#some bloke might even think he’s a German spy

[l-alan-l]

The Captain scribbled absentmindedly A.H with hearts around it just to start panicking. Because he’s definitely not in love with Adolf Hitler 

[lu-undy]

Request #6

" sniper and spy or Lucien and Mundy going record shopping" 

Here it is!

“May I turn the radio off?”

“Don’t like a bit of music?”

Spy blew his cigarette smoke away. He extended his hand through the window such that he could shake the ashes off outside of the van. They flew down and landed on the asphalt before the gush of air trailing behind the van made them spiral and dispersed them into the desert.

“Sniper, this might be the hundredth time that we hear this preposterous noise that you dare call music.”

Sniper chuckled. 

“Such a posh snob, you are.” They exchanged a gaze and a conniving smile. “I love you, you bastard.”

“Well, I shall take the ‘I love you’ and give you back the ‘bastard’ if you don’t mind.” He answered with a smug grin.

“Right, y’know what?”

“Pray tell.”

“I’m drivin’ us to the city, right?”

“Unless you changed your mind, and I would rather not as my stock of cigarettes is depleting at great speed - I wonder why…”

“Are you sayin’ it’s my fault?”

“Well, who else is helping themselves to my cigarette case, hm?”

“Don’t know, you tell me!” Sniper answered. “Whoever that is, he’s gettin’ a bit too close to you for my taste, eh.”

“Is he?” Spy raised an eyebrow. 

“Yeah, he bloody is.” Sniper slid a hand away from the steering wheel and on his lover’s thigh. “Gotta let him know that no one else but me can get a cig’ from you like that, eh? Who the hell does he think he is?”

“Well, I think you have come to a conclusion by yourself, mon loup.”

[my wolf]

“Did I?”

“You said it yourself, no one else but you can take a cigarette from me, no one else but you can slide a hand to my breast pocket without losing a wrist. So it is indeed, you.” 

“You got proof?”

“Better than that.” Spy answered and Sniper turned to look him in the eye. “I have you.” 

He put his gloved hand on top of the Aussie’s, on his thigh and their eyes lingered on each other for a second.

“But please, pray tell me what your idea was.” Spy asked.

“We could go and buy some tunes.” Sniper said Spy’s eyebrows jumped. “You can buy your classical music or whatever a fancy arse like you likes, and I’ll get some proper nice music.”

Spy’s smug grin grew.

“Fine, I shall take up the challenge, on one condition.” He raised his index finger and turned to look Sniper in the eye. The Aussie moved his eyes from the road to his lover’s. “You admit that you like my ‘fancy arse’.”

Sniper smiled and chuckled.

“Spook…”

“Come on, don’t cower away.”

“Me? A coward? Nah.” Sniper chuckled.

“Then say it.” Spy insisted. “How hard can it be, hm?”

“Fuck you, Spook.”

“Do it yourself.”

“You askin’?”

“You heard me, and you won’t make me repeat it.” The Frenchman smiled.

Both chuckled.

“Right, let’s get yer cigs and then, off to a record shop, yeah?”

“D’accord.”

[Alright.]

When they reached the city, Sniper parked. 

“Go ahead, I’ll wait for you here.”

“Fine.”

The van’s door opened, passenger's side, and a black, varnished, Italian shoe landed on the grey, concrete sidewalk with a soft click of the heel. Spy exited and turned to Sniper as he fluidly closed the button of his jacket. He winked at the Aussie who shook his head, while rolling his eyes. Spy nonetheless noticed the blush on his lover’s cheeks through the window. He turned his back and let his hips sway. He knew Sniper was watching...

Spy entered the nearby shop and bought more of his beloved menthol cigarettes - imported straight from France, mind you - before returning to the van.

“Got your stuff?”

“I thought that we clearly established and proved that it was yours as much as it was mine.” Spy said and put the cardboard bag on the floor next to his crossed legs.

“Yeah, well… Also, it should be illegal to walk the way you do when you are like you are…”

“Stalker.” Spy answered.

“It’s part of my job to follow my targets, eh?”

“Am I a target?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“How high is the bounty over my head, then, chasseur sauvage?”

