After another in a series of losses, Demoman and Sniper retire to their quarters for a lie-in until dinner, to cuddle and relax. They get talking, and reflect on their relationship, what their actual anniversary is to them, judicious usage of magic items, how Sniper actually did have lycanthropy for like a week there, and their life together.
Sweet fluff, and a small showcase of the rollercoaster that is Demoman's emotional state at any given moment.
Part of Monstrous Intent!
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"You've failed!"
The slamming of locker doors clanged off of the tile walls and floors, it and the shuffle of feet reverberating through the Builder's League United locker room. The BLU team trundled into the showers, wholly beaten and exhausted. Respawn could do a lot of things, but it couldn't conquer fatigue nor the death or morale.
"What a miserable match," Pyro sighed, turning on the water and yelping, then hopping out of the line of fire to wait for the water to heat up. He ignored Spy snickering as he passed by. "Shit, I always forget it's so cold at first."
"'s what you get for never showerin' after matches," Scout teased, letting the initial blast of cold from his shower head hit him square in the face.
"Surprised you're joinin' us now," Sniper mused. He popped open his shampoo as the water beat down at his hair.
"I don't need to shower," Pyro hummed, reaching a hand out to check the water's temperature, frowning as it slowly began to warm. "But since everyone knows what I look like now, it seems silly not to join everyone."
"Py wants to get in on the victory gangbangs," Scout explained, lathering shampoo into his fur.
Pyro shot him a frown of betrayal, but Sniper couldn't help but whoop a laugh. "Looks like we've gotta step our game up then, with this losin' streak."
"I've got shit timing," Pyro said with a chuckle, finally satisfied enough with the water's heat to step into it.
Sniper cocked an eyebrow at the sight. Pyro couldn't be doused, but he'd seen how he'd burned in cooler colours in Engineer's pool. Here, with the shower's spray pelting him, his flaming flesh prickled with dark and light spots, colour seeming to ebb and flow of its own accord with each droplet's contact as it cooled his skin for a short moment before the heat flooded back. It was strangely lovely, and a smile crossed his lips. Engineer was a lucky bloke.
"Oi, yer watchin' the wrong show," Demoman chided Sniper, slapping his lover's wet back with a soapy hand.
Turning to Demoman, Sniper chuckled, pleased to see his partner facing away from him, looking back over one shoulder to be sure he was being watched. He wiggled his bum at the bushman with a grin, backing toward him until he made contact with Sniper's hip, pushing him just gently enough to not knock him off of his feet on the slippery tiles. Sniper replied by grabbing a handful and giving him an ample squeeze. "Your room after this?"
Demoman hummed his pleasure at the firm grip on his bottom. He flexed a bit in Sniper's hands. "Aye, I'm knackered. I'd like a lie-in with ye til dinner, if ye please."
"Sounds right lovely," Sniper replied, releasing him and following up with a light spank. Fatigue tugged at all of his joints, and the heat of the water only served to lull him further. A nap with Demoman sounded the perfect way to spend the rest of the afternoon.
"It's a date, then," Demoman said with a grin.
*
The door swung closed with an unassuming click, Demoman's fatigue too great to even muster a good slam. He wasn't even frustrated with the day's loss anymore, just utterly exhausted. His bed looked like heaven itself. He dumped his dirty laundry in the hamper he kept in the corner and dropped the towel from around his waist, leaving it on the floor. With little more ceremony, he flopped onto the creaky mattress with a sigh.
To call it his bed these days would be a gross misnomer. Hell, to call them just his quarters would be an outright lie at this point. After all, Sniper had also dumped his laundry into the same hamper, set his hat and sunglasses on the small writing desk that beside the door, let his towel fall, and followed suit, sagging onto the bed like a bag of sand, mostly amorphous as he slumped against the bomber's warm body. They'd been sharing quarters basically since their relationship became official, Sniper's quarters used mostly as a place to park the things he didn't need every day and didn't just keep in his ute. Their clothes, their tools, their weapons; those all lived in Demoman's quarters. Their quarters.
