I'm looking for a fiction that was written for the 2010 TF2chan secret santa. I forgot the author's name, though. The thread isn't in the archives either, so i'm totally at a loss here. The title in the thread was "for Eva" (obviously) it was a Sniper/Demoman fic written for the prompt of Demoman bottoming. The story was about Sniper and Demo having some sort of secret sexual relationship after Sniper started hanging out with the rest of the team by request of Medic, Demoman getting drunk, and it ended in sex. I can provide a more detailed description, i remember it perfectly, just would like to have it again. I apologize if i accidentally broke an unwritten rule or something, i tried looking for a "lost fic" thread but couldn't find it, so i had to make a new one. Thank you in advance for your help.
If you click "ALL THREADS" and go to page 6, you would find the old Secret Santa thread. I found it in five seconds, I recommend you look harder next time. The more clutter we get, the more likely we'll really lose those SS fics. Regardless, I will post it here for you: ------------------------------------------------ This turned out a little more fluffy than I expected. I was stumped when I first got the pairing request, but once I figured out a concept it felt pretty natural. Hope you enjoy. Also I am shit at endings, the end. ------------------------------------------------------------- The RED Sniper sat down at the table in the mess hall, at once digging into the pile of mashed potatoes before him. He had started taking meals with the team only recently, and was surprised how much he enjoyed it. For a good while he had taken food up to one of his nests or back to his camper van to eat by himself, watching the opposite windows or listening to the one station the radio picked up. The frequency of songs like “Little Red Riding Hood,†“Red River Rock,†and “Red Red Wine,†made him suspect that the company was broadcasting it. The other side probably got an earful of “Blue Moon.†It was Medic that convinced him to eat in the cafeteria with everyone else. He’d gone to see the doc for some sedatives or something. Something to calm the nervous tics he was developing that were starting to throw off his aim. The constant threat of spies was getting to him; it wasn’t something he’d had to deal with in the bush. Medic hadn’t given him any little white pills or injections. He’d just looked at him over the rim of his spectacles in an infuriatingly amused manner (“This is bloody serious, mate!â€) and told him that maybe he should try to relieve his stress in more conventional ways first. “Vhy don’t you try eating viz ze rest of us for a change? You might find zat spending time outside of battle viz your teammates can be quite relaxing.†Sniper had left angry, but he’d tried it anyway. It wasn’t like he had any other ideas. It was actually quite nice. In their off time the other RED members were a colorful bunch of characters, and the conversation was never boring. He liked hearing stories of the city, of the country, of other countries, and all the different lives these men had led before ending up here. And he’d found that he was quite the storyteller himself, reciting Aborigine fables he thought he’d forgotten. Talking and laughing with colleagues that even approached friends really was helping him unwind, and his involuntary spasms occurred less and less. And there was one other effect that Medic had probably not envisioned when he had suggested it, but which made the biggest difference of all in terms of relieving stress. Tonight Scout was recounting the time he and his brothers had taken on the O’Malley boys, but Sniper was only half listening. He was keeping a close eye on the Demoman. He now thought he could predict which nights the Scot would pay him a visit, and tonight was looking quite likely. Demoman was staying relatively quiet, spending more time swigging from his bottle than anything. He was trying to get drunk fast, or more so than normal, anyway. The man was always at least tipsy, he seemed to work better that way, so when he wanted to let loose he had to get a good deal more inebriated than the average person. He was the epitome of a high-functioning alcoholic, but at the rate he was going tonight Sniper wasn’t sure he would have any functions left. He thought it was a pretty safe bet that he’d be hearing a slow arrhythmic knock on the camper’s door later. He smirked at the Demoman knowingly, but the Scot just turned away, pretending to listen