1 . Name: Anonymous @ 2012-01-13 20:48

After lurking around for almost two months, I've finally gained the confidence to post here. I'll admit I've never written anything close to smut before so this is kind of new to me. I'm also painfully aware that the characters aren't completely themselves. It's all for the story itself, I assure you. May I also thank a special friend of mine for inspiring me to write this... whatever it is. All I know is that it's not supposed to be taken seriously.

I'm sure there are some unseen mistakes since I made this early in the morning. Constructive criticism would be most welcome!

Also, if I wasn't sure if I was supposed to list an actual name for myself since I'm new and all. Tell me and I'll change it.




---

“We can’t go on like this.” Demoman draped his arm over the recliner. “It’s just too risky.”

“BUT I LOVE YOU LIKE I LOVE PUNCHING COMMUNIST BABIES.” Soldier-fag roared with passion. The mentally unstable asswipe collapsed on his knees like a total woman.

Demowhore was all shocked and shit. He turned around with a really cool slow SWOOSH effect like in the movies. The sad sight of Soldier being a total puss made Demo cry like he was a puss too except he was all manly and not all girly like Soldier cuz that fag’s all estrogen-ie or something.

Soldier stared up at Sergeant Dickbutt from under that stupid helmet and began crying really hard. Like… REALLY hard. So hard that it would put Spy’s gay dick to shame. They were all pretty gay and shit. That Scout though, he was so frickin’ awesome and totally buff and shit. He beat Saxton Hale in arm wrestling and then told the Administrator to suck his dick and she totally did let me tell ya. Jeez that Scout guy was even manlier than his gay-ass counterpart. His talentless rival wore make-up and touched butts of all kinds-

“SCOUT!” A boisterous voice boomed from outside the terror-stricken boy’s door. “Get your hairless rump outside for the bonfire! PRONTO!” After the two long, rushed knocks erupted from the other side of the room, hurried yet heavy footsteps faded away as the man marched off.

Scout had been clutching at his chest in his best attempt to calm himself down, his other hand clamped to his seat. The pencil and paper that was in his grasp flew askew into the unknown that was his bedroom. “…Damnit.”

Though the Scout really wanted to finish his revenge story about his dear teammates, Scout knew that bonfire night was an uncommon occasion and should be attended without question. It was the only night where they could LEGALLY have a beer and relax as a group; A dysfunctional group. Well, to be blunt, a dysfunctional family.

Scout eagerly grabbed up his cap and positioned it on his head before turning off the lights and heading outside. From the BLU base merely a mile away was the team’s sacred bonfire. It was purposely set up behind the foundation and away from the battlefield so it didn’t get destroyed when the time came to fight the notorious REDs. This was not the time to think of the enemy, however, for this was what Scout had been waiting for all week. As the mischievous BLU jogged towards the bonfire, he saw that all of his teammates were there already. He noticed Pyro and Heavy roasting marshmallows, Engineer cooking a hotdog over the fire, and the rest either drinking or smoking. A few mercenaries recognized the boy as he approached the campfire. “’Ey fellas! ‘Miss me?” Scout chirped smugly as he took a seat between Medic and Sniper.

“Oh gutt. I vas looking for you earlier Scout.” Medic stated as everyone else either rolled their eyes or grumbled. “I am hoping you’ll be meeting me in my office after-“
“OH HEY YOU GUYS!” Scout leaped from his seat in false excitement as he cut off the doctor. The Medic simply stared up at the boy with a stare like daggers. Scout didn’t like where the conversation was going and would rather make a fool of himself than get a checkup from Medic. He continued with his distraction. “Uh, how about some ghost stories?” The runner finished rather sheepishly.

A scoff arose from the group. “Oh, please.” Everyone turned to Spy. “Are you really suggesting we should participate in such a childish activity?” The Frenchman took an apathetic drag from his cigarette. Scout wrinkled his nose at the frog. They hadn’t been getting along very well since the incident with his mom and the enemy Spy.

The Engineer removed his wiener from the campfire and poked at it with his ungloved hand as he contorted his face in deep thought. “Well, actually…” He cautiously proclaimed. “That’s not such uh bad idea.”

Scout’s expression beamed from his small victory over the Spy. Not to mention his success in avoiding the doctor. As the young adult settled back into his seat, he realized that the thought of just listening to ghost stories was a really kickass idea in itself. Engineer rubbed his knuckles against his stubble as he tried to think of a good story. Scout couldn’t help but keep smirking as he saw an annoyed Spy from the corner of his eye.
“OI! Lemme ‘ave a go at it, lads.” Demoman was getting tipsy, but thankfully for his team he wasn’t completely wasted. “I have a good wun from me days. True storeh too.” The alcoholic Scotsman wiped his mouth crudely before setting his bottle of scrumpy down. Engineer forgot all about his turn and instead started putting his hotdog in a bun.