[wild hunter]

“Not high enough, should be definitely higher. Bloke like you? Hard to find, and even harder to catch.” Sniper answered and Spy turned to him with pink upper cheeks.

“Merci.”

“Welcome, gorgeous. Now, where’s that record shop… I swear it’s somewhere in this street… Ah! There it is.”

Sniper parked again.

“Right, so what do we say, one disc each?”

“That sounds reasonable. But let us make it a bit more interesting than that, shall we?” The devil with the malicious smirk suggested.

“Alright, I’m listenin’.”

“You will have to find a song that you think I will appreciate and I will do the same for you.”

“How the hell am I supposed to guess your taste?” Sniper asked.

“Use this…” Spy poked his lover’s forehead. “And this.” He poked his chest, where his heart was. “And with a bit of luck, you should find something.”

“Spook, I-I don’t know, I mean…”

“Come on, you know me better than anyone else for thousands of miles around. I am sure you will find something.” Spy winked at his lover and exited the van. Sniper followed him and both entered the shop.

Both headed in different directions. Sniper’s first guess was classical music. He took disc after disc, but the German, Italian and French names didn’t mean anything to him. And what was that habit of putting numbers on the pieces couldn’t they give them proper names…? He sighed and decided to walk around instead, until something would catch his eye. 

Sniper put his hands in his pockets and took step after step, travelling through countries and centuries, styles and genres, while only crossing the aisles of that record shop. Suddenly, a familiar smell tickled his nostrils. He blinked repeatedly and looked around him.

“Spook, quit followin’ me while bein’ invisible. That’s cheatin’.” He gently said at the air in front of him and out of a cloud of thin smoke, the man in the mask and suit appeared. 

“What gave me away?”

“Your awfully expensive perfume.”

“Ah, I will thus have to blame the man who complimented me for it a few weeks ago. It completely ruined this tailing operation.” He smiled and raised his arctic blue eyes to the Aussie. “I see you haven’t found your happiness yet.” He said looking at his empty hands.

“I have, ‘m lookin’ at it.” Sniper answered with a smile on his lips. Spy chuckled and lowered his head before brushing his eyebrow with his thumb to ease the blush away.

“You know that was not what I meant.”

“Yeah, I know. But still.”

“Merci. I shall go and pay for the disc I have found for you. Take your time, I will be waiting for you in the van.”

“Here, the keys.”

“As if I needed them.” Spy headed away and Sniper rolled his eyes. Those damn slim hips...

Later that day, Sniper convinced Spy to spend the evening in his van and after some negotiation, both were sitting on the bench, Spy leaning on Sniper, feeling the weight of the Aussie's arm on his shoulders. They had the lights off, apart from Sniper's night lamp.

"You wanna hear what I got for you?"

"Please." Spy asked and raised his irresistible eyes to Sniper. 

"Look at you, gorgeous you are, absolutely gorgeous." He kissed his lover's brow. "Right, let me put this record player on the table… Plug it in and... pop the disc on. Right, you ready?" 

"Please." Spy nodded. 

"Here we go for the song I've found for you." Sniper pressed a button and sat next to his lover. It took a few seconds before the music resounded. 

"Oh…" Spy raised his head to Sniper. He had recognised the intro with the trumpets, the wind instruments and the typical ballad rhythm. "La Vie en Rose?" He asked. 

"Yeah." 

Edith Piaf started singing and Spy bit his lip, snuggling closer to his lover and curling up against his chest. 

"Y'like that song?" 

Spy nodded his head and Sniper pulled him closer, gently rocking him in rhythm. 

"It is… one of my favourite songs, if not my favourite, I…" 

Sniper looked down. Spy had his face flat against his chest. 

"Hey, tell me." The Aussie cupped his cheek.

"Why did you pick this one?" A muffled voice asked. 

"Cause it's about the only French song I know, and it's bloody beautiful, just like you." 

"Do you know what the lyrics mean?" 

"Nah. Somethin' about love I guess." 

Spy raised his head and his gloved hand to Sniper's cheek. He cupped it and gently whispered. 