to Scout’s animated tale as he drank deeply from his bottle. After dinner Sniper declined Heavy’s invitation to a game of poker and headed back to his camper. Poker wound him up, almost more than sniping, and besides, he was expecting a guest. He tried to tidy the place up a little, at least get the gun cleaning kit off the bed. He may have kept a messy home but his mum had taught him right where receiving visitors was involved. Once the place looked mildly presentable he flicked on the radio (“Red Dressâ€). Then he sat in the driver’s seat and waited. An hour passed, then another. It was getting late, and surely Demo was plenty full of liquid courage by now. Still, nobody knocked, and Sniper was starting to get restless. It was none of his business of course, what the other man was up to, and a month ago he wouldn’t have cared. But along with relieving stress, spending more time with the team had caused him to actually get to know the guys, and he was surprised to find that he was actually cognizant, if not concerned about their well-being. He’d noticed this during battle as well, when he spent more time looking for team mates in trouble he could help out with a well-placed shot than just looking for any stationary head that would get him a kill. Maybe Demoman was just drinking to drink, not to get up the nerve to approach Sniper. Maybe it was Sniper’s own wishful thinking that led him to an incorrect conclusion. He gave himself another 15 minutes, then he would get up to take a stroll. Just a walk around the base, that’s all, to get some air. If he ran into Demoman he could say hello, he wasn’t going out to find him or anything. He jiggled his booted foot up on the dashboard while he waited, feeling the tension building up in him, just like it did when he was lining up the crosshairs. This would take a bit more to relieve than just a successful headshot though. He stood up a minute earlier than planned, turned off the radio (“Lady in Redâ€) and put on his hat as he stepped through the door into the crisp desert night air. Things were fairly quiet as he walked through the base. He passed by the rec room, where Engineer, Medic, Heavy, and Pyro were still playing poker. It looked like it had changed from a casual game into one of silent intensity, and Sniper was glad he’d declined. Everyone else had probably headed to bed, especially after the seemingly endless back and forth of the battle that day. Sniper told himself he was just making a natural circuit, not looking for anything in particular. Demoman could do as he pleased, drink as he pleased and not come see Sniper as he pleased, and it wasn’t Sniper’s place to go and check up on him. There were no obligations, no ties, even if they had become connected in other ways on more than one occasion. He came across the Scot halfway between the bedrooms and the showers. He was leaning heavily on the brick wall, like he was taking a break to wait for the world to right itself again. Sniper approached, attempting to be casually cheerful. “Oy, mate, havin’ some trouble there?†He cursed himself for not thinking of something better. If the other man hadn’t been so drunk he might have noticed. But he was quite drunk. Sniper thought perhaps more so than he’d ever seen him as Demo looked up, squinting his one eye as he tried to identify who was in front of him. After what seemed like quite a long time, his face finally registered recognition and he slurred, “Oh, s’you. Ahwas just on me way ta ye car’van, but….ah…had tamake abitova detoo-“ Demoman heaved forward, retching a bit. Sniper caught him before he fell to the ground, straining under the near-dead weight of the other man. “Whoa there, mate. Think we betta get you to the toilets on the double, ‘fore you make a mess ‘a tha floor.†Sniper dragged the other man, who was mumbling incoherently and seemed to be fading in and out of consciousness, the rest of the way to the showers. He opened the door with one hand, shifting his weight to support Demo and pulled him in before the door closed on them. Spy was at the large mirror in front of the row of sinks. His mask snapped against his neck as he pulled his thumb out from the edge, having apparently just put it back on. Other than that he was wearing nothing but a towel, and watched the Sniper struggle across the tile with mild interest. “Ah, what ‘ave we here?