Scout leaned forward in his seat, his buddy Pyro doing the same. Demoman started using his hands as dramatic theatrics so to increase the storytelling mood. “Aye, i’twas a dark night like t’night. A pal o’ mine an’ me went inta the field o’ corn outside this ol’ bloke’s house. Now i’twas bloody cold out, mind ye, and we were out lookin’ fer me friend’s dog. Now me friend an’ I were sittin’ ducks in that there field. We were getting’ damn well hungry from a day’s worth’a traveling. Then it happened.” Scout noticed a sudden twitch from his team’s Sniper, a look of pure skepticism. The story remained undisturbed though.

After Scout saw a few of Sniper’s reactions to Demoman’s story, he realized that the bushman was getting more and more agitated as it progressed. Apparently Spy had also noticed this as well and acknowledged it with a sneer. The black Cyclops hadn’t taken note of it though, and so his story continued. “From the bleedin’ sky came the brightest lights ye ever saw. A flyin’ saucer, boyos. Now me boy an’ I didn’t know what to do. We just stood aroun’ an’ gawked at the thing. This weird unidentified flyin’ object hovered right ova us. Now we were jus’ hammered at the time-“A snicker sounded from the group. “an’ wasn’t really thinkin’ ‘bout how serious the situation really was. So me friend grabbed up a big stone from’the ground an’ chucked it with all his might towards the thing.”

At this point in the story, a few BLUs were on the edge at their seats while the rest were either listening intently or just plain out uninterested. Demoman was on the verge of finishing up his story as he too leaned forward in his folding chair. “’Musta angered the blasted thing ‘cause the next thing we know a huge ray of light beams down from the sky an’ abducts me ol’ friend in mere seconds! I neva saw ‘im again or his little mutt. ‘Kinda wonder if he’s still alive or just another victim to that anal prob-“

“ALROIGHT, ENOUGH.” Sniper blurted out loud, startling almost everyone around the bonfire. Demoman was the most surprised out of the bunch seeing such a patient man just burst out like that. The huntsman stayed in his seat as he glowered at the demolitions expert. “You told us you were gonna be tellin’ us a true story. Well I say that’s furphy.” He crossed his arms as he waited for a response.

Demoman’s expression went from shock to outrage. “O’ course me story’s true! How ye explain me missin’ friend?” The two men received blank but intrigued stares from their fellow teammates as they carried on.

“Well that’s easy to answer. There was neva a mate to begin with. Ya made him up to make yer story more interestin’.“ Sniper frowned as Demoman’s expression darkened. “Look mate, if ya wanted to tell us a fake story then go on ahead. Just don’t make up rubbish and then say it’s true.”

“Ai hope ya git yer share o’ alien abduction then. Won’t be so high an’ mighty then when yer part of a bleedin’ alien experiment.” Demoman replied with a rasp in his voice before picking his booze back up from the dirt and chugging it down like no tomorrow. A silent chuckle. The Scotsman belched and glared around the fire to see who dared to laugh at him. However he couldn’t pinpoint who it was so he went back to gorging himself on alcohol.

The campfire quieted down after the bushman grunted in response to Demoman and his incredulous beliefs. Engineer had planned on finally taking his turn and telling a ghost story of his own after finishing his hotdog, but after the awkward argument just then he decided to just sit still and stare at the fire uncomfortably like the rest of them.

It was Spy who spoke up with much interest before the moment of silence became unbearable. His expression was devilish, as usual when the man came up with wicked thoughts. Merely two allies away from Sniper, the Spy leaned towards his comrade with a fraudulent smile. “Monsieur Sniper, I ‘ope you would not mind me asking but… why so serious? So what eef zhe Demoman iz lying or not? Why are you so bothered?” The impish tone in his voice was not hard to notice. Everyone knew when the Spy was trying to purposely bother them. Well, sometimes they knew. Sometimes.
“If ya must know, ya damn spook.” Sniper seethed. “When I was an anklebiter me mum and I went to this wonky store where they promoted aliens and Bigfoot and such. When we went inside there was this old loon that offered to show me to the laser blasters or something like that. Me mum let me go as she went off to look around. Aw the man seemed real noice at first. Kinda reminds me of you, Spoi, now that I think of it.”

Spy visibly frowned before the Australian continued. “So he showed me to the back, no harm done. Well that is until that sick drongo took out some kinda device and came at me with it. It was one of those alien probes Demoman went on about. Screamed and ran I did. Lucky me mum was there to save me from the sick wanker. Scarred me for life is what it did. From that day on I never liked the idea of bloody aliens or other mumbo jumbo like that. ‘Specially alien shit. Last thing I need is a drunken yarra spewin’ lies about aliens abductin’ blokes.” Finishing his statement, the Australian thumbed his nose grumpily.

The campfire had been dying down as Demoman spoke of his escapades. Pyro wilted like a flower in disappointment at the sight of it, the firebug quickly picking up the stick used to cook Engineer’s wiener and poking the fire with it to liven it up. The arsonist’s attempt was in vain however, for the flames barely climbed no higher than half an inch. Finally taking notice of Pyro’s antics, Soldier gruffly got up from his seat and smashed what was left of the campfire with his combat boots. Medic shot a flabbergasted glare at the headstrong gentleman, wondering if the man had any sense at all in that inferior noggin of his. After all, he could have been easily set aflame. However, Medic knew deep down that he wouldn’t have minded if he had witnessed that series of events.

