Even though I'm working on another story, I though I might as well write this, since Cat thought it'd be a good idea and because the world needs more demoman porn. Enjoy!

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Everything that day seemed to have been fastidiously calculated to make Demoman miserable. The sun, at high noon, had made the day as sweltering as a bog of peat in July. And demo, trussed up in a heavy bombproof vest and thick pants, found it unbearable. Used to the harsh austerity of northern Scotland, being stuck out here in the desert, defending his team’s Oil fields and surrounded by stinking, fetid corpses was certainly not where he functioned best. He tried to keep to the shade, but at the degree of combat that had been waging all morning, he found it difficult to find anything beyond the base that was still standing. The large amounts of melanin in his skin largely protected him from sunburn, but his thick clothes and this heat made him terribly prone to fatigue, heatstroke, and brief spells of insanity he’d inherited from his grandfather. Already, he’d been to the medic twice, who’d roughly patched him back up and told him to avoid unnecessary exertion and drink lots of liquids. Well, whiskey was a liquid. So was scotch, brandy, beer, liquor, malt, vodka, rum, schnapps, ale, that fruity wine Spy sometimes drank, and the medicinal stuff Medic kept in his office. Whatever the occasion, Demoman always found everything became better with alcohol. And even though people thought of him as the mean sort of drunk, when Demoman wasn’t inebriated, he functioned as well as a six year old on the battlefield. Demo and alcohol went hand in hand, like heavy and his miniguns and Scout and rape. But today, not even his beloved drink was enough to stave off the huge discomfort of his situation. He was overheated, stressed, and overexerted. He needed something that could loosen him up, something to distract him, something that could relax him. He needed sex.
But with who? Masturbating or using an object wouldn’t cut it; he needed flesh, human flesh. He’d have preferred a lass, but unless pyro was secretly a girl, and he could sneak up on her without being singed alive, he’d have to find one of his teammates. Scout was feminine enough, but too quick to catch; Soldier was the craziest and most homophobic sonofabitch he’d ever met; and Pyro would be impossible, for aforementioned reasons. Unless the Engineer had invented some new duplicator, Demoman certainly couldn’t fuck himself, and if anything, he’d be ploughed by Heavy. Engineer himself was too unfeminine and would probably pull a sentry out if he tried anything, and Medic was just too fucking scary to try anything with. That left Sniper and Spy. And since Spy was nowhere to be found, it’d have to be Sniper, who he could easily sneak up on and probably overpower. And so, after obliterating a few enemy pyros and a scout with his sticky bombs, he snuck up through the base and made his way to Sniper’s little nest at the top, swiping a bit of chloroform and a rag from Medic’s office as he went.
Sniper worked mostly from this bunker high up in the base, as it was ideal for his line of work, which was, of course, sniping. He’d hole himself up here all day, coming out only when he was out of food or jars. And since no one usually came up here, it’d be the perfect place to seduce him. And if that didn’t work, rape him. Demoman stashed the chloroform in a pocket in his vest and opened the door to see Sniper sitting on a crate, talking on the phone.
“No, mum,” he was saying, scratching the dark hair under his akubra, “I wish I could, but I really can’t just up n’ leave, I’m on contrac…yes, o’ course you’re important to me than this bloody place, but you know that iss not that simple…you don’t have to get snappy at me!” Demoman stepped quietly into the room, using as much stealth as a large, one eyed, drunken Scotsman could. Sniper, having developed acute senses from listening for spies trying to sneak up on him, automatically heard someone enter the room and turned around, submachine gun at the ready.
“Ello, laddie,” Demoman was there, a stupid grin on his face, swaying to and forth clumsily, his usual bottle of scotch in his right hand. Sniper kept the gun pointed, knowing full well it could be a Spy, but as he lifted the bottle to his mouth and took a long, sloppy dreg from it, followed by an acrid belch, he knew it couldn’t be. Spy would never drink that stuff, disguised or not.
“Wha’ are you doin’ up here, Demo?” Sniper said. He told his mum he’d call her back and hung up the phone.
