crash. I thought I would never see it again. Glad to see it back.
That's where I remembered this ending! Medic at the end of his rope finally taking a break to relax and sleep at the side of Heavy, who better get some stress out of that doctor before he blows a gasket. We prefer blowing other things. Everyone is so right to character but so unique! Thank you so much for posting this again and for daring to hint that more could come next.
This is really really wonderful, and I look forward to seeing it update. The characterization is very nice and you paint a very effective portrait of what life is like around the brothel.
Thanks so much for all the comments. It's extremely motivating. Any comments/crit is appreciated. ** There were few people in this world that were not jealous of Scout. Soldier was no exception. That was why the older man singled him out more than anyone else, Scout thought, shaken from sleep and disgruntled as his curtains were yanked open. Afternoon sunlight assaulting his eyes, Scout threw the blanket over his head and whined in a way that any lesser man would be embarrassed by. “I will NOT allow you to lay in bed and SULK all day!†“Man, I ain’t sulkin’—hey!!†The covers were ripped clean off of his bed and Scout scrambled to shield his eyes from the light. “The fuck? Get out, you ain’t my drill sergeant.†“You got that right, son. I am no petty DRILL SERGEANT—and you will address me as sir.†Soldier stood as he always did, chest puffed out and posture as straight as Scout was convinced he himself was when he first started working for RED (and that was unrelenting, obnoxious, compensating-for-something straight). Sure, his fellow American played the part of a diligent army man without flaw or falter, but it was so forced that it couldn’t be legitimate—much like Scout’s ex-heterosexuality. Everyone knew it was one big act but they chose to pretend it wasn’t for the sake of the show, like any good audience member would. At this point, Scout felt like throwing vegetables at the stage. “Sir what exactly? Sir Never-Served-a-Day-in-His-Life?†Soldier’s nostrils flared, self-restraint radiating from his entire being, visibly struggling to refrain from responding. Scout hooked a finger under the ball chain around his own neck, not removing his eyes from Soldier as he brought the dog tags up to his face and pulled them into his mouth with his tongue. The moment Soldier lunged forward Scout panicked, expecting to be strangled. Instead the tense fingers found his shoulders, gripping hard enough to bruise. “Maggots like you are a disease of society, thinking they’ve repaid their debt to their country by spending a few months playing house in boot camp.†Soldier’s nose pressed right up against Scout’s. They would be looking each other dead in the eye if it wasn’t for the dumb oversized helmet Soldier insisted upon wearing. Scout had spent more than a few months in training but he wasn’t about to correct Soldier, not when the other man’s bared teeth were so close to his jugular. Besides, everyone knew the story involving his stint in the military; it was one of Scout’s favorite to tell. He loved complaining about how he had just finished nearly a year’s worth of training and was ready to be put to good use when his mother decided it was a good idea to convince (here he would punctuate with a thrust of his hips) the higher-ups to come up with some bullshit reason to discharge him. Boy, had he been pissed—but he couldn’t blame his ma, her intentions were that of a woman worried for the life of her youngest son. Didn’t mean he didn’t like bitching about the ordeal though, despite it always ending with someone calling his mom a slut—which only resulted in fist fights. Nobody talked about his ma like that, nobody. “You have no IDEA what I’ve gone through to serve this country without EVER asking for praise or recognition or the medals I deserve!†Soldier ranted on. Sometimes Scout wondered if Soldier had ever really done any of the shit he always claimed to have done. Everyone else seemed to write it off as either delusions or compulsion to lie and an overactive imagination. “You would not last ONE SECOND with a—†Oh how Scout hated Soldier’s long rants, especially when receiving them in such an uncomfortable position, pinned to the bed with Soldier’s booming voice in deafening proximity. Scout rolled his eyes, something that could only be seen by the dent on Soldier’s helmet. Once Scout realized this, he went for an approach that would communicate his disinterest more successfully. He yawned in Soldier’s face. In hindsight, as he was ripped from his bed in a flash of flailing limbs and startled vocalizations, being dragged by the ankle across his room—Scout thought that maybe yawning hadn’t been such a good idea. The linoleum floor of his personal bathroom did not aid in his attempt to drag himself away like the carpet had, though the cool, smooth surface did soothe the rug burn a bit. “I see that you have not BATHED since the events of last night,†Soldier said, voice detached from the anger that had slipped through not moments ago. It was true, he had just stripped and burrowed into bed. There were still flecks of dried mud speckling his legs and abdomen. “Yeah, so what?