"When he holds me in his arms, when he whispers to me, I see life in pink… And as soon as I catch a glimpse of him, then I feel in me my heart is starting to beat." 

"Well, it's not wrong." 

Spy smiled as the song ended.

"Your turn now, love. Put on your song for me." 

Spy didn't move. 

"Spook…? C'mere, I know what you need." Sniper cupped his lover's face with both hands and pulled him into a deep kiss. It washed Spy to his guts and he felt like a new man when Sniper withdrew. "You alright?"

Spy's eyebrows were arched high up and he was giving a look Sniper had never seen yet. 

"Oui." He slightly nodded. "I shall show you the song I found for you now… Merci."

Sniper gave him a peck on the brow before letting him proceed. The Frenchman put the disc on and resumed his seat. 

The masterful jingle of the piano keys rose from the record player and soon a voice. A voice? No, the voice. The maestro himself, Sinatra.

"How do you keep the music playing?

How do you make it last?

How do you keep the song from fading too fast?"

The rest of the orchestra slowly woke up behind the elegant singer. 

"How do you lose yourself to someone?

And never lose your way?

How do you not run out of new things to say?"

Sniper looked for Spy's hand in the dark and when he found it, he laced his fingers through the Frenchman's. But soon Spy removed it and cupped Sniper's face. 

Gosh, he had removed his gloves, Sniper felt the naked touch of Spy's hands on his cheeks, his temples and through his hair above his ears. He pulled Sniper's face down, at his eye-level and their foreheads now touched. Spy frowned and shut his eyes as the drums woke up and powerfully pushed the rest of the orchestra to play more confidently. Sinatra's voice boomed.

"And oh! The way I feel for you is now or never!

The more I love, the more that I'm afraid,

That in your eyes I may not see forever!"

Sniper blushed to his ears that he felt were burning. He gulped down his dry throat and his lips parted to call for more air. His breath was short, fast, and sharp and he felt Spy's fingers claw on his head, through his hair. 

So that was the choice of Spy? A song named "How do you keep the music playing?", was it a question that he was really asking his lover? Was there more than just a song in this? 

When Sinatra finished and the orchestra waved goodbye, silence fell in the van and Sniper suddenly realised how loud Spy and him were breathing. 

"Je t'aime." 

[I love you.]

Sniper's eyebrows jumped. He looked down and saw Spy's eyes shining, glistening even… 

"Love you too, c'mere." 

The hug they shared lasted until they became tired of their posture on the bench and moved to the bed. They fell asleep as they usually did, a mess of intertwined limbs. 

[lu-undy]

A lil sad request: spy gets hurt on the battlefield like really hurt and he’s rushed to medic bay afterwards. And sniper not allowed to see him so he gets really worried and starts venting to demo that he might not ever see him again and he that blaming himself for lu getting injured. Only to have Interrupted by spy in cast who is very disappointed that mundy thinks he could killed so easily-

Here we go, a worried lil’ Aussie bloke :) Hope you like it!

"They've been in there for hours, can't I see him? I just want to see him!" 

"Nyet." 

Heavy was standing in front of the door to Medic's lab. His German friend had instructed him not to let anyone in, especially not Sniper.

"Ugh, mate, please…"

"Nyet." 

Sniper sighed and his shoulders sank. Heavy stood like a wall between him and Medic's lab.

"Is there anything I can do for you to let me in?" 

Heavy shook his head.

"Wanker…" Sniper turned his back and went away. 

Spy had been quite severely injured right at the end of the round so respawn did not fix it. All Sniper knew about it was what he saw of the incident. Spy was escaping the enemy Soldier and wanted to jump to a lower level of the map. However, Soldier had shot a rocket, making Spy jump higher than he had anticipated and he landed unconscious right at Sniper's feet as the Administrator announced their victory. 

Well, what is a victory when Spy's body was unconscious and covered in blood in Sniper's arms? 

Nothing is what it was, nothing, and certainly not a victory. 

Sniper went back to the base. He thought that a bit of time with his colleagues might manage to distract him from his worries about his lover. He sat on the couch in the living-room next to Demo and Soldier who were watching some American football on TV. 

