Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The next morning, Scout stirs from the sunlight seeping into the room. He sits up and wipes his face that feels weirdly wet for some reason. Like a dog had slobbered on him for an hour. He looks around, trying to recall what happened last night. That’s when it hits him. The woods, the camper, the feral woodsman bent on breeding his fertile womb. Scout looks down, groaning when he sees the sticky trails of cum coating his front and inner thighs. Guess bushmen don’t do clean ups.

Scout crawls on wobbly legs over to his backpack that had fallen when he was dragged. He rummages through spare clothes and his untouched sleeping bag for food and water. A soft flapping indicates that the owl from last night wants his presence known. The faint hooting brings Scout’s eyes towards what once was the loft for the mattress. Now, its a cluttered mess with a large nest in the center.

“Huh, guess you guys are friends. I’m Scout, by the way.” He realizes a bird knows his name before the guy who’s likely going to become a father with him. A rough start to whatever relationship this is leading to. Scout takes a sip from his water bottle and bites into a snack bar, unable to move much further. His hips are sore, and his left leg is cramping. Now that he’s slept here, the camper isn’t as rank as last night. He just hopes to get used to the smell soon.

“Is he hunting?” It’s strange, really. The camper is filthy, but there’s not a bug or mouse in sight. Likely thanks to the feathery companion above. Scout rubs his back, groaning at the pain that shoots up his spine. Maybe it was less than smart to give some guy permission to ravage him while he slept. On the other hand, definitely worth it.

“Hoo.” Sir Hootsalot really does seem to acknowledge the city boy’s words, even if he is a bit wary of the guest in Sniper’s abode. He fluffs up a bit at his question, assumably giving a ‘yes’. Although Scout is Sniper’s chosen mate, the avian will need time to adjust.

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A little while later, Scout can hear commotion going on outside the camper. The little grunts and huffs he heard the other night from Sniper fill the forest. Though these seem more laborious than pleasured. The ruckus outside has Scout hurrying back into the bed. He had managed to get up to explore the camper, but now he was hiding behind the blankets. He can’t tell if its Sniper or another mercenary trying to drag him back to base. Either way, Scout is still only wearing a jacket, and there’s no way he’s putting on clean clothes just to have them soiled.

A bit longer and Sniper is stepping inside, looking at Scout in the bed. His arms are bloodied, which is worrying until Scout realizes the blood is from someone else. When blue eyes see a filthy Sniper enter the camper, Scout gasps and feels his toes curling. Obviously, a woodsman would know how to hunt, but who knew he would be so brutal? Sniper gives a grunt, simply grabbing a hunting knife from his counter and goes back out.

After another brief wait, he returns. He’s cleaned up a bit but still frazzled from the days work. Scout is a little disappointed when he comes back without blood, but he reminds himself that he isn’t in some fantasy of his. This is a real man he met who hasn’t so much as talked to another human in who knows how long. A statement indicated when Sniper does that weird little crouch again, holding up a canteen to Scout.

“Driiink…” He struggles with the word a bit before letting Scout hold it. He watches the other drink with those wild eyes, ensuring that his mate is hydrated. Can’t have him going thirsty in the woods. Sniper shoves hands into his pant pockets in search of something.

“Hnnn…f-for mate…” He says, taking out some oddities and holding it in his palm for Scout. It’s just a smooth rock, a feather, and some little flowers, but it’s oddly nice for the feral man. Funnily enough, he’s almost like a bird gifting little things to his mate. He looks at Scout with big eyes behind those yellowed glasses, hoping for approval for the pretty things he found.

“Thank you.” Scout looks down at his gifts, and a smile comes to his face. He pays most attention to the beautiful feather, running a finger over it. The solid red bristles definitely came from a cardinal. He then moves to smell the pink flowers in his palm. Its a bit hard to catch the scent, but he appreciates the gesture either way.

“I love them, babe.” Presents set aside, Sniper is brought into a kiss. Scout cups his face, eyes fluttering shut as he enjoys the gentle smooch. Sniper’s eyes brighten a bit at the supposed approval, but he’s a bit resistant at first to the touching. People tend to have bad intentions when they grab him. When they break apart, Scout scoots to his side for a hug.

“Rrgh…” He scrunches up a little but relaxes once he realizes that Scout just wanted to show him affection. He’s had some experiences with the other Mercs before and gets antsy when someone, meaning Medic, gets close to those sharp teeth of his. Still, he accepts the kiss despite the initial fussing and brings Scout in close.

“You can call me Scout, by the way. What’s your name?” Name? Sniper looks over the man, trying to work his mate’s name out of his mouth. His minimal speaking truly putting him at a disadvantage now that someone actually wants to talk to him.

“Sc..o-out…Scout…” He says, sounding a bit awkward, but getting it eventually. Sniper looks at the runner with a raised brow and tilted head. It’s not like anyone calls on him that often in the middle of nowhere, but he’s heard some references to himself before. Mostly when Medic is chasing him down for tick removal and some form of vaccination.

“Sniper…” He says, almost a bit timid at the admittance. He only hears that when someone is shouting at him, so its odd to be named. After all, the only words he ever really hears are ‘hoot’. Speaking of hoots, Sniper points up at his bird friend who looks over the two from above.

“S-Sir Hootsalot.” The bird fluffs a bit at his name, almost trying to look presentable. A few feathers slip free, which are quickly picked up and stuffed into the nest. A makeshift carpet out of the soft down feathers that keep him warm during winter.

“There you go. You don’t meet a lot of people, do you?” Scout goes to play with his hair, but he can feel the grease on it. Normally, he would ask his partner to wash themselves, but Sniper seems like the type to take offense at that. Especially after spending so much time marking him. Scout crosses his legs, using the opportunity to just cuddle the man. When the owl is mentioned, he gives a wave to the bird. Its a handsome owl that looks oddly like his owner!

‘Hoo…’ Sniper looks back to Scout, taking the coat he’d left on him and pulling the two halves closer together. He’s rather huffy about the man catching a chill despite it being springtime.

“He’s a chill dude. I’m guessing he’s your wingman?” A chuckle at his own joke. Scout looks down to see that the jacket had fallen open, and he appreciates the fussing. He takes the zipper and brings it towards his chest. Enough room for Sniper to see the marks he left as well as keeping the man inside it warm.

“M-Making..food…Done soon.” Sniper points to the door where the now crackling campfire rests. All that tussling from earlier finally clicks in Scout’s head, realizing that the man is preparing some kind of meat for dinner.

“Really? Can I see?” Standing up now, he grabs the socks he wore last night and his boots. He doesn’t bother with underwear seeing that they’re at risk of being ripped away with Sniper’s urges. Once he steps out, Scout gasps at the lit fireplace with meat roasting over it. Sniper follows, opening the door wider for Hootsalot to fly out and perch at a cutting table. He practically runs over, admiring the expertly cut flesh sitting atop the open flame.

“This is so cool! All I brought was a bunch of trail mix and dried fruit.” While the runner gushes over the cooking meats, Sniper takes a moment and feeds his avian friend a bunch of the scraps left behind. Speaking of fruit, Scout stuffed a bag into one of the pockets earlier. He sticks his hands into both side pockets, finding the crinkled bag on the left side. Scout takes opens the dried peaches, offering one to Sniper.

“Here. They’re sweet.” Seeing that the man has nonstop given him gifts, its the least he can do to return the favor. Not sure how it’ll translate into woodsman language though. Sniper has clearly made his own rules out here, and the last thing Scout wants to do is insult him. He’s got some learning to do.