†“So what? We have a quality of product to maintain here—and by God you will MAINTAIN it or I will do it FOR YOU.†Sharp pain shot through him as he was tossed into the tub, feeling like his body was nothing but sharp edges and bone as his elbows took the brunt of the fall. “What the shit man! So much for taking care of the freakin’ product, I’m going to bruise—and I can take a shower on my—“ Scout immediately started flailing to escape the spray of ice cold water that stung his body, the tub groaning from the friction of his slick skin moving against it. Even if he hadn’t been too disoriented to escape it wouldn’t have mattered because Soldier was kneeling outside of the tub, leaning in just enough to hold Scout down with one arm. The shrieks forcing their way out of Scout’s mouth were a jumble of incomprehensible insults mixed with pleas and spluttering as he tried to keep from inhaling water. His eyes were shut tight, legs flailing and hands holding on to Soldier’s arm for dear life. Even though it was the thing holding him down, he needed to grip something. Soldier didn’t pull away until Scout had stopped struggling and his shouts had been reduced to a continuous, pathetic keening. At that point Scout was too cold to move, even if it meant escape. He continued to lie there until the water was switched to warm. “You have no f-f-f-fucking idea how much I hate you,†he breathed, voice only showing signs of relief. It was heaven. The spray wasn’t too hot to sting his shivering body. Soldier gradually adjusted it hotter until Scout found the energy to sit up. Soldier shut off the water. “Do not BITE the hand that CLEANS you.†“That doesn’t even make sense,†Scout said. “And I don’t feel clean, I feel like a fucking penguin.†“I do not need your SASS, boy.†“And I don’t need dudes tryin’ ta turn me into a human popsicle!†“Cold showers are for MEN. They are REVITALIZING.†Scout almost laughed at that. “Then give yourself one. I bet you need it, I know seeing my dog tags always gets you hot.†The other man stood, walking over to the sink with purpose. Using both hands, Soldier removed his helmet with a careful sort of precision and placed it on the counter. Scout watched as he rolled up each sleeve even though his shirt was already wet, before he began rummaging through the cabinet. “What’re you—“ “SILENCE, MAGGOT.†Scout glanced over to the open door, contemplating escape. He was faster than Soldier but the man held grudges; only temporary escape would await him. The part of him that liked the attention the older man gave him convinced Scout to stay. His mouth remained shut, eyes following Soldier as he knelt by the tub again, this time turning on the bath instead of the shower. The water that hit the bottom of the tub and sprayed Scout’s toes was hot, thank God. With the bottle he had retrieved from the cabinet in hand, Soldier unscrewed the lid and poured some of the contents into the cap. The bottle wasn’t something Scout used often, it took him a moment of eying it to place exactly what it was. “Hey! My MA sent me that!!†“Then I must write her and demand to know WHY she raised her SON to prefer BUBBLE BATHS to COLD SHOWERS,†Soldier replied, letting the bubblegum pink fluid get mixed into white fluff by the rush of the faucet. “ENABLING is the worst thing a parent can do!†Despite having measured out the mixture accordingly using the cap, Soldier glared at the bottle before shaking the whole thing over the tub. Streams of pink streaked across Scout’s body, dripping down his chest and folded knees. “What the hell?!†“Best to get RID of the WHOLE THING. Weaning is for babies, you will quit this sick obsession COLD TURKEY.†Solder dropped the bottle to float in the rising, bubbly water. “I don’t fucking take bubble baths, I told you my ma just—“ “I do not want to hear EXCUSES,†Solder said, leaning over the bath once again to grab Scout’s leg, yanking it until the boy was leaning back on his elbows, water and suds lapping over his stomach. Scout glared, eyes full of accusation. “Ow, I’m goin’ ta look like someone beat me.