Ancient, sort of unfinished porny-ness that will be finished soon. Hopefully this week.
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Medic covered his face with his arm, the bright lights were making it hard to sleep, and he was still so very tired. He didn’t quite remember why, but he had that gut feeling that perhaps it was a good idea to remain asleep. Someone was making a lot of noise. Probably Sniper raising Cain or something.

Forget it, he couldn’t sleep like this. Sniper was going to get an earful from him. Grunting, he sat up wearily and rubbed his eyes. His head felt like a ton of bricks, and his hand felt odd too. He tentatively opened his eyes and…well he was wearing his gloves. Why? He would have…

He ventured a quick glance around the room, his head throbbing every time he turned his head even slightly. He wasn’t in his room. Hell, he was quite sure he wasn’t even in the base anymore. He’d have known!

He tried to stand up but found himself quite unable to. A rather slow and painful survey of his legs revealed why; he was quite securely tied down to the cot he was laying on. He swore under his breath, glancing about for anything within arms reach to help free him. Surely, he thought, if he was quick, his captors wouldn’t notice him. They’d expect him to be unconscious. As he turned to try and grope the floor searching for some means of escape, he heard something.

He strained to hear it, trying to clear his mind at the same time, but couldn’t make sense of what was being said. He paused. What a horrid time to have a moment of clarity! He distinctly understood some vague listless French. And then a sudden scream.

“B-Bitte nicht! OH GOD PLEASE!”

“Ah, Docteur, why ever would I stop, hrm? I’m ‘aving plenty of fun ‘ere.”

Oh god. That was his voice. That thing was here. He had to get out of here, or he knew he was going to die. He tried to rub the side of the rope against the metal frame of the cot, but to no avail. The sides of the cot were smooth. He laid back in defeat. Well, he could hope that it was distracted by poor Sawbones…

The shouting stopped suddenly, and the lights in the room dimmed until it was almost completely dark. Oh god, it knew he was awake. He swore he could see something, feel something so close to him.

The sound of slow deliberate footsteps and the sudden smell of blood grabbed his attention. The Spy must be somewhere farther away. Involuntarily, he let out a whimper. Not again. Not again.

The footsteps stopped, and Medic swore he could hear Spy’s breathing. He felt flash of heat on his cheek, and he cried out. That bastard had snuffed a cigarette on his face! Struggling to get away from the burn, Medic felt Spy’s breath against his ear.

“ ‘Ello zere cher. Did you sleep well? Your friend woke up earlier. We’ve been ‘aving a wonderful time.”

The Spy leaned over and planted a kiss on Medic’s trembling cheek. He recoiled reflexively away from Spy; the kiss was…wet and hot. He let out a terrified cry, only to be smothered by Spy’s mouth.

He tried to pull back from Spy, but he was ready for it and leaned in, his tongue attacking Medic’s mouth. He could taste and feel it now; Spy’s mouth was bathed in blood, and his face was covered in it too. It stank to high heaven, and his whole face felt…tacky. Medic distinctly thought he felt a hand slip under his shirt…this was disgusting, he couldn’t take it!

Frantically, Medic tried to bite, but a sudden crushing feeling in his jaw warned him against it. Spy was not going to let him get away from him until he was good and ready to.

A few moments later, Spy pulled back as another ear piercing scream sounded from the other room. He glanced over his shoulder, and walked to where he knew the light switch to be, keeping an eye on the bound Medic. Casually, he flipped the lights back on again allowing Medic to see him.

Spy’s lanky frame was speckled with blood; most noticeably on his white dress shirt. The front of his mask appeared slick and shiny, and Medic couldn’t help but notice the man was wearing a folded apron. Sawbones’ bright red gloves, now tinted a sickly burgundy, replaced the Spy’s customary leather ones. Spy nodded at him, mockingly.

“Tcha, cher. You are missing most of zeh fun. I have to go take care of my ozer guest, non? I will be back in a moment, and you can say ‘allo to heem.”

Medic craned his listen what was going on.

“N-n-nein, please Spy! I’ll do anything. ANYZHING YOU ASK! I… I can’t stand the pain, I don’t want to die!”

“Non? You don’t?” The Spy almost sounded bored, indifferent to the pleas of the other man, “Would you consider betraying poor Medic? Betraying your worthless team?”

Sawbones was whimpering loudly, each noise punctuated by a pained gasp. Medic surmised that Spy really had intended to do harm to Sawbones, rather than simply causing him fear…a move that seemed very unlike Spy.

Sudden footsteps broke his train of thought. Spy was standing in the door way again, wiping Sawbones’ rubber gloves off with a rancid looking towel. He was grinning, leering at him again, and Medic could almost feel his eyes rove up and down his body, leaving a trail of disgust in their wake.

“Ah cher, ‘ere we go! We’re going to visit your little coward friend now. I’m sure ‘e’ll be happy to see you.”