“All right you ninnies. This little hand holding get together is over; Time to head back to the base.” The Soldier ordered rather than suggested. Everyone rolled their eyes or mumbled to themselves as they got up and left for BLU. All except for Pyro, however, who stayed just a few moments more. The enigma wrapped in retardant latex bent down next to the cinders and debris. Silently the Pyro just sat there, almost as if mourning over a lost friend, and then rose to his feet. Pyro had been excited for the bonfire all week. Not for his teammates, feeling of companionship or the taste of a fire roasted treat though. All Pyro wanted was to see how the flames flickered and danced in the night, causing shadows to cast over the dusty earth. All that was up and gone now and Pyro figured he should probably be heading off before Soldier lost his cool again.

---

It’d be lovely if Sniper could just get his cup of coffee and then head back to his room to seclude himself for the rest of the night, but of course that would have been way too uncomplicated. As soon as the bushman entered the kitchen he spotted the Spy just about to leave with his cup of tea. Bad timing on Sniper’s part it was. The agent raised his eyebrows with fake enthusiasm as Sniper bitterly retrieved his most prized mug from the cupboard above the sink. It was customized specifically for him and read ‘# 1 Sniper’ in blue font. It was a gift he received from his mom before he left to become a mercenary for BLU. Right now he wasn’t in the mood to deal with Spy and his stupid French games. “So zhen, jar man.” Spy began with a perky tone, twirling the spoon he had yet to remove from his hot beverage. Sniper stiffened, slowly moving over towards the coffee maker, tightening his grip on his most beloved cup.

“I ‘ad no idea you ‘ad such a dark and troubled past! Eef I knew any better, I would say you didn’t quite give us zhe whole story.” The masked man’s eyes were half lidded, a subtle smirk threatening to show. Sniper knew that the best thing to do at this point was remain quiet and just get his damn decaf so he could go back into his room in peace. The Australian poured the incredibly hot liquid into his cup, the roasty smell wafting through his nostrils.

“I am convinced zhe ‘sick drongo’ in your story was actually your father.”
The sound of rattling glass and sizzling suddenly emitted from Sniper’s being. It only lasted half a second, however, before Spy soon found himself pinned by the throat against the very wall behind him. A mixture of scolding hot tea and coffee decorated both him and the bushman. It was painful enough to make the Spy seethe in pain as the boiling substance made his skin scream even with his suit covering most of his body. Sniper, being covered in most of it, didn’t care if he was developing second degree burns. All he cared about was strangling the nosy Frenchman before him.

The Spy could feel his windpipe slowly becoming closed off as the Sniper tightened his hold on him, that all too recognizable look of murderous intent written all over his face. The masked man used the last of his oxygen to mutter only a few barely audible syllables. “Eet’s… true… Isn’t eet?” At this point Spy was turning the same shade as his suit.

With a snarl of anger, Sniper somehow managed to increase his grip, but only for a moment, for the Spy was right. Having being figured out, Sniper gradually released the Spy and turned for his cup dejectedly. The agent in blue collapsed to the cement choking as he tried to regain his composure. He was sputtering so badly he couldn’t even tell the Sniper to explain himself as the Australian grabbed up his precious mug and glumly exited the kitchen. He didn’t get his coffee, but he did get some fresh visible burns that will remind him of this night. He might as well retire for the evening and just get his coffee tomorrow.

---

As always in the morning the kitchen was bustling with activity. Breakfast was being prepared, Heavy being the chef of the day. Though many of the mercenaries took turns cooking amongst themselves, they all had to agree that some just cooked better than others. In this case, Heavy’s cooking was satisfactory but not exactly top chef cuisine. Everyone got through each morning though, grateful they were even being fed if anything at all. Sniper was already in the kitchen, eagerly wanting some of his decaf coffee that he had been craving for since last night. Not thirty minutes from now, not thirty seconds from now, but now. Hell, even now was too late. Groggily the huntsman filled his custom mug with the beverage. It wasn’t boiling hot but it wasn’t cold and bitter either. Sniper really didn’t care at that point so he gulped it down in one go. The Scout and busied Heavy took notice of Sniper’s worn out appearance and gave each other knowing glances.

“Is leetle man okay?” Heavy examined the rugged man’s face and saw him almost immediately react to the substance he just downed. Sniper felt much better, though his eyesight was getting a little hazy. Heavy and Scout exchanged dumbfounded looks but then went about their own business. Of course as the bushman turned to put his mug away, he spotted the Devil himself making an entrance into the kitchen. Nobody paid much mind except Sniper of course, who gave the groomed snake a piercing glare. Spy nonchalantly shrugged at this, however, and took a seat in the same chair he sat in last night. Suddenly Sniper’s insides clenched, realizing the dastardly Frenchman could reveal the actual truth about his story to the team.