†“Flesh wounds,†Soldier said, stretching to retrieve the bar of soap and wash cloth he had brought along with the bottle of bubble bath. Scout’s expression softened to one of curiosity as the other man began scrubbing, wet cloth running over the well-defined muscles of his leg. Strong, thick fingers could easily be felt behind the thin cloth, molding to the curve of his calf. His low hum of appreciation turned into a chuckle as the fabric met his foot, the tickling sensation causing him to involuntarily jerk his leg back. This only prompted Soldier to tug Scout forward again and toss the slippery appendage over his shoulder. All of a sudden the bubbles were a godsend. Seeing Solder leaning into the bath, lips pulled into a line of concentration as he rubbed the washcloth into circles on Scout’s thigh—well, it was arousing. Even without all the rest, having his leg draped over someone else’s shoulder was enough to cause Scout’s breath to quicken. He had to resist the urge to lift his other leg from the water and wrap it around the older man too. The water lapping over Scout’s nipples caused a sharp intake of breath. Soldier looked up, locking eyes with Scout who bit his lip and reached blindly to the side in order to shut the water off. If it got any higher he wouldn’t be able to lean back like he was without getting a mouth full of suds. Soldier looked Scout right in the eye as he slid the cloth over the softer skin of his inner thigh. Scout’s breath quickened not unlike it did when he jogged alongside Soldier most mornings. He barely managed to suppress the groan that threatened to escape as the pressure Soldier’s fingers worked magic on the muscle beneath his skin. Scout’s hips bucked forward as the man’s hand drew lower, but he quickly played the movement off as an attempt to spread his legs wider to grant Soldier more access (for washing, Scout had to remind himself). Soldier tore his eyes away and pulled Scout’s other leg up to rest on edge of the tub beside him, turning his attentions to the neglected limb. Scout’s breath quickened to a soft pant, eyes taking in the scene of Soldier between his legs, paying them the same attention Scout had only seen him give to his helmet and shovel during their daily polishing. It didn’t even matter that his legs were cold, the methodical scrubbing was enough to make up for it. Apart from the occasional sportsmanlike brawl or the physical annoyance Scout provided to anyone who was in range to be sat on or leaned against, Scout had never been this close to Soldier before. Right about now he was wondering why the hell not. Like all the others he did not partake in dating or any such nonsense, but he never felt the need to screw the other men who worked at RED, let alone form emotional bonds with them as the others did. It made sense, not wanting to date a civilian (a term Soldier coined for people who didn’t share their profession) because of all the problems their line of work would create within a relationship. Sure, he’d slept with a few of the others in the form of a threesome at a client’s request, but it had never gone further than that. Right now Scout was remembering every time he’d ever repressed the urge to jump the imaginary military man while he was shirtless and sweating from a run, towering above Scout tapping his foot, verbally coaxing more push-ups out of Scout—hell, now that Scout thought about it there were a lot of times he’d popped a boner at the other man’s unknowing request. Speaking of boners, Scout hadn’t realized he was stroking his current one until his fingers were around it. The usual hasty stroking motions were slowed by the water, but that was probably for the best, he wasn’t sure how Soldier would react if he noticed was going on beneath the bubbles. Scout’s gaze never left Soldier, watching the small movements of his arms while focusing on the cloth running over his skin. The man’s body was impressive; Scout had seen him shirtless enough to easily picture the muscle moving beneath his shirt. His fingers tightened around his cock as he imagined pressing his chest against Soldier’s, his smooth, lithe body contrasting Soldier’s bulkier frame in all the right ways. In bed the older man was probably as diligent and thorough as he was in all other aspects of life. As Scout’s eyes threatened to slip closed he imagined Soldier’s weight bearing down on him, all hard muscle and precise, strong movements, hips thrusting forward to connect with him over and over. Again, Scout nearly bucked out of the water, legs squirming and body tensing, unable to keep still as the water weighing his hand’s movements was becoming more of an annoyance. The frustrated whine that threatened