†he asked, more than a hint of amusement in his voice. “None a ya bloody business, spook,†Sniper bit back. He knew it was no use asking for help, so he didn’t bother. He grunted a bit as he lurched the last few feet into the stall and managed not to crack the Scot’s head on the seat as he brought him down to face level with it. Demo gave a miserable sort of moan and asked “Kin I…†“Er, yeh, we’re here. Go ahead, let it out,†Sniper replied, feeling a bit awkward. He turned away as Demo began gagging into the toilet, wondering when he had been appointed to drunk duty. He looked around idly and his eyes fell on Spy, who now removed the towel and walked over to the locker like nothing out of the ordinary was going on. Sniper quickly found somewhere else to look. He attempted to tune out the sounds of Demo vomiting, staring blankly at the opposite wall and thinking his prediction about how tonight was going to go had been somewhat incorrect. “Ugh… las’ tiiime,†Demo began slowly, bringing Sniper out of his stupor, “Las’ time I hannae been able tae hol’ it down I was…was a wee lad.†“Yeah, maybe go easy there, eh mate?†the Australian said, turning back and kneeling down next to Demo and placing a hand on his back. He looked over his shoulder at Spy, but the Frenchman was turned away, buttoning his dress shirt. “S’ard,†Demo replied, leaning heavily on the toilet bowl. Sniper reached up and flushed it. The Scot looked up at Sniper and opened his mouth to say something else, but swiftly put his head back down and continued retching. “Er…yeah, I know but…†Sniper waited till the sickening sound of vomit hitting water ceased, “Ya don’t need ta get this drunk, mate. And…†he lowered his voice, “It’s not exactly uhm…attractive, you pukin’ your guts out like this.†“’E should ‘ave a shower,†said the Spy from right behind them. Sniper jumped at the sound of his voice so close. “Fuck off, Spy.†Sniper hoped he hadn’t heard, or at least insinuated anything from what he had been saying. “Just trying to ‘elp,†Spy shrugged. He smirked knowingly and took out a cigarette. “Ain’t s’posed ta smoke in here,†Sniper mumbled, looking back at Demo, who was panting heavily. “And what, exactly is going to catch fire in a room full of tile and water?†“Ya stupid bloody tie if you don’t mind your own business, ya damn frog.†“Get tae fuck,†Demo added, his voice echoing somewhat in the toilet bowl. “You two ‘ave a lovely evening,†Spy said cooly, then turned and walked out of the room. Sniper watched very carefully, making sure the door was closed before he turned back. “Bloody wanker. Thinks he knows everything, don’t know nothing,†he muttered, patting Demoman on the back, “Hey, how ‘bout some water, eh?†He got up and went over to the sink, turning over a cup that held a few toothbrushes and filling it with water. He brought it back and handed it to Demoman, who was now leaning with his back against the stall partition. Demoman took the cup and threw it back, downing it quickly. He huffed once it was done and handed it back. Sniper took it and refilled it, and this time the Scot just held it, taking a clumsy sip every now and then. Sniper sat on the floor a few feet away, watching him and trying to think of what to say. He had just about decided on something when the other man got there first. “Dinnae have…tae look afterme,†he said, his head lolling against the wall. “I know but uh...jus’…You looked in a bad way, I was a bit worried, is all.†“Yeknew I was…comin’ tae see ye.†He put his hand on his head, as though to hide his face. “Er, well I sorta thought…I mean… well yeah,†Sniper felt embarrassed, Demoman looked like he was about to cry. “Ye were bloody right…†Sniper stood up suddenly. Tears were the last thing he wanted to see from the Scot. “Spy’s right, you should have a shower.†He pulled the other man up and pushed him towards the shower stalls. He wasn’t wearing his blast gear, so it wasn’t too hard to get him undressed. Plus, he’d done it before, though the circumstances had been different. He wasn’t sure if the eyepatch could get wet, and hesitantly reached for it. “No. Leave t’on,†the Scot said firmly, sounding a little more lucid. Sniper goaded him into the stall, where he leaned against the tile. Sniper turned the cold water on full and stepped back. “AUGH,†Demoman yelled at the shock of the icy water. He tried to step out but the Australian pushed him back in and made sure he stayed there and didn’t slip or drown. The Scot let out a stream of unintelligible curses as he was held under the cold spray, but he didn’t fight. After about five minutes Sniper turned the water off and handed the other man a towel. Demo looked more sober, and a bit sore at the way he’d been treated. Sniper let Demo dry and dress himself, sitting on a bench and feeling more and more awkward. Now that he was somewhat sober he might actually remember some of this. He was less and less sure of how to talk to the other man. He felt the bench shift as Demo sat down next to him, and he looked over, keeping his gaze down so all he could see was the other man’s leg. Nothing was said for a few moments so Sniper looked up. Demoman was looking at him through his one eye with a mixture of anger and waryness. Sniper went ahead and said what he was thinking. “Do ya…still want to come back to my camper?