Spy moved around the cot, and lifted up the head of the bed. The bed was apparently on wheels, as the bed easily wheeled into the “surgery”. As Medic glanced around he quickly concluded that this room clearly used to belong to a Medic. The drawers were clearly filled with scalpels, tweezers, and other implements, the wall racks were covered in scrubs and Medic style lab coats, and the “bed” to which Sawbones was strapped was clearly an operating table.

Sawbones looked up at Medic, tears welling in his eyes, “I am so…es tut mir leid Medic. Ich wollte es nicht tun! Ich…er versprach mir, dass wir beide diese Behandelung überleben werden, wenn ich RED...” Sawbones couldn’t continue, and dissolved into incoherent sobs.

Medic bit his lip; he had already figured that Sawbones would have given in, but… he had hoped he could convince him, “Nein, nein, Sawbones, zis isn’t okay! We can’t let RED down, our… our comrades are relying on us! Please!”

Spy moved away from the bed Medic was strapped to, and stood next to Sawbones, idly stroking his check.

“Tsch, Medic, come now,” he grabbed Sawbones’ chin and pulled him up into a rough kiss, releasing him quickly, “Sawbones is going to really enjoy it ‘ere, cher. I’ll keep him good company.”

Spy slowly picked up the Medigun, and pointed at Sawbones, turning it on for just a moment. Just enough to seal up most of his wounds. Sawbones let out a deep sigh, looking pleadingly at Medic.

He had to understand, he had to forgive him. Sawbones COULDN’T die. He HAD to make it somehow, besides, Medic wasn’t in danger! He could tell Spy liked Medic, but only barely tolerated him… his survival hinged on his doing whatever Spy wanted him to.

Medic returned that pleading look, but his intent was very different. He…he couldn’t believe this! Sawbones owed him! He owed red!

He snarled, “Sawbones, DU FEIGLINGE! SEI DOCH NICHT SO ALBERN! BITTE, HILF MIR!”

Spy leaned back against the wall, rather enjoying the exchange. Maybe, he mused, he should cut this short, before Sawbones became more afraid of Medic and RED than he did of Spy. He walked purposefully toward Sawbones, and drew the tip of his knife across his stomach. Sawbones shivered and shrank back.

Spy smiled at Medic toothily, “Hrm, I ‘ave and idea for you two. Let’s have some fun, shall we, ‘tit?” He slammed the bed backward, laughing as Medic was roughly jolted into his bonds.

Spy dragged Sawbones off the operating table and dumped him unceremoniously on top of Medic. He took a few steps back, hissing in admiration. Medic’s scarred pale white skin was such a delightful contrast to that of Sawbones’ tear streaked red and bloodied face. He shuddered a bit; this was going to be all too enjoyable for him.

“Wh-what d-do you want me to do, S-s py?” Sawbones whispered as he straightened himself up.

“Hrm, you little…I want to play with Medic, eh?” Spy leered at him, those disgustingly white teeth contrasting with the filthy mask.

“But… but!”

“JUST,” he calmed himself quickly, “play nice with my cher, hrm?”

Sawbones gritted his teeth, and looked down at the Medic. Medic looked up, his eyes every bit pleading with Sawbones to simply let him be.

Sawbones’ movements were as sudden as Spy’s had been. He grabbed Medic’s jaw, turning his head to the side and bit down along Medic’s neck. He was breathing hard; he had no idea what Spy had really wanted him to do. Shame washed over him at the thought of what he was doing to Medic.

At least he was going to live if he kept Spy happy. At least Medic wasn’t going to die. At least, he could convince himself of all of this. Poor Medic… poor Medic knew something was wrong.

“For God’s sake Sawbones, p-please?! RED is going to come for us; you have to hold out just zhis once!”

Sawbones almost collapsed on top of Medic; Spy’s “gentle” caress with his blade across Sawbones’ back had shocked him horribly.

Spy leaned down, cupping Sawbones’ chin in his hand, and stroking Medic’s cheek, much as one would a cat. “Ah, poor Sawbones is going to suffer so if you are not better to heem, cher.”

Medic looked at him, “Please! N-no!” Sawbones’ eyes widened in terror again, didn’t he know! Why didn’t he stop?

Spy gave Medic a look, and retreated back into the dark, watching again. Nodding to Sawbones, Spy seemed to be signaling him to continue.

Sawbones gently began unbuttoning Medic’s shirt, careful to keep the material as clean as his blood stained hands would allow. Here and there, he pinched and groped at Medic, eliciting a series of pained gasps. Occasionally Sawbones would look over to Spy…as if he wanted approval.

None seemed to be forth coming, Medic noted. Just the feeling of Spy’s penetrating eyes on his skin.

Medic felt disgusting; his comrade’s blood smeared hands were all over his torso, and his shuddering little breaths and cowed demeanor terrified him. What had Spy done?

“Sawbones! Stop zis! We can fight together.” A sudden punch to the stomach silenced him.