"Hey, lad, fancy a beer?" Demo handed him a bottle but Sniper shook his head. "Is it Spy?" Demo asked, seeing his friend's distraught blue eyes behind the aviator glasses. 

"Yeah…" 

"No! He missed it!" Soldier shouted at the screen and both Sniper and Demo got startled. 

"C'mere, lad. You need a good chat." Demo stood up and pulled Sniper to follow him. He dragged him outside and they sat on the edge of the van, at the back, on the small step there. "So, what's wrong?" 

"He's still with Medic and I'm… I'm worried, ok?" 

"Yeah, I can see that. But don't you worry, I'm sure the doc' will fix him!" 

"Yeah, well…"

Demo squinted at Sniper. 

"The doc' always fixes us, why d'you still worry?" 

"I don't know… When he crashed next to me, I - it was terrible. His face was pale, more pale than usual but he was covered in blood and worst of all, he was completely unconscious. But what scares me now is that the doc' never spends that long with anyone, even when we break our bones… I can't help thinkin' something seriously bad has happened." 

Demo put a hand on Sniper's shoulder but the Aussie kept his head lowered, staring at his boots and the orange, dusty ground of the desert.

"Have you tried to ask Medic?" Demo asked. 

"I tried, but Heavy's at the door and he won't let me in…"

"Ah, yeah, well… D'you want me to go and ask? Maybe he'll let me go in?" 

Sniper's face brightened. 

"Y-yeah, please, ask him how Spy's doing and uh, how much longer before I see him, and ask him if-"

"Wow, wow, lad, calm down, eh?" Demo chuckled. "I'll do it all. Now, you stay here and," Demo stood up. "Ye don't move, alright?" 

Sniper nodded excitedly and he rested his chin on his palms, waiting for Demo to come back. The poor Aussie couldn't help taking a look at his watch every so often. He was naturally patient, but Spy had changed him a bit in that regard. 

Well, Spy had changed him a lot. First, he loved him back, and that was the biggest change in Sniper's life for a few decades at least. He wasn't one to go around wooing ladies or gents. He didn't like the whole process of dating. Having ideas where to take the person, getting ready for it, preparing everything and half of the time, ending up being stood up. Nah… He didn't like it. The way Sniper usually did it was in pubs. After a couple of drinks, no one is shy anymore and sheilas are easier to get and less picky. He'd play the solitary hunter who lives in a van and boom, as easy as a headshot, he'd find himself someone to spend the night with.

But that was about it. The next morning, they would be gone and wouldn't want more of him. Hell, to be honest, neither did he. How could you want more from someone that you just know the body of? 

Spy had broken that habit - or that curse. Sniper couldn't exactly recall how it happened but they got to know each other and spend more and more time with each other without it feeling like dates per se. They would show up in their Mann Co. uniforms and decide what to do on the spur of the moment. Spy showed him a few good movies, not always the kind that Sniper had expected him to like. He would reciprocate by showing him the stars at night and commenting at length on the godly night blanket under which Sniper slept. 

Not anymore, eh. They had started sleeping together and as curious as it had seemed for both of them, they had started by just sleeping. Sniper found it odd that Spy wouldn't be more forward but on his side of things, Spy just wanted that: some company. Sniper eventually understood it and they spent the sweetest nights with the most pleasant of dreams. They were living the dream, sleeping in each other's arms, one spooning the other, or one using the other's shoulder as a pillow, their limbs entangled. And they would wake up to hums, kisses and happy moans.

Sniper sighed and he grinned without realising it. He was in love with the Frenchman in a way that was so different, so pure, that it almost seemed childish. 

Of course, they had their needs and as such, they would indulge each other when they weren't too tired. Sniper had learnt a lot throughout the torrid nights with Spy. He had learnt about it as a general concept but also about himself. Spy showed him a lot without maybe knowing it. But now Sniper knew. He was lovable, his scars, bites and claw marks weren't a problem, his lack of Australia-shaped chest hair wasn't an issue at all and none of it made him less of a man. No, as it turned out, Spy showed extensively how much he loved them all, how he treasured every bit of his lover's body. And in his turn, Sniper had reciprocated.

