Chapter Text
The BLU Team’s respawn was on the fritz. That’s what Spy had wrung out of them, at least, when they’d started to notice stray corpses staying stagnant for just a bit longer than necessary. Usually, you’d blink and they’d be gone, just blam, gone. But now? They’d started just staying ragdolled on whatever surface they’d gotten murked on. The other team seemed to be more than a little embarrassed by this, Scout had noticed the enemy Engie turn his head away from his own corpse, blotchy red painting his face. BLU Pyro didn’t seem to mind, Scout had seen him poking at his own body, and Scout was pretty sure he’d seen their Medic carting his own corpse by the leg after a particularly brutal miniwar.
It started like that.
Scout had managed to scramble up to a Sniper tower, sneaking in and blowing the other man’s brains across the wall. His head was mangled, just leaving enough of his chiseled jaw, even if the pleasant slope of his nose was unrecognizable, his dark brown eyes now a splatter on the wall. He’d hit the ground on his back, turning barely to aim at Scout before he’d let his gun fly.
And now there was a corpse in front of Scout. Mangled, unrecognizable, leaking gore across the floor. The worst part of it, was that Scout really had to get his crush on the other Sniper under control.
It wasn’t anything weird. If he’d told Medic about it, he’d go on some kind of psychological ramble that basically ended in; “Danger make brain go weird, danger make your dick hard,” or whatever. He’d heard the tail end of it, when he’d been defending his own sadistic tendencies to a half-listening, captive audience Demoman. So, it wasn’t weird. It was scientific. Psychological.
That’s what he’s telling himself, as he shamefully starts to shimmy out of his pants. He’d been harboring this weird dark fantasy since he’d found out about the BLU Team’s little issue, and it’d been causing a major issue in his spank bank. Like, the kind of issue those magazines would post if Tom Jones came out as a queer. He’d been grinding against his own hand as he imagined it being the unresponding noticeable bulge under the other Sniper’s khakis, wanting for more before the inevitable cold shower.
He’d kind of wished Sniper would be more present for their first time, but whatever. Beggars, choosers, etc.
His dick’s already hard, painfully so, as he clumsily straddles the Sniper. He lets down half his weight, then all of it when Sniper’s pelvis doesn’t cave in. His first few grinds end up being humps more than anything, trying to find a satisfying pace. He’d never really done this before, especially not with another person.
‘Person’ used loosely, given the rapidly cooling cadaver under him. He could feel the waterpark starting down there, his body beginning to respond to the fumbling stimuli, and finally, he found a proper pace. Sniper’s pants were light enough that if he leaked through his pants, he’d probably have to shoot him in the dick or something to hide it. Maybe the other man would feel it, like some kind of fucked up voodoo doll. Oh, God, maybe the other man could feel this, as his body knit itself back together. The thought had a soft groan wobbling out of Scout’s throat, and he bit his lip to silence himself.
He could not get caught. There was no way Sniper would be coming back up here, not where he just got his brains blown out, but if the others noticed him missing for too long in the man’s shack, someone would come find him.
It was a bit harder to work himself up to anywhere near his edge, nerves fraying his arousal slightly. He was definitely taking too long, but he couldn’t make himself stop . The realization of the fantasy that’d been haunting him for days too much to handle. Messily fucking his dick against the seam of Sniper’s pants, it felt like heaven. His head was swimming, lightheaded as he held his breath, a pathetic attempt to silence himself.
He doesn’t realize he has company, the world around him too quiet over the rush in his ears, until the door slams open. He whips his head over despite himself, shame rushing over him in an icy-hot wave as he stares at the man standing in the doorway.
Oh fuck.
He genuinely can’t fathom a worse case scenario. Sure, if any of the guys on his team caught him, he could wait out his contract with vicious, violent shame, and take the taunting on the chin. If any of the other BLU members saw him, nobody would believe them.
Sniper stands with his jaw slightly dropped, staring at him with his eyebrows raised into his hairline. Thick tension making the room gain a severe amount of pressure.
“Holy fuck, I am so- ” He squawks, starting to shove himself up, before being interrupted by a rifle being levelled directly at him.
“Stay there.” Sniper manages, tone strangled. “Don’t move.”
He slowly sat back down, not being able to stop the pathetic little whimper that formed in his chest. Objectively, if Sniper shot him, he’d pop back up at respawn. But well, then they’d never resolve… this.
“What do you think you’re doing?” He asks slowly, striding to the chair he’d been in, and sitting back down.
“I..” He starts, swallowing. “I don’t know.”
“I think you do.”
“I don’t.”
“You somehow didn’t know you were humping my damn corpse like a bitch in heat?” He glowers down at Scout, and Scout has never felt more wretched in his entire miserable life. His dick twitches.
“Yeah, I…I guess I was doin’ that.”
Sniper laughs, leaning back and running a hand over his mouth, letting it settle on his jaw. “You are fucked up. Did you know that?”
He nods uselessly, and Sniper barks another laugh. “Rhetorical question, kid.”
Oh, God .
“Take your briefs off.” He points the rifle back at Scout, and he hesitates, staring up at the other man like a deer in headlights.