Sniper wriggled his way between Demoman's arm and torso, resting his head on the man's chest and draping an arm and a leg over him. He sighed contentedly, holding his lover close with what little energy he had left, letting his eyes drift closed. "Mmm, perfect."
"That ye are," Demoman teased, yanking his eyepatch off and tossing it onto the night stand. He rubbed at his forehead where the strap crossed and let out a long yawn.
A soft laugh rose in Sniper's chest, the assassin pulling his arm back a bit to lay a hand flat upon Demoman's chest and lightly tickle through the sparse curls that dusted it. His skin was always so warm, and the scrawny assassin had been especially glad for it throughout their last assignment at Coldfront. "Thank the gods Truckie got the aircon workin'. That was a bloody nightmare findin' it down when we got 'ere."
"Ye've said it a hundred times and honestly I cannae disagree," Demoman teased. "Dinnae ken what I'd do if it were too hot tae lie here with ye."
"Go bloody mad, likely."
"Absolutely. Have tae be able tae touch ye." Demoman wrapped his arm tightly around Sniper and tugged him closer. "I need ye like I need air."
"Dramatic," Sniper teased, pressing a kiss to Demoman's chest.
"Honest, still."
"Can't say as I disagree. You've got me hooked," Sniper chuckled, his hand petting slow circles on the bomber's chest. His fingers brushed against the cameo of his periapt of hybrid form, the motion making the necklace's chain jingle softly in the quiet room. "Wearin' this to work?"
"Tryin' tae get used tae havin' it on under me clothes," Demoman explained, looking down at the necklace and letting his fingertips dance over the cameo to tease at Sniper's fingers. He covered the assassin's hand with his own and gave it a gentle squeeze, lingering there. "Dinnae want tae forget tae wear it."
"Wearin' it all the time, then?"
"Aye, just in case. This bauble's for fun, sure, but it's also a weapon I can have on-hand no matter what."
"You're still freaked out by the yeti thing."
"Absolutely. When it was the Jersey Devil, I had me stickies. I had Eyelander. I had the best possible chance o' protectin' ye given the situation at hand, and I dinnae regret the fight I put up. A lot more was goin' on there what ended up with us half-dead. But in that cave? Couldnae use explosives or I'd risk bringin' the mountain down on us. Didnae have space for a sword big enough tae make the great bastard think twice. What if we'd accidentally wandered out o' respawn range and didn't ken? What if that yeti'd gotten violent with ye? What if he'd nae wanted tae bargain at all? What if he decided tae just toss me arse off the cliff and keep ye after all?"
"And with the wolf on hand, you'll never be completely disarmed."
"Exactly. Keep at least an hour of time on the necklace at all times, just in case." Demoman squeezed Sniper's hand again, then lifted his hand to Sniper's chin, tilting him up to look him in the eye. "I promise, I'll never let a monster hurt ye again. 'Least, not without a bloody fight."
Sniper smiled at that. "A promise." He shifted up to capture Demoman's lips in a soft kiss, his own hand coming to rest on the wolf-fang necklace that hung from his neck from a leather cord. "Kinda like this," he murmured as they parted. Demoman's eye followed the movement.
"That's a promise?" Demoman smiled in confusion, tilting his head a bit. "What d'ye mean by that?"
Sniper stared for a long moment, then hefted himself over to lay less on his side and more on his belly against Demoman. "Have I never told you?"
That made a bit of concern drift into the bomber's expression, an eyebrow quirking up. "Told me what?"
A soft laugh hissed though Sniper's nose, and immediately dispelled the tension rising in Demoman. "I can't believe—" Sniper shook his head. "It's magic, too. It's a necklace of proof against lycanthropy."
"Proof against lycanthropy?"
"Nah, yeh, I bought it from Merasmus the week after our first shag, since I intended to keep screwin' around with you and all," he chuckled.
"So is that why yer okay with a bit o' bitin'?" Demoman teased. "I'd been wonderin'."
"Yeh, because the bitin' is the real concern with me catchin' it." Sniper snorted a laugh.
That had Demoman tilting his head again, confusion knitting his brow. Before he could voice a question, the fact that there was a question at all made Sniper's gut sink. "You have no idea, do you?"