to bubble out of his mouth was only just stifled. When he caught a glimpse of the older man’s tongue darting out to wet his lips, Scout could almost feel it swirling around the head of his cock as his thumb mimicked the motion. The moan that spilled from his lips resounded like church bells inside the near silent bathroom. Scout drew in a shuddering breath and held it; eyes wide as Soldier froze and fixed him with a stare. The flush of his face could be blamed on the hot water, but he knew the erratic breathing was enough to give him away. In one quick movement, Soldier’s hand shot into the water and before Scout knew it larger fingers replaced his grip around his erection. Scout pushed his hips up into Soldier's palm, on the verge of begging the man to move his hand when it left Scout's erection altogether. “I am disappointed in you, son. Have you no SELF RESTRAINT? †With that, Soldier shifted, looking like he was about to get up and leave. “H-Hey, wait a minute—“ Scout panicked, repositioning his legs so that they were both wrapped around the other man’s middle, pinning him in place between them and the side of the tub. “You can’t just leave!†Soldier sighed, shaking his head and placing a steady hand on Scout’s leg, attempting to stand Scout’s legs tightened around Soldier and he jerked them forward, throwing Soldier off balance. Both of Soldier's hands shot out to meet the bottom of the tub with two wet thuds. Soldier didn't have time to complain because the moment he opened his mouth Scout’s tongue was inside it, kissing him hard. Scout wound his arms around Soldier's neck, body shivering in protest as his wet arms were exposed to the cool air. Right now, Scout was sure that they were both thankful for the obscene amount of push-ups Soldier is capable of, or else his arms would not be strong enough to hold both of them up like that. The sound of a helmet hitting water was heard before Soldier pulled away from Scout, who was too preoccupied with the other's mouth to maintain his death-grip. Scout whined at the loss of contact while Soldier scooped up his helmet and turned to leave without a word. Stubborn and desperate for contact from the older man, Scout launched himself out of the tub, intending to tackle, only to slip and fall on his face for the second time in less than twenty-four hours.
Oh God, oh, my secret OTP. I love you so much. E-excuse me, I need to go...do homework...
Fuck yes. You're fantastic. I loved this little Soldier / Scout section. And really, I've never actually thought of the couple before.. hmmm... I guess I'll have to start thinking about that one. Goddamn it, Scout is such a sexy slut, too. Nnnf.
Please. Please, oh, pretty please write more. Please?
Seconded. Seconded so very much. This is probably one of the best fics I've seen on here. I've never been a fan of AE stuff, but this is amazing.
Holy crap. I was just thinking that you couldn't outdo the heavy/medic scene when I read the demo/pyro one. Then I read the soldier/scout one. I don't know what I love most about this fic anymore!
More, please!
yesss its back. the only au I have ever actually enjoyed. please keep going! you've made characters I usually hate at least somewhat sympathetic.
That Scout\Solly interaction was beautimous. Haven't really read many TF2 aus, but it looks like I'm off to a great start! Can't wait for more updates from you!
this is the only fic on the chan i care about appreciation-and-devotion bump
You.... BASTARD.
Dude, really? Great. Now I'm going to have to punch an infant in its soft-spot. I hope you're happy, you WHORE.
Hey, Anon 27, don't insult Heavy by calling 25 that. (Not actually sore about bumping; it just was a joke waiting to happen.)
Please. Come back. PLEASE.
Damn. It's always been Helmet Party for me, but now you've added another variable to the equation and I cannot unread. Which ain't such a bad thing actually. MOAR PLEASE.
I miss this fic. Anyone knows what happened to the author?
shameless necrobump Come back Anon, we miss you
I was just thinking about this fic yesterday. While necrobumps are annoying, at lesat now i don't have to dig to find it.
GODDAMNIT Why do you get my hopes up? WHY?! I would happily trade one of my limbs to see this continued and finished! I've even considered taking it over just to keep it alive! Damn you Anon, come back!
Y'know Dok, seeing as how this anon has kept quiet this long I'm feeling they ain't coming back to this... :/ So I'm for one voting that you take this one over. Maybe in a separate thread, perhaps?
Sooo....did anyone decide to take this one up? Erm, did Ze Doktor take this to another thread? Because I am just dying to read more.