“What?”
“I’m not askin’. You’re doin’ it, or I can blow your pretty lights out, and we’ll both forget this rendezvous.”
He takes another moment, before leaning back and shedding his underwear, wishing
he’d worn something less embarrassing than his tightie whities. Sniper whistles, poking his gun closer to his cunt, prodding his legs open slightly.
“Look at that.” He hums, a self satisfied grin on his face. “Y’get that wet for every corpse you see, or am I just special?”
Scout looks away, tears pricking the corners of his eyes, and Sniper taps his thigh again.
“Not rhetorical this time, keep up.”
“I’m not- I don’t have a thing for dead bodies.”
“So, just mine, then?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. Undo my buckle, nice and slow. ”
He looks at the alive Snipers belt buckle, starting to scoot closer, and Sniper jabs his rifle
hard against his stomach. “ Aht. Not me, stupid. The me you’ve been so satisfied using as your own little sex toy.”
Shaking hands undo Snipers belt, before he looks back at the man again. He can feel Sniper’s eyeroll.
“Well? Get my cock out.”
He shudders, but obeys, rolling anxiety keeping him in line. His brains running on about a quarter capacity, and he’s not sure he can make good decisions right now, especially not with the heavy weight of Sniper’s dick in his hand.
“Y’know, usually, I’d make you blow me a little first, but I can’t really feel that, can I? Can’t even get hard to make it worth the time.”
A vision of himself trying to fit Sniper’s soft dick in his mouth blooms in his imagination, and immediately flies into the darker recesses of his mind. For later.
“Right, well, we’re on a time limit.” Sniper lowers his gun, a bit of unspoken trust that Scout will behave. “Get on.”
“Get on?!” Scout chokes, looking back up at him. “How am I- I can’t just-”
“Y’can, and y’will.” He grunts, glowering down at him. “I don’t want to hear you complaining. I wanna see y’fuckin’ yourself on a dead man’s cock.”
Involuntarily, Scout groans, and Sniper grins. “Y’like that? When I remind you what a fucked up pervert you are? Getting off on necrophilia?”
Scout nods shamefully, and finally, puts himself back on top of the now cold corpse. He’s stiff, everywhere except for where it matters, and when he lines Sniper up with his entrance, it burns. Forcing the man’s dick inside himself, painful in the worst, and best way. He whines from the pain, and wipes his eyes, trying to force himself to grit his teeth through it.
“If you can’t do this, how are you supposed to take mine when it’s alive, Scout? You realize it’s not getting easier from here?”
“S’not gonna fit.” He chokes, and Sniper laughs, laughs at him.
“Make it.”
He wriggles down further, and after long, painful, clumsy moments, he passes the tight band in the entrance of his cunt, breaching him painfully. He sobs properly, overwhelming pain scratching a masochistic itch he didn’t know he had. He lets himself adjust, hands shaking where they’re braced on the other man’s buttonup. Sniper’s started breathing a bit heavier, but he can barely hear it over the sobs stuttering in his chest.
“Move when y’can, right? Don’t break yourself.”
It’s the first time Snipers been anything close to soft with him, and he laps it up like a dehydrated dog. Grinding his dick pitifully against the unkempt bush that was the hair around Sniper’s dick. He wasn’t sure how long it took, but eventually his body seemed to accept the intrusion, and with shaking thighs, he raised himself back up, beginning to messily fuck himself on Sniper’s dick.
“ Theeere you go. ” Sniper grunts, and Scout can’t make himself look at him. “Jack yourself off, cum on my cock.”
His hand starts the jerky movements on his dick, just what he likes when he’s trying to get off quick during a late night shower wank.
“Would make this last, if we had the time.” His voice is getting more taut, and Scout lets himself look at him, and realizes he’s palming himself through his slacks. He tries to respond, but all that really comes out is more warbled moans. “Keep it down. Do you want your team hearin’ you?”
The thought should be scarier than it is, but something is deeply wrong with Scout. He whimpers weakly, picturing the disgust, the taunts, the sideways glances, and groans weakly.
“You’re getting off on that, aren’t you? Y’gonna cum thinking about what a fucked up pervert you are? Shit, what happened to you, kid. Thought I was wrong for wantin’ to bend you over, but I bet you’d let me do whatever I want to you, huh?”
Scout cums with a choked sob, biting his lip in a weak attempt to silence himself. He squeezes his eyes shut as he finishes, the only thing he can hear aside from the distant gunfire and screams of his compatriots and enemies being Sniper’s groan. Maybe he came, maybe he didn’t, but the next thing he knows, he’s being pulled off of the dead one’s dick. Stood on his own two feet and dusted off.
“Satisfied?”
He nods, not trusting his own voice.
“You know where to find me.”
Then, Sniper blows his brains out, splattering them next to his own on the wall. When he respawns, he has a fleeting, excited flutter at the concept of Sniper using his body the same way, loose and wet and ready from Sniper’s corpse. That’s very quickly stifled, at the reminder that his respawn isn’t fucked up.
He deflates, right as Heavy screams at him to get back into action.