"Idea about what?" Demoman asked, now worried, lost.
"Tav, lycanthropy can be sexually transmitted."
"It WHAT?! "
"You didn't know that? Any fluid transfer can transmit the curse, like a disease."
"How the bloody hell would I know that? You're the first person I ever even shagged as the wolf, remember?"
"Your parents're werewolves! They didn't tell you?"
Demoman clapped a hand to his forehead, pressing the heel to his eye socket. "Oh, aye, me mum absolutely gave me The Talk But For Werewolves. Definitely something she'd bother with, right after pluckin' me back out o' the orphanage she'd dropped me off at in the first place," he drolled.
"Right, fair enough," Sniper conceded with a sheepish grin. As much as Lady DeGroot had a dirty sense of humour, he couldn't imagine the uptight, traditionalist, lecture-prone mother to be the type to sit her boy down to explain the importance of safe werewolf sex.
"...wait a tic." Demoman scrubbed his hand over his face then let it fall away, staring up at the ceiling for a moment before turning back to Sniper. "You got the necklace after our first shag?"
"Yeh."
"Does that mean— Mickey does that mean I've cursed ye?! " Demoman rolled a bit, pitching onto his side so he could look Sniper face-to-face, grabbing his bicep. "Is that wee fang the only thing keepin' ye human?" His eye flicked down to the necklace between them, then up to his lover, panic beginning to seep into his mind.
He'd cursed him. He'd cursed the one man who had ever loved him, the man who was his entire world. He'd cursed him with the same awful affliction that had turned so much of his life into solitary self-loathing and cagey fear of intimacy. From birth his life had been dominated by the twenty-eight day cycle that forced him to schedule his entire existence around becoming a dangerous, barely-controlled beast, foregoing friendships and romance for fear of discovery, for fear of rejection, for fear of endangering the people he'd cared about. And here, without even knowing, in the throes of animal lust, he had burdened the most important person in his universe with this same curse. On an impulse, letting go of the careful control he'd build up over a lifetime of secrecy and self-denial, he'd cursed this perfect man and ruined his life. Shame boiled in his heart, that his selfish desire would damn Sniper, that his refusal to resist his advances, to think better, to know better, had—
"Tav? Tav, calm down," Sniper soothed, seeing the emotions flooding his lover's face, the spiral beginning to wind up in his head. "You're fine. I'm fine. I'm not cursed." He pet at his lover's jaw, grounding him, pulling him out of his thoughts and making him focus on the narrow blue eyes that looked at him with utter adoration. "I can take the necklace off just fine. It doesn't stop transformations. It protects me from picking up the curse at all. I don't have it."
"But our first time—you got it then? You didn't have—" Demoman's voice wavered, and Sniper could feel the tremble in his jaw that marked the man as holding back tears.
Sniper nodded slowly. "Yeh, but I figured it out pretty quickly, and got it cured."
"There's a cure?"
"If you catch it from someone, and get it handled before the first transformation, it's not permanent and can be removed with a specific potion. Got one from Merasmus. I 'adn't thought about it being sexually transmittable either. I'd thought it was just bites, too. Here I'd thought I'd done enough research. Merasmus took the piss out of me about it, believe me."
"You're not cursed," Demoman fairly whispered. It was more a question than a statement.
"I'm not cursed," Sniper confirmed, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek.
"But what if you hadn't realized it so soon? What if—"
Sniper pressed a kiss to his lips, cutting him off. "Doesn't matter. I'm not cursed. I'm fine. I'm whole. I'm human. The only permanent change you've made to me is in here," he soothed, taking Demoman's hand and pressing it against his chest, his heart. The bomber choked back a sob and kissed Sniper again, wrapping his arms tightly around the thinner man and holding him as close as he could. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to scare you," Sniper soothed, petting at Demoman's back as he pressed their foreheads together.
"Yer nae cursed."
"I'm not. And I got the necklace so it wouldn't risk happenin' again. So long as I wear it, it's safe."
"So long as ye wear it? Why'd ye ever want tae take it off?"
Sniper shrugged a shoulder. "I don't, but the option is there. Bit romantic, innit? Lettin' you make me somethin' new, choosin' to be changed by someone you love."
