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The BLU team base was still and quiet, silence only disrupted by the sound of the various desert bugs whose songs seeped in through the open windows. It was hot and humid, as to be expected in the desert even in the late evening. Most of the windows around base were open, letting in what little refreshing breeze the badlands reluctantly coughed up, along with the fervent chirping of bugs and howling of coyotes.
This was no exception in Heavy and Medic’s room. The couple had retired to their quarters after finishing a card game with their teammates, many of their compatriots doing the same.
The two lay together on their bed, sitting above the covers in hopes to stave off the heat. Medic had swapped his stuffy three piece suit in favor of a tank top and blue pin stripe boxers. Despite the heat the doctor was determined to get the affection he so needed from his partner, laying atop Heavy with his face pressed to the bear’s hairy chest, rising and falling with Heavy’s every breath. He was slowly drifting off, soothed by the sound of his beloved’s steady heartbeat and the relaxing breeze that flowed in through their open window.
Heavy on the other hand wasn’t quite ready for bed. A book was clutched in his hand and his crescent reading glasses were perched on the bridge of his nose. One of the many fans that Engi had been erecting around the base sat by their bedside, little blue tassels blowing in its man-made wind, courtesy of Pyro. As refreshing as its breeze was, it annoyingly blew the pages in Heavy’s book askew every time it turned its head to face the couple. The Russian raised his free hand from where it had been stroking Medic’s back comfortingly to hold down the pages of his book.
Medic grumbled softly against Heavy’s plush chest once he realized that the bear wouldn’t be putting his hand back. He longed for proximity to his partner as the heat had subtly drawn them apart, especially when it came to surgery.
In the colder climate bases, sticking his hands in Heavy’s chest cavity, so alive with warm blood and organs, felt like a great reward after a long day on the battlefield. But now, under the great, hot, humidity of the badlands, tending to his organ experiments and doing maintenance on his beloved felt like a great chore. The once comforting and appealing heat of Heavy’s internals now felt boiling; what was once akin to slipping on a warm pair of mittens was now like putting his hands in a very sticky oven.
Heavy felt similarly, finding himself craving the feeling of his doctor’s hands caressing his guts and playfully squeezing his heart less and less. Too bothered by the heat to want to sit under the warm beam of the Medigun for the time it took for his lover to toy with his insides, despite how much he missed it.
“Прости меня, любовь моя,” Heavy hummed softly in response to his doctor’s complaint. He shifted Medic up slightly so that he could press a few kisses to his lover’s head and hair, hoping that would make it up to the German. It seemed to do the trick as Medic murmured a soft sound of happiness, cuddling closer with a pleased look on his face. Heavy smiled in return, just about to turn back to his book when he heard a knock at the door.
It wasn’t unheard of for one of their teammates to seek out the couple’s company at night, given that they weren’t busy with… other bedroom related activities. Usually for the purpose of staving off bad dreams or simply driving away loneliness.
“кто это?” Heavy called just loud enough to be heard through the door. There was no verbal reply to the question and Heavy worried for a moment that he’d have to try and translate what he was saying into English. It was far too late in the evening to be speaking anything but his native tongue.
But, to heavy’s relief the door opened. He waited for the visitor to poke their head in and greet the two of them, but no one ever did. His brow knit in confusion, wondering distantly if Solly had pissed off Merasmus again and he’d unleashed a plague of ghosts on their base. Or perhaps it was Zepheniah Mann’s spirit, unable to rest peacefully knowing there were homosexuals fighting in his war.
However, Heavy was able to ascertain what was actually happening when he noticed how a patch of his vision shifted in front of the door and warped in a strange, but all the same, familiar way. Heavy smiled as he recognized the visitor, leaning down to whisper in Medic’s ear.
“Doktor, there is Spy around,” Heavy chuckled jokingly in Russian. As a rule, Heavy never invited any teammates into their bed without first getting Medic’s approval, just as the doctor did for him. Medic smiled softly against Heavy’s chest, still wafting in and out of consciousness, but awake enough to nod approvingly at the idea of Spy’s company. At the confirmation Heavy turned back to where he thought Spy was standing, raising a hand from his book to wave the invisible man over.
“Иди сюда, маленький ворон,” Heavy hummed softly, pleased it had been Spy who’d come for company as he was the only member of the team, besides Medic, who could understand Russian. At Heavy’s call the bedroom door clicked shut, seemingly on its own. The giant scanned the room for Spy to no avail, having lost track of him as soon as he turned to talk to his partner. That was until the bed dipped under the double agent’s weight, giving away his location as he crawled onto it. Heavy watched the way the pressure of Spy’s hands and knees created divots in the mattress as he clambered to the Russians side, not unlike footprints in fresh snow.