“O’, ye know,” Demoman said, stumbling further into the room. He wasn’t particularly drunk, but he pretended to be so as to not make Sniper any more wary. Sniper, for his part, was relieved that it wasn’t a Spy he was dealing with, but also confused as to Demoman’s presence, and slightly uncomfortable. They never talked that much, and when Sniper said anything to him, it usually resulted in Demoman shouting some profanities and passing out. “I jus’ came up to admire the view.” he was looking directly at Sniper when he said this. Really, even if he was a lad, he really was quite cute.
“Uhh…” Sniper really didn’t know how to respond. He felt uneasy about this all. At his silence, Demoman crossed the distance between them and put a clumsy hand on his shoulder. “Yer beautiful, lad, ye know that?” he said, putting a finger on Sniper’s chest.
“Woah, Demo, what’re ya doing?” Sniper tried to shrug him off, but Demoman was persistent. “Look, mate, you’re drunk, why don’t you-”
“Ahm always drunk,” Demoman said with a sloppy smile, “But that don’ mean ah don’t know wha’ ah want.” he pulled himself onto Sniper and looked him dead in the eyes. “An wha’ I wan’…is you.” At this, he pulled their faces together into a kiss. Sniper’s eyes widened and he began to squirm, but the Demoman was a surprisingly suave kisser. He worked his tongue gracefully, dexterously, with a proficiency his oafish body lacked. He threw his arm around the smaller man and locked them together while using the other to withdraw the chloroform, in case Sniper resisted. But Sniper didn’t resist. Why didn’t he resist? Maybe it was because Demoman was such a damn good kisser. Maybe it was because he hadn’t had any sexual pleasure from another person for months. But, for whatever reason, he let himself be seduced, and melted into the kiss. As Demo sensed this, he put down the chloroform, and began to work his way at Sniper’s pants.
“Whoa, mate,” Sniper said, pulling away. “Let’s not get carried awa-” but Demoman wasn’t taking no for an answer. He pushed Sniper down onto the floor and began ripping off his vest and shirt. “Ge’off!” Sniper yelled, struggling fruitlessly as the larger man kept him pinned down. Demoman’s shirt and vest were now totally off, his bare, muscular brown chest exposed to the dry air of the bunker, and he began to work at his pants. He worked quickly, chloroform at ready if Sniper so much as screamed, but to his surprise, he said, “Hold it! Hold it!” as the Scotsman complied, the Australian said, “You got lube, right?” Demoman smiled.
“O‘, this stuff’s better, boyo!” he grabbed his bottle of scotch and pulled down Sniper’s pants. He leveled himself onto the smaller man’s body and took the cleft of his ass. Then, he took the scotch and poured it into and around Sniper’s asshole. Sniper cringed with disgust at the sudden feel of this warm liquid. “Is that…your drink?! Oh, you sick-” but before he could finish, Demoman had stripped his pants off and entered Sniper.
“Oh-ohhhh!” Sniper moaned, surprised at how effective a lubricant the alcohol was. Even with demo’s large cock, it only hurt a little.
“Ah, scotch,” Demo said as he thrust in and out. “Wha’ would ah do without you?” then, the two men fucked, Demo thrusting in and out mightily, Sniper moaning and pushing in and out himself. Demoman stuck his finger out in front of Sniper’s face, and let him bite it lightly as he was fucked. Demoman, even though he’d never fucked a man, found it to be surprisingly pleasant. Sniper was wonderfully tight, and was enjoying it too, judging from his fast, wanton moans. And Sniper had never had such a huge cock in him. He thought it’d be painful, but it felt heavenly. Demoman sure knew how to fuck a guy. Their bodies thrashed against each other, undulating to and fro like the waves. After a few minutes, they simultaneously climaxed, Demoman letting out a huge groan and Sniper a series of smaller, successive ones. After he came, Demoman collapsed onto Sniper, nearly crushing him before he rolled off to the side. Together, the two men lay there panting, covered in sweat and looking at each other. Then, Demoman smiled, feeling genuine affection for the man next to him, and pulled Sniper close to him. He threw aside the chloroform, feeling strangely repulsed that he’d ever considered such a thing. And Sniper smiled back, snuggling his own lean and muscular body with the large and virile Demoman. This, Demo decided, was perfect way to beat the heat.