Summary:
Scout gets a call over his headset. He really likes getting calls from Miss P, ya know?.
Notes:
This is the result of a single sleepless night. Also! This is set in the Badwater map.
Story:
"Scout. I need you."
He nearly dropped his gun hearing that crackle in his headset. He was covered in grime from running in the endless New Mexico desert. Blood too, as a ramification and rule of the mercenary job. But there was nothing like her voice in his ear that made him feel like a giddy schoolboy running through the playground again.
"Miss P! Miss P! Yo, we're holding the last point nice n' tight!" He hopped over a BLU Engineer’s dead body and ran towards the enemy spawn with a grin. "Y'see that shit?"
"That's really great Scout. I knew you could do it.” She sighed. “You've done so well in my absence. I've missed you."
Oh shit. Missed him? It'd only been twelve hours and fifteen minutes since the last time she rang into his headset. He’d kept count.
"Really?"
"No. Not really."
Miss Pauling's voice melted away into a familiar accent. It reeked of snootiness, and cheese, and... and... Frenchiness. "Hello, Scout."
"Oh. Spoih." Not exactly the voice he was waiting to hear all day. Yet...
"What the hell are ya doing with Miss P's thingamajig?"
"She's off on some errands and asked me to take over her job for today. Watching over you poor lot, and issuing some small commands."
Scout ran up to the roof of the building looking over BLU's spawn. He crouched, and peeked out over the ledge. BLU had pushed far past this point, they probably wouldn't be looking up here. "Huh. Cool. Why you? Why ain't she ask me, I'm always talkin' to her and stuff all the time. We're like best buds. Why didn't she tell me?"
"I'm quite competent at administrative tasks. Unlike you, Scout. All you're really good at is killing people. And even at that, I'm better than you."
"Yo, come back down here n' I'll show ya who's better n' who! You ain't doin' nothin' but jack off in the corner with your fancy watch.” Scout rubbed the back of his head and walked around the roof aimlessly. “I see you getting, what, one backstab maybe after an hour of waitin', then gettin' blown up instantly. I'm the one cappin' points and gettin' pussy, man! Miss P prolly doesn't even talk to you out of work."
Spy's snorts rang through his headset. Scout rolled his eyes. Gross. What kinda of dude laughs like that anyways? Like some kinda honkin' goose.
"We'll have your penis measuring contest later, Scout. Not that yours would be much against anyone on the team. Did you know that the showers and locker room are monitored in this room?"
"What the hell? Really?" Scout heart stopped thinking about Miss P watching him change. Or Spy watching him jerk off in the shower this morning. Fucking creep, probably watches him jerk off even without all them fancy monitors. Prolly all invisible n' shit watching, hell, everyone in the corner of the locker room.
"Don't worry about it. It's not as if you have anything impressive to show during your showers that would catch your precious Miss Pauling's attention. Your private time is safe."
"Shut the fuck up Spy. I guarantee ya my cock's way bigger n' fatter n' yours. Uh, not that I've seen your tiny frog dick before. I just know it's small. Least, small enough ya can't even see it when you shower. Demo told me. That guy's funny, got a peepin' eye. I don't fucken watch you while you shower. 'Sides all dat, it's how you use it that girls like." Scout stared off at the tunnel connecting to the third point. A couple of BLUs running back to the frontlines. Too busy to see him crouched on the roof. "So did you just get on the hotline to talk shit about me? Or you gonna gimme a contract, or what?"
"Hmm? Oh yes, contracts. Let's see.." Spy's voice trailed off into radio static.
All Scout could hear now was distant explosions and bullets. He should really get back to the fray. Do something other than waste time with Spy. That stuck up spy with his snotty voice, all he ever fucking did was make shitty comments and prance off with a limp wrist.
But Scout waited anyways.
Scout tapped his fingers over the barrel of his shotgun impatiently. His headset crackled again.
"Scout?"
It was her voice this time. A wave of happiness washed over Scout.
"Yo, Miss P! You finally took back over from that piece of shit Spy!"
"I'm sorry for everything he said. Absolutely unprofessional. I'll make sure to mark it down in his records."
Scout snickered. "Aw yeah, knock him down a bit! Make him wipe the toilet or somethin', that'll get him."
"I'll make sure of it. Just for you Scout. I always liked you better."
"Oh. Um, yeah. 'Course. No one likes Spy. That guy sucks."
"I mean. I like you especially."
"Uh."