As the owl enjoys his treats, Sniper sits by Scout, protecting him while stoking the fire carefully. He looks at the offered fruit a bit confused, unfamiliar to the snack. He mostly steals trail mix, granola bars, and cookies. There was also that one time he got a box of crackers. He leans in, taking a careful bite. To Sniper’s surprise, his face lightens a little, and he enjoys the rest of the piece.

“Is…good.” He hums with a nod before opening his mouth back up to Scout. Much like a dog waiting for his next treat, he sits still with eyes raised to meet the other’s. Sniper’s teeth are oddly sharp and crooked, but in an endearing way. He leans close once more, eager to have another piece of sweet fruit.

“Knew you’d like it. They were my favorite as a kid.” Scout chuckles at the open maw, but he continues feeding the woodsman. He moves closer, snuggling up to Sniper’s side. Piece by piece, the bag dwindles until only a handful are left. When the feral man turns for another peach, Scout steals a kiss. Sniper gets antsy at the smooch as his face scrunches up, but he does better at accepting it this time. Of course, any effort to snuggle is quashed when the hunter gets fussy again. He shifts and smooths the jacket before nudging Scout into place, ensuring that he’s comfortable.

“You know, this makes us boyfriends, right? No one else can have me or you.” Oh, Scout is very comfortable. He’s got his arms wrapped around Sniper’s with his face laid against his shoulder. Perfect cuddling position. He entwines their fingers and finally gives him the long awaited fruit. With the last piece gone, he crumbles the bag and puts it back into the pocket it came from. Scout lets himself relax as they watch dinner cook.

“Boy…friend..?” That phrase makes his head tilt, hunching down a bit to look at the younger. He’s confused, but understanding the sentiment of commitment. ‘Mate’ is certainly his go-to word, though. To him, it feels deeper. Anyone can be a boyfriend, but a mate? A chosen, dedicated partner to raise pups with? That means infinitely more to him.

“Mhm. Boyfriend, mate, whatever you wanna say.” To Scout, its basically the same word. Obviously, he isn’t planning on running home to tell his family that he has a ‘mate’. His brothers would never let him hear the end of it, but the word means a lot to Sniper.

“Kinda crazy how we got together. Uh, you know, cause I was looking through your stuff. Have you always lived out here? In the wild?” Given the circumstances, this feels a lot like a date. Two people in a private spot with food and a wonderful scenery. Scout smiles at that before realizing how different their upbringings are. Him with running water and Sniper with casually peeing on his mates.

“Mmn…since I was small…Don’t usually…see many people like you.” He says with a nod, stoking the fire again. Sniper has earned quite a few scars from those he’s encountered. Terrified campers with hunting knives. The one older lady who hired him with a gun to his head.

“Who do you see?” Hootsalot makes a noise, as if telling Scout the answer. His monochromatic plumage sends loose down feathers into the air. The runner watches the tiny clumps of white rock back and forth as they fall. He gathers more scrap meat and tosses it right into the waiting beak above.

“Sometimes see..other men in red…” Sniper gestures to his own shirt and class symbol. His voice is a low mutter as he digs two fingers into a shirt pocket.

“Leave these for me…” A bullet is produced. The muddy yellow shines in the fire’s glow before he drops it back in place. It was strange seeing a bullet for the first time. Sniper tried to bite into one before it was explained. That, and the gun resting in the camper. He never hunts with them however. The animal in Sniper demands the smell of blood. The sticky sensation on his palms as he lugs prey back to camp is satisfying.

“Don’t like…some.” He growls and tenses up a bit. Out of the mercenaries that have paid a visit, Sniper isn’t a fan of the one in the lab coat. He’s been caught far too many times with his guard down. After a syringe to the ass, he always wakes up scrubbed clean, including his teeth. In addition to that, he has new pricks in the shoulders from vaccines. Sniper doesn’t like the hard hat, either, who tries to fix his van, Sheila. She’s perfectly fine as is.

“Yeah, I get what you mean. That Spy is a real jerk, you know? Called me crazy for camping out here and tried to stop me. I’m not an idiot.” But Scout actually is an idiot. The elder had fought him every step of the way. Spy hid the sleeping bag, took out Scout’s food, and did anything to stop his son from spending a few days in the wilderness. If she was so concerned, she would’ve mentioned Sniper! Or maybe he did. Scout stopped listening halfway through one of his rants.

Sniper continues with his venison, turning the hunk of meat on the spit. The skinned hide rests atop a wooden rack to be used as needed. Once dinner is ready, the hunter carefully raises the spit from the flame. Scout looks around for plates or just about anything to eat with. A wooden table would do. Hell, a smooth rock is enough.

“Um, are the dishes in the camper? I can go grab them if you want.” Knife in hand, Sniper looks at him curiously as he cuts away at the meat. He thinks for a minute, trying to recall what a plate looks like. Its not the plastic thing with glass that makes light. Definitely not those metal tubes that catch minnows…

“Plate…? Oh—“ The image finally pops into his head. Standing up from his crouch and shuffling to his camper, Sniper begins searching. Campers usually throw plates of food at him, but those are made of paper. They rip apart the second it rains! After some banging and falling of pots, he returns with a cutting board. Close enough. He sets it on Scout’s lap with some utensils from an old picnic set. Better than nothing he supposes.

Back to the meat. Sniper drags his hunting knife across the venison, cutting Scout a giant slab. The sizzling steak is plopped onto the board while Sniper takes his share and eats with his hands. It’s a bit scary seeing how easy he bites in and tears off mouthfuls, especially after feeling those teeth. Scout places a hand over the bite mark from last night. Yeah, scary.

“Eafft…” He urges between a big chomp, looking over at Scout with the hunk of meat oozing red as he chews. He needs to be sure that his mate gets his fill. Pups need nutrients!

The batter cuts into his share and takes a curious bite. Blue eyes widen at how good the deer tastes. He’s never had game meat seeing that he grew up in the city. If anything, he had lamb at a fair once. Scout eats with vigor, smiling with every bite.

“It’s really good!” The slab disappears before they know it, and Scout helps Sniper finish off the rest of the cooked venison. He goes as far as to feed him a few pieces, which earns a lick to the face. Sniper does return the gesture however and goes as far as to give Scout the good sections. It would be a little more romantic if the hunter wasn’t loudly crunching on cartilage.

As they finish up, Sniper whistles softly to Sir. The owl flies down from the trees and starts to pick at the last bites of cooked meat. A little treat to himself for keeping guard. Any remaining sections have been hung up to cure in the sun with tiny bits are turned into bait.

“Man, that was the best. Thanks, Sniper.” Right as Scout goes in for a kiss, he realizes the mess on his face. Grease and meat juices form a ring around his mouth. The napkin from the utensils set already used to wipe his hands. The city boy nervously chuckles and tries to hide behind the jacket sleeve.

“Uh, got a napkin? Sorry, didn’t think I’d be so messy.” Sniper is cleaning off his fingers with his mouth and teeth, so Scout, it’s easy to see what’s coming next at that request. Frankly he wouldn’t even have pulled away at the kiss initially. However, when Scout hides behind the sleeve, Sniper slips it down and starts to slick his tongue along his mouth. Scout tries to pull back from the admittedly weird sensation, but Sniper gives a low growl and pulls him in closer as if he’s scolding him to stay still.