†Demoman looked away for a long while, and Sniper thought he might well start crying again. But eventually he said, “Aye, alright, but-“ he got to his feet a bit unsteadily and headed over to the sink. He sorted through the pile of toothbrushes in the basin until he found his own, then set to work brushing his teeth, taking at least five minutes. When they left the bathroom Demoman seemed a bit paranoid, constantly looking around as they walked towards the back of the base. When they passed by the rec room, Sniper looked in, seeing Heavy, Medic, and Engineer still playing. Pyro had probably lost or gotten bored. When he resumed his path to his van he realized that Demo was no longer with him. He turned around and saw the other man standing on the other side of the rec room doorway, just out of sight of those inside. Sniper watched curiously as Demo waited a good thirty seconds before affecting a casual gait and walking past. He joined Sniper on the other side and urged him on. As they exited the back door Sniper realized Demo hadn’t wanted the other members of the team to see them together. He hardly thought they would have guessed at what they were doing, but he didn’t give the other man any trouble about it. When they got to the camper Sniper opened the door for Demo, who insisted that Sniper go first. Sniper thought he was starting to get an idea of just what was going on with Demoman and obliged him, climbing up into the makeshift home first. The Scot followed and shut the door behind him, turning the lock. He stood in the low-ceilinged room awkwardly while Sniper sat down on the bed. Even though he had just been more drunk than he’d ever been when he was with Sniper, after the shower he was more sober than he’d ever been when he was in Sniper’s van. Things didn’t seem to flow as naturally as they had the other times. Sniper cleared his throat awkwardly, then asked, “You er, feelin’ all right? Want some more water or anythin’?†Demo looked around, as if he were searching for something, and Sniper had a clue as to what it might be. “I’m alright…D’ye have any-“ “No,†Sniper replied before he could finish. That subject might be a good place to start. “Listen, mate…I know it’s not really any of my business what you do, but when you’re here... Ah, well I guess what I’m tryin’ ta say is that ya don’t need to get so drunk to come visit me. In fact I might be more inclined ta let ya in if you’re not completely sloshed.†Demoman turned away, like this wasn’t something he wanted to hear. He looked like he was going to take a step towards the door, but Sniper said “Come here,†firmly and the Scot turned back. He looked angry, hurt and ashamed, but he obeyed and walked over to the bed, sitting down on it. Sniper looked him in the face and asked him “Now what is all this about?†“I...I don’t…s’right hard, ‘tis,†Demo began, not meeting Sniper’s gaze, “Admittin’ to m’self that this is what I wan’, that…this s’what I am.†Sniper’s suspicions had been correct. He felt a pang of sympathy for the other man; it probably wasn’t easy being a Black Scottish Queer Cyclops. Sniper put what he hoped was a comforting hand on Demo’s knee. The Scot flinched a little, but relaxed after a moment. “Listen, mate. No one knows ‘bout this,†The Australian began, hoping that he could string his thoughts together into a reasonable statement, “No one’s got the right to know. They don’t know, and they’re not gonna judge ya. And the last person’s gonna judge ya about this is me.†Demo scoffed. “Sure, s’easy fer you,†he shot back, staring at the hand on his knee, “S’hardly any different from bein’ normal fer you. Fer me it’s…I…I’m not a man.†Sniper tried not to laugh, but he couldn’t help but let out a short one. Demo glared at him and Sniper shut up and turned serious again. “You’re a right bloody idiot if you think that. Ya could wring my scrawny neck one-handed if ya felt like it. And besides…anyone who can take…that, and enjoy it…he’s got bigger balls than any other wanker out here.