Because a rivalry like this can only be the result of gratuitous unresolved sexual tension.
This tumblr is for the pairing of Team Fortress 2's Aussie Assassin Sniper and the Dashing French Rogue Spy. Please enjoy. Liberally.
Warning: This group is NSFW/18+
Managed by Ruumiinlaulaja and Zenami. Current icon is made by Sirbobjones.
Anonymous said: sniper spy ending up kissing from a chat
Drabble: Asexual Sniper
Written because I want my asexual friends to have nice things.
Sniper actually enjoys this, though not for the reasons one might naturally assume. He enjoys the feeling of holding Spy close to his own body; so close that not a movement goes by undetected. So close that Sniper can feel Spy’s pulse beating a rapid rhythm under the skin.
Hello everyone, here the sequel of “The handkerchief" , originally it had to be longer, but alas, my free time is short. Still will write more parts which will continue it!
Hints of Werewolf!Sniper and Vampire!Spy
If he was expecting some reaction, he surely wasn’t expecting that one.
Dawn was going to approach soon and there was an incredible, peaceful silence around him but for his troubled breathing, which mockingly echoed in the closed space of his van. There’ve been numerous nights in his life where he had not slept a wink, yet, although the one he just had had been quite rough -for so frankly saying- he never felt better, his mind was clear, he was lucid and finally accepted his new-found nature he had to face the evening before, right after the handkerchief accident. All the pieces found their right spot and he could at last explain his own behaviour in his past specific moments, all the reactions his body had, all those glimpses, all those sudden fast heartbeats… Since the very first moment he had locked his eyes with him, he had felt something, and that explains why he did not killed him, although it had looked so easy since his adored kukri was already dangerously brushing against his Adam’s apple. He remembered, then, how hard it’s been after having seen his eyes. Despite having lost, being abruptly pinned against the wall with a huge knife against his throat, after a battle which one could only be proud of, any way it ended, and willingly let go of his butterfly-knife because of the defeat, the Blu Spy’s eyes shone of pride, but L.J. could also clearly see panic and fear, fear of death (something the Red Sniper could deeply relate to), but not begging. And he could see also something else, something he couldn’t explain, not at the time and still not in that moment.
Lawrence exhaled one last long moan bending his head backward, pushing against his pillow as his back arched up, swimming in the last afterglow of the night. It took him few minutes to relax from the ecstatic twitching and the panting, and few more to let the nice breeze coming from the open window cool him down. The reviving feeling of release was still too inviting though, but he rolled over, pulling the blanket promeover his waist, totally forgetting the idea to search for the fourth orgasm. He probably had enough that night. Maybe…
When he opened his eyes again the sky was slowly taking a light tint of pale yellow and the breeze had warmed up slightly. The canyon around him was starting to appear in his visual, as well as the Red base, reminding him of the crushing reality. He closed them again taking a deep breath, trying to forget for few more moments about his contract and focusing on…… he bit his lower lip hard as the masked face of his friend appeared in his mind. A lusty tingling started to run through his body once again and he tried to ignore it with all his might, he rolled over facing the low ceiling of his bunk and pressed his hands over his face, slid them down rubbing his eyes with his fingertips to then press them against his temples. He breathed in deeply, trying to calm down.
He was exhausted and slightly terrorized.
Bloody hell, that damn handkerchief. He sighed and sat up letting his long legs dangle over the edge of the bed, he looked at himself and grimaced at how much he needed a shower since he was all sweaty and covered in other fluids in the front. His mind started to run again though, remembering that sweet smell he’s got so wildly intoxicated with the evening before, and he had to press the sheets over his lap to keep things down. Didn’t you have enough? He growled as he started to pant, leaning his forehead on one hand. Just remembering the smell drove him crazy and having the curse upon himself didn’t help: his sense of smell was unbelievably developed, even when he wasn’t in his other state, the state of long fur, deadly claws and terrible fangs; and he had no problems in recognizing Spy’s most intimate smell. And he totally lost it since then.
He jumped off the bunk, carefully holding on the edge feeling his legs weak, and headed to his bathroom to have an ice cold shower. As he felt the cold water running on his skin, he relaxed and his mind cleared up, but he was shaking, not for the temperature, but for a realization. How was he going to face his friend from that moment?