Well, he’s had worse kisses. Including that really awkward one behind the gymnasium in middle school. Eugh. Not a memory he thinks fondly of. Scout just stays still, eyes shut and lips flat as if it were a dog kissing him, which it kinda is. He’ll get used to the licking some day, hopefully.

Eventually, Sniper does clean the other up. A final lick to the lips and he puts that tongue away. Sniper hums as he hides his face away in the crook of Scout’s neck. He takes a deep inhale, enjoying the runner’s natural scent. However, he detects a faint smell from Spy. Faded, yes, and likely just from them working together, it makes him growl.

Those lanky legs wrap around Scout as well. Sniper holds him in close, almost afraid to let go. Someone might come look for the younger man when he spends too long in the woods. The thought of someone coming out to retrieve him makes Sniper bristle. Scout is, above all, his mate. Anyone that tries to separate them will get a nasty bullet to the head.

Meanwhile, Scout is more than happy to climb into Sniper’s lap. He doesn’t care one bit that he’s still nude from the waist down. The batter wraps his arms around the man’s neck and gives him a gentle smooch on the jaw. The stubble feels scratchy, which makes him wonder when Sniper last shaved. That’s to say if he even does so.

Curious, Scout leans in to Sniper’s neck. The man is always sniffing him, so he might as well see what the hype is about. To say he was shocked is an understatement. This probably sounds crazy, but Scout really likes Sniper’s musk. He inhales against his neck, taking in the strong scent. The sweat, the animal blood, all the little things that make him smell so masculine. Stuff like that is making his face go red. Scout subtly adjusts himself, trying to keep his cool in Sniper’s lap.

“Don’t like…that Spy…Always trickin’ m-me…” He’s growling now. Sniper holds Scout tighter as his lip curls into a frown. That rotten Frenchie always has a snide remark to make. His disguises are the worst too. If it weren’t for those cigarettes clinging to his clothes, the bastard would have the upper hand. Sniper enjoys them too, but only one brand or any he rolls himself. Not those fancy imports Spy boasts about.

“Yeah, he’s a real piece of shit. I’m glad she’s not out here.” If she does show up, Scout has no problem shoving a stick where the sun doesn’t shine. However, he trusts Sniper will take care of things before he even lifts a finger. Scout gives his mate a kiss on the lips before pausing. He leans in and hesitantly licks his nose. The batter laughs, face red and trying not to overthink the gesture.

That little lick is sending Sniper over the moon. He emits a purr, quick to do the same before nuzzling Scout. Their faces rub despite the scratchy stubble. Sniper then moves to rubbing against Scout’s hair, ensuring that their scents mix. The runner only laughs more and welcomes the affection.

“You know, since we’re having a baby, we gotta think of names.” Sniper pauses with a curious sound. Scout leans in, smooching down the bushman’s neck. Lips travel right over the adam’s apple to make Sniper shiver. He knows its shameful to do it out in the open a second time, but they’re totally alone!

“We’ll need a long list since you want lots of pups.” Pups Scout is happy to provide. Before transitioning, he would have laughed at the thought of giving birth. It never sat right until he realized a few things, one of which is that it makes him no less of a man. Even five kids won’t take away the fact that Scout is a man. He can always ask Medic to help postpartum should he want a few adjustments.

For now, Scout is playing a dangerous game. Sniper bristles once more at those words, only getting shakier as Scout huffs on his neck and kisses along it. Eyes turn hazy behind those yellowed glasses, and Sniper gets a little limp in Scout’s grasp. If he had a tail, it would certainly be thumping on the ground right now. Hard and fast until it left a dent in the earth.

“U-Uh-huh…” Sniper nods, his grip starting to tighten around Scout’s form. He’s getting awfully excited at just the idea, feeling himself harden again. His pants tent in the blink of an eye and press into his mate.

Careful, a man who’s spent his life alone in the woods has quite the libido, but Scout knows exactly what he’s doing. Sniper is a simple man, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what gets him going. As a young man himself, the batter’s libido is just as high if not greater.

“P-Pups…Want…pups…” He huffs, nuzzling into the crook of Scout’s neck again. The American tilts his head, allowing Sniper to sniff the warm expanse as much as he wants. His bare cunt damp against the pants he sits atop of. Scout hopes he can feel the wetness through it.

“Mhm. Me too, daddy. You wanna take this inside, or should we do it by the fire?” When Scout suggests that, Sniper would usually prefer it, but he instead gives a little growl and holds tighter. Guess he doesn’t wish to leave the position they’re in right now. Scout sits up, bringing his hands to Sniper’s face for a kiss. He pushes the woodsman’s head back, sinking into their smooch. Its not the best considering Sniper doesn’t brush, but he bears with it.

Now that he’s properly excited, Sniper tries to reciprocate the kiss, but ends up making a mess of the both of them. The bloke is just about attacking poor Scout with his tongue, fumbling and awkward as he tries to understand this new affection. Still, he’s certainly trying, if not overwhelming Scout with all the tongue trying to shove into his kisses. The runner braces himself against Sniper, nearly toppling over from the intense make out. Once they part, Scout smiles.

“My chest is gonna get heavy. Hope you don’t mind drinking some milk to help~.” The younger grinds against his lap, moaning right into Sniper’s ear. Another thing he made peace with when it came to pregnancy. Grateful as he is for being flat, he needs to grow a few cups to feed their kids. Scout pulls back and bats his eyes while opening the jacket to reveal pink nipples.

Sniper’s eyes gloss over at the thought, imagining his mate with a swollen chest that needs relieving. Constantly leaving Scout tender and whiny from nursing his tits. As soon as his eyes lock on that bare chest, despite it being the opposite of voluptuous, Sniper is stuffing his head in the jacket.

Before he does anything, he raises a brow at the giant tattoo. The feral man is unfamiliar with such a thing. The bright colors make him think Scout fell on top of some kind of berry. He licks and sniffs, glowering when he sees another man’s face. Definitely not familiar with this, and Sniper plans to show this mystery person that Scout is his mate. The Australian just barely grazes his teeth over the tender nipples before kissing and latching onto a small bud.

The younger keens with delight. Toes curl with teeth chomping down onto his bottom lip. Scout moans louder, holding Sniper against his chest while the man works his hard nipple. Those sharp teeth threaten to give him a free piercing if he isn’t careful. Hootsalot flutters back to the camper, giving a soft ‘hoo’ to the couple as they get busy.

“Mng, ah~. I wanna p-pick the position. Got it?” Scout huffs, curling his fingers in that dark hair. He barely notices the grease this time around, and even if he did, he wouldn’t mind. His t-dick is pressed against the man and given delicious rubbing. Honestly, Scout could very easily cum from this alone.

“Hmnn…?” Sniper looks up at that last phrase without letting go of the teat. Different position? He wants to fuss and keep things the same, but he’s too riled up to care now. He just nods as he moves to the other side of Scout’s chest.

“Just lemme take care of it, okay? You enjoy yourself, daddy~.” Scout reaches for the woodsman’s crotch and palms him through the pants. He’s rubbing along the sides, gripping the best he can before pulling down his zipper. Fly open, he finds a lack of underwear on the man. Typical for the outdoors type. Scout kisses him on the forehead as praise and takes ahold of Sniper.

“Babe you’re amazing. Mnn…I can’t wait any longer. I need you.” Spit lands on his fingers, and the runner rubs it over the man’s shaft. It makes his jerks much smoother than a bare hand. He gives a nice tug that causes Sniper to jerk his hips. The heels of Sniper’s boots scrape against the dirt as Scout pump him off, not used to being held back like this.

