Blowing Off Steam: Part 1
Author: k8matty
Title: Blowing Off Steam: Part 1
Pairing: Scout/Sniper
Rating: NC-17+
Summary: A fairly innocent Scout learns what the team does to 'blow off steam'.
Word Count: 1263
Authors Notes: Was going to abandon this fic after FailFiction.net took it down - but a few people messaged me asking me to finish, or at least post it elsewhere, so it'll keep going here. Possibly also on TF2chan if I ever figure out how to use that.
*
As the newest and youngest member of the team, Scout had never really been present for a drinking night with the boys.
“Reckon you might wanna go easy on the sauce, kid.” Sniper advised, taking a seat next to Scout as the wiry young man reached for a shot of whatever-the-hell Demoman was ladling out. The fluid all but burned Scout’s mouth and he tried not to cough at the rancid taste but failed miserably, much to the laughter of his teammates.
By midnight, the young Bostonian was well and truly smashed. Distantly, it occurred to Scout that he probably shouldn’t have tried to keep up with the older men, but he’d wanted so badly for the team to stop treating him as the baby of the gang and finally see him as the man he was.
Scout wasn’t even aware of how long he’d been slumped half-awake in his chair until he noticed that the general noise in the room had changed somehow. Instead of loud laugher, rude jokes and general conversation, the sounds had become something… else.
Scout looked up from the cluttered poker table only to immediately come into visual contact with a hot, sweaty mess in the centre of the floor. Scout’s squinted curiously, wondering why Medic and Heavy were wrestling. Naked. Oh… Scout’s heart flipped in his chest. They weren’t wrestling, Scout realised. Oh God, they were…
“Thought ye’ drifted off.” A slurred Scottish voice breathed in Scout’s ear.
Scout jumped as he realised Demoman was sitting right next to him. “I… I…” Scout glanced around the room in a drunk panic, his jaw dropping even further as he saw Engineer and Soldier sitting next to each other, each with a hand on the other’s erection but each with both eyes fixed on Heavy as he leaned over Medic and with a brutal thrust elicited a shrill moan.
Scout flushed deeply, the room spinning as his intoxicated body suddenly had to deal with all his blood rushing south. Being young and drunk and in the presence of so much sexual imagery, Scout could feel a definite stirring between his legs.
“Aye, wot’s that ye got there laddie?” The fumes emitting from Demoman’s breath could have given an elephant alcohol poisoning. Scout squeaked as a large, dark hand suddenly clamped down hard on his thigh in what might have started as a friendly gesture, but quickly morphed into something else as the hand refused to budge.
Scout’s head was reeling, he was so confused and aroused and drunk and oh gods Demoman’s hand had moved up and Scout was actually dimly considering if it would really be so bad to let that hand keep moving until it reached the part of Scout that was aching to be touched?
“Why don’t ye let ol’ Demo handle that for ye, eh?” Demoman whispered, already reaching into Scout’s pants. Scout whimpered when warm fingers brushed lightly against his erection, then let out a whine of protest when they were cruelly yanked away.
“Leave the ankle biter alone, mate.” Different hands were pulling Scout’s pants back into place around his waist and forcing him to stand. “Totally knackered, look at him. This one needs to hit the hay.”
“Mm, per’aps I could join you in escorting the boy back to ‘is quarters?” A smooth French accent tingled alongside Scout’s neck, making him moan and buck his hips involuntarily.
“Don’t even think about it, Spook.” Sniper warned against the predatory glint in Spy’s eye. Another night, that predatory glint might have been… enjoyable. But for now, Sniper’s sense of moral obligation forced him to tighten his grip around the drunken youth and turn away. “Righto come along then, Scout. You’ll be sleeping in my van tonight.”
Scout didn’t argue. He allowed himself to be led through the barracks until they somehow ended up in the tiny shitbox of a vehicle that Sniper called home. As Sniper set Scout down onto the little camper bed, Scout finally blurted. “What were they doing back there?”
Sniper snorted. “Christ, you really are an innocent aren’t ya?”
Scout’s ears burned. “No, I know what they’re doing, you idiot. I meant… why?”
Sniper shrugged, grinning. “Doesn’t hurt to blow off steam every now and again. You know how lonely it can get out here. Sometimes it can be nice to be physical with someone. Even another man.”
Scout winced. “I really doubt that.”
Sniper smirked, passing Scout his water. “You seemed to be enjoying the show back there.”
Scout opened his mouth to retaliate, but couldn’t argue with the truth of that statement. Instead, Scout found himself asking a question he wasn’t sure he wanted the answer to. “Have you had sex with any of the guys here?”
