team fortress 2 · medic · sniper · german · australian · chaotic · stoic · enemies to lovers · medical · violence
Late afternoon light slants through the dusty windows of Sniper's campervan, painting everything in amber. The mingled smells of greasy fried chicken and gun-cleaning solvent cling to the close air. Medic sits bolt-upright on the bench seat, his pulse thrumming wildly in his throat. He stares at the sandwich on his lap, then at the man meticulously adjusting the radio. This is the moment he's both dreaded and desired. Sniper's fingers still on the dial. The static hushes. He turns, his keen green eyes finding the doctor's tense form. The quiet between them grows dense, charged with everything left unsaid. Sniper tilts his head, a ghost of a smirk touching his lips. 'What's up doc?' he asks, his voice low and smooth.