He behaves for now and poorly kisses Scout as he tries to thrust into his hand excitedly. Even when held back, he’s very excited as he looks up at Scout when his drooling starts up again. Might have to start tying him down to take control more often, Scout.

The American shifts, hips raised just enough for him to lay the thick head against his cunt. He nudges the first inch in then pulls it out, gliding his wet folds over Sniper’s tip. That little tease has the bushman emitting a frustrated growl, body shaking as he tries to push into Scout. When the American meets that needy gaze, he’s unable to resist a smile crawling onto his face.

“That’s what you do to me, Snipes~.” With the head coated in slick, Scout gradually sinks down until he’s seated once more. A long groan slips, but the man takes ahold of Sniper’s shoulders.

“Hah..Hahhh…” Arms wrap tight around Scout, and Sniper starts to buck up into the younger hard. He groans into that exposed chest, pace quick and unrelenting. The forest holds no bars when it comes to the sounds. Loud smacks and guttural groans from Sniper seem to almost amplify through the trees as he goes at Scout shamelessly.

“Hnng~! Shit!” The rough pace immediately after sinking down has Scout gasping for air. He clings to the man, shaking from the abuse to his cunt. When it comes to the feral man, he loves the fast, mindless bucking most of all. The younger moans into the trees, clit snug against Sniper and receiving much needed friction. Scout returns the tight embrace, forcing their bodies to nearly melt together.

“M-Mate…love…mate…” He pants out, drooling all over his chest as Sniper looks up to his face. His sharp chin rests atop Scout’s heart, allowing him an easy view of glossy, half lidded eyes. His cute expression a stark contrast to how hard he’s fucking down below.

“O-Oh, my god! Oh, my god! Yes! It’s so fucking good~!” That lovestruck look tugs at Scout’s heartstrings, making the organ race inside him. If it wasn’t already pounding from their raunchy sex, it definitely is now. A blush comes to his face, which is quickly hidden when Scout doubles over and squeals.

“There! Oh, daddy, there! I love you~!” Shifting his hips, the runner guides Sniper to the sweet spot deep inside. Feeling Scout adjust himself, Sniper huffs with frustration but shows some restraint as he slows down a small bit. Its the least he can do for his mate. When Scout gives a sound that his g-spot was hit again, he’s right back to plowing up into him. Although having to wait, Sniper is pleased now that he’s listening to those cries of pure pleasure echoing into the woods. Every pound into the tender tissue makes Scout’s lips purse and legs tremble.

“Nng~! S-Sniper! Haah~! I’m gonna cum!” He pants hard, feeling his t-dick throb from grinding against the bushman with every bounce. Scout cups his mate by the face, looking down into those lovestruck eyes. Mostly to boost his own ego, but also because he can’t resist the man. Like a newlywed on his honeymoon, he utterly adores his lover.

“Rrgh..!” Sniper hisses between grit teeth as he feels Scout start to tighten on him, wanting to continue jackhammering. However, the clenches make his legs shiver against the other’s sides. He falters, allowing that last pillar within to come crumbling down.

“Sc…ouuwwtt…!” He struggles to say the word again, but Sniper really tries, before he’s pulled into a deep kiss. Scout can feel those pathetic whines and guttural noises against his lips. Sniper’s eyelids slip down as his pupils widen beneath them. Those cute moans are muffled by the runner’s tongue while Sniper pumps him full once again without hesitation.

“Hmnn..Mmn…” Sniper whines softly in that muffled way. His sloppy tongue makes a mess out of their kisses as he instinctively want to stay buried inside of the other. Thrusts are traded for grinds that massage Scout on the womb.

Oh, he’s so cute like this. Those heavy eyes and feral moans make Scout feel a certain way. The younger squeezes Sniper both in his arms and around his throbbing cock. Eyes twitching and mouth agape, Scout feels his squirt soak Sniper’s crotch. He sobs into the kiss, feeling tears run down his cheeks.

“Ooh~! Oh, my god! Y-Yes! S-Sniper~!” That load of hot semen makes Scout whine. He keeps himself firmly planted in Sniper’s lap, huffing and groaning as the intense feelings wind down. He rests his head against the woodsman and idly draws shapes on his chest. The batter takes a peek at his face, blushing for no real reason.

“I love you.” With that, Sniper gets a smooch! God, Scout loves kissing this man. It’s his favorite way of showing him affection. Plus, Sniper looks cute when he gets confused by it. Speaking of, he does give that confused look behind his glasses at the kiss again. The bushman still not used to the sudden pecks versus licks. He’ll learn eventually, though.

“What were we talking about again?” Scout pauses, trying to think with his horny brain. It isn’t going too well. Scout hums, looking around with the hope of his memory jogging. His eyes land on the trees when Sniper suddenly pets his stomach. That’s when it clicks.

“Oh, right! Baby names. Are you hoping for a boy or a girl?” Scout won’t pull off of Sniper just yet. He’s weirdly comfy like this. Meanwhile, Sniper is hardly listening to Scout’s words. That primal mind of his just melting happily as Scout keeps him inside as they sit. He looks up at the last question, giving a little groan of acknowledgment when Scout speaks. He certainly lacks the energy that the hyperactive runner has, especially after a day of hunting, a big meal, and fucking.

“…mmnn.” He huffs, chin resting on Scout’s chest, eyes nearly shut. His nose is laid right atop the heart, feeling it beat while enjoying his comforting scent. Scout adores how cute he is like this. He strokes the dirty hair, slow and gentle as Sniper begins to fall asleep. Looks like they won’t be moving for awhile, but neither of them mind.

“Any good…But no good with names…mmngh.” Sniper nods in agreement to his own statement. The runner hums, allowing his boyfriend to lean against him. Just for the hell of it, he licks Sniper on the tip of his nose once again. It earns a happy, yet exhausted, purr.

“I’ll think of a few. You go to sleep, babe.” With that, Sniper is down for the count. He snuggles Scout with protective arms around him. The American continues stroking his hair and kisses his forehead. Good mate.

Chapter Text

It was another early morning when Scout awoke. This time, Sniper was in bed with him. The protective man had arms and legs surrounding Scout beneath the blankets. Wrapped so tightly, the runner was actually sweating to death. He carefully peels himself away, grimacing at how sweaty his skin feels under the jacket. Now that he thinks about it, Scout’s entire body feels disgusting. Piss, cum, and grime cake the man’s skin in unholy layers.

“Ugh, I need a bath.” He picks up his backpack and pulls out a towel. With the cloth slung over his shoulder, Scout heads out of the camper. Sniper won’t mind if he’s gone for a bit, right? Its just to take a bath. He passed a river when he first stumbled upon the camper. With the bushman and his owl fast asleep, Scout made his way to the free bath.

Despite how deeply the hunter sleeps, his ears are trained to pick up the slightest sound. The same goes for Hootsalot, whose eyes flicker open. A creak from one of Scout’s footsteps stirred the pair from their slumber. Sniper grumbles, eyes bleary before he rubs them.

“Scout…hmm?” He feels around the bed until he realizes that its empty. Sniper sniffs, only able to catch the fleeting scent of his mate. Panic settles into his lithe body. Someone took Scout. Those men in red are taking him and the pups away. Sniper whines, scrambling to leave the nest and burst out of the camper. Hootsalot flies ahead, guiding his companion through the dense trees.

