Chapter Text
“Privet, Doctor!”
Ludwig startled at the exclamation towards him, turning towards the noise.
The large man that towered over him suited the full-bodied voice that called out to him.
“Oh, hallo! You must be the Heavy, ja?” Medic adjusted his glasses as he took in the details of his teammate.
Although his figure had softness, it was clear that the majority of his flesh was made up of muscle. A well-trained individual, but with a weak spot for seconds. The thought of that endeared Medic, although he made sure not to appear so amused. He felt that if he were to begin their interaction through a blunt observation of body type, he might not even last until the first battle.
“Correct. We have been tasked to aid each other on the field today! Engineer says doctor has fancy technologies for healing me during battle!”
Everything the Russian man said sounded more like a shout, and Medic wasn’t sure if it was intentional or if he simply suffered hearing loss from previous combat.
“Yes, the medi-gun. I am rather proud of it,” Medic beamed at the thought of his own medical equipment, “I am looking forward to testing out the prototype on the battlefield, hoo hoo! It won't be long before I will start implementing more of these technologies, some of which require some simple medical procedures, however I thought I would start myself off with something less… invasive,” the doctor couldn’t help but smirk at the end of his explanation.
He had a clear destination for certain surgery implementations, however the administrator had told him he would need to establish himself before he is allowed to experiment on the team. He thought it would be smart to spin it in a way in which it seemed like a choice on his part.
“Hah! Doctor is a funny man. Reminds me of evil scientist.” Heavy patted Medic’s back with an unintentional force that almost knocked the doctor to the ground.
Medic felt himself bristle a bit at the comment but chose to take it in stride, “Yes, I suppose you could see it that way. I simply view it as innovation,” the conversation died out beyond that as their attention was drawn to the upcoming fight.
In their first battle together, Medic did not find himself very attracted to the brute nature of Heavy’s work. Where he prided himself on efficiency of healing, Heavy prided himself on efficiency of death. Despite his medicine being wrought with its own brutality, Heavy’s get-in-and-go method was a bit of a shock to the doctor who had previously been comfortable in the backlines of combat.
Although he was not keen on the strategy of the Heavy, Medic had to admit that they performed exceptionally well together. This was not unnoticed by the Administrator, who began to assign the doctor to Heavy more often.
As they began to spend more of their time together, Medic was pleased to learn that Heavy was extremely well-read.
The German doctor came to realize that the man had about as much intellect as he did himself, although in different areas of study. Heavy’s job simply did not require it like Medic’s did, meaning it was a hidden aspect to the Russian's life that not many have been exposed to. Medic was unique in that he immersed himself in that side of Heavy, where most of their teammates turned a blind eye. It was a point of connection where originally he had thought there were none, and he was wont to cling onto those connections in people. He began to love hearing the Russian man talk about the nuances of literature between languages, and he knew that Heavy himself loved to hear Medic talk about his latest experiments.
As their friendship developed, they spent more time with each other during ceasefires through soft activities such as chess, baking, dinner dates, and book sharing.
Soon enough they found themselves tangled up in a domestic bliss that both men leaned into, even finding intimacy in such morbid acts as surgery, murder, and brutality. Their dynamic was something Medic was not used to, but he found himself enjoying it for what it was-gentle brutality, a perfect storm of brains and brawn.