Scout felt antsy suddenly. He wanted to run. He always ran when he didn't know what to do. So he ran down the roof’s stairs, and hopped through to the courtyard behind it. The team was defending well enough without him, and it'd been a good while since the cart had been last pushed. This place was always nice and secluded
She sighed. Her breath sounded real pretty. "You mean a lot to me Scout. I wish I could spend more time with you. Because I like you."
Scout slipped behind a rock. near the corner of the wire fence. There was time. He could make time for her. He glanced to his left and right. No one there. He sat against the rock and cupped his hands around his headset’s mic.
He whispered, "You mean, like... you LIKE-like me Miss P?"
"Yes. I like-like you. I wish you were here in this room with me. I've already kicked Spy out. It'd be just us."
Scout bit his thumb, trying to come up with those words that kept choking down his throat. "Um. I, uh, I can't believe it. I'd really like to keep ya company. I‘ve liked you for long time, Miss P."
"It's always just me in this room. It gets lonely. But I always liked watching you, and talking to you. I can see you right now. You're next that wire fence right now, right? No one there but you."
"Yeah, uh, sorry I ain't up there with the team. Just wanna talk to you."
"It's alright Scout. That means you like me a lot, right? How much do you like me?"
"Man, a whole bunch! I ain't stopped thinkin' about you since I laid eyes on ya. What, four years ago now...? When I first joined the tea--"
"Do you like me enough to fuck me?"
What the hell. Scout squirmed in his seat on the sand. It was really hot out here. Especially today. Must be that global warming mumbo jumbo Engie kept talking about. He kept biting at the hangnail on his thumb, it wouldn’t come off. "Y-yeah, I guess so. I mean! Yes! You're, ah, real pretty and--"
"Your dick's hard right now, isn't it?"
Scout crossed his legs shamefully in an attempt to cover himself up. His face was burning, his eyes darted around. Where were the cameras in this place..? "Um, yeah. Sorry. Guess you really can see everything up there."
"That's enough to get you hard? You really haven't had a girlfriend before, huh?" Her voice lowered. "I'm glad to be your first. Take it out and show me how much you like me."
"Ah..." Scout's lips were so dry. He bit on the chapped skin, enough to peel a bit off. It bled. "Right, um, now?"
"Yes."
The sound of his heart pounding in his ears drowned her voice out. His hands shook with every beat as he undid his belt and unzipped his pants. The front of his underwear was darkened with a drop of pre-cum. What a day to wear his white briefs (with his name written in cursive on the tag by his mom), why couldn't he had worn something cool, like some manly boxers, with a manly pattern like plaid in dull, manly green? Scout pulled down the waistband of his tighty whities, and let his erection spring out. He should have trimmed his pubes or something, ladies like a lil upkeep down under don't they? Or maybe it was manlier to let the bush grow free? Did she mind that he was uncut? Maybe he should ask Medic for a circumcision or somethin', that guy was kosher right?
His mind kept racing through every possible thing he could have done before this, while he waited for her to say something, anything else. It was way too hot out here. The sand was kinda getting in his ass crack too. "Uh. I did it, Miss P."
"Wow, Scout."
Finally. Hearing her voice say his name made him feel so happy. Not like that was his actual name. Just the title of his job. But no one went by their birth names here. May as well be his name now.
Scout smiled nervously up at the walls. That's where the cameras would be, right? In the walls? "You like what you see?"
"Maybe if I could see anything. It's kinda small."
His face burned up. "Uh, it's kinda cold. I mean, y'know, Miss P? It gets bigger, I swear!"
"We don't have time, Scout. The round's almost over. I need you now. Do you touch yourself thinking about me? Show me how. I want to watch."
"Jeez. Awright, Miss P."
Sitting against the rock was getting uncomfortable. Scout leaned further down, his back on the sand now. He palmed at his dick, and rubbed it against his lower stomach. He'd never felt his cheeks sting so flushed like this, Miss P never paid attention to him like this before. His dick was leaking enough pre-cum from this that he didn't need lube or spit.
"Is this how you touch yourself, Scout? Do you lay in bed at night thinking of me?"
He bit his lip and stroked himself faster. He'd never get sick of her saying his name. "Yeah. Every night I jack off thinkin' 'bout you, n' all the things I want you to do to me. I jerked off this morning too. Iunno, I can't stop thinkin--"
"Honestly, that's kinda pathetic. You’re always talking about being a ladies man. I thought you could get any girl you wanted. Demo and Soldier go to bars all the time after work. Why don't you just go out and get laid like them? You wouldn't need all those jars then."