“Hoo! Hoo!” Just ahead, Hootsalot can see Scout waist deep in the river and scrubbing himself. Trails of brown run down his chest and legs into the water below. As Sniper approaches, he gives a disheartened whimper. Scout was washing his scent away! The bushman runs to the shore, halting right before he could touch the water.

Scout simply waves but soon sees the distress in the man’s eyes. He paces along the shore, whimpering and huffing as he stares at the runner. The towel and jacket he slung over a branch is perched upon by Hootsalot. Said owl joins in Sniper’s distress with loud hoots.

Hurrying out of the water, Scout is quickly brought into an embrace. The kind act quickly turns filthy when Sniper begins to rut. His mud caked pants smear dirt onto the batter’s wet legs. Greasy hair drags along his skin, causing Scout to cringe. He just washed all of that off!

“M-Mate…! Scent!” Sniper pulls him away from the river before continuing. He covers Scout’s face and neck in saliva with that overactive tongue. God, does it ever stop?! Scout shoves himself away, trying to make his way back into the water.

“Snipes, chill out! Its just a bath!” Water cupped by hands, Scout splashes it onto his face. A snarl emits from behind. When he turns to look at Sniper, the man snaps his jaws. He then marches to where his jacket hangs and snatches it from the branch. To think he had done so much for Scout! Scenting, breeding, and cooking for him just to have it thrown in his face. The nerve!

“Are you serious?” The American is equally offended. He grits his teeth, watching as Sniper and Hootsalot make their way back to the camper. Did one bath really undo everything from the past two days? One bath?!

Scout finishes and takes his towel. He wraps himself around the waist and marches down that same path. He’s not letting the guy who probably impregnated him get away that easy! Sniper is gonna learn a thing or two whether his stubborn self wants to or not.

The camper door is swung open to reveal a sulking bushman. He’s curled up like a dog on the mattress, clinging to his coat. With just one look at the younger, he huffs and sinks into his smelly pile. Scout crosses his arms before pulling the blankets back to expose Sniper.

“Hnnn….bad…mate.” He growls before snapping his jaw once more. Scout watches the man circle him like a dog, before unleashing a deep growl. Teeth bared and eyes narrowed, its a clear demand for Scout to get out.

“Growl at me again, and you’re gonna regret it.” Too bad for Sniper. As the youngest brother, Scout learned to be assertive to get what he wanted. Right now, he wants his twig of a boyfriend to get over the bath. It’s not like he used soap or perfumes! Scout can definitely still smell the piss clinging to his skin.

Sniper lowers to the ground, defensive but still wanting his sweet little mate back. He whines, nudging Scout on the thigh with puppy eyes. He has to smell like him! If he doesn’t, then anyone could try to steal the runner. Sniper licks his skin, back to circling before tugging at the towel. The pure white fabric quick to stain from his filthy hands. Scout makes a note not to let Sniper finger him.

A sigh. The Aussie has made his stance pretty obvious; scenting means the world to him. Scout didn’t mind it during sex, but afterwards? What if one of the others visit? Still, those sad eyes just break his heart. Scout hesitates, trying to weigh the pros and cons of going without a bath for the rest of his life.

“Okay, okay. Stink me up, babe.” Towel thrown aside, Scout falls backwards into their nest. He spreads eagle much to Sniper’s joy. The bushman pounces with a cheerful purr. Like the first night they fucked, pants soak with piss to smear onto Scout. Sniper rubs their faces together, happy to have his mate back in bed.

“Mmn…g-good Scout….smell good.” He licks him on the mouth and face before moving to the neck. There, Sniper gives a few nips and nibbles. Nothing too crazy, but the runner’s neck soon blooms pink with red indents across the patches.

“N-No baff…” A grimace from Scout. Yeah, no, years of filth caked onto his skin isn’t gonna work. He can’t outright refuse though. There’s gotta be a middle ground or something! Scout takes a moment to think while the bushman is busy rutting his thigh like an animal.

“Bath once a week.” Another grumble, but Sniper isn’t pulling away. Instead, he lays atop the American. He’s slightly out of breath, and a quick peek shows that he came on Scout’s bush. The hunting jacket is loose so that it acts like a blanket for them. Scout wraps his arms over the man’s neck and rolls his eyes.

“You’re lucky you’re cute, you know that?” More soft grumbling. Scout looks up to the ceiling while his lover takes a nap. Out of all his fantasies, none of them involved any sort of aftermath. Just a nasty, disrespectful fuck and he goes home. Weirdly enough, Scout is liking this kind of story. He can’t predict it or make any expectations, so everything will truly come as a surprise. Guess all he can do is wait.

Chapter Text

Months later, Scout’s stomach was swelling. So much so that Medic had to visit and make sure everything was alright. Of course, they were away from the camper while Sniper was combing the woods for dinner. It took a lot of meat scraps to keep Hootsalot quiet long enough for a checkup.

Scout leans against a tree, hands at his side to give the doctor room. He holds still while Medic lays his stethoscope against the stomach. Carefully, he slides the metal end over the skin and listens. He pauses right atop the navel, eyes narrowing before Medic stands up.

“Ah, that explains it!” Tucking the stethoscope into his lab coat, Medic takes out a clipboard. He scribbles a few notes, much to Scout’s worry. Is he sick? Why is his stomach so big? There has to be something!

“Give it to me straight, Doc. Do I have worms?” Scout places both hands over his stomach as a frown tugs to his face. The disgusting things are probably wriggling around inside him right now! Its his own fault, really. He didn’t wait to boil the water Sniper collected. He was just so thirsty!

“What—? Nein, Scout, you don’t have worms. You’re pregnant.” Medic gives him a curious look at the strange question. Although he would love nothing more than to deworm someone, solely because he’s a freak, this was not the case for Scout. No, far from it. A pregnancy! Medic wants to pinch himself to make sure this isn’t a dream.

To say the least, Medic is absolutely shocked to find out that this is why Scout has been missing. When the camping excursion went one day passed schedule, Spy arranged a search party. The men scanned every corner of the woods, certain that their runner was lost or injured. Lo and behold, the doctor found Scout collecting berries with the busman at his side. Sniper had to be restrained in order for Medic to explain his presence without contracting rabies.

Scout begged the German to not take him back. Sniper would hunt every last one of them until Scout returned to the nest. An uproar that the Administrator would go to the extremes to subdue. Medic hesitated at first, but he decided it was for the best if Scout stayed. His only condition was permission to check in from time to time. If he can keep an eye on Scout, that brings him one step closer to the bushman. Sniper wasn’t dramatic with his distain; Medic would love to go full veterinarian on a feral man.

Thankfully, said man isn’t present. Off on another hunt to keep his loving mate well fed. Still, Medic is more than happy to poke and prod at Scout’s developing form. He certainly never expected one of the mercs to become pregnant let alone allow him to examine them. He brought every tool to analyze Scout when the runner could no longer confuse the baby bump for sudden weight gain.

“Huh? B-But, how could….” Scout looks around, trying to rationalize how he could be pregnant. That’s when he recalls every moment he was bred by Sniper. From their first meeting to just two nights ago, the pair had taken almost every chance to roll around together. Even Scout is guilty of pouncing on his bushman after a successful hunt.

“Oh, right. Yeah, that makes sense.” Part of the blame definitely falls onto him. He teased and promised the Aussie one too many times about having babies. Still, technically speaking, Sniper was the one who never pulled out. It’s really on both of them, right?