The thick scent of cigarette smoke and expensive imported French cologne filled the air as Heavy felt Spy settle against his side, picturing in his head how the Frenchman must look curled up in the crook of his arm. Heavy hummed warmly, rapping his arm securely around Spy and pressing his cheek against the crown of his head. To Heavy’s surprise he felt sleek hair against his skin, as well as a few wiry grays. He was flattered knowing that Spy felt safe enough around them to go without his mask, even if he intended on staying cloaked the whole time.
Heavy nuzzled the Frenchman affectionately before turning back to his book, careful not to knock his cloak out of effect as he did. The giant curled his arm tighter around Spy, drawing the Frenchman closer so that he could return his hand to his book, fighting with the pages that had been blown awry since letting them go.
Heavy could feel the way Spy squirmed in his hold in an attempt to get more comfortable, the luxurious silk fabric of his robe refreshingly cool against the bear’s skin. Spy finally settled with his face pressed to Heavy’s neck, his stubble scraping against the Russian’s skin as he wriggled closer. With Spy content, Heavy turned back to his book, making sure to press a few kisses to the top of a mostly asleep Medic’s head, so as not to neglect him.
After a few minutes of reading, Heavy felt something tug on his hand. He’d startled, having nearly forgotten that Spy was there with how quiet and literally invisible he was. It took another yank from Spy to understand that he was trying to get a better view of Heavy’s reading material. It was easy to forget that the man wasn’t only fluent in speaking other languages but reading them as well. Heavy happily tilted his book to the side for Spy to see. It was one that the double agent had borrowed from Heavy before and he’d had many good things to say about it.
The two read together for a decent while, listening to the whirring of the fan, the chirping of the desert bugs and the soft snores that came from Medic. Most of the time Heavy would flip the pages, occasionally fighting the fan when he did, but sometimes Spy would do the task instead. The absurd visual of a book flipping its own pages putting an amused smile on Heavy’s face.
After a short while Medic roused from his light slumber with a brief yawn. He rose his head from his lover’s chest, letting his eyes lazily survey the dimly lit room, gaze blurry without his glasses.
“I zought zat Spy vas going to join us,” Medic murmured softly, his voice raspy from sleep.
“Да, он прямо здесь,” Heavy hummed amusedly in reply, nodding to where Spy was curled under his arm. Medic’s gaze followed the gesture, squinting at the blank space before him with a confused look, mind too foggy with sleep to understand. Although, he seemed to get it when Spy reached forward, taking the doctor’s cheek in his palm.
“Oh,” he mumbled in understanding, leaning into Spy’s touch with a wide grin, the cold metal of the Frenchman’s cloak and dagger pressing against his skin. He enjoyed the soft feel of the double agent’s smooth, uncalloused hands, protected for years by his trusted leather gloves. Spy soon pulled his hand away, curling up tighter against Heavy’s side, intending to return to reading.
Medic, however, wasn’t so keen on letting the affection go. He lazily raised his arm, blindly searching for Spy by patting at the area he thought the Frenchman was occupying. He first made contact with Spy’s shin, tracing up his leg before finding his way to one of Spy’s hands. Heavy chuckled a little when he felt Spy huff a soft exasperated sigh against his neck, practically hearing his eyes roll. But despite this the double agent didn’t turn him away, taking the doctor’s hand in his own, making it look as though Medic’s arm was suspended in mid air when in reality it lay comfortably against Spy’s chest.
Satisfied with the affection, Medic laid his head back down against Heavy’s chest, a pleased smile all across his face. Heavy hummed contentedly at his partner’s joy, leaning down to once again kiss him on the crown of his head.
It wasn’t long after that Heavy and Spy turned back to their book, once again reading in silence for a decently long while. Heavy smiled when he noticed Spy playing with Medic’s fingers out of the corner of his eye, flexing and bending each dexterous digit in playful fidgeting. It was only after another half hour or so of reading that Heavy yawned long and wide, not looking all that different from his usual bear likeness when he opened his maw to such an extent.
“Leetle crow stay night?” Heavy asked in drowsy English, so tired he’d forgotten that Spy didn’t need his poor excuse for an English translation. Spy didn’t mind the mistake, though, as he only nodded against where he was tucked up to Heavy’s collar.
“Да, хорошо,” Heavy muttered in reply, his eyelids hanging heavily over his clear blue eyes, threatening to close against his will. He drowsily reached over to his nightstand, producing a little drawing of Medic he’d been gifted from Scout to use as a bookmark. Shutting the book, the bear placed it aside, along with his crescent reading glasses. He turned his bedside lamp off before reaching behind Spy to switch off the one on Medic’s nightstand.
Even though they technically had individual sides of the bed the couple typically spent their nights so tightly intertwined that it rendered such a concept meaningless. The most separate thing about their sleeping arrangement was their nightstands. Heavy’s was home to a collection of various books in Russian, English and German as well as his reading glasses. Tucked beneath the small end table was a sleep apnea machine that Medic had made with help from Engi, which the giant used occasionally when he was having particularly bad sleep.
Medic’s nightstand on the other hand was covered in an expansive collection of pill bottles of many different shapes, sizes, colors, languages and pharmacies. As far as Heavy could tell his lover took none of which, aside from the occasional ibuprofen or viagra. The bottles for which had been graciously bedazzled by Pyro so that the doctor would stop losing them in the sea of bottles he kept around seemingly for show. And of course the end table was home to his glasses, as well as a cache of condoms in the top drawer that all of their teammates had stolen from at least once.
As Heavy was reaching for the lamp, careful not to knock over any of his lover's many bottles, he apparently reached too far. His chest twisted in such a way that Medic rolled off of him and landed flatly atop Spy. For the first time that evening the Frenchman made a sound, somewhere between a grunt and a yelp of surprise; the impact was just enough to make his cloak falter for a second, allowing Heavy to see his eyes wide open with surprise. Heavy chuckled as Spy scrambled to pry the doctor off of himself, to which Medic was being no help, having woken from the commotion only to purposely be difficult for his own amusement.
Eventually, Spy managed to shift Medic off of himself and onto the unoccupied side of the bed, cursing the German the whole time, only met by the doctor’s giggles. Heavy chuckled along with his lover, finally managing to switch the lamp off and plunging the room into darkness, aside from the moon light that peered in at them through the window. Medic’s giggles turned into startled yelps as he began writhing around the bed, trying to hold back barks of laughter.
“He is pinching me!” Medic exclaimed through bright peels of laughter as he tried to fend off Spy’s attack with little luck, the Frenchman’s own barely restrained giggles hardly audible in the struggle.
“I did not know you let a crab into our bed!” Medic giggled wildly as Heavy wrapped his arms around the both of them, putting the play fighting to rest. For as cute as his doctor’s glee was, Heavy was tired and ready to sleep peacefully beside his lover and friend. The two supports settled easily, calmed by Heavy’s soothing demeanor.
The three shifted around slightly until they were all adequately comfortable with their Spy sandwich. The double agent rested his head against the doctor’s broad chest and his back was pressed securely against Heavy’s front, thoroughly wedged between the two.
“Спокойной ночи, мой дорогой,” Heavy crooned softly, leaning forward over Spy’s head to kiss his lover good night.
"Gute nacht, mein Kuschelbär,” Medic mumbled in return before accepting the kiss with a pleased hum. Spy let them be, not wanting to get between the couple more than he already had, literally. However, the wet sounds of their affection soon became grading and Spy put his hand against Medic’s jaw, jostling him just enough to end the two’s gentle kissing.
Medic only giggled amusedly at the interruption. “Aww, vere ve getting carried avay? Or is it zat ze little Spy jealous?” Medic asked teasingly. He curled closer to the Frenchman, placing a playful kiss on Spy’s cheek as a means to poke fun at him with Heavy doing the same. However, in his invisible state the two were guessing as to where Spy’s cheeks actually were. Medic pressing his kiss closer to Spy’s temple, near his hair line and Heavy’s landing on the crow’s feet that crinkled around the double agent’s eye.
Spy writhed at the attention, making overblown gagging sounds at the couple’s doting, causing the two to chuckle at his exaggerated acting. The Frenchman reared away from Medic, laying closer to Heavy’s broad chest as he did in order to yank at the doctor’s night shirt, using it to wipe away the remains of their show of endearment, only making them giggle more. It was rather well known that the double agent wasn’t particularly fond of giving or receiving kisses from anyone on the team but his son, but he was known to put up with it on the rare occasion, knowing his teammates were only teasing.
Eventually the commotion and laughter in the room settled down, Medic letting out a long yawn with it spreading contagiously to Heavy and then to Spy. Heavy wrapped his arms tighter around the two supports, drawing them closer together as a cool breeze wafted in through the open window, settling comfortingly over the three. They’d foregone blankets, however their shared body heat would be plenty to keep them warm, especially with the desert heat still hanging heavy in the air.
Spy let out a long relaxed breath, pleasantly warm and comfortable, his rampant insomnia pushed at bay for once. The feeling of safety at being surrounded by the embrace of his beloved teammates more than made up for the teasing and he could feel himself slowly drift off.
“Спокойной ночи.”
“Gute nacht.”
“Bonne nuit, je t'aime.”