"Miss P, I --" His chest clutched up and his ears burned as he choked on his own words. But he kept jacking himself off.
Yeah, it seemed a lot more manly to fuck as many girls as possible. Gotta get that tally scratched into his bed’s headboard up, right? Gotta show off to everyone else. But he didn't want to do no one else but her. Shit, he thought Miss P be proud that he was saving himself for marriage n' shit. Ma told him that's what good girls wanted in a man, she always clutched her rosary and said stuff 'bout that Jeebus dude n' pre-marital sex or whatever. But then again, he always noticed that Ma didn't have no ring on her finger in those photos where she was holding his oldest brothers as babies.
"Don't worry about that right now. You said you think about things when you touch yourself? Things you want me to do to you? Tell me, Scout."
Everything seemed to stop. His hands stopped working. The desert heat was making him dizzy. Yeah, that must be it. Real hot out here, he was sweating all over. Those weren't tears rolling down his cheeks, no way. It was just hot out here, getting tired. Miss P was probably tired too, that's why she's acting weird.
His dick was still hard though. Can't help it, not with her paying more attention to him than ever. "You really wanna hear, Miss P?"
"Yes, Scout."
"Awright. Don't make fun of me." Scout swallowed hard. He slicked his foreskin over the head of his dick tentatively with his thumb. Then resumed his stroking pace. "I want you over me, I wanna look up at you. Touchin' me, and y'know, uh, riding me. Maybe holdin' hands. I really want you to, y'know, kiss me."
"Really, Scout?" Her words stung even without hearing the rest of what she'd say. But he kept grabbing at himself, groping until it hurt. "Kissing? That's all? With all that filth that spews from your mouth, I thought you'd want more than that. You're like a little boy playing mommy and daddy with your GI Joes. Or maybe they should be Barbie dolls."
Scout pushed the collar of his shirt over his mouth to muffle his groans. It was sweat-soaked, and now drool-soaked. Yeah, she was intentionally making fun of him. He accepted it at this point. He also accepted how much it got him off. He couldn't shoot back with any words, he just wanted to hear more of her voice.
"Grow up, Scout. You're a big man, aren't you? Not that big, actually. Not much taller than Engie. And the little toy you're playing with in your hands. Stop playing with toys. You keep waiting for me to make a move back, but you know you're never going to get me. You can't even go all the way with me. You're sucking your thumb now? Really?"
The voice in his ear had been distorting, it seemed a bit lower now through all the white noise. A lot more nasally. Kinda like a frog. Kinda weird. It didn't matter. All that mattered was that it was speaking to him, directly to him, paying attention to him. He let go of his shirt fabric, and rubbed his free hand over his burning cheek while his other hand squeezed his dick. He couldn't see straight, everything was wavy like looking far away into the sun, so he just closed his eyes. He thought about a hand on his shoulder, a warm face leaning close to his ear. Words of encouragement, stabbing insults. Excellent, Scout. Shut up, Scout. Sometimes the insults made him wince, but he always waited for the kind words to reassure him. It was confusing and he couldn't fucking understand why it did that, all he knew was that he craved anything from it at this point.
"All your talk of being a tough guy while you're on the field, but you can't even say anything back to my face. Congratulations, you're a failure! Don't hold back now, Scout. Tell me you want to push me down and fuck me against the floor, tell me what you really want. Look at yourself. Laying in dirt and touching yourself. There's nothing for you to lose. You can't lose the dignity that you never had. And you can't lose me because you never had me."
He could waste days just listening to it, laying in a pool of his own sweaty cum, and staring at the white hot sun until he went blind and the skin on his palms fell off. If only it would keep talking to him.
"Yeah, awright, I wanna fuck you on the floor, and, and, fucking, grab your hips til they bruise, lemme flip you round and watch your tits bounce while i fuck you, I wanna make you moan and shit, make you grab onto me and pull my hair, lemme grab your dick and rub you raw like I'm doin' to myself, just keep sayin' those things to me man, fucking I don't care what it is, if it hurts or feels good or -- "
----
Bathed in sickly blue light, Spy poked at his lukewarm supper of military-issued green beans and mashed potatoes. He absentmindedly glimpsed at each monitor in the stacked wall of surveillance screens. Demoman limping with a leg blown off, screaming for Medic on screen twenty-two. Soldier screaming while running straight into a Heavy-Medic pair on number fifteen. Lots of screaming, as usual.
