Work Text:
Medic looked up from his book at a shrieking sound. Raising an eyebrow haphazardly, he glanced at his bird cages. None of his birds seemed to be in any danger...
He stood up, dog-earring the page in his book. He could return to that later once he figured out what the horrible noise was. He paced up and down the halls, listening closely at each door. The other mercs seemed to be making no noise whatsoever. After all, it was past midnight. Everyone else was most likely asleep.
Funny, the noise seemed to be coming from outside. He assumed it was some sort of weird animal of the desert. Medic turned back to his room, opening the door and making his way inside.
The noise was terribly loud in his room. It has faded when he went down the hall. Almost like it was right below his...
Medic walked to the window, unlocking it and snapping it open. Archimedes, his blood-spattered dove, perched on his shoulder when he leaned out the window, looking at the ground two stories below. He glared into the open into the dark for a while, hoping to find the source of the commotion. Unfortunately, it was too dark, so he couldn't make heads or tails of the blob below.
"Doc!" a familiar voice yelled frantically, the awful noise abruptly stopping. "Wait, no, don't throw that glass!"
Medic jolted in sudden realization, pitching the empty cup behind him and onto the bed. He hollered back tentatively, "Sniper! What are you doing?"
"Uh--" Sniper flitted about nervously, trying to figure out what to do with the object in his hands.
Medic shined a light on him, pushing his flashlight out and through the window. Through the light, Medic could see the Sniper was holding a saxophone, adorning his red shirt with the top buttons undone and vest abandoned, sunglasses hiding most of his flustered face.
"Oh, it was you making all that racket?" Medic asked in disbelief.
"Racket?" Sniper said defensively. "It was me playing my saxophone!" A brief silence passed between them, Medic looking at the Sniper with confusion while Sniper rocked on his heels. "I know I'm not very good, I haven't played since high school, but you don't have to go and call it bad..." He avoided Medic's stare. "Look, I'm here because... Because..."
"Well?" Medic said impatiently, leaning against the windowsill.
"I'm trying to entrance you!"
Medic looked taken aback once again. This time, it was he who was blushing. "Was?"
Sniper tilted his hat to hide what his glasses didn't cover of the redness of his face.
"Is- is that even the right word?" Medic asked unsurely, though the point of the message was clear.
"I don't know!" Sniper cried exasperatedly, arms in the air. His saxophone was now on the ground, as he had found it of no use anymore.
Medic grinned. "So you just thought that playing a sax and having your shirt partially unbuttoned would seduce me?"
"It was Spy's advice."
Medic heard a snorting, cackling sound in the distance. He turned his head to the nearest bush, where Spy had uncloaked. His face was just as red, but it was with laughter rather than hot embarrassment.
"My God, Bushman, you didn't follow my instructions at all. You were supposed to practice the piece I gave you to play first. And your glasses are crooked." Spy walked over to Sniper, adjusting his sunglasses, making Sniper look even more uncomfortable, almost embarrassed about having to be tidied up in front of the one he was trying to impress.
Medic smirked, head propped against his hand. "Sniper," he called.
"What?" He still wouldn't meet his gaze.
His smile was warm now. "Come to my dorm. We can talk."