Sniper took a hearty swig of his tea and answered, “Yes.” Scout frowned a little at that, not sure why that bothered him so much. “But I normally just watch.” Sniper admitted.
Scout nodded thoughtfully. Yes, that somehow seemed more like the sort of thing Sniper would do - spying on the real action from the shadows like he always did. Scout’s alcohol-fogged brain was somehow able to supply Scout with images of what Sniper might look like while masturbating in the shadows, watching with excitement as two men carried on right in front of him.
It suddenly occurred to Scout that he was with another man in his van, on his bed and that he had somehow ended up painfully aroused.
“Kiss me,” Scout blurted. Blurting out whatever came into his head was a habit for Scout, and it only worsened when he’d been drinking.
Sniper coughed a little on his tea. “See, its saying stuff like that is why I took you home early tonight, mate.” Sniper tried to sound brisk about it, but he wasn’t exactly sober himself and the potential implications of having a drunk, horny youth alone in his van were starting to get tempting.
“I ain’t never kissed a guy.” Scout blurted again. “Think it’s nice, do you? Prove it.”
Scout sat up quickly, far too quickly considering how drunk he was but Sniper probably should have known that even when shitfaced, Scout was a speedy little bugger, and the next thing Sniper knew he had been pulled down onto the bed and somehow ended up with a lapful of Scout.
“Just once.” Scout tried to sound annoyed but it somehow came out as a soft plea. “You said you done it before with the other guys. Why not me?”
“Yer just a kid for crying out-”
“I’m not a kid!” Scout finally snapped and seized Sniper by the collar, pulling the other man towards him and into a kiss. Scout moaned: Sniper tasted like alcohol and cigarettes. His body was big and firm and heavy, and his stubble scratched Scout’s lips. The kiss was completely, utterly male, and Scout had to admit Sniper was right. This was nice.
As suddenly as it had begun, it was over. Sniper pulled back with a muffled “For fuck’s sake” and Scout suddenly felt as though he’d taken a bullet to the chest. No, that wasn’t right. He’d taken literally hundreds of bullets to the chest before, and not a single one had hurt quite like this.
“Just… just get some rest.” Sniper ordered and just like that, the flyscreen door was slamming shut behind him.
If Scout had anything to be grateful for right then, it was that his hurt and humiliation only haunted him for a brief second before the alcohol finally won and he passed out.
Comments Feed the Porn Muse
Chapter Two
Title: Blowing Off Steam: Part 1
Pairing: Scout/Sniper
Rating: NC-17+
Summary: A fairly innocent Scout learns what the team does to 'blow off steam'.
Word Count: 1263
Authors Notes: Was going to abandon this fic after FailFiction.net took it down - but a few people messaged me asking me to finish, or at least post it elsewhere, so it'll keep going here. Possibly also on TF2chan if I ever figure out how to use that.
*
As the newest and youngest member of the team, Scout had never really been present for a drinking night with the boys.
“Reckon you might wanna go easy on the sauce, kid.” Sniper advised, taking a seat next to Scout as the wiry young man reached for a shot of whatever-the-hell Demoman was ladling out. The fluid all but burned Scout’s mouth and he tried not to cough at the rancid taste but failed miserably, much to the laughter of his teammates.
By midnight, the young Bostonian was well and truly smashed. Distantly, it occurred to Scout that he probably shouldn’t have tried to keep up with the older men, but he’d wanted so badly for the team to stop treating him as the baby of the gang and finally see him as the man he was.
Scout wasn’t even aware of how long he’d been slumped half-awake in his chair until he noticed that the general noise in the room had changed somehow. Instead of loud laugher, rude jokes and general conversation, the sounds had become something… else.
Scout looked up from the cluttered poker table only to immediately come into visual contact with a hot, sweaty mess in the centre of the floor. Scout’s squinted curiously, wondering why Medic and Heavy were wrestling. Naked. Oh… Scout’s heart flipped in his chest. They weren’t wrestling, Scout realised. Oh God, they were…
“Thought ye’ drifted off.” A slurred Scottish voice breathed in Scout’s ear.
Scout jumped as he realised Demoman was sitting right next to him. “I… I…” Scout glanced around the room in a drunk panic, his jaw dropping even further as he saw Engineer and Soldier sitting next to each other, each with a hand on the other’s erection but each with both eyes fixed on Heavy as he leaned over Medic and with a brutal thrust elicited a shrill moan.
Scout flushed deeply, the room spinning as his intoxicated body suddenly had to deal with all his blood rushing south. Being young and drunk and in the presence of so much sexual imagery, Scout could feel a definite stirring between his legs.