“However, your size is concerning at this stage.” While Scout was lost in thought, Medic had withdrawn a tape measure and wrapped it around Scout’s waist. Typically, it would take until the second trimester to reach the milestone Scout crossed. The runner has only lived in the woods for three months at most.

“I knew it! I do have worms!” Scout covers his face, groaning into his palms. It’s all his fault! Now he’s pregnant and infected with worms! What if the baby can’t get enough food? Is it even safe for Scout to take medicine?

“There are no worms in you!” Tape measure tucked back into his bag, Medic is moments from storming away. If this is how a future father behaves, he has very little hope for the couple. The promise of a half feral baby does impress the doctor however. How it learns to speak, eat, and even walk…the research potential is endless!

“Did it ever occur to you that you could be having twins?” The suggestion has Scout frozen. Any concern over worms or parasites washes away as his eyes trail downward. Hands lay atop the rounded stomach. The chance was always there. Twins run in his family, which is unnaturally large on its own. Scout himself an uncle to several kids despite his relatively young age.

He glances at Medic, and the firm look on the doctor shows that he was serious. Without a proper lab full of equipment, the two are left to guess. One kid is easy, but to start with twins? Scout refuses to even think about what might happen to his job. Both himself and Sniper will be out of commission for quite awhile. Not like the bushman would consider a babysitter either.

“Twins…?” Once again, reality creeps in on Scout. He saved plenty, both in cash and Tom Jones merchandise to cash in on upon his death. What about his Ma? Hell, his brothers? He has to tell them eventually. God, what if they flip out and call animal control?

Scout shakes away those thoughts. He can do this. No family starts out with everything handed to them. Well, maybe the rich ones, but Scout hates those people. His Ma did just fine raising eight boys when those bastards decided to abandon ship. Scout can raise twins with his boyfriend!

“Thanks, doc. Keep things quiet for us, alright?” Another vow of silence Medic is happy to uphold. With the news, Scout hurries to the camper and smothers himself in Sniper’s clothes. He wraps the prized hunting jacket around himself and rubs his back against their mattress. Anything to hide Medic’s scent. Once properly scented, the runner holds his stomach. He blinks, nearly in tears at the thought of having two babies to bring into the world. How the hell is any of this meant to play out?

Chapter Text

Sniper has not changed much since first latching his teeth on the runner’s neck besides becoming a little more vocal. He’s also not so choppy in speech now. His feral behavior is unchanged though. In fact, he became even more so the moment Scout started to show the slightest bump. All he needed was the confirmation to celebrate. Sniper caught his best meal and covered Scout in endless kisses. Scout took the opportunity to teach Sniper cunnilingus that night as reward. Both men passed out that night, exhausted and covered in each other’s body fluids.

Hootsalot has earned several large dinners as thanks for keeping unwelcome guests away from his camp. Deer liver, fish guts, and the likes. Enough meat to add an extra pound to his feathery body. Not that anyone notices when Hootsalot ruffles himself. His plumage masks his actual size rather well.

Scout has also changed since being invited to the camper. Without a haircut, his brown strands now reach his ears in a fluffy heap. A deer bone comb keeps it tamed. His chest has reached a squishy yet sore B cup, which Sniper insists on diving face first into. Scout also developed a tan from spending the daytime with Sniper. Races through the forest, swimming in the river, and afternoon leatherwork left the American a few shades darker. No longer pale next to Sniper, he now has a warm beige tone.

Now, the city boy has reached five months of pregnancy with two healthy, well fed babies. Scout is curled up against Sniper, wrapped in blankets and the man’s prized jacket. The precious clothing has become the only thing Scout wears these days. Blue eyes slip open as hunger nags at the young mercenary. He emits a yawn, wishing the twins would let him sleep just a little longer.

“Mmnn…” Sniper groans, cuddling more into Scout with a sigh as he keeps the other warm. Most of the meat on his bones resides on his paunchy stomach, but the rest is straight bone. Thankfully, Sniper has added several more blankets to his nasty nest for his mate over the months. Winter is quickly approaching, and Sniper is very snippy about Scout staying warm and fed.

“Morning, babe. Did you sleep good?” Lips are laid to the woodsman’s forehead as Scout rouses from slumber. The runner sits up, groaning from the weight in his stomach. He suddenly grunts, reeling from a sharp pain that Scout realizes was a kick. He gasps, reaching over to nudge Sniper awake.

“Babe, look! One of the babies is kicking!” Scout is quick to place a rough hand right on his stomach. Sniper is still sleepy but quick to sit up at the mention of the litter. His heavy eyes widen when a foot presses to his fingers, and Sniper nuzzles Scout’s neck. Another tiny foot hits against his palm.

“Good mate…Keep pups cozy…” He says as his sign of approval. His dirty hand touches the stomach excitedly as the sensations continue. Much to Scout’s dismay, for the baby is landing blows to his bladder left and right. Thank god he didn’t drink before bed last night.

“They’re as cozy as my womb gets.” Scout gives him another kiss on the cheek. A hand bumps against the woodsman’s before settling once more. The two have gotten more active as of late. Mostly during the day, but Scout has been awoken by a few rude slaps to his uterus.

He plays with Sniper’s hair for a moment, twirling the greasy strand with his finger until his stomach rumbles. Two extra mouths to feed has left Scout much hungrier as of late. Nothing his boyfriend can’t handle with successful hunts. Both animals and running off with backpacks of food from campers. Turns out Sniper really likes pudding!

“Time for breakfast. Come on, we should get up before the pups complain.” Reaching towards the wall, Scout grabs it with one hand and hoists himself up with a groan. The extra weight on his stomach makes the task more difficult each day. He knew carrying would have its obstacles, but this is just silly.

He waddles to the kitchen, opening a few cabinets to check for food. It took persuasion, but Scout convinced Sniper to organize his cupboards instead of throwing random junk into them. It took almost a full afternoon for them to reorganize. Now, one is dedicated for food and another for all the treasures he’s brought the city boy.

“We should get chicken. I’m really craving it. Oh, and bacon. Some onion rings, uh, a mcrib with extra sauce, couple watermelon slices, some nachos too. Oh, oh, and a salad to keep it healthy.” Scout takes out a bag of trail mix and begins eating it for now. He’s mostly having the candy part first then moving on to the nuts and a couple raisins. The dried bananas are a hard pass for the babies.

The moment Scout mentions a meal, Sniper is quickly getting up, going to tend to the other’s hunger. He only half-listens as the other lists off the foods he’s craving, already running down the list of prey that could be caught this time of day in this weather. Aka, he won’t be catching any onion rings (not unless they grow legs and run through the forest).

Sniper sees that the other has a snack to satiate him, so he steps out and calls Hootsalot. The owl hoots from his little perch by the fire pit. His silent wings glide him to land upon Sniper’s arm like a falcon. Sniper, numb to the talons sinking into his skin, brings him into the camper to stand guard.

“You know, we should start a garden. Wouldn’t that be cute? It would look so nice outside and everyone can see how much we love each other. Cause-Cause we’re soulmates.” Here come the waterworks. Scout sniffles, hating his emotional spells. They come and go in random bursts that leave Scout more confused than ever. Is he so in love it makes him cry, or is he just a fat, emotional loser?

“Its stupid. Forget it! I’m dumb and don’t know anything.” The second Scout starts to cry, Hootsalot’s head spins around to look at the man. Sniper throws his head over his shoulder, feeling a pang of distress coursing through him. He doesn’t quite know how to handle these fits after his emotional intelligence has deteriorated from being a loner. Still, Hootsalot flies to his usual spot while Sniper comes to Scout and grabs at him in a weird hug.