"I dinnae find it such a nice thought," Demoman admitted with a sniff, the tide of his emotions beginning to recede.
Sniper smiled a little. "It's fine. It'd be a right pain in the arse for work anyway. Try schedulin' stakeouts 'round that. Time it wrong and you've got a great big wolfman tryin' to 'old a rifle steady."
Demoman laughed softly at the mental image, grateful for distraction. "Now ye ken why I keep a rotatin' schedule o' jobs."
"I just figured you got bored easy."
"Aye, that too. Good thing ye keep me entertained so well," he teased gently, claiming Sniper in another kiss.
Their lips parted, tongues lazily caressing one another as they tangled their legs together and clung tight to one another. Soft breaths puffed between them, the quiet squeaks of the mattress beneath them the only other sounds in the room. Sniper scratched lightly behind Demoman's ear, drawing a small moan from him, which slowly faded into a soft chuckle. It built into a laugh, and the bomber had to pull out of the kiss to try and stifle his giggles.
"What's so funny?" Sniper asked with a smirk.
"I just cannae help but picture what ye'd look like as a werewolf," Demoman explained through snickers.
"Why? Like some sort of mangy dingo or somethin'?" the assassin teased.
"Nae, nae! With those long, scrawny legs o' yers? Ye ever seen a maned wolf?"
"Those ridiculous fox-lookin' things from South America?"
"Aye! All big ears and long, long legs, ganglin' about! Ye'd be the picture of one!" He whooped a laugh at the thought, nearing a cackle as Sniper pouted in reply, utterly put-out at the comparison.
"'least I'd get a fluffy tail out of the deal, I suppose," Sniper harrumphed, trying to hide his own simmering laughs behind a veneer of false offense. "Bloody good thing I'm stayin' 'uman then."
"Aye, I like yer long legs just as they are," Demoman agreed, petting at Sniper's calf with his foot. He captured him in another kiss, cupping the back of his head and sighing happily as Sniper kissed back, the two of them falling into lazy makeouts, wrapped in one another contentedly.
Sniper wasn't sure how long it had been since they'd settled back into a lazy snuggle, his head on Demoman's shoulder, face slowly nuzzling at his chest, when a thought occurred to him. "What's the date?"
"What, today?"
"Yeh."
"Twenty-sixth of March. Why?"
"It's almost a year since our first shag."
Demoman looked down to Sniper. "Y'serious? Already?"
"Yeh. I'd never forget me first time with a werewolf, 'course."
"O' Course."
"It was the second of April."
"Our anniversary," Demoman chuckled.
"Honestly? It's how I look at it. We might've started datin' in October, but we've been shaggin' since April. Wasn't too long after that night I fell in love with you, even if I was too bloody stupid to say it."
Demoman wrapped his arm tightly around Sniper and squeezed him, a soft sound somewhere between a whimper and a delighted sigh escaping his throat. "That soon?"
"Sooner than I'd wanted to admit to meself at the time, that's for sure," Sniper chuckled.
"Here I'd thought I was the only one pinin' straight away back then." Demoman mused. "Didn't take long to fall hard for ye."
"I can't believe it took us so long and almost dyin' to say anythin'."
"We're both absolute numpties. Stupid as the day is long."
Sniper barked a laugh at that, "Utterly smitten and too scared to say so. Bloody idiots. I still can't believe it."
"I dinnae ken how we put up with us." Demoman snickered at that, pressing a kiss to his lover's forehead.
Shifting a bit, Sniper half-rolled onto his belly again, looking up at Demoman. "Speakin' of the date, we've got furlough comin' up soon."
"Aye, two weeks as promised. Nae a month, but I'll take what I can get."
"We've not any plans, 'ave we?"
Demoman hummed in thought, "Nae, I dinnae think we do. Should probably plan somethin' then." He mulled it over for a moment, turning things over in his mind. A broad, conspiratorial grin crossed his features, and he looked with excitement to his lover. "What's say we run off together, disappear for two weeks and elope?"
Sniper goggled at the suggestion, "Elope? Get married?!"
