Chapter Text
̵ ̸ ̶ ̸W̵a̴s̶ ̵j̵u̸s̵t̴ ̸w̶o̴r̴r̸i̷e̴d̸”̴
̶ “̴T̸h̵a̴t̶'̴s̷ ̶a̸l̴l̷.̵.̷.̴ ̶I̴ ̵d̶o̶n̷'̴t̴ ̶g̴e̶t̶ ̴i̷t̷.̶.̸.̵ ̵W̴h̸y̸ ̸w̷e̴r̸e̵ ̶y̴a̷h̶ ̷s̷o̴ ̴m̴a̵d̶ ̸a̵t̷ ̷m̴e̸”̸
̵ ̸ ̶ ̷“̵S̷p̷o̵o̴k̷ ̵s̴h̴o̸u̸l̶d̵n̸'̶t̸ ̸b̶e̷ ̷b̸o̴t̷h̵e̴r̵i̶n̶'̶ ̵y̶a̶h̷ ̷a̶l̵l̵ ̶t̷h̵e̷ ̶t̶i̴m̸e̶.̵
̴ Y̵o̵u̷ ̵s̶h̶o̴u̴l̵d̶ ̸s̷t̵o̵p̴ ̴v̶a̵l̵l̶o̵v̴i̸n̸g̴ ̸a̶n̶d̶ ̶f̵i̴x̵ ̴t̶h̷i̶s̸ ̶i̵s̸s̸u̴e̶ ̶t̸h̷i̵s̷ ̷i̷n̸s̸i̵s̵t̴e̷n̴c̵e̴”̷
̵“̵V̸e̵ ̷h̷a̸d̶ ̵y̷o̷u̴ ̸t̷v̶o̷ ̵f̵i̸g̷h̷t̸ ̵b̷e̶f̷o̷r̶e̵.̷ ̴m̶a̴k̴e̷ ̸u̷p̵ ̴l̴i̵k̶e̵ ̸l̵a̵s̷t̸ ̷t̸i̶m̶e̶ ̵a̴n̸d̷ ̸s̷t̴o̸p̸ ̴v̷a̷s̶t̵i̷n̷g̴ ̴c̶a̸u̷s̴i̸n̸g̴ ̵a̶ ̸h̵i̵n̷d̷r̴a̶n̶c̸e̶ ̵f̶o̸r̸ ̵t̴h̷e̶ ̸r̶e̸s̸t̴ ̸o̷f̴ ̸z̴e̷ ̸t̶e̶a̵m̶
̵ .̸.̷.̷A̸'̶r̶i̷g̸h̸t̴.̷”̸
̴ ̸ ̶ ̷“̵
̸ ̶
—already halfway zhere—do not covard avay at last mo…” I was in the middle of speaking…
…I was in the middle of speaking?
I was in the middle of speaking, standing in front of Sniper as he suddenly stopped walking, afraid to move any further. We… found ourselves in one of the many hallways of the base leading to the bedrooms. Sniper’s head snapped up and tilted slightly, confused why I had stopped the same.
…Something has happened—how troublesome, it does not usually get this bad…
Before I could ramble out an excuse, Sniper’s body straightened out of his slumped position, ears perking up to a noise only he picked up. He then rushed by, thumping boots against wood before halting abruptly in front of a door. Even through his panicked stare and uneasy breathing, the only thing that held my attention was his drenched shoulder, which sparkled with specks of broken glass. Brown liquid spilled down his arm, dripping to the tips of his fingers and wetting the floorboards.
He was making a needless mess, and I hurried over to scold him until I realized why he was just standing there in the first place.
…Yes, this was the hallway of the bedrooms.
The door in front of us was that Kretin’s door.
And Spy was with that Kretin right now.
Repeating that same degeneracy that always unfolded in front of me—rutting himself against Spy like some animal in heat on the dirty floor.
Every time I came to visit Spy….