Now more alert of his surroundings than he was before, Sniper gestured the Spy to go outside of the room with him with the simple lift of the head. The Spy had been eyeing the ruffian and already knew what their removal from the room was all about. They went unnoticed as they trotted silently into the hallway. Instantly the presence of Spy was unnerving and Sniper just didn’t know what he was going to say. Luckily, he didn’t have to say anything. Spy’s lips were already moving by the time he settled against the wall. “I ‘ope you know zhat under zhis suit lingers zhose burns you caused.” The tone was more matter- of-fact than livid or upset. Sniper thought strange of this at first, but then realized he needed to straighten Spy out. He was starting to get nauseated all of a sudden but ignored it, figuring it was just the coffee he gulped down not too long ago.
“Oi, lemme tell ya what mate. I got worse burns than you did so don’t ya start with me. You deserved it anyways.” The Spy’s cocky expression fell. Sniper knew he was right. He subconsciously rubbed at the burns on his arms. His team had thought nothing of it, figuring his marks were from a Pyro attack. Besides, why would they bother each other about scars or burns anyways? They were at war.

“Now listen here, I don’t want anyone knowing ‘bout my dad. I’m fuckin’ serious, Spy... If I find out… you…” Sniper’s knees started to buckle from underneath him, his mind becoming more and more clouded. He tried to say something, anything really, but he simply couldn’t do it as the world blurred around him. It was almost like he was drunk. It was getting to the point where Sniper was barely conscious, his body refusing to meet any of his demands at this point. There was a nasally noise that came from above him, but he couldn’t be too sure when the world swallowed him whole into nothingness.

---

At first the Australian thought he was dead, the brightest of any light taking up most of his blurry vision. The light began to dim however and it was then Sniper went into full panic mode. His arms and legs were strapped down onto a table. Almost seemed like something Medic had in his clinic. The huntsman realized he was also lacking clothes. The only thing keeping him from being nude was his koala boxers. The man was proud of them, but not particularly at this moment. Sniper’s senses were finally coming back to him, panic rising in his chest. The man fought against his restraints, only stopping until he realized where he was.
The sound of beeping equipment bounced off the machine covered walls as Sniper took a moment of his time to take in what he could of this strange place. Colorful buttons covering the odd machines, glowing and blinking. “Oh my Lord…” Was all Sniper could muster, expression held tight with fear as his eyes darted around the room. There were no windows or even doors from what he could see. It was almost like someone had built a room around him.

Suddenly the noise of a shifting metallic door came from out of his field of vision. So there was a door. It was then the sound of something heavy was making its way towards the outdoorsman. Hysteria returned to the restrained Sniper. All he could think was to get out, survive, and run away. RUN. However it was no use. The mysterious bonds that held him couldn’t be loosened or broken. All the man could do was just struggle as the approaching silhouette appeared in his peripheral vision.
The first thing Sniper could hear was the most bizarre, static-like voice he had ever heard. It wasn’t speaking English, or any language that he could recognize for that matter. It was then the creature showed itself. Sniper had not prepared himself for this. He wasn’t even aware he was supposed to. Standing over the Australian was a gray skinned humanoid-like creature. It had some sort of metal filter around its mouth, almost reminding Sniper of Pyro’s mask. It had no hair, ears, or nose. It was also dressed in the craziest get-up; A purple skin-tight top with queer hoop things around his hands and shoulders. The stranger’s eyes glowed yellow and had the most suspicious display of fascination on its face. Sniper didn’t know what to make of what he saw. He didn’t want to. He refused to. Tightly, the bushman in denial closed his eyes, muttering comforting nothings to himself as the creature spent its good old time examining his body.

Sniper continued to lie there mumbling quick little pointless things to himself as the bizarre individual gradually slithered its way past the table. Past his hurried whispers Sniper could hear the slinking of something familiar. Like a snake. His eyes popped wide open and he tried to bolt upright from his bed of terror, the restraints that held him only tightening as he settled back down with rapid breathes of desperation. The human-like body peering over him noticed the man’s violent response to the bonds and, to what Sniper could only guess, chuckled as it expertly and swiftly removed the bushman’s undergarments with a quick tug of the elastic.
“WOT IN THE BLOODY-“ The creature shushed Sniper by using its gloved, four-fingered hand. The Australian kept screaming through the gray creature’s appendage though. Here he was exposed to some sort of crazy genetic mutation, at a loss of what’s going on while completely giving up on his professional outlook. Where did he go so wrong? What had he even been doing before he got in this mess anyhow?

Sniper’s thoughts were interrupted when the odd figure took out this strange familiar looking device, save for the strange glowing that came from it. It only took the man a moment to understand his situation. The fear and shock that once shook him to his core was nothing compared to what he felt now as he thrashed and hollered in his bonds. He cursed and screamed and was actually beginning to tear up a little bit as the alien before him seemed to have snickered in that terrible voice of its. That’s right. To Sniper’s distress the queer creature before him was an alien. And what was in its possession…
“No…” Sniper muffled through the gray alien’s fingers. Slowly the humanoid nodded and proceeded with shoving the glowing contraption into his anus with a professional air. Sniper didn’t know what was going on until it happened. Dreadful memories of the past flooded his thoughts as the metal device was shoved deeper into him. His dad’s heinous smile. Sniper cowering in the corner of the nearly abandoned store. Him pleading for his mother knowing full well that she was in the car outside. His father coming at him with raw fervor. The toy probe being shoved into his face before…

Tears streamed down the Australian’s face from both the pain and the reminiscence of his childhood. The bonds no longer straining as Sniper lied there sobbing. He was still dazed and confused, still having no recollection of any previous engagements or anything. The only thing he wanted was death at this point. All he knew right now was fear and pain and he wanted- no, needed it to stop. The alien hesitated a moment, realizing the man it was probing was crying like a little boy who just saw the boogey man. Suddenly it took hold of the probe, which was over halfway inside Sniper, and removed it from the bushman’s anal cavity. Sniper had not expected this and dared to look down towards the creature while holding back sobs.