"Aye!" Demoman laughed, delighted in the utter flabbergasted look on the assassin's face. "Kiddin', but only half-kiddin'," he clarified, his grin softening a bit. "Sneak off, get married, tell not a soul. I'd be game if ye are."
If he was half-kidding, it meant he was half-serious, and Sniper could barely believe his ears. Demoman was passionate above all else, but this was almost too impulsive even for him! It made his chest flutter in a way a year ago he would have assumed was a heart attack. He couldn't deny the appeal, but his mind piped up to fight his emotions, tamp down the giddy energy building in him. His voice cracked as he replied lamely, "Wouldn't the rings be a dead giveaway?"
"So?"
"What about work? Catch a ring on something when you're working bombs? Could deglove your 'ole finger."
"Sod it, no rings. We'll tattoo 'em on. A wee black band on our ring fingers, a permanent mark of a permanent bond." His smile grew back into a grin. He wasn't even sure whether Sniper's protestations were an earnest effort or not, but if he were honest, he wasn't sure if his efforts to convince were truly earnest either. The idea made his heart race in his chest, regardless of whether they actually acted on it, and in the moment he promised himself that if not now, then someday.
Sniper caught Demoman's hand, threading their fingers together. He rubbed at the bomber's ring finger with his, his stomach considering doing a few flips for good measure. "Tattoos. I do like that."
"See?"
Common sense fought for control once again, "We've only been dating six months."
"Ye said yerself ye look at April as our anniversary."
Got him there. Sniper kissed him, smiling against his lips. "What about our families?"
"Mum was askin' about weddin' bells at Smissmas, two official months in," Demoman recalled with a laugh. "She could tell even then."
"You've not met my parents."
"Well let's fix that then! Fine, we'll nae get married this furlough. We dinnae have tae do it now. It was just an idea. But mark my words, Michael Mundy I intend tae make an honest man out o' ye someday," Demoman teased, letting go of Sniper's hand to wag a finger in his face.
"You'll need more than a wedding to make me honest," Sniper laughed.
"Aye but it's a start! So how about ye take me home tae meet yer parents, then? Get their blessin' and all."
"You're serious? You know how my relationship is with them."
"Ye've said yerself yer ma wants tae pet me sweet little ears."
"I don't think she understands how werewolves work."
"Aye, but the necklace can help with that," Demoman reminded him with a chuckle. "But aye, I want tae meet them. Maybe once yer da lays eyes on me he'll stop criticizin' yer career decisions and settle on yer taste in men to complain about."
"Stop that; you're the best decision I ever made," Sniper chastised with a frown.
"Then if yer da don't like that he can sod off."
Sniper chuckled at that. Fair enough. "Sure," he replied, settling back onto the bomber's shoulder. "I'll call them, make arrangements."
"Lovely."
"Tav?"
"Aye?"
"That wasn't a 'no', just so you're aware."
Demoman beamed, taking hold of the rangy assassin and tugging him on top of himself to kiss him silly.
I finally got a chance to read the story we commissioned from @monstrousintent today (don’t worry, you guys’ll get to read it soon and it’s amazing :D), and I was proofreading a story with werewolves, and I had Hungry Like the Wolf stuck in my head, so:
Sniper comes back from town one day, grinning like an idiot, and he’s got a record with a bunch of dumb, wolf-related songs.
At first Demo is trying to be grumpy, but then he starts tapping his foot, and then they’re both singing like the idiots they are.