“Aye, wot’s that ye got there laddie?” The fumes emitting from Demoman’s breath could have given an elephant alcohol poisoning. Scout squeaked as a large, dark hand suddenly clamped down hard on his thigh in what might have started as a friendly gesture, but quickly morphed into something else as the hand refused to budge.
Scout’s head was reeling, he was so confused and aroused and drunk and oh gods Demoman’s hand had moved up and Scout was actually dimly considering if it would really be so bad to let that hand keep moving until it reached the part of Scout that was aching to be touched?
“Why don’t ye let ol’ Demo handle that for ye, eh?” Demoman whispered, already reaching into Scout’s pants. Scout whimpered when warm fingers brushed lightly against his erection, then let out a whine of protest when they were cruelly yanked away.
“Leave the ankle biter alone, mate.” Different hands were pulling Scout’s pants back into place around his waist and forcing him to stand. “Totally knackered, look at him. This one needs to hit the hay.”
“Mm, per’aps I could join you in escorting the boy back to ‘is quarters?” A smooth French accent tingled alongside Scout’s neck, making him moan and buck his hips involuntarily.
“Don’t even think about it, Spook.” Sniper warned against the predatory glint in Spy’s eye. Another night, that predatory glint might have been… enjoyable. But for now, Sniper’s sense of moral obligation forced him to tighten his grip around the drunken youth and turn away. “Righto come along then, Scout. You’ll be sleeping in my van tonight.”
Scout didn’t argue. He allowed himself to be led through the barracks until they somehow ended up in the tiny shitbox of a vehicle that Sniper called home. As Sniper set Scout down onto the little camper bed, Scout finally blurted. “What were they doing back there?”
Sniper snorted. “Christ, you really are an innocent aren’t ya?”
Scout’s ears burned. “No, I know what they’re doing, you idiot. I meant… why?”
Sniper shrugged, grinning. “Doesn’t hurt to blow off steam every now and again. You know how lonely it can get out here. Sometimes it can be nice to be physical with someone. Even another man.”
Scout winced. “I really doubt that.”
Sniper smirked, passing Scout his water. “You seemed to be enjoying the show back there.”
Scout opened his mouth to retaliate, but couldn’t argue with the truth of that statement. Instead, Scout found himself asking a question he wasn’t sure he wanted the answer to. “Have you had sex with any of the guys here?”
Sniper took a hearty swig of his tea and answered, “Yes.” Scout frowned a little at that, not sure why that bothered him so much. “But I normally just watch.” Sniper admitted.
Scout nodded thoughtfully. Yes, that somehow seemed more like the sort of thing Sniper would do - spying on the real action from the shadows like he always did. Scout’s alcohol-fogged brain was somehow able to supply Scout with images of what Sniper might look like while masturbating in the shadows, watching with excitement as two men carried on right in front of him.
It suddenly occurred to Scout that he was with another man in his van, on his bed and that he had somehow ended up painfully aroused.
“Kiss me,” Scout blurted. Blurting out whatever came into his head was a habit for Scout, and it only worsened when he’d been drinking.
Sniper coughed a little on his tea. “See, its saying stuff like that is why I took you home early tonight, mate.” Sniper tried to sound brisk about it, but he wasn’t exactly sober himself and the potential implications of having a drunk, horny youth alone in his van were starting to get tempting.
“I ain’t never kissed a guy.” Scout blurted again. “Think it’s nice, do you? Prove it.”
Scout sat up quickly, far too quickly considering how drunk he was but Sniper probably should have known that even when shitfaced, Scout was a speedy little bugger, and the next thing Sniper knew he had been pulled down onto the bed and somehow ended up with a lapful of Scout.
“Just once.” Scout tried to sound annoyed but it somehow came out as a soft plea. “You said you done it before with the other guys. Why not me?”
“Yer just a kid for crying out-”
“I’m not a kid!” Scout finally snapped and seized Sniper by the collar, pulling the other man towards him and into a kiss. Scout moaned: Sniper tasted like alcohol and cigarettes. His body was big and firm and heavy, and his stubble scratched Scout’s lips. The kiss was completely, utterly male, and Scout had to admit Sniper was right. This was nice.
As suddenly as it had begun, it was over. Sniper pulled back with a muffled “For fuck’s sake” and Scout suddenly felt as though he’d taken a bullet to the chest. No, that wasn’t right. He’d taken literally hundreds of bullets to the chest before, and not a single one had hurt quite like this.
“Just… just get some rest.” Sniper ordered and just like that, the flyscreen door was slamming shut behind him.
If Scout had anything to be grateful for right then, it was that his hurt and humiliation only haunted him for a brief second before the alcohol finally won and he passed out.
Comments Feed the Porn Muse
Chapter Two