The alien removed the nozzle from its mouth and pressed a button somewhere behind its head. “I shall spare you and your pathetic planet if you do me a favor.” The voice was high pitched and yet guttural. It was unlike any accent Sniper had ever heard. The tears ceased and his cheeks were stained, including his neck. The alien who had been probing him, inserting some sort of foreign device into his rectum, had spared him and was now proposing to make a deal? Sniper couldn’t help but gape at it, especially since it was still holding that terrible device in its hand-like appendages. “Well, Earthling?”

Sniper cleared his throat and managed to calm himself down before experiencing an utter loss of control. “Uhm, sure…” He was uncertain of what the outsider wanted, but it had to have been better than having weird alien technology in your ass. It then dawned on him. This situation in itself wasn’t supposed to be happening. Aliens didn’t exist. Anal probes aren’t real. This isn’t real… Is it?

“I am glad you accept my terms.” The alien smiled mildly. “Now, about that favor…”

Sniper watched the Alien’s expression intensely, doing his best to prepare himself yet again.

“I propose we make a peace offering by performing oral amends.”
The room fell silent. Only the sound of the beeping machines around them. “W-wot?” Sniper shivered from under his restraints.
“What is it you humans call it? Simply ‘oral’, correct?” The alien was speaking as though the act was like an innocent arrangement.

Sniper was beside himself with two unrealistic choices. He liked neither of them and he knew that either way his dignity, or what he had left of it, would be completely ripped away from him no matter the decision or action he decided to make. If anything he’d rather give an extraterrestrial head than know his refusal would cause the destruction of the Earth. Including himself. He never thought it would happen, but someone actually managed to break his spirit after so many years since the incident with his father. And because of that a small part of Sniper was actually impressed with the alien.

A smirk plastered itself across the alien’s face as it put the anal probe down and began undoing the straps that bound Sniper’s ankles. The two were silent as the creature moved up to the bushman’s wrists. When the creature finished unbinding him, Sniper sat up from the metal bed, still naked, and met the alien’s consuming eyes. “So uh…” Sniper scratched the back of his head nervously. “If we’re gonna be doin’ this… Do ya even have a name?”

This took the alien aback. Sniper raised a brow at its hesitation. Was it not customary for the thing’s race to tell other races their names or something? It was all that crossed the Australian man’s mind before the alien responded. “Zhiim. However I see not how that concerns-“

“I’m sorry it’s just…” Sniper interrupted apprehensively, stopping himself to think before speaking again. “I thought it’d be better to know.”

Zhiim nodded in neutral understanding. “I’ll be getting prepared for our arrangements. Kindly wait here for my return.” It wasn’t like Sniper had a choice. He frowned as the thought dawned on him. Then he noticed ‘it’ with eyes bigger than saucers. The lower half of Zhiim’s body, which was impossible to see when strapped down, was basically the body of a snake except with purple markings instead of normal brown or black ones. Sniper’s situation kept getting worse and worse, his stomach beginning to turn just as the alien left the room. It took a minute of vivid thinking before the Australian lurched forward from the metal table and emptied whatever contents were in his stomach. He couldn’t go through with this. There is absolutely no way. He’ll just have to turn Zhiim’s offer down when he returns. Who cares if the planet’s gone? It’s a dreadful place anyways. Then an image of his dear old mom flashed in his mind. That’s right. There’s no way he could let his sweet mother get vaporized just because her son didn’t suck off a purple reptilian alien. He had to man up and overcome this obstacle like the many others he had encountered before.

“Whenever you are ready, Specimen 008.”

Sniper wheeled around to gaze at his upcoming trial. He had that terrible feeling to vomit again, but all he could manage was a dry heave as Zhiim slithered alluringly towards him. The alien was shirtless and was astonishingly lean. The odd looking respirator that was around his mouth was gone, revealing his monstrous teeth. “Ooooh crikey…” Sniper sucked in a large quantity of air and then released.

“Second thoughts?” The alien calmly asked with folded arms.
No way was the bushman going to say yes, though everything in his mind shrieked otherwise. “Uhm.” Sniper had to turn away from the creature to answer. “Nah.” He then forced himself to stare at his dangling feet. Sniper might as well get this over with. He couldn’t imagine what he would do though. He killed snakes of all sorts in the outback but he didn’t know how to please one. A final sigh escaped his lips as he begrudgingly looked up at Zhiim.

A simple smile. “Let’s get started then, shall we?”