He felt overwhelmed by his thoughts, his worries, he felt too nervous even to move, anxious, agitated, his chest started aching from his panting and his throat fell dry in seconds. He pressed his hands against his temples and tried to lean against the wall, his elbow touched the valve and the iced water turned in no time into hell-hot, making him yell and jump out of the tiny space of the shower, cursing and damning hydraulics. Yet, that shock helped him quite a lot: he proudly stood up, his hands on his naked hips, his lips pursed and he nodded contently. L.J. took a deep breath, closed the water and grabbed the towel covering himself. I’m going to ask him out for a … date. He rushed to get dressed, not caring if it was going to end badly at all, they could always be friends after all, he knew Jean enough to be perfectly sure that the Spy would accept him no matter what. He grabbed his work jeans and started dressing, but closing the zip he found a little hitch in the way despite the underwear. Are you freaking kidding me?! Again? He frowned down at his groin.
Puffing and rubbing the palm of his hand over his eye, Spy was glad he had left the window open that night. It was still dark outside, but he heard the familiar rhythmical noise of Thomas’ steps down the corridor few minutes earlier, as the good soldier his brother was, he always got up before dawn to go for his personal training in the tiny gym their base had.
Jean-Claude sat up letting the sheets fall over his lap, rubbed his temples and blinked few times. He was still slightly shaken by the last dream he had and couldn’t quite snap out of it. He forgot when was the last time he had such dreams… so vivid, so real… so…forbidden… and with a person he really cared for… He puffed annoyed and leaned over to grab a cigarette from his nightstand, but as he brought it to his lips, ready to light it up with his lighter, he stopped as a voice echoed in his head. L.J. disliked cigarettes a lot.
He looked down at his hands, at his lighter, then at the cigarette. His hands dropped on his lap as he spit the little cylinder over the edge of the bed, soon followed by the lighter, both rolling away on the wooden floor. Jean then looked at the little case on the nightstand containing the rest of his cigarettes and couldn’t avoid smirking to himself as he flicked it with his finger sending it on the floor too. After all, he had decided to quit smoking weeks ago.
He laid back down with his hands behind his head taking deep breaths of the fresh night air coming in from the window. Much better than smoke indeed. Since the day they started hanging together, he noticed his habit had tailed off and he had bought less and less cigarettes packs. Being around James had simply enhanced his life style. That man was somehow his saviour and he didn’t dare to take out a cig in his presence, risking to offend him. That man, the one he was supposed to uselessly kill over and over for a society he was trying to destroy from inside, had offered him something no one, outside his family, had ever even imagined to in several years: his trust, and so his friendship. In few days they had started meeting, in few weeks they started acting like they were on the same side, in no one’s team, in few months they seemed so close to look like old childhood friends. Strangely, Jean had been the first to show deep trust in him revealing his face tossing his hateful mask aside, his face, which only his brother had seen after the incident, and the Aussie had not shown any hate for him, just a big understanding smile and careful protecting hand over his ruined cheek. In exchange, James had shown him his eyes, his beautiful heterochromatic eyes, his alert right green one and his left half-blind ice-blue one. His own left eye was ruined as well since the incident, he couldn’t see well from it either, but not as badly as L.J.. Despite that, the Red Sniper was a marvellous man… Jean-Claude suddenly looked at his hands feeling his claws getting loose from the imposition he set on himself and seeing that show made him feel unworthy of his friendship. He had revealed his most inner secrets to him but the curse upon himself… L.J. had to know. About the curse and about… something else. But first the curse, and if L.J. still accepted him as friend after it, Jean-Claude would take another step further and seriously talk to him. It was a good thing he never wore a shirt in those periods of the month where he had to let himself be engulfed by the curse to relieve himself from stress and tension, so he let himself go, letting his body change and slowly transform as he felt his little fingers grow in length stretching the wings’ membrane from his sides, his other fingers getting webbed by another thin membrane, his ears stretching backward getting pointed and way more sensitive, and his teeth getting slightly sharper. Having a body of a soldier helped, his clothes did not burst each time he transformed, his muscles were enough already and well hidden under his Spy coat.
He covered himself with his wings, his arm tight around his torso, and his mind tried to get back to the dream, where he craved for physical contact and affection, where he could offer protection to the lonely figure roaming in the dreamland and where he could finally see his face as the figure turned toward him.
He needed to talk to Lawrence James as soon as possible, but first, he needed to let his still going, hard erection relax or he wouldn’t be able to walk that day.