[Author's Note: I wrote this for Alice "Banana" Stickers, and am posting to celebrate the resurgence of our wonderful chan. Praise be to the mods who are making sure I have where to put smut.]
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During a lull in the fighting, the Sniper let himself into the sickbay, where the Medic was tinkering with the Blutsauger.

"I'm sick, Doctor." The rangy Australian lay down on the stainless-steel exam table and rested his head on his hands.

"How so?" The Medic set his weapon down carefully. He had been watching the Sniper, and he knew the assassin had been watching him. There were no heated glances across the battlefield; it was more of a mutual surveillance. Wary, distant, but each of them knew where the other was, what he was doing, at all times. Now, though, the Sniper had escalated the detente.

"I don't know, Doctor. I just feel... strange. Perhaps you should take a look." There was a sly half-smile playing on the Sniper's lips. The Medic's breath hitched slightly- what was the Sniper inviting him to do? He drifted toward the exam table, hands poised.

"So vhen do you usually haf zese... strange feelings?" He dropped his hands to the Sniper's chest. When the Australian remained passive, he began to undo the other man's shirt buttons.

"Night time," the Sniper's eyes slid half-closed.

"Do zese scars hurt you?" The Medic trailed his gloved fingers down the raised white marks of old knife and bullet wounds.

"No, Doctor," the Sniper inhaled deeply,a nd rolled hi head back, exposing his throat to the Medic.

"I see." The German ran a fingertip from the Sniper's throat down the centre line of the man's body to the low-slung waistband of his pants. "I must make a complete examination." The Medic looked at the assassin, his thoughts racing. "Strip," he ordered.

The Sniper stood and shed his clothing. He didn't attempt any showy eroticism, but his native grace and languid pace had the Medic riveted. He took his shirt and vest off first, revealing a bullet wound on his back that was the twin of one of the scars on his chest. At some point in the distant past, a bullet had gone straight through this man. The Medic suppressed a shudder. A small amount of dark body hair decorated the Australian's sunburnt skin, coalescing into a trail that led from his navel to the waistband of his pants, and down. He took off his boots to show long bony toes and high arches. He made a show of modesty by turning his back to unzip his trousers. The Medic watched hungrily as the Sniper slid his pants down to reveal slim hips, a tight little ass, long slender legs... he stood still with his back to the Medic.

"Turn around," the Medic rasped. He was gratified when the Australian obeyed at once, as if he had been waiting for an order. The Medic liked the implications. "Put your arms out at ze sides, palms down." Again the Sniper obeyed, standing stock-still as the Medic walked around to inspect him.

Finally, the Medic got to see the Sniper's penis. It hung long against his thigh, surrounded by black hair. The man was uncut, but the head of his cock was pushing out of his foreskin. He was aroused.

"So, Herr Sniper," the Medic mused. "You spend all day vatching from ze high places... it must be a svitch to be under scrutiny yourself."

"Indeed it is," the Sniper gave his sly half-smile again, and his cock twitched against his thigh.

"Lie down on zer exam table, und tell me about zese strange feelings."

The Sniper lay down, his skin tightening into goosebumps as his skin touched the cold metal. "It's like... a pressure, Doctor, or heat. Starts in my belly, then slides down to me John Thomas an' up to my throat 'til it's near stranglin' me."

"Zis could be serious," the Medic grinned broadly. "I should make an exploratory surgery."

"I think you should, too," the Sniper smiled back at him. "Just one favour to ask you, mate?"

"Ja?" The Medic didn't really want to negotiate, didn't want any limits.

"I think I'll need a lot of anaesthesia. Injections, that is."

That, the Medic could work with. Grinning carnivorously, he readied a gleaming steel and glass syringe full of one of his favourite drugs, not exactly an anaesthetic. The Sniper would feel everything... but it wouldn't feel like pain. The Medic's erection was already throbbing, but he ignored it for the time being and soaked a square of gauze with fragrant medicinal alcohol. A thought struck him, and he poured a shot into each of two dram measures.

"A toast," he offered a glass to the Sniper. The rangy Australian half-sat up on the table, clinked rims with the Medic, and said "to your health."

"To yours," the Medic replied, and swallowed his drink. He buckled a leather tourniquet around the Sniper's arm, then slid the man's cooperative hands into the restraints at the sides of the exam table. He swabbed the vein in the Sniper's elbow and said, "Zis vill only hurt for a moment."

The sensation of pushing the needle into the Sniper's vein was sexually intense; injecting him with the serum, almost orgasmic. The Medic panted as he withdrew the syringe, and permitted himself to lick up the drop of blood that followed it.

"You're right, Medic, that doesn't hurt a bit." The euphoria was evident in the Sniper's voice, and his cock was now rock-hard.

The Medic took a moment to just look at what he had. The lanky, scarred Sniper was stretched out on his exam table, naked and drugged out of his mind. There were almost too many possibilities for the Medic to pick one. The Sniper moaned sensuously and tried to touch himself, but the restraints clanked on the edge of the table.

"Please, Doctor, cut me," he asked in a husky voice. How could the Medic refuse?

He worked quickly, swabbing the Sniper's abdomen with the medicinal alcohol and readying his scalpels. "How does zis feel?" He traced along the Sniper's abdomen with a scalpel, drawing a thin line of blood in lieu of plotting out his incision in ink.

"Bloody brilliant, Doc, but I still have that strange sensation."

"Understandable, I haf yet to begin zer operation." The Medic held the skin of the Sniper's belly taut with his left hand as he began the incision in earnest. In one practised motion, he sliced through skin and muscle to reveal the tough, pellucid sac of the peritoneum. He caressed it, marvelling at the firm, dark shapes of the organs underneath.

"Can you feel zat, liebe Herr?"

"Ohh, yes."

"Do you vant more?"

"I do." The Sniper's eyes were smouldering, unfocused.

The Medic opened the peritoneum carefully, making sure not to nick the intestines. Nasty things. As soon as he could, he sutured off the stomach and large intestine and lifted the whole slippery mess into a basin. He made sure to leave just about twelve inches inside the anus... just in case.

"Ugh- what've you done to me, Doc?"

"I took out your digestion. Qvite neatly, may I add. You are no longer a machine for living- you are a thing of pleasure."

"Bloody 'ell..."

"'Bloody' is correct," the Medic smiled down at the gore on his gloves and coat. "Can you feel zis?" He massaged the Sniper's anus, from the inside. The man moaned. "And is zis vhere zat strange feeling lives?" He pressed a finger down into the Sniper's inguinal canal, past his prostate and between his testicles, stroking across the ligament that anchored the Sniper's penis.

"Ah- oh, sodding- ah!" The Sniper was losing too much blood to sustain his erection, but the action of the drug was turning the torture into ecstasy. How much longer could it protect the Australian from going into shock was unclear. Blood was pooling in the empty bowl of the Sniper's abdomen.

"But you say ze feeling is like strangling, also?" The Medic grinned down at his increasingly incoherent patient. "Perhaps ze problem ist in ze lungs." He pushed his finger up through the taut muscle of the Sniper's diaphragm, pressing the sutured end of the esophagus neatly into itself. The tightness, the fluctuating pressure of the Sniper's lungs was heavenly, but the liver and the kidneys were in the way. The Medic tied off the relevant arteries and veins, then cut the obstructive organs away. They went into the basin, too, though he gave the liver a loving squeeze with his long fingers.

The Medic's hands were now shaking in earnest as he clawed at his belt and fly. The Sniper's blood was everywhere, alternately slippery and sticky. The Medic stroked himself as he climbed up onto the table to crouch on the Sniper's thighs. Penetrating his ass just seemed... pedestrian, with the man's abdomen spread open before him. Sliding further up his patient's body, the Medic caressed the diaphragm again. The taut sheet of muscle was naturally pierced by three holes- one for the fluttering aorta, one for the vena cava, still carrying blood back to the Sniper's faltering heart, and the esophageal hiatus, that until recently had connected to the Sniper's stomach.

Probing that narrow hole, the Medic could feel the lungs trying to expand as the Australian laboured to breathe. The Medic was certain his patient would breathe more easily without a gaping hole in the vacuum chamber of his thorax.

The Medic knew just how to seal that wound- when the Sniper tried to breathe out, he pressed down on the assassin's chest and slid his penis into the tight opening. It sealed the hole, allowing the Sniper his first deep breath in some time; this inflated his lungs tightly around the Medic's cock. The German groaned in pleasure, and was answered by a half-conscious groan from his victim.

The reverberation of that groan against the Medic's cock was unreal, irresistible. The Medic could cried out and pressed in more deeply. Now he could feel the throb of the Sniper's heart against the tip of his penis. He roared like an animal, thrusting wildly. The thorax had not evolved to withstand this kind of strain- the Sniper's diaphragm was tearing, his ribs cracking under the Medic's hands. The Medic's motion pushed air in and out of the Sniper's lungs, forcing the Australian to make rough, panting noises. Soon, he began to convulse, writhing underneath the doctor. In the Medic's expert opinion, the man was dying. He increased his pace as the Sniper's body stilled.

The Sniper's death rattle brought him to orgasm; he came screaming and swearing in German. He felt invincible, perfect, buried in his teammate's corpse and drenched in the man's blood. He collapsed, panting, to lick the bloody froth from the Sniper's lips. He lay atop the body until it vanished, picked up by the respawn system.

Shortly thereafter, he heard the sound of footsteps approaching the infirmary from the nearby respawn room. The Sniper opened the door, naked, clean and vigorous; a marked contrast to the bloody, exhausted, half-dressed Medic. "I take it that was good for you, then?"

The Medic hauled himself upright with a moan, barely able to tuck his clothing back together. He draped himself over the Sniper, smearing the man's former blood on his new skin. "Oh, meine liebe, meine..."

"'Ere, don't get soppy. Let's get you to the showers." The Sniper looped an arm under the Medic's waist.