---

“I uh… didn’t think we’d go that far.” Sniper stated with an unreadable face. Everything felt filthy. His skin, mouth, hair. The man felt like he couldn’t move or else the filth he was covered in would spread across the sheets of Zhiim’s rather peculiar bed. The Australian honestly couldn’t remember for the life of him how or when he got into the bed he was currently in, but all he knew was that everything about it was silky and, as of now, sticky. He could vividly remember what happened. Oh, he remembered. The white dribble of a recognizable substance on his chin would have helped him had he forgotten. The huntsman unconsciously wiped it away with the back of his hand and then set it shakily on his chest. All Sniper could do was stare at the ceiling and think of the deeds he had just done.

Zhiim was not in the room at the moment so Sniper decided to take the time he had to soak up all of which just happened. His attention never broke off from the gray top of the room. “Alrioght. Ya just gave an alien a blowjob and let him have his way with ya. Why would ya let him do that to ya, mate? Ya couldn’t have liked it so much ya thought you’d go any further than…” Realization. Sniper slowly rose from the bed, the pink sheets being his only way of hiding his limp and ashamed penis.

Whether Sniper wanted to admit it or not, the only reason he let Zhiim have his way with him was because he actually enjoyed it. Now thinking back, Sniper had been the one suggesting they do it. The man’s face contorted in horror. Not only was he a poofter, but a poofter that had sex with alien poofters. During his little peace making session with Zhiim, Sniper had discovered the alien almost had the same exact anatomy as male humans. This of course confused the outdoorsman but figured that he shouldn’t question the already questionable. And so Sniper sat there half naked in the rather girly bed for over half an hour, replaying the events that occurred over and over again in his head. He also thought about how much he actually enjoyed it and wanted more of it. That thought made the Sniper sick again, his intestines tying themselves up in knots. What would he tell his poor mother? His first time was with a gay extraterrestrial and he liked it? That would be the last thing the bushman would ever say to his mom when on the phone with her. He’d never be able to speak to her with confidence ever again. All Sniper could manage was bury his face into his hands and keep wallowing in the disorientation that was his life.

“Ah, Specimen 008. I thought you’d wake up around this time.” Zhiim came into the room from the metallic door Sniper didn’t notice was beside him, his scaly bottom half slinking into the room soundlessly. Though the man had been sitting there for some time, he was too engaged in his thoughts to really regard anything. The alien took notice of Sniper’s detachment, his entire being still free of any source of clothing, and approached the bed. The Australian didn’t budge or flinch when Zhiim sat next to him with an acute stare piercing into the back of his head. “You seem to be a little tense from making amends between the Earth and my planet.” The creature finished with a toothy grin. The human replied with a miserable groan.

Zhiim then hummed to himself, coming up with an idea, and reached behind himself to the retrieve something off from the unnoticed end table beside the bed. Sniper, still unmoving, could still smell the fluids they exchanged. He was getting ready to get ill once more. He knew he couldn’t do that again and especially on Zhiim’s mattress. Trying to control his insides, Sniper tentatively tucked his head in between his knees, knowing that the act was supposed to keep you from getting sick. Zhiim returned to Sniper with something shiny in his hand and tilted his head in amusement, realizing the human had shifted positions.

“Excuse me, Earthling.” Zhiim offered the metallic object to the Sniper by holding it in front of his face and opening it. “But I do believe the people from your planet use these to relieve themselves of stress, affirmative?”
Sniper, finding some amount of inner calm, trembled slightly as he stared up at the item held in front of him. Abstractedly Sniper reached for a cigarette, thinking it’d be best to just use the power of nicotine to ease his nerves. Now Sniper had been pretty oblivious to the things around him since this nightmare had started, but something clicked when he took a good look at the case Zhiim was holding. The rugged individual squinted, as if having a hard time seeing, and then snatched the metal cigarette holder from the alien’s grasp. Zhiim hitched his breath.

“Where’d you get this case?” Sniper inquired in a low tone, his every sense coming back to life as he began to further scrutinize the object in his hands.
Zhiim blinked. “I found it on your planet, of course.”

“No.”

The alien stiffened.

Sniper snapped the cigarette case closed and peered suspiciously over at Zhiim who seemed to act more and more uneasy as the bushman pressed on, the snake tail he bore noticeably ceasing its squirming movement. “This isn’t just any old case.” Sniper glared at the creature with a large amount of disdain. “I know only one bloke who owns something as fancy such as this.”

Zhiim’s waning confidence suddenly turned presumptuous, his eyes suddenly reflecting a familiar other Sniper knew of. “Oh really, Monsieur? I couldn’t imagine who it could belong to other than this ever so handsome gentleman I’ve abducted once.”

There was no movement, no sound, and no breathing, only a wordless exchange of glances.

At least for a moment or two.