“No, nooo…” He grunts softly, rubbing his face against Scout’s to try and awkwardly wipe away his tears. He even gives a little lick to the side of his face, roughly nuzzling the crook of his neck.

“N-Nooo sad…take care of mate…” Sniper brings him in closer, trying to will away the sadness. From the couples he’s terrorized, Sniper noticed that they always hug while screaming. Occasionally, one gets thrown down as sacrifice. That’s where he learned what ‘divorce’ and ‘we are so over’ meant.

“I-I’m sorry. Its the stupid hormones. God, I’m a mess.” Scout wipes his face, choking on the tears as his lip quivers. He sniffles, trying to calm himself down. He takes shallow breaths before exhaling. Now that he’s calmed down, the American returns the embrace while being mindful of his heavy stomach. Scout smiles and licks Sniper on his nose.

“You’re a good mate, Snipes. I’m so happy we’re gonna be parents together.” Cue a kick to the liver. Scout grunts, body doubling over from the sudden blow. Sniper whimpers, licking Scout on the face to help the pain.

“Think we should hurry up with food. They’re getting impatient.” Picking up the trail mix, Scout shovels more into his mouth to satisfy the needy babies. He leans against the counter, face still red from crying. Bite after bite, the bag is reduced to the dried bananas, which now seem much more appetizing. When the trail mix is finished, he opts for the cured meat they have from a previous kill.

As Sniper turns to begin another hunt, Hootsalot doubles in size. His feathers stick outward, standing straight from his skin. A shriek fills the camper, and the bird bursts outside. Feathers smack against something as if to punch it like a human. Loud squawks override the sound of pained screams.

Scout scurries to cover his exposed skin with the jack and a blanket tied around his hips. The couple run outside to see Spy struggling to keep Hootsalot at arm’s length. The massive bird manages a sharp peck to her shoulder before being pushed back again. Upon his hands are leather gloves, protecting the delicate skin from talons. The razors attempt to claw the man to shreds where his beak falls short.

“Get your bird under control!” Sniper snarls and lunges at the Frenchman. Scout watches in awe as his boyfriend sinks his teeth into the woman’s leg. The American cradles his stomach, not making even the slightest effort to stop any of this. Sniper growls and Hootsalot screeches. One rips and one pecks. If it weren’t for his stomach, Scout would bash Spy in the head with a tree branch.

“The hell do you want?” Scout brings himself to the side of the camper, leaning against the wall with a creak. His arms are crossed as Spy struggles to defend herself. He manages to draw a knife, waving it towards Hootsalot and Sniper. Both make a hesitant retreat, snapping jaws and flapping feathers at the man.

Spy gives an exasperated sigh. His eyes flip between both creatures, waiting for them to end the fight. Sniper lowers to the ground, grumbling to Hootsalot. The woodsman crawls to his mate, staring at Spy in case she tries anything. His owl sits upon a tree branch, waiting for the kill signal. His massive eyes are locked on that vulnerable neck of Spy’s.

Despite the bleeding bite on his leg, which warrants several vaccinations, the well dressed woman is still standing. Scout wishes she had died, but he can’t have it all, can he? Spy lowers his knife to straighten his shredded tuxedo.

“Do you realize how irresponsible this is? Children, Scout?” Oh, is Spy pissed. One minute, his son goes camping, and the next, he’s pregnant. Pregnant! Leave it to Scout to get knocked up within the span of 24 hours. Spy would love nothing more than a grandchild, but not one born from these circumstances!

“Medic told you?” Legs shake as Scout pulls a frown. How could he? The doctor swore to secrecy, promising to hold his tongue until the couple were ready. To be fair, Scout was dragging out the reveal, but he was gonna do it! Eventually. Someday….

“I have eyes.” Spy is currently keeping them at Scout’s face. Although her son had the decency to cover himself, the Frenchman would rather not go below the neckline. He can’t bear to be reminded of Scout’s bloated stomach.

“Its none of your business, Spy. Go away.” It certainly is Spy’s business seeing that in just a few months, she’s going to be a grandmother. At least Scout waited until his hair began to gray. Still, it feels much to soon for Spy’s liking. What’s next? Sore knees and stiff joints? Crow’s feet?!

“Look at where you’re giving birth! A pungent, decaying van! You and the children will get sick!” Spy gestures to the broken taillights, flat tires, and the literal rust eating through the side of the camper. Adults might survive a place like this, but infants? Not a chance!

“Mate stays at home!” Sniper barks out. He’s glaring at Spy for even insinuating that the camper is unfit for birthing. If Scout can sleep in it, then he can have babies in it. That includes the hammock they recently stole from campers. Although cozy, Scout has trouble getting in due to his limited flexibility.

“It’s fine! I got it all figured out!” The runner isn’t an idiot. He can plan an at home birth. He’s the master at planning! Planners should be named after him, honestly. Too busy thinking about himself, Scout doesn’t notice Spy’s deadpanned face.

“Do tell then. I want to hear every step.” Out of habit, he reaches for a cigarette. The grunt from Sniper reminds the European of the pregnant man standing just a few feet away. Much to her disdain, she puts the lighter back in place for the time being. If only he had a bottle of wine.

“Well, I go in labor, and then, uh, we put some blankets down on the bed. After that, I give birth.” Scout thinks for a moment then nods. That was the plan he discussed with Sniper. The hunter showed him the good blankets, which had minimal stains and almost no rips, they would use. Just the two of them in the camper to welcome their precious babies.

“You are not giving birth on that flea infested mattress.” Spy peers through one of the broken windows and covers her mouth. She barely managed to suppress a gag from the sight. Rotting wood, mildew clinging to the walls, and overall just plain filth.

“Got rid of fleas…” Thanks to Hootsalot of course. The avian spent an entire day pecking out each little bug after Sniper awoke with one clinging to his leg. And to think Medic suggested fumigation! A perfectly good owl with a big appetite was right there all along.

This is far from convincing Spy. He rolls his eyes, fighting the urge to light a cigarette for the stress welling inside. She steps closer to Scout, but the snarl from Sniper pushes her back. With a huff, he turns away from the bushman.

“You will be in a sterile room with a doctor and anesthesia. Newborns are too fragile for this environment.” A memory flashes in his mind. The scrubs she donned as her partner was brought to the labor unit. That tiny, wailing baby named Jeremy laid against his mother’s chest. It was the longest he had gone without a cigarette. It was the most delicate moment of her life.

“Hospitals won’t let Sniper in! I can’t have him miss the birth!” Scout needs him there. He needs the nuzzles and licks to keep him from giving up in frustration. What kind of mate would he be to deny Sniper that tender moment? He has to be the first to see their babies; not strangers dressed in blue scrubs.

“Can we at least find a compromise?” She’s growing desperate. Even from outside, she can smell the filth coming from the camper. Those precious babies will be sick before the day ends. And Scout? With his torn open body, he’ll be lucky to last three days!

Spy knows Medic can help, but to what extent? Can he guarantee that Spy’s family will be okay? That the medigun will make it all seem like a simple cold? Of course not. She can’t trust him. She can’t trust anyone! Spy would rather die then let his grandchildren fall sick.

“No! I’m never talking to you again, you judgmental asshole!” Scout brushes past the man, beelining towards the camper. He wobbles slightly, using the handrail for balance. Spy moves to help him, but Hootsalot flaps aggressively. She can only watch as the couple shut the door behind themselves.