Every time I came to visit, Vater…
Those noises are repeating against not only my ears but in Sniper’s now, far too stunned from the scene to look away. His expression of horror said it all—any façade of stoicism he always tried to play on was unable to hold.
My hands gently rested upon his shoulders, muscles stiffened to the touch, the cloth crackling the slightest of noise when moved. Sniper’s head did a sharp turn, but he did not peep a sound. I gently pushed him to step further inside, enough for the smallest beam of light to peer inside the room.
It was enough, just enough.
And I let go.
So we can properly watch them act like the deviants they were.
Hah… Hahahah… Is it not wonderful? Utter betrayal…
I know Sniper never held such strong feelings for that Kretin—or perhaps he did? It still hurts either way… having strong trust for someone only to have it ripped apart and soiled. I am doubtful that this Kretin is even thinking about anything else but Spy right now.
He drank. Vater drank.
He lied. Vater lied.
Truly acting like a horny animal, being encouraged equally by a pathetic whore of a man needing any sort of sick thrill in his fading, wasteful life.
…It is arousing.
It aroused me every time, Vater.
It is arousing to see Spy in such a state, being manhandled—being used by another. I can only imagine the number of men who have touched their hands upon that body—violated him in ways my mind can only picture.
How many men have touched you similarly, Vater?
When it was over for them, Spy was the first to notice our intrusion, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape, but holding back from making a sound. He really is no different—a sick perversion of a man caught red-handed for all the wrongs he has committed. And far was it long before that Kretin soon noticed the same, trying to get to his feet with his pants rubber-banding him when standing.
“Wait, it’s not what it looks like!” That Kretin said in great panic, making Sniper step back when that disgusting filth got too close. “Snipes, I ain’t no fag! I’m not a fag!” Neither Sniper nor I argued or excused ourselves, just watching as that Kretin fumbled simple words, let alone stand correctly. He gave up altogether and simply yelled instead, “Just get out of my room!”
Sniper was the first to leave in that longing silence, myself the second once I knew Spy was following after. The click of the door behind left the three of us back in the hallway, the environment lacking in change as no one dared to speak up. Only Sniper did something and that was leaving me all alone with Spy.
Such a moment alone had felt like a rarity—when has it been the last time we have even spoken, I cannot recall!? When was it the last time?!
And I rudely barged into Spy’s space, crowding him up against the wall, getting a good look at his disgusting self. A suit drenched with questionable spots, a flushed face of pink, a hint of stubble being shown from his askew balaclava that had been removed through the reckless movements of their sexual deviance.
I told him not to worry—that his secrets would never leave my lips, nor Snipers—I would make sure of it! And I reached a hand out, wanting to touch that part of Spy the same. But all I got in return was a harsh smack of his rejection, feeling a faint burning in my wound when harmed.
“…Excuse me,” Spy coldly said, adjusting the mess of his balaclava properly to further deny me that chance. “I wish to go clean.” Once done, he walked by without so much as a look of proper eye contact back, leaving me to stand alone in that dimly lit hallway…
…
…. .. ..
…My mind felt hazy…
…And I ended up walking oppositely, not sure where I was even going…
Just walking…. .. . .
Step…
Step…
Step…
“Yah seem lost, Doc.”
A southern accent rang in my ear as I stopped, turning to see Dell behind me. He casually made his way closer, checking over my well-being before giving a friendly pat on my arm, the strong metal against skin heavy and cold. “Could get some meat on those bones,” he mentioned, being gentle with the metal when pinching at my skin. “Can make yah up some bacon—grease will fatin’ yah up mighty fine, ehaha!” The hearty joke he gave was expecting a laugh back.
But I said nothing, just staring.
Either way, he continued like nothing was wrong, “Stretch with yah? He looked mighty hurt back there—Glass can sting just as hard as gun shrapnel, lemme tell’yah. Gotten some mean hits similar to that back home.”
I blinked, not understanding.
“Right, Doc? Probably had some fellas gettin’ glass in parts yah never wanted to touch or look at.”
