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Sniper had a set of proclivities everyone knew about. He liked his privacy, he liked his quiet, and he liked to not be touched. A tap on the shoulder was maybe permissible, but by all accounts even that could cross the line sometimes.
You really would need to pay attention to his body language on any given day to figure out what mood he was in, and people just couldn’t put that kind of effort in most days.
So, he got used to a lack of connection. His pre-existing interest in solitude didn’t help much in this field either. Which led to a lack of human contact and connection.
And he made peace with that.
He’d come to terms with that when he was young really. A long time ago he’d realized that he didn’t fit in with the other children who surrounded him. Something about him just inherently set up apart from how Australians were expected to be. Those expectations were already ingrained in how his peers were going to view him, and they did not hold back in letting him know that they looked down at him.
He quickly picked that they were never going to accept him into the fold, and it would be easier for him if he stopped trying to make his way into it. No amount of pushing or prodding on his part could get them to change their minds. They looked at him and made up their minds a long time ago. Who was he to try and change that?
Life was just easier if he pulled away from those around him and moved on with his life. He did what he needed to and kept to himself despite the push and pull of existence. The need to fill a quiet void was always going to be there, but he was never good at noticing the little details about himself.
Now, noticing them about the world? That was his life. That particular mindset was what enabled him to be so efficient with his job. His eyes were made to look for the slightest sign of victory, not to take notice of his own internal issues.
When he was constantly forced to be stuck in the quiet for hours on end it was easier to ignore the gnawing horrors made by his own mind than feed into them. If he let any of them slip into actual thought then he was more likely to mess up. And if all he had to him was his profession, what good would that do for him?
Such a simple philosophy that got him through the lonely nights where he wondered what it would be like to know the touch of another person. It was easier to hide from that answer than discover it and lose it just as quickly.
He wanted to have company but not have to run the risk of losing it. Because knowing that lose was always a threat was the greatest fear he could have. He may not have experienced it yet, when he joined RED team, but the idea was enough to make him recoil from the opportunities he was given.
There was a team to be around, yes, but they all had their own hook ups when trying to find companionship. Whether platonic or not, he didn’t see any of them as being a good fit for what he enjoyed about his life.
His camper was a good display of this. It was quiet, far away from others, and an area that belonged to him. Only he could control what came in and out of that camper, and the same could not be said of the people he learned to associate with.
However, he did teach himself to appreciate them.
Every class had something to them that a person would have to glean with time. These were all things that no first introduction could ever inform. Sniper had trained to see the bigger picture as soon as possible, but just as much to see the smaller quieter story too. He watched and waited and learned about the people around him. He took was he could and made new conclusions that maybe he could be okay with their company. That maybe he could be fine with the life he’d found himself in.
He biggest display of this miscalculation on his part was when he got to experience that physical contact.
He slipped up.
He let someone get close.
And he couldn’t handle the fact that he was with Scout of all conceivable people.
There were other options.
There were so clearly other options within RED team.
Yet he found himself letting his guard down around the loud mouth. He let his stupid grin seep into his bones and keep him up at night. He let this speedster mess with his head and mess with his shot.
Everything inside of him was screw up around the idea of Scout, and no amount of detail therein could escape him.
“Can I touch it?”
It was another night where Scout was laid out over his lap. They were in his camper and each of them were sitting there in silence. Sniper was spiraling in his own head while Scout kept move his legs. The shaking rolled itself into Sniper’s body and did help with the numbing panic that had found itself in him, but he needed to feel something physical to get the right jolt out of it. Though he hadn’t meant to blurt out the sentiment like that.
Scout’s eyebrow inclined before his eyes shot from his crotch to Sniper, “Touch what?”
“Not that you fuckin’ pervert.”
“Alright, alright, Jesus, can’t fault a guy for thinkin’ the obvious.”
“That’s not obvious and you know it.
“Sure, whatever you wanna think, but what do you mean? What are you imagin’ touching right now?”
Sniper’s fingers twitched slightly. His knuckles bending themself toward his palm while he felt his skin’s groove. “Your scar.”
“Oh.”
“Not what you were thinkin', right?”
“God your so freakin’ boring sometimes.”
“Don't be like that."
"No, I'm gonna be like this if I want to."
Sniper rolled his eyes, "You gonna let me see it or not?"
Scout loudly sighed as he stretched his body out. A bit of said scar appeared underneath the edge of his shirt as it’s fabric was pulled upwards. “So boring!”
“Don’t go and tempt me, Roo.”
