#internalized homophobia if you squint btw. just briefly

[littleguypumpkinsheep]

stupid Pilot and Engie drabble lollolol. What would their ship name be… AIRCRAFT??? Omg.

The pilot had just gotten off another long shift of delivering packages, lethal kinds and not. Both his plane, “Sweetheart”, and himself were slathered with grease and oil and every other kind of unexplainable substance he picked up on the battlefield. He was a mess and really ought to take a shower, but the night was young and he still had enough nerve about him to visit his friend, Engie. The two men shared a couple of drinks amongst themselves and sat outside to talk, heartily laughing at each other’s jokes and explanations of their days alongside the crickets, who were out chirping somewhere in the brush around Engie’s garage. They were both tipsy enough to feel that joyful buzz, but not so much that they’d regret it too badly in the morning. Pilot was a little more sloshed than he’d like to admit, having never been one to hold down drinks despite his swearing he could, and he found himself staring dazedly at his friend more and more often. 

Engineer was the only mercenary out of the bunch who didn’t act like a total freak upon Pilot’s first arrival, and so they got to talking a lot quicker than the rest. He was smart, too, sharp enough to fix Sweetheart up when she got damaged in flight. The rest of the mercs weren’t bad, though. He got along fine with Sniper once he got him to actually talk some. Soldier would be his go-to friend if he was looking for mindless and dangerous stunts to throw himself into, and the same for the Demoman if he was sober enough. Spy had been polite, and Scout was…. A usual 20-something-year-old. That German though, the Medic, was really quite handsome. Pilot had been interested in him upon first meeting, but quickly learned he was unapproachable. Heavy, or his personal bodyguard more like it, frightened him too much to talk to Medic most days. He was sure the both of them would snap him in half if he tried to get slick anyway. 

The Pyro was normal. 

Something about Engie was alluring to Pilot, though. He already felt like they had a connection going on, a real bond. Out of everyone, he’d rather spend his time with him. Engineer liked him just as well too. It was refreshing to finally have someone else of sound mind to talk to, and his plane brought some new and interesting work to test his skills on. More than that, though, he just plain liked Pilot. He was sure that even if he was dumb as a brick he’d still find something worthwhile to hang around him for. Just being able to look at him seemed plenty enough. There was always something new about him he could find, something pretty, or interesting, or both. Like those scars across the bridge of his nose. It’d been curiosity at first, but now his ideas about it just came to wanting to kiss them and any other scars he found. Awful damned thoughts. But they were there. And they were there often. 

Engie turned his head just briefly enough to catch Pilot staring at him before he snapped away, taking another considerable swig of his drink. Some strange feeling bubbled in his chest. 

“Hell are ya starin' at me for?” He asked, tone playful but caught off guard. Pilot looked at the ground, and then skyward, searching in the darkness for an excuse and making a fool out of himself in doing so. 

“Wasn’t none. Just’is.. lookin at the stars.” He coughed. “They’re looking pretty fine tonight ain’t they?” 

Engie glanced up and found nothing in particular about them interesting. Pilot was a damn liar, he’d seen those dumb specks up close countless times in Sweetheart. 

“Ah-huh.” 

Maybe it was the alcohol, but he suddenly felt rather brave and rather warm. He focused his attention on the man next to him again, with intent this time.

“Reckon I can tell you something that’s prettier n’ em.” He tried, and his friend turned to him at that. 

“Yeah? What’ll that be?” 

“Uh.” 

A beat passed. 

“Well, that’ll be you, Pilot.” He said dumbly, and plopped a firm hand on his shoulder. 

The whole interaction was stupid, awkward, and probably regrettable in a few seconds, but the two men just stared at each other a moment. Out in the middle of fuck nowhere, in probably one of the most ridiculously dangerous jobs Pilot ever had, he had found someone. 

“Well. I think you shine brighter n’ them too.” Pilot said, and almost immediately gagged at himself afterward. It was the first thing he thought to say, which was always the worst one. Engineer paused, and then laughed loudly and hoarsely. Pilot laughed too, although a little delayed and stunned, shutting up completely when Engie bonked his head against his shoulder and rested there. 

“Well god damn,” he started, a little out of breath. “We’re both just awful at this!” 

Pilot snorted, feeling slightly less embarrassed, and leaned into his friend, or possibly, his new partner. 

“Ah feel like I’m worse at it than anyone, if that means anythin to ya,” 

“Nah, I think it was real sweet what you said. I don’t hear much things like that now.” He said, and hummed. 

“Specially not toward me.” 

Pilot let out a quiet sigh through his nose, wrapping an arm around Engineer. He looked toward the sky again, this time thinking about what he wanted to say first. 

“Well, if you’ll have me, I’ll tell ya lots more things like that n’ more.” 

“You mean that? You ain’t just drunk?” 

“Hell, I’ve meant it since you first fixed my plane. Maybe sooner! It don’t matter either way, I think.” 

“Then good. Cause I’ve liked you since you first came down here.”