“YOU BLEEDIN’ POOFTAH SPOI! I’M GONNA FUCKIN’ KILL YOU!” Sniper practically launched himself at Zhiim, whose image began to slowly turn into static and flickered, revealing the BLU Spy from under the uncanny mirage. Apparently, Spy was also without clothes, but the huntsman did not give a single fuck at the moment for he was too busy barreling himself into the Frenchman. Sniper, still naked, grabbed the mask through Spy’s disguise and used it to continually bash the agent’s face into the headboard. His eyes were once again those of a murderer as he used his infinite rage to remove the Spy’s ruined face from the wooden structure and then beat the hell out of him using his bare fists. “BLOODY. WANKER. FUCKIN’. SICK. PSYCHO.” Sniper spat insults at the man with every punch landed on his body. Eventually the disguise Spy wore of the strange alien Zhiim completely disappeared as a loud static sound was heard in the midst of the huntsman’s assaults.

Spy didn’t scream or yell or beg or even cry as the Australian unleashed all his fury upon him. Through the entire beating, Sniper discerned that the Spy was actually smiling. Smiling? Sniper’s rapid punches ceased, watching now as Spy actually relished in his own bruises and blood. Slowly the Sniper inched away from the crazed man. He was clearly troubled. “Y-You actually like that?” The bushman asked in disgust. He caught himself though and already knew the answer. “On second thought, forget it.” He never thought of Spy as a masochist. Hell, he never thought of the man to be a crazed sex assailant either.

Spy’s face was beaten and raw, his body sharing the same amount of damage if not more. Through all the pain and agony though, the Spy smirked. “I am not allowed to ‘ave my fun?” He asked almost innocently. Like hell he was innocent.

“I’m only gonna stop wailin’ on ya ‘cause you’re a floggin’ weirdo…” Sniper grew silent for a moment, Spy giving the jar man the time he needed to himself as he continued to bask in his injuries. With a grunt and slow deep breaths, Sniper managed to look at Spy without tackling him. “I want answers. Explain. Now.” Spy had seen Sniper when he got dangerous, especially when he got under the bushman’s skin. But the aura emitting from this man was just that of pure wrath. Spy was getting the feeling that he perhaps went a little too far. Just a bit.

“I am guessing you want zhe whole story, non?” The Frenchman smiled as he reached into his silver case and lit up one of his special brand of cigarettes. As a large welt began to form around his chin, Spy inhaled the cancer stick and then beamed dreamily towards Sniper, sensing the Australian’s bitter spite grow inside of him like cancer. “Well, I guess I should inform you zhat I slipped Rohypnol into your coffee yesterday morning. ‘Ere’s a hint. Zhe dosage was not small.”

Sniper gripped at the sheets below him. He had to refrain from hurting Spy. It caused more good than harm and he didn’t want any form of good to come to this man. Anything but. “So that’s why I had those strange side effects…”

“Oh yes, and you displayed one particular aftereffect very well: Passing out.” Spy sneered from behind the cloud of smoke he created. “Let me tell you what, mon ami, eet was hard dragging your body out of zhe base undetected. I managed though.” The man spoke almost like giving someone the ‘date rape’ pill was completely acceptable.

“You demented-“

“Ah, ah, ah.” Spy tutted with the wave of his cigarette. “I am not finished explaining myself.”

Sniper settled down but gripped at his knees. He took a moment to take a look at the both of them and couldn’t help but notice how they were both naked on an incredibly seductive looking bed, smoking and conversing like… He almost lost his cool. No, he must keep himself in check. He mustn’t appease the enemy, even if Spy was a teammate. Or at least he was supposed to be.

“Now zhen, zhe idea for zhe alien? Scout’s lovely pile of comic books of course! I actually mixed a bunch of random species together and got what you know as ‘Zhiim’. Hahaha! You almost got me when you asked for my name, cher. I had to think quick on my feet! Or rather, on my scales!” The Frenchman snorted loudly. “Oh, and our good friend Demoman gave me zhe idea to probe you. You see eet was ‘is comment at zhe bonfire zhat truly inspired me.”

“WOULD YA JUST GET ON WITH IT SO I CAN KILL YA AN’ GIT THIS OVER WITH?!” Sniper snapped savagely. A glint of anticipation shone in Spy’s eyes. At this point, Sniper was positive the Frenchman had problems. He also knew he wouldn’t have his way if he let his anger get the best of him. It was agonizing for the Australian to sit through all the bullshit, but it had to be done. “Just… what was it ya stuck in me? Couldn’t have been a real probe… roight?”

“Do you really want to know, Monsieur?” Sniper didn’t answer, he just scowled harder. Spy shrugged. “Eet was a flashlight.”

“…Wot?”

“I shoved a flashlight up your ass.” Spy stared at his cigarette indifferently as he twirled it in his fingers. “Eet’s not a difficult concept, I assure you.”

Sniper had to register that for a second, Spy being kind enough to let that bit of information soak in. “W-why?”

“Couldn’t find anything better zhan zhat. Apologies eef you were anticipating for something spectacular.”

“Well, wait a minute... Where are we? Where have we been this whole time? WOT IS ALL THIS?” Sniper panicked slightly as he waved his arms about. Not knowing where he was made the rugged man feel unsettled and insecure. Then again, he’d been unsettled and insecure since he was brought there. It was getting harder and harder to remain sane and the Australian doubted he’d be the same after all this was over.

“Zhat’s simple.” Spy rolled his eyes. “A movie studio.”