“Me? Tempting?” He kept his body taught against Sniper’s legs. The mark still peaked itself out from under the red shirt. “I would never.”
Sniper gritted his teeth together while his fingers continued to twitch. Scout was good at this act. He clearly had his own set of ideas for how this night should go. He’d done his research and picked up on the right buttons to press for that outcome.
Though Sniper refused this temptation and instead placed his hand on top of the mark, but on the shirt. His thumb ran itself over the fabric and he could already feel that sense of buzzing that had him lit up light a wire going down. He knew it was too quick to of a reaction but the sensation of cloth and skin was at least a start.
“Come on!”
“I’m not doing this tonight.”
“Ugh, fine,” Scout sat up and yanked his shirt off. His figure quickly being displayed for Sniper’s viewing pleasure, but with a pouting face to show his disappointment. “If it’s what you want.”
Sniper mimicked the act, which got Scout’s face to perk up a little, before putting hid hand on top of the scar properly. His thumb began repeating the motion that he’d been doing before, but now he could feel the divet the darker flesh was formed in.
Scout’s breathes hitched slightly with the motion and opened his mouth to clearly say something, but no words came out. His eyes just traced themselves up and down Sniper’s arm. They even hesitated on Sniper’s own scars briefly before returning back to where he started.
They were both marked by death, after all.
Time had done enough to wear away at the damage they’d both suffered, but it would never be enough to take away the fact that their clocks had stopped. There was a time where the Grim Reaper took them by the hand and ushered them away from their teammates. They were detached from the world as they knew it, only to find themselves back in their damaged bodies once more.
The Reaper had showed them enough mercy to eventually find one another, and they would bare the wounds of this action until they had to meet him again.
Sniper leaned his head down to it’s level and started running his lip along Scout’s skin. He traced the outline of the damage, feeling it’s messy details and beginning to understand how deep it really ran, before he paused to start actively leaving kisses where he went.
Scout’s whole body shuddered with the action. He let out a small, “Holy shit.” before he balled his fists. He clutched the bed sheets while his leg began to bounce again. Though not out of any level of anxiety, but a need to express the new electricity he found in himself.
Sniper’s hand had never left Scout’s stomach though. Instead it had moved to the side and continued to caress Scout’s skin. This time it was able to pick up on the prominent ribs that he had. The grooves added a new sensation to the motion, but for Scout it made him squirm.
Sniper was taking in all of Scout that he could, and his partner wasn’t quite sure what to be feeling about it.
Scout’s body was everything to him then. It was a miracle of science and a mark against death. He had more power than anyone would be able to guess and Sniper was eating it up.
He held everything within him, and Sniper wanted to understand what that meant.
Sniper murmured against Scout’s skin while his lips refused to move away from it, “You’re beautiful.”
Scout bit down on his tongue while he felt tears welling up inside of him.
Handsome was nice but beautiful felt like the kind of praise no one would ever dare give him.
Sniper would never hesitate to say it though.
It was then followed up with, “You are my god.”
It was a bold statement to be sure. Especially since he and Scout had both discussed what they's seen after they'd kicked the bucket. They both agreed that there was a God in some sense. However, Sniper's testament to his partner was one of personal belief. He could acknowledge that both were true to him at once, after all.
Scout had saved his life in many ways. He'd taken him away from the empty well he'd built his life in, he'd enabled him to reconsidered his view of his team members, and now he was letting him learn everything that he could about him without inhibition.
He didn't need to quietly fear loneliness anymore. He knew what it was like to have someone at his side finally, and there was no concern inside him that he would be left behind now.
Scout found himself suddenly pinned against the bed. Sniper had finally prided himself away only worshiping the mark of death on his partner’s body. Now he was more interested in the whole figure.
His lips found themselves moving from Scout’s own lips to his neck. Small love bites being left all along the way as he took in the taste. His teeth suddenly becoming just as important as his lips as he ran them against Scout's soft skin. Kisses were one thing, but this was more permanent.
Multiple times he wondered if he’d dare to draw blood. He'd finally taken the last step to really knowing Scout inside and out, but he resisted.
He didn’t want to hurt his god tonight.
No, he just wanted to continue his education just in a far more personal and intimate way.
They’d both defeated death, after all.
Didn’t that make them both gods in their own right.
And what was the one thing gods deserved in the whole of the world.
To be worshiped by those that love them.
For which Sniper was more than happy to provide, and Scout was elated to receive it.
They’d both found someone to love them in all the messy and complicated ways that meant. Neither of them were ever going to deny that.
Even if it meant finding out what that love really meant.