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It was yet another hot and scorching day on the dry battlefield. You were situated in your usual place, behind everybody and putting the final finishing shot in quite a few number of bodies where the rest of them got sloppy. Without you, who knows what that half-dead MEdic could do. At least sending them to respawn gave the whole team just a little bit more time to get the point.
Boom.
Boom.
Boom.
Headshot after headshot followed you like an angel of death. The least you could offer them was a quick death, of which, they seemed to be thankful for. It wasn’t typically a common courtesy on the battlegrounds.
It was at the final point that you finally caught up with your amazing and only Fritz along with the rest of the mercs. He was carefully healing everybody before the match ended so they wouldn’t have to crowd up the medbay afterwords. The second he saw you, the soothing red MediGun beam was focused on you as it healed a few bruises and grazes that you had gained in struggles not shortly far behind. The sensation not unlike a giant heating pad. Even in this desert heat, it was still a soothing comfort.
Soon, he was back to the others as you started up a conversation with Scout. His hands flying about to give emphasis to the tall story he’s telling you.
“And then I says to her, I says-” Scout cut off his obviously fake gang story when he sees Medic behind you. His mouth shutting up likely due to a look Medic is giving him.
Medic tapped on your shoulder lightly before you turned around to face the 6’3” man, “Come vith me, Meine Liebe, I want to tell you somezhing,” He slowly told you as if he was getting the accent on his tongue right.
After following him into an alley with your smaller hand clutched in his, almost away from the group, he grabbed your chin and gently raised it up in a strange gentleman like manner before revealing a sinister smirk and changing into that bastard of a BLU spy, the height at which he was held only dropping half an inch. The compact butterfly knife efficiently slicing your throat as a look of betrayal was plastered on your face.
Then, dizziness, blurred vision, and a red glove on your hand were your next sensations. It seemed that Fritz was also killed and sent to respawn. A curt nod was exchanged before the two of you were running back to the control point with cracked dust and fast breaths filling the still air.
By the time you got back up to the furthest point, your Fritz was behind you and the Spy’s body lay dead in a pool of his own red blood while the control point turned red, signaling the end of the match along with the loudspeakers carrying over the cold and almost mechanical voice of the administrator.
Fritz slowly took you by the hand without his gloves on, his large fingers interlacing with yours. Once all the weapons were all packed up and everyone was in their casual and comfortable clothing, Fritz led you to his single bedroom which was so close to the medbay that sometimes he slept there instead of his bed.
Once at his room, however, he signalled for you to lay down with a wave of his hand, where he promptly flopped down gently on the double bed on top of you, groaning something about sore muscles from carrying the MediGun all day without a break. His whining was high-pitched and reverberated through your own muscles.
That’s when you got an amazing idea in your head. Why not take the time to massage him? Surely the touch-starved German wouldn’t oppose to any form of skin on skin contact when it came to you.
“Hey, Fritz?” You asked while he breathed in your scent deeply through a great sigh, filling his lungs with as much air as possible.
“Mmhmm?” He groaned.
“If your muscles are sore, why not a massage?” You tilted your head to look down at him, stopping your slow petting of his salt and peppered head.
“Zhat sounds like a great idea,” Fritz lifted himself off of you slowly, “Let me get ready while you get some coconut oil from zhe kitchen,” he seemed quite happy at the prospect of anything to relieve his sore muscles. A content smile graced both of your faces as the two of you went to work getting the supplies ready.
Fritz calmly started taking off his white dress shirt without the usual red tie while you went off to the kitchen to grab some coconut oil from the pantry above the oven before heating it up in the microwave across the small space on the counter with a few short taps of some buttons for several seconds.
Once the microwave was finished, you tested the heat of the oil by dipping some on your inner wrist and deemed it at a safe temperature. Making your way back to the small bedroom where Fritz lay on his stomach with his glasses off and pants on with a sleepy expression already plastered on his adorable face.
Slowly straddling his toned back, you rubbed the oil over his back with your hands. Once that was applied, you used your elbow in between his shoulder blades to get rid of the knots there before applying pressure with the heel of your palm. Soft moans and groans escaped Fritz, letting you know that you hit just the right spots.
Following a simple routine all up and down his back you got off half an hour later to find Fritz dead asleep and lightly snoring. You cautiously kissed his head, feeling a slight stir as he tried to convince you that he was still asleep. Fritz, however, was a light sleeper. So much so that a small change in temperature caused him to wake up.
“Goodnight, sweet prince,” you whispered with love, seeing a small smile crawl onto his face before you slowly slipped in between him and the bed again. Falling asleep just like that with cooling coconut oil on Fritz’s back and his large body enveloping you.