Oh, yes. Spy leaned back into his chair and shoveled some soggy beans into his mouth. And little Scout doing his thing behind a rock on lucky number seven. Spy had turned down the volume after a while, but he was surely still mumbling some nonsense to himself.
White light filled the room as the door opened behind Spy. The sound of flat shoes lightly pattered down towards him. A helmet slammed down on the monitor desk, with a heavy backpack following, shaking his styrofoam plate of food. Spy patted his mouth delicately with a brown paper napkin, and turned to see Miss Pauling. She was out of breath, and her eyes briskly scanned the monitors.
"Spy, thanks for helping me out today, I really needed to go get so -- oh god. Why is he doing that?"
"Shhh. I'll show you." Spy smiled. Taking in a long drag of his cigarette, he slowly blew out the smoke. He tapped the microphone a few times, then leaned in. "Scout, you still there? "
Miss Pauling grimaced upon hearing Spy's imitation of her voice. It was pitch perfect. Perhaps a tinge accented, but the disguise kit's voice modulator did a fine job. Perhaps too good. She'd have to tell Engie to remove that disguise option as soon as possible.
Scout's voice crackled, distorted through the intercom. "Yeah..."
"I want you to know how proud I am of you for making a fool of yourself in public. You look disgusting. Like an overboiled egg. Grabbing at your dick while the sun bakes you alive" Spy turned to meet Miss Pauling's repulsed expression, sharply grinning from ear to ear.
Scout whimpered. "Man, stop sayin' that, I already know. Don't stop talking to me though. I wanna keep hearing your voice. Please."
Miss Pauling knocked the microphone off the desk and glared at Spy.
"Spy, you can't do that. Look at him, he's all... all red and moist and dripping. Jesus, he's masturbating in the middle of a gunfight!"
"I got bored. The temperature in here is quite comfortable, but I don't see how you can just sit here and watch us die over and over. Perhaps you should take my place on the field once in a while. I'll loan you my knife. I promise it's much more fun down in the desert." Spy continued smiling that crocodile grin, and took another draw from his cigarette.
Miss Pauling raised her arms up and turned away from the monitors. "Boredom is beside the point. You can't play around with him like that."
Spy snorted. "Why can't I play around with him? It's not as if you aren't just as cruel. Stringing his heart along a leash, while he whimpers after you and licks at your ankles like a dog. He waits every day for just a second of hearing your voice, for you to feed him scraps and bones underneath the table. He'll never let go of you with how you treat him."
"Spy, I'm not in the business of discussing my workplace relationships. And I'm not stringing him along. I've given him plenty of signs that I'm not interested, and you know how he is. Look, you called him disgusting and he's still jerking off."
"Yes. He's quite simple. Too simple to understand your signs. When you say you don't have time right now, he thinks you'll have time for him later. You'll have to tell him plainly when he's not, ah, in the throes of passion. Why don't you just reject him outright, hmm?"
"Why exactly do you care so much?"
Spy pursed his lips and glanced at the screen. Scout was still going at it. "I don't care. Do what you like with him."
"I'd like to not deal with the aftermath of rejecting a man I have to talk to every day. Or him probably insisting that he could turn me 'straight'. He's already got creepy stalker vibes, I'd... rather him not get even creepier and stalker-y."
"Fair enough." Spy picked the microphone off the floor, and placed it gently on the desk where it was before.
Miss Pauling walked back to the monitors, and stared at screen number seven with Spy. They watched in silence. The only sound in the room was the hum of air conditioning mixed with Scout's pitiful panting.
"Do you think you could make him do, like, butt stuff to himself?"
"It's always worth a try." Spy leaned into the microphone once more, and fiddled with the voice modulator. "Scout. Would you like my fingers in your ass while I suck your dick?"
They watched the monitor, waiting. Scout snapped out of his his furious meat beating and completely paused. He began shoving his underpants down to join his pants around his knees. "Uh. Yeah. Um. I'd like that a lot, Spy."
Miss Pauling giggled, and Spy raised his upper lip in disgust. He stared through half-lidded eyes, as Scout sucked on his fingers and reached between his legs. "Hmm. How unfortunate."
End Notes
Yeah, Scout has a crush on both Miss Pauling and Spy. Fortunately, he has no chance with either of them :^) Miss Pauling is a lesbian.