"Sniper?" 

Demo's voice broke Sniper's daydreaming. 

"So, you saw him?" 

"Nah, Heavy didn't let me in but he went to ask and Medic said you could go and see for yerself."

"Oh, I'll go then, thanks, mate." 

"No problem, lad."

Sniper almost ran to Medic's quarters. Heavy had disappeared from the front door. He gave a knock and Medic answered. 

"Yes, Sniper, come in." 

"Hey, uh, can I see him?" 

Medic nodded. 

"Yes, you may. But-"

Sniper didn't wait for the end of the sentence and opened the door to the room Spy was in. 

"Spook?" 

Distress flashed across Sniper's face as he realised that the room was empty. 

"Where is he?" He entered. 

"Right behind you." The suave voice with the French accent answered and when Sniper turned and saw him, he threw himself at the injured man, squeezing him in a tight hug. 

"Oh my God, you got me worried so much!" 

"B-Bushman! Too strong, too strong!"

"Ah, sorry…" Sniper relaxed his hug and took a second to take in the view of Spy in his suit and - oh, a cast on his leg?

"I have to keep it for a few days." Spy said, seeing that Sniper had noticed. "But I have to go and see Medic everyday for it until I remove it." 

"Oh, ok… Does it still hurt?" 

"A bit, but much less than a few hours ago." 

"Gosh, I missed you so much, love…" 

Spy softened and let go of the crutches he was holding. They fell on the floor. He cupped Sniper's face with a tender smile. 

"I can see that on your face. But did you really think something that bad had happened?"

"Yeah, I mean, you were there for hours…"

"Because I argued with Medic."

"What?" 

"Can we sit down please? Resting on one leg is quite painful."

"S-sure." 

They took a seat on the chairs in the room. 

"Oui, I argued with him because he wanted me to stay here day and night."

"Why didn't you accept? If he thinks it's best for you then do it."

"And be nailed to this room without you for days? Non, I refused. And it took us a bit of quarrelling before we agreed on this solution." Spy pointed at the cast. 

"Oh… I see."

"Demoman came and told me you were worried to the bone." 

"Y-yeah, a bit." Sniper blushed and averted his gaze. Spy bent forward and took his lover's hand. 

"Do you think me that weak? After all we have been through already in this God forsaken company?"

"N-no, nah, I mean…"

Medic opened the door and interrupted them. 

"Now that the princess is rescued from her castle, do you mind leaving so that I can disinfect the place? Or maybe you changed your mind Spy, and you want to stay after all?" He taunted. 

"My leg is in a cast, but my hands are not and I can still use a knife or a gun, Medic." Spy stood up and caught the crutches that Medic threw at him. He walked to the man in the labcoat. "If I were you, I would watch my tongue." He added threateningly.

"Uh, thanks doc'." Sniper said to ease the atmosphere. 

"My absolute pleasure and delight…" Medic sarcastically added. "Always a pleasure to tend to a rotten spoilt child's wounds…" 

Spy turned and was about to answer but Sniper dragged him out and in a few minutes, they were back in Spy's smoking-room. 

"D'you want something? You hungry? Maybe a glass of water?" 

Spy smiled. 

"I may be injured but I am not crippled yet, so if I need anything, I am still capable of fetching it myself." 

Sniper blushed. 

"Sorry, I didn't want to offend you…"

"You didn't. Come next to me, please." 

They sat side by side on the sofa. 

"Please put the show that you like on TV."

"You want to watch it?" Sniper grabbed the remote and turned the TV screen on. 

"Oui." Spy leaned his head on Sniper's shoulder and threw away his gloves and his balaclava. 

"Thought you hated it." 

"Not more than being away from you for hours." Spy's hand found Sniper's and he held it dearly. "I… I missed you too, Sniper."

Sniper's blush went to his ears and he looked down at Spy. He looked gorgeous… The Aussie wrapped his arm around him and pulled him close. 

"Love you, Spook."

"So do I." 

Sniper's eyes were back on the screen when he felt a peck land shyly on his cheek before Spy's head settled on his shoulder.