…Glass? Yes, on Sniper's shoulder, there was glass. That was there because…
Because…̴̴ ̸ ̶ ̷ ̵ ̶ ̸ ̴ ̶ ̶ ̷ ̴ ̸ ̴
̶ ̸ ̴ ̶ ̶ ̷ ̴ ̸ ̴
̵ ̶ ̸ ̴ ̶ ̶ ̷
̸ “̵ Everyone is celebrating… then there was a noise outside?
“Just because … can spew…behind his! !̴ ̸ ̶ ̷“̵”
“Hey, easy… son̴ ̸ ̶ ̷“̵”
That Kretin was yelling, holding a broken bottle…
“ …Sorry”
And Sniper was apologizing again.
“ ̴ ̸ ̶ ̷“̵Do not be apologizing”
“Was… worried”
…Worried? Why? Over that mere… child?!
“Why were… mad̴ ̸ ̶ ̷“̵”
Why? That Kretin does not deserve your respect! Everything is that Kretin’s fault!!
Spook shouldn't… botherin'̴ ̸ ̶ ̷“̵
Why are you always being so stupid? Why, why, why, why ̶ ̸ ̴ ̶ ̶ ̷
̴ ̸ ̶ ̷ ̵ ̶ ̸ ̴ ̶ ̶ ̷ ̴ ̸ ̴
̶ ̸ ̴ ̶ ̶ ̷ ̴ ̸ ̴
̵ ̶ ̸ ̴ ̶ ̶ ̷
“Yah lookin’ like yah don’t know what I’m talkin’ ‘bout now, do you, Doc?”
The sound of Dell’s tone brought my thoughts back. Dangerous, serious now. But when my sight focused on him, he still held that cheery smile, everything else hidden beneath with large welder goggles that glared against the flickering lighting above.
“Hey, yer supposed to be helpin’ him, right?” He asked, tone betraying his smile yet again. “Why don’tcha go do that?” The metal of his hand left, crossed against his chest like he was waiting for me to go do that.
To help Sniper…
To heal him...
…Yes, because I am his doctor, and he needs me.
So I started walking again…. .. . .
Step…
Step…
Step…
And I ended up back outside, the night completely dead in darkness, the base barely giving enough light to make the path to Sniper’s van safely visible for traversal.
Sniper sat on the small staircase to his van’s door, hands on his head, fingers sliding between strands of hair. From here, I could tell he was completely stressed, holding back whatever feelings he wished to keep inside. And all my time just standing there, he sat in silence like I was not even there. If I do speak, it would only be words of scolding, thinking he had the privilege to threaten weeping tears in front of me. I like to believe Sniper thought the same, and that is why he acting so quiet with himself, less he spewed out more of his stupidity.
He is always being so… stupid.
“Doc.”
Sniper’s voice surprised me, hoarse and shaky. His head lifted, having shed nothing, expressing nothing.
He simply asked, “Can we have sex?”
… . .. .
And I simply nodded.
He stood, walking over with a wobble as his longer height hid away the visibility of light, creating almost complete darkness in my view. His hands touched my face, bringing it up as our lips pecked in a soft kiss. My hand twitched, but I did nothing to stop him. Like always, I take in his flavor. But neither bitterness nor sweetness touched my taste buds.
Nothing…
Almost boring...
Almost sad…
The kiss was short, letting off, expression still empty. He gently wrapped a hand around my own, tugging me along towards his van. Not out of an exchange but because he wants to have sex—he wants to feel better… as a Doctor, I have to make him feel better.
That is what a good Doctor would do?
The heels of my boots dipped into the gravel, halting us both from entering. Sniper looked back, a slight grip holding on before softening altogether and letting go.
“…Sorry,” another stupid apology spewed from his mouth, head dipped to his side to avoid responsibility.
My hand clenched, missing the warmth it felt moments ago. And I finished what he refused to commit to, grabbing at his hand, intruding into his van with a harsh boot onto his step case, lips smacking in a hot wet embrace, our sick perversion only hidden by the clatter of his door closing behind us.