†Demo laughed this time, he sounded relieved, and Sniper relaxed a bit as well. “Yeh’re right, I know, bu’…it jus’ ain’t easy…thinkin’ bout what they might say,†“I told you, they don’t know, they don’t matter, and they can piss off,†Sniper replied. Demoman finally looked him in the face and nodded, grinning slightly. Sniper knew he probably wasn’t over it like that, but for now he was letting it go. Sniper thought about how all this time the Scot had been drinking before coming to see him because he had been ashamed and then asked, “Why’d you get so drunk tonight? You never needed that much before.†Demo looked down at the floor again, gripping the fabric of his jumpsuit pants tightly. “Oh, I ah…had somethin’ in mind I wanted tae ask ye, but…more I got thinkin’ about it…harder it was tae do without a lil’ more scrumpy.†“What is it?†Sniper asked, now extremely curious. “I…I wanted tae ask ye…if…†Demo stopped, squeezing his eyes shut. Sniper could tell he was truly struggling with this and gripped his leg a bit tighter. Demoman took a deep breath and said, “I wanted tae ask if yeh’d kiss me.†He spit it out fast and then looked at Sniper out of the corner of his eye, trying to gauge his reaction. Sniper bit his lip, trying not to laugh at such a simple request. It wasn’t something they’d done before, it just wasn’t something that came up or that Sniper had thought of in the midst of it. Now he knew why the Scot had stopped to brush his teeth before they had left the showers, and he was rather glad for it. Without any other answer he turned Demoman fully towards him and leaned in, kissing him full on the mouth. Demo closed his eye and let out a bit of a moan, leaning into Sniper and opening his mouth up to him. Sniper took the invitation and darted his tongue into the Scot’s mouth, where it met with the other man’s own tongue pushing back against his. It felt easy, natural, all of the awkwardness between them over the evening was gone. It was a logical and simple progression to start undressing Demo again, and Sniper felt the Scot’s precise fingers unbuttoning his own shirt as they continued to lock lips. When they were both mostly undressed and panting heavily they stopped for a moment. Sniper leaned over to the side of the mattress to root around on the shelf until he found the little bottle he was looking for. When he turned back Demo was looking a bit nervous again, so Sniper pulled him down and gave him another long deep kiss. It seemed to bolster the Scot’s spirits and he pushed Sniper back onto the bed. Sniper was a little surprised. Usually Demo took a more passive role, but he wasn’t complaining. He watched the other man above him, straddling him and grabbing the bottle from Sniper’s hand. He opened it and poured an amount into his palm, then tossed it aside. The next thing Sniper felt was the Demo’s calloused, dark hand around his cock, spreading the fluid around. The Australian moaned and sat up on his elbows a bit to watch the dark skin enclosed around his own paler arousal. Demo was watching him as well, his eye half closed in lust. Sniper nodded, as if he needed to give permission for Demo to do this. The Scot nodded back and lowered himself down onto Sniper. After that the Australians mind went blank. His recollection of the rest of the evening was painted in broad strokes of sound: needy low moaning and hushed panting, taste: the salt of sweat and the hint of toothpaste, and the steady building of pleasure so intense he thought he might go insane. ---------------------------------- In the morning Demoman was gone, that much hadn’t changed. Maybe the Scot had actually remembered what had happened that night since he was somewhat sober. Whether it was a good or bad thing Sniper figured he would find out soon. As he groggily felt around for his glasses he wondered if he had made any real difference. At breakfast Demo pointedly avoided his gaze, even though Sniper sat across from him while they ate their powdered eggs. Bit rude, he thought, asking a bloke to kiss you and then ignoring him like that. As the ten minute warning sounded throughout the base and everyone rushed to get to their equipment, Sniper thought that maybe it was time to take things into his own hands and pay Demoman a visit instead tonight. After all, he couldn’t cure the Scot’s hangups in just one night of amazing sex.
Thanks.