Sniper’s face fell. “W-we weren’t being recorded…” The outdoorsman could feel himself reach hysteria, his expression mimicking that of a caged feral animal. “We weren’t, roight?” Anything but the actual proof of any of this mess. If any of this leaked out into the world… His mom. Oh bugger his mother. Her frail heart wouldn’t be able to take any of it. He’d just be like his father in her eyes.

“Oh, MERDE.” The masked man cursed to himself, almost biting down too hard on his cigarette. “I really should ‘ave.” As Sniper’s face turned into one of relief, Spy’s morphed into one of disappointment. “Ah, you come up with better ideas zhan I do. I must be rubbing off on you somehow, cher.” Sniper flinched. The bushman was becoming more and more thankful that the interrogation was almost over. He’d get his way soon enough.

“But yes, I drove your unconscious body to zhis studio. Eet ‘ad so many props and sets I could use to exploit you with I just couldn’t pass any of eet up.” Spy’s cocky smile never vanished. “You understand I’m sure.”

“Mhmm.” Sniper replied shortly. “Just tell me one last thing before I carve ya up like a pumpkin usin’only me nails.” Spy grinned as he leaned back into the headboard, the blood on his face staining his mask a darker shade of blue. “Why’d ya do all this? Wot kind of sick drongo are ya? I’m your ally and you do something as crazy as this to me.” Sniper’s temper had nearly dissolved, leaving only sincerity and a small amount of hurt in his voice. “Just be honest with me on that.”

Spy decided to play along with this turn of emotions and chose to give the pitiful bushman the truth. “You want to know, hm? Well…” Spy took out the butterfly knife hidden under the pillow Sniper’s head had been resting on earlier. The Australian flinched away, not sure what the Frenchman would do next. The secret agent gave Sniper an insidious laugh.

When the Frenchman hastily brandished the weapon, Sniper was sure he was a goner. Instead, the blade was instantly at Spy’s own throat, his smile everlasting. “Maybe I’m a sick fuck who gets kicks out of messing with people, as you claim. Or maybe…” Spy pressed the knife against his masked neck, excitement and lust visibly apparent on his face. “I’m a sick fuck who goes out of his way to show ‘is feelings for you in ways you’re just not accustom to.”

A spurt of crimson erupted from Spy’s neck, decorating Sniper’s bare flesh with the agent’s fluids. He had just witnessed Spy slit his own throat, the man’s life force ebbing away slowly. His head drooped as more and more plasma flowed from him like a waterfall, his corpse eventually falling back onto the pillow behind him. The fountain of blood stopped flowing from the Frenchman’s neck after what seemed like hours. Sniper just sat there on the bed, overwhelmed by everything he was just a part of. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to curl up into a ball and cry or just off himself like Spy did.

The Sniper eyed Spy’s knife hungrily and seized it as his own.
“Me only option as far as I can see…” Sniper had a hard time putting the knife up to his neck, but he managed as he took a deep breath and released it just the same. “I just hope I know wot I’m doin’…”

A quick flick of the wrist and a creeping river of blood dribbled from Sniper’s neck. There was no squirting of plasma, just a calm flow of pure maroon. The Australian’s naked form collapsed onto Spy’s, his head resting perfectly next to the dead man’s face. One would think they were merely sleeping. Lovers even. However the two of them, if they were still alive, knew that they were anything but that and most likely never would be.

---

Sniper hadn’t the slightest clue where his favorite mug was. “Bugger…” Shifting through the crates and mason jars in his room, the outdoorsman gave a grunt of frustration. He hadn’t the slightest clue what became of his favorite cup since the incident. It was the only thing that reminded him of the world outside where he would wrestle with crocs and hunt wild game. It’d be arduous for Sniper if he didn’t get around to finding it. He reckoned that the last place he hadn’t checked other than his teammates’ rooms was his sniping tower just outside. It didn’t hurt to look, after all.

The huntsman paced quickly towards the structure as he departed his base. His fingers became frozen as he climbed up the steel ladder, chilled from the cool night air. Pushing open the wooden latch above him, Sniper eyed the dank room cautiously before climbing up and shutting the trapdoor behind him.

It didn’t take long for the Australian to look around, for his most prized possession sat on the windowsill, a conveniently placed crate acting as a chair for when the bushman needed cover to snipe. Sniper couldn’t help but grin as he wrapped his hands around the cup and took a good hard look at it… Hold on a second. Sniper’s jaw slackened, unable to form words, let alone string together rational thoughts. Where the blue font originally read’ #1 Sniper’ was a black line crossing out nearly all traces of it out. As the former slogan’s replacement, an almost crudely written message of some sort was composed beside it with an ebony sharpie which read ‘#1 Cumguzzler’.
Removing his aviators to rub in between the bridge of his nose, the Sniper gave the longest of agitated sighs. “Good to know respawn worked out for ya, mate.” When he put his shades back on and peered inside the bottom of his vandalized mug, a rather neatly drawn black heart could be visibly seen even in the dusk of his hideout. The corner of Sniper’s mouth tugged upwards a little bit. “Ya sick fuck.”