Inside the camper, Scout buries his face into his hands and groans. Stupid Spy. Stupid concerns about stupid germs and stuff he’s too angry to remember right now! He kneels down to the mattress before laying on his back to decompress. Stupid hormones.

“Is mate okay…?” Sniper crawls in next to him, pawing to see Scout’s face. The American looks tired. Angry and tired. With a whine, he licks his tears away. A gesture that never fails to pull a smile onto his face.

“I’m fine, babe. Spy is just a jerk.” Scout ditches the blanket around his hips. The jacket is unzipped, exposing his bare chest to the world once more. When the fabric shifts, Scout feels something wet. He pulls the jacket wide open to investigate, revealing wet nipples.

“Damnit, they’re leaking again. Do you mind?” In past couple of months, Scout’s chest has begun to leak milk. The first time it happened was when the couple went stargazing. White droplets rolled down the American’s chest much to his surprise. It only took a mere second before Sniper was draining his tits.

The huntsman, of course, jumps to drink from Scout. His tongue swirls the areola and laps at the milk he pulls from the man. Sniper shuts his eyes to enjoy his treat. Its not everyday that they leak, so he takes every opportunity presented to him.

Scout gasps, gripping the mattress as Sniper pins him. He runs a hand through the messy hair and moans when the Aussie gently bites down. God, he loves this feeling. Sniper emptying his tits like a starved animal makes his t-dick twitch. He reaches a hand down, rubbing the bud in quick circles.

“Mmn…sweet….” Sniper pulls off from one only to take the other into his mouth. The squirming legs below a clear sign that he’s doing his job right. He runs a hand over the stretch marks on Scout’s stomach. Sniper was bewildered to see them for the first time, but now he’s obsessed. Each one a reminder that Scout is having their pups.

Eventually, Sniper releases Scout once his teats are emptied. Head lifted from the breast, the sight below is stunning. A heavily pregnant Scout lays with bright pink nipples and two fingers jerking his t-dick. Sniper drools and rubs his own erection with vigor. He did this to his mate. He made Scout’s chest fat from milk and stuffed his womb with pups. What else could he need in life?

Scout tries to sit up only to lay right back down with a groan. Sniper moves closer, allowing Scout to reach his pants. He unzips Sniper’s pants and takes out the throbbing cock trapped in the fabric. Scout gives the needy shaft a few kisses along the vein. It’s so cute how the hunter bucks from the gesture. Sniper tries to push his way into Scout’s mouth only to be rejected, which earns a sad whine.

Scout chuckles and gives him a pity kiss on the tip. He lays back again, legs spread to display his soaked hole. Carefully, Sniper is guided towards it. The moment he grazes wet folds, the hunter sinks deep. His back arches and hips begin their usual rut. That is, until Scout pushes his mate back slightly.

“We have to be gentle, okay? For the pups.” Although Scout loves being pounded into oblivion, his stomach is too delicate now. He can’t risk Sniper jostling him like a wild buck until after the birth. Even Medic advised against ‘rigorous activities’. A subtle way of telling Scout to hold off on his kinky wilderness sex.

“Gentle…gentle for…mate…” Sniper can do that for his mate and pups. Far from easy seeing that every moment with Scout has been spent railing the man. Still, the moment is tender. As he rocks himself in and out of the man, he notices details missed during their rougher moments.

Scout’s buck teeth pinch the right side of his lip more than the left. His eyes flutter when Sniper hits that special area deep inside. His toes curl when Scout whimpers. Little things that Sniper is usually too distracted to even notice. His heart flutters. Scout enjoys this not just to get off, but because he does it with Sniper.

“I love you so much. Fuck…” Scout can barely vocalize how incredible he feels right now. The slow, deep thrusts pull out sounds he didn’t know he could even make! Sniper’s unwavering gaze has Scout staring into gray eyes when he manages to open his own. While he loves getting his guts rearranged, the intimacy from this outweighs it tenfold. His heart will burst if he sees Sniper’s adorable face one more time.

“Love mate…too.” Not fighting their orgasms, the two notice how quickly it approaches. Scout rubs his t-cock and brings his legs around Sniper. The position is a bit awkward, but the Aussie helps by grabbing his hips. Scout brings him in for kisses, careful not to squish his stomach. Tongues twist and wrangle as the pair pant against one another.

Scout feels a knot in his gut that’s only getting tighter. Eyes rolling back, the batter breaks the kiss to take deep breaths. He ruts against Sniper, struggling to move his hips. His legs squeeze Sniper, and with his head tilted back, Scout cums on his lover. He watches Sniper continue thrusting, nowhere near close to his release.

“B-Babe! God, I-I can’t—!” Scout cries, clenching around Sniper who refuses to relent. Scout howls, legs falling open and folds spasming wildly. His release drips onto the mattress, soaking it as Sniper drags himself all the way to the tip before plunging back inside. Scout shuts his eyes as a smile comes to his face.

“Mate…! F-Feels good! Mate…love mate…!” Sniper does well to control himself. He has to be a good mate for Scout. A good mate takes care and provides whatever their lover wants. If the second round of squirt pouring onto his cock is any indication, Sniper is a damn good mate.

Teeth grit, the bushman lets out a low groan and empties inside of Scout. His head is lowered with eyes focused on Scout’s chest. The pair jiggle from the American’s rapid breathing until it finally settles. Their foreheads press together before Sniper wipes himself on Scout’s bush.

“Wow. Okay, we should definitely do that again.” Scout looks over to his collapsed Sniper and places a hand atop his. The hunter nods and takes a moment to lick Scout’s face with much vigor. The runner returns the gesture and laughs. God, he loves this wild man. They can handle whatever happens in the next few months.

Chapter Text

Loud screeching sounds outside of the camper. Scout was skimming a comic when the commotion startled him. He sets the colorful comic down and attempts to stand. It take a few tries due to the heavy stomach, but he manages. Scout throws on a shirt and a pair of shorts kept by the door in case Medic visits. Hand cradling the kicking twins, Scout opens the door to a strange sight.

Spy stands at the foot of the stairs holding a riot shield in the air. On the other end is Hoostalot who makes every attempt to peck at the Frenchman. He screeches louder, baffled by the invisible wall keeping him from enjoying a tasty pair of eyes. Spy grunts as every bit of her strength is sent to her arm. Damn this bird!

A whistle sounds from Scout. Low and steady with an arm raised to the side. Hootsalot flutters backwards, flicking from Spy to Scout. He wants to continue attacking, but the invisible wall just won’t break! The owl decides his efforts are better spent elsewhere and takes his perch on Scout’s arm. The man feeds him a piece of jerky kept in his pocket then strokes his feathery back.

“You got three seconds before I break my water on your shoes.” Due date inching closer, Medic had advised him to stay off his feet and avoid being startled. Both of which Spy just made him fail at. Nice work, dumbass.

“Please, don’t. I just bought these.” Spy takes out a nicotine patch, pulling back her sleeve to stick it to her skin. It was the next best thing seeing that smoking around Scout is a hazard. They still pale in comparison to a real cigarette he can feel in his lungs.

“Are you willing to use a medical tent?” The question earns a strange look. Scout takes a gander at Hootsalot, somehow hoping that the bird could give him an answer.

“A what?” Of course he has no idea what Spy is talking about. Scout was born after the war had ended when men came marching home. Spy was disgusted by what became of his beloved France. She