“SHUT UP, JUST SHUT UP YOU WORM!”
Spy hovered near Sawbones, clearly ready to mark him again, but this some how…pleased him? He stepped back, cautiously watching Sawbones. It wouldn’t do at all for him to hurt Medic badly, but this seemed alright. No permanent marks would be left on Medic that weren’t Spy’s.

Medic gasped for air, watching as the thin man drew back. What the hell was going on? Sawbones was never this aggressive.

“S-sawbones?”

“Keep your mouth shut!” He leaned in for another kiss, his bloodied face leaving streaks against Medic’s face. As Sawbones pulled back to sit up, he noticed…he noticed that Sawbones had been bleeding all over him. He tried to push his body back into the cot, but he knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

Sawbones looked back at Spy, trying to find approval, to find guidance, something! He had to keep the Spy happy. Spy simply stared at Medic’s prone body, waiting. He fumbled with Medic’s belt this time, which earned him a slash across the cheek.

“Keep it above zeh belt, you slut.”

Unsteadily, Sawbones returned to his little routine; pinching, twisting, biting, and licking the sensitive skin of Medic’s chest. The effect he had been having on the other man wasn’t beyond him; he seemed utterly disgusted, but occasionally let out a little yelp of delight despite himself if Sawbones managed to hit just the right spot.

The little gasps had lured Spy away from the wall again. He was now crouched next to them, occasionally running a gloved hand through Sawbones’ hair. This was what he wanted, and he certainly was enjoying it. But… it lacked something.

“Sawbones,” he whispered, “zats not very…original, non? I showed you zat. Why don’t you be better to him, non?”

He nodded anxiously as he tilted his head to look at Spy, “Ah, ah…like what?”

Spy smiled, running a finger along the still bleeding gash in Sawbones’ cheek.

“Well, zheres plenty you could do. Why don’t you,” he indicated the bloody mess he had left on Medic, “help each other clean up your mess, non?”

Medic shook his head. That was…unsanitary to begin with! He opened his mouth to protest, but Spy silenced him quickly as he nodded to Sawbones, “Go ahead, hrm?”

As Sawbones leaned down to start licking up the blood that had accumulated on Medic, Medic strained upwards as far as he could.

"HOW DARE YOU SPY! ZIS ISN'T RIGHT! HOW, HOW COULD YOU?"

Hurriedly, Sawbones pushed the other man roughly against the cot, covering his mouth firmly with one hand, while he lapped up the blood that had begun to gather on Medic’s pale stomach. The mingling tastes of metallic blood and salt made him want to retch, even more so than the utter shame and embarrassment of having to do this to his long time colleague.

Medic tried to scream past the hand over his mouth to no avail, and the thin smile on Spy’s face proved that this was probably less of an annoyance to Spy than he had previously thought. Fatigued and disappointed, he allowed himself to subside into horrified silence as Sawbones continued his clean up. Occasionally, a small twitch of pleasure crossed his face. He couldn’t help it; the feeling of a tongue slipping against his skin was, in any other circumstance, extraordinarily enjoyable.

Sawbones carefully pulled his hand away from Medic’s mouth, and leaned in to give him a bloody kiss…something which made Spy lurch forward. He turned to look at the rapidly approaching BLU, his eyes wide.

“Wh-whats wrong? I…he’s cleaned up, S-spy.”

“Good job,” he pulled Sawbones off the cot, and helped him to stand, “now I just need you to do one more little zing, ma biche.”

Spy deftly handed a small bottle of a very mild sedative and a syringe to Sawbones. Looking back at Medic, he smiled gently, or at least as gently as either of them had ever seen him smile.

“Give heem just enough to relax him, to make him less tense, non?”

Sawbones nodded, carefully drawing up the solution into the syringe as he approached Medic. He flicked the tip a few times, just for good measure. As he leaned down to inject the sedative, he whispered into Medic’s ear.

“Es tut mir leid, Herr Doktor, aber es muss so sein. Wenigstens wird dieses Medikament deine Leiden milden.“

The prick of the needle into his arm almost sent Medic into a panic, but there was little or nothing he could do. He watched as Sawbones handed the equipment back to Spy, quietly willing himself to resist the impulse to shout, to scream at Sawbones like he so richly deserved.

“How long will zis take?” Spy glanced down at a pristine looking wrist watch.

“Half an hour, then it’s fully in his system.” He looked down at the floor. Spy caught his chin, and tilted his face up towards him.

“Very very nice, ma biche.” He slipped a length of cord around Sawbones’ hands, tying them together quickly. He roughly kicked the man’s legs out from underneath him, and bound them too.

As Sawbones sniffled, perhaps the only real response he could manage anymore, Spy tenderly placed him in a corner, facing the cot.

“Zere zere, ‘tit. You can watch mon cher and I have fun.” He stroked Sawbones’ cheek gently, and then sat beside Medic’s cot, watching the time.