It was dark, well past cease-fire, but the Sniper was still up in a tower, eyes focused down his rifle's scope. This time, though, he was aimed at his own base. He'd taken out the cartridges- he was a professional, and it wouldn't do to pop his own teammates' skulls out of reflex. He just didn't want to be down at ground-level with that pack of mongrels. Instead, he stayed up high and... watched.

He had once watched everything, from any spot, but had realised some time ago that he could see the window of the Medic's quarters from this perch. The German had a desk by the window, and a bed on the opposite side of the room. From this vantage point, when the night was dark and the lamp was lit, the Sniper could look straight in, see the whole room. He watched everything the man did.

Just seeing the Medic's private moments was its own reward, but it had its frustrations, too. The Sniper was a patient man by nature, but the Medic seldom did anything exciting. He read, or reviewed his notes, or wrote in a leather-bound notebook, sometimes listened to music and waltzed with an invisible partner, but he never did anything he couldn't just as well have done in public. He didn't even have the good grace to change clothes slowly in front of the window like a shiela in a blue movie. Instead, he just shucked down to his shorts and boxers and went to bed. Apparently, he was only ever naked in the showers, which were in a windowless room beyond the Sniper's keen eye. If he masturbated, he either did it in the showers, or after he turned the lights out. Rubbish.

Still, the Sniper watched. Just to see the Medic when he thought no-one was watching. Tonight, the German was writing in his medical logs. Sniper knew he kept meticulous records- wounds healed, medigun charges expended, enemies hacked to death with his bone saw. Interesting man, that Medic. Looked so calm, scientific... and he'd take your arm off with a smile on his face.

The Sniper watched as the Medic put down his logbook and picked up a smaller book, bound in burgundy leather. He wrote in it every day, sometimes extensively, sometimes just a few lines. The Sniper could never see what it was he was writing. Tonight, he wrote very briefly indeed, then pushed his chair back away from his desk, the notebook still balanced on his knees. Interesting. It only got more interesting when the Medic leaned back, unbuttoning his shirt and unzipping his fly. He caressed his own chest, groping his pectorals and running his fingertips down the trail of dark hair below his navel. This, Sniper thought, this was worth watching.

The Medic began to touch himself, stroking his cock so hard and fast that Sniper wondered whether he really had missed anything with the showers out of sight. This could have been the first time the Medic had experienced pleasure in months, judging from how he was responding. He writhed and bucked in his chair- from the look of his mouth, he was moaning. Almost without warning, he came, jets of semen spurting onto the pages of the open book.

After relaxing for a moment, softening cock still in his hand, the Medic set the open book on his desk, cleaned himself off with a handkerchief and went to bed. The light in his room snapping off jerked the Sniper out of a sort of trance. His palms were sweating on his rifle, an enormous erection was making his pants tight, and he felt as if he hadn't breathed in the past five minutes. He ached for release, but... no. He was a Sniper, he was patient. He had to see what was in that book.

He didn't wait long, though, deciding to make his chance during mess the next day. He could have gone into the Medic's room during battle, but leaving his teammates without cover fire would be unprofessional. Instead, he waited until the Medic went in for a bowl of the Pyro's excellent goulash, and headed for the German's room.

The door was unlocked, not that the rinky-dink locks would have been much of an obstruction to the Australian. Moving casually, as though he had every right to be in the room, the Sniper sauntered in. The Medic's room felt strange- after looking at it through a scope for so long, walking into it felt like seeing a niniature suddenly expanded to full size. The Medic's journal was still on his desk, still open. Approaching, the Sniper saw that the pages were deckled where the semen had dried. He reached out a hand to caress the stain. And the words-

"I think the Sniper is watching me." Only that, in English, in the Medic's elaborate Gothic handwriting. The Sniper's stomach dropped at the same time his cock leapt. The German had known- all along, he had known.

"Herr Sniper," The Medic's voice snapped like a whip behind him. "I find you see fit to look at mein belongings closely now, instead of vatching me through your scope?" The tall German shut the door behind him and locked it, the sound seeming to echo in the little room.

"Yeah, mate... but I see I'm not the only one with eyeballs." The Sniper ran his fingers over the wrinkled pages again.

"Indeed, you are not." The German's tone was arrogant, aloof. "Vhat is it you vant, Herr Sniper?"

"You," the Australian rasped, lunging forward. Watching the Medic from afar was tantalising, but having him alone, close enough to hear him breathe, close enough to smell antiseptic and aftershave and manhood, was unbearable. He grabbed the Medic's shoulders and pinned him against the door, mauling the German's neck with his teeth and breathing in great draughts of his scent. "Medic, I've got to warn you, if I'm not inside you in sixty seconds, I'm going to kill you and attempt to finish up before the respawn system picks you up."

"Now, now," the Medic said, sliding off his gloves and unbuttoning his coat. "Zere is no need for zat." His open shirt revealed a flash of pale throat, and the Sniper pounced.

They wrestled on the bed, tearing clothing and biting skin, until they were wrapped around each other with their cocks down each other's throats. There was no gentleness, no subtlety, just sweat and groaning. The Sniper came first- he had been saving his pleasure for after he'd read what was in the Medic's journal, while the Medic had gotten off just last night. He poured himself down the German's throat, moaning around the older man's cock.

Breathing through his nose, the Medic prevented himself from reciprocating. Instead, he licked the Sniper clean, pulled out of the Australian's mouth, and repositioned until he was kneeling between the Sniper's knees.

"'Old on a minute, Mate." The Sniper wiped his mouth. "I was willin' to suck, but not-"

The German snorted disdainfully. "You like to vatch, Herr Sniper? Vatch. Zis." Bending backward from the knees, the Medic stroked himself slowly. He fondled his balls, then tweaked his foreskin in a way that had to hurt. However, the pain only served to make him harder. He moaned at his own touch.

The Sniper smiled, broad and hungry. "C'mere, mate, I want a better view."

The Medic obliged, straddling the Sniper's shoulders to sit high on his chest. He stroked himself with abandon, fingering the crown of his cock and squeezing his own balls crushingly tight. The Sniper's eyes burned as he took in every detail, but the Medic had his arms pinned.

"Do you... like vhat you see?" the German panted.

"Bloody 'ell, yess."

The Medic came on the Sniper's face, aiming as much as he could at the Australian's mouth. When he was done, he licked up the other spatters, kissing his own taste into the Sniper's lips.

They smiled at each other, but the medic lay limply on the bed while the Sniper got up and dressed. As he let himself out, he said, "I'll be seein' you, mate."

"Ja," the Medic purred. "I vill leave zer light on."