01. Full name: Tavish Finnegan DeGroot, werewolf at large02. Best friend: Not counting his boyfriend? Probably Soldier, though he feels a lot of guilt because of Solly’s history with his duplicate on RED. He worries that them being close makes it harder on him, though he’d never say anything, and he knows Soldier won’t, whether it does or not.03. Sexuality: Bisexual04. Favorite color: He is contractually obligated to say blue. He likes green a lot, too.05. Relationship status: Dating Sniper. And a total sappy dork about it too.06. Ideal mate: Sniper. Though ideally there could have been a lot less heartache and blood and near-death experiences involved in getting there. But he’s glad they got there.07. Turn-ons: Long legs, body hair, a sexy growly voice. He loves praise and attention and being pet and loved up on. Kink-wise when he’s not being a romantic nerd he’s big into biting, scratching, roughness in general. Coming on his partner. Voyeurism and cuckolding in that now secure in his relationship with Sniper, watching him get banged by someone else then reclaiming him afterward really gets him good. Also he really fukken loves tummy rubs I can’t stress that enough.08. Favorite food: While he has a deep love for his cultural heritage and Scottish cuisine (mmm haggis is so good), he’s actually just happy with a nice medium rare ribeye steak and some really properly cooked veggies, especially grilled. Though really he’s not a picky eater.09. Crushes: Sniper, up until they actually started dating. Though he could see himself maybe with Scout, should the faun be looking for more boyfriends rather than casual partners, but only if Sniper were on board, too, and Scout was their secondary partner. But he couldn’t really see himself loving anyone the way he loves Sniper.10. Favorite music: He’s especially fond of any kind of rock that incorporates heavy piano, since he learned the instruent as a child and only ever got to play classical stuff. So he taught himself ragtime and rock piano, and loves it. Upbeat jazz. Celtic drum bands. Pop and rock of all sorts. Anything you can cut a rug to, really.11. Biggest fear: Losing people. Be it because of his monstrous nature, a personality that he (incorrectly) worries is repellant, his abandonment issues, his trauma regarding the death of his adoptive parents, or the bloody, gory shower of meat that the Gravel War turns his friends and lover into on a regular basis, Demo has a lot of reasons to fear and to have experienced loss. It eats at him, and is a large reason he drinks on the job. It makes him wonder if that’s why his RED equivalent always seems three sheets further to the wind than him on the field, too. (He also fears losing control of his werewolf form and hurting someone (namely Sniper), but it’s less consuming, since he’s worked damn hard to master himself, and that’s something he’s a lot more secure about.)12. Biggest fantasy: Sexy or non-sexy? Non-sexy first: Being able to be open about what he is without worry or paranoia. Not having to live in the middle of nowhere with his mum for fear of being discovered and hunted down. Freedom. Sexy: Being tied down as a werewolf and forced to watch Sniper being gangbanged by a whole slew of different monsters, all taking and using him while he just revels in it, then when they’re done, Demo ripping his way free and taking Sniper last, fucking him with all of his might and reclaiming his mate until he’s so exhausted he can’t move. He may have mentioned this to Sniper once. Sniper may have loved the idea but been concerned about surviving it. He still kinda wants to try it anyway.13. Bad habits: Drinking on the job, being really bad at coping and really bad at communicating when it’s something to do with his self-esteem, leaving Sniper with bites and hickeys that can’t be covered by his uniform (a bad habit he does not intend to break)14. Biggest regret: The death of his adoptive parents.15. Best kept secrets: Up until his thing with Sniper began, his lycanthropy. He got sloppy once he had an accomplice and was too focused on his own emotional crap.16. Last thought: ? I don’t understand that question. Does that mean like last thought before he dies? Idk he dies like five times a day. Most of it is probably “SENTRY AHEAD” or “SPY!”17. Worst romantic experience: I imagine his first attempt at dating a human was an exercise in frustration and misdirection. Especally having to turn down staying over on full moons, or justifying his powerful sense of smell, or hell just explaining his mundane family let alone keeping their monstrous nature under wraps.18. Biggest insecurity: He lowkey worries he’s just a burden and a danger to everyone and their fondness for him is simple pity because they have to work with him.19. Weapon of choice: He tends to run stock launcher and sticky launcher, but for melee prefers The Eyelander to the bottle20. Role Model: He’d tell you it was his father, the hard-working highlands demolitionist who once blew up the queen for a nickel. But he’d be lying.
Sniper calling werewolf!Demo 'mongrel' (because it's one of Sniper's voice lines) playfully, and Demo being like hmph! I'm purebred, thank you! monstrousintent
Would Demo have more than two nipples in wolf-form? (I'm asking for a friend XD)
As HILARIOUS as it would be, Demowolf has but two nipples. If he were to transform into, like, just a straight up wolf, he’d probably have six, but big hybrid werewolf form Demo has only two.
