#pride month with two gay soldier blokes

[stumisstability]

Soap: hey Simon, will you take care of me and protect me?

Ghost:

Soap:

Ghost, putting his weights back on the rack: it's called fucking spotting, Johnny...

[thetriggeredhappy]

hey since its pride month, may i request some gay mercs just having a good time? doesn't have to be any ship in particular, it'd just be nice to see them all get to celebrate :D thanks and happy pride!!!

this spiraled into me just writing my headcanons for all the mercs but also i am in fact so behind on requests that i had to push this one up in the order to have it even come out during pride month so yeah

also everyone is trans except pyro who’s double trans don’t @ me

(warnings for vague reference to the concept of homophobia)

-

It was an hour and a half into a team debriefing, almost two hours after Miss Pauling had arrived and about an hour and fifty minutes after Scout had started his usual general flirtiness, that finally it happened. Finally, the straw to break the camel’s back was placed. Finally Miss Pauling reached her limit.

“Scout, oh my god, I’m gay,” Miss Pauling snapped, and the room fell quiet.

Across a whole table from her, Scout blinked. Blinked again. Blinked a third time. Glances were exchanged between teammates.

“Aw, man,” Scout finally said quietly, and there was a pause of roughly three seconds before he gasped and sat up straight. “Wait so you like girls?” he asked quickly.

“Uh,” Miss Pauling said, hesitated, confused by the sudden shift of tone. “Yeah, basically.”

“Miss P can we please go hang out at some point and please can I wingman for you?” Scout asked all in a rush. Before she could even process that he was already defending the idea. “Seriously, I kick ass as a wingman! Look, like a third of the girls I usually hit on end up not bein’ into dudes anyways, I find a cool girl who likes girls I can send ‘em your way, y’know? It’ll be awesome! Seriously!”

“You’re—wow, you already moved past it?” Miss Pauling asked, surprised. “Like, no follow up questions?”

“I mean, should I ask more?” Scout asked, eyebrows furrowing a little.

“No, I just thought you’d probably have more to say to that,” Miss Pauling said, blinking a few times herself. “About the liking girls thing.”

“Oh! Oh, yeah, no, that’s—that’s cool, no worries. We’re cool,” Scout shrugged, gesturing around the table. “Shit, did you think we were gonna be assholes about it?”

“Uh,” Miss Pauling said, not sure how to answer that.

“I told you,” Spy muttered from his place relatively close to her around the table, and she shot him a glare. “The job offers tend to reach people from the fringes of society, Miss Pauling. What other crowds might they attract?”

“Okay, so I knew about Spy and Medic—“

“How?” Medic asked, looking a little surprised. “Herr Spy is obvious—“ Spy raised an eyebrow but said nothing in protest, “—but how me?”

“Is easy to tell,” Heavy mumbled, and was elbowed for his trouble. “Does not help that Doktor is never interested in fancy women at fancy business party.”

“Yeah, mostly that,” Miss Pauling agreed. “Wait, you too, Scout?”

“Sure, I mean, guys are great, girls are great, so why not, right?” Scout shrugged.

“Okay, wait, who else, then?” Miss Pauling asked, baffled.

A general consensus around the table of affirmation, lightly seasoned with a few see-saw hand motions and vague head tilts.

“Seriously?! Okay, no, okay, we’re doing a roll call,” Miss Pauling said firmly. “Medic already went.”

“Ja,” Medic agreed.

“Heavy?”

“Men are most good, but if partner is capable and intelligent, it does not matter,” Heavy said sagely. “Heart is most important.”

“Pyro?”

A series of noises muffled almost entirely by their mask and wide gestures. Miss Pauling nodded in faux-understanding once those died down.

“Uh huh. Scout already went too—“

“I mean, I can go again,” Scout offered.

“Engie?” Miss Pauling asked, ignoring him.

He shrugged a little bashfully, adjusting his helmet. “Well, not so much interested in dating just now with work and all, but... suppose it don’t much matter whether I end up with the kids and picket fence, ‘long as whoever I end up catchin’ is nice and all.”

“Demo?”

Demo considered for a second. “Eh,” he decided on.

“Eh?” Miss Pauling asked, a little confused.

“Eh,” Demo nodded. “Bloody, what’s it matter? Datin’ and all that lark, nice in theory, nasty business in practice. Rather just keep it me and a few mates and all.”

Soldier gave him a high-five of solidarity from one side. Demo accepted enthusiastically. “Affirmative!” Soldier barked.

“Okay. Spy, did you go?”

“I can make myself look like anyone on the planet. Gender and orientation are meaningless, as are labels,” Spy deadpanned.

“Got it. Sniper?”

He shrugged loosely after a second. “Blokes,” he mumbled.

A pause. “Blokes?” Miss Pauling repeated awkwardly.

“Blokes,” Sniper agreed.

“That’s... fair,” she said. “Sheesh, what are the odds?”

“Less slim than you’d assume,” Spy hummed.

“Is that a yes to the wingman thing?” Scout prompted, undeterred.

“I, um... I actually... have something going on this weekend,” Miss Pauling said slowly.

“Oh, yeah, work huh?” Scout asked, looking just a little put out, sympathetic.

“I’m actually going to be in this one town for a little while since I’m around on business, and most of my evening is probably going to be free, so... I’m, um. I’ll be meeting someone,” she said carefully.

“Oh my god tell me more,” Scout insisted, leaning forward, chin on his hands. She went to deny that and to try to get the meeting back on track, but similar looks of interest seemed to be on the faces of most of the others around the table, so instead she was forced to sigh and relent.

“She’s really pretty,” she started in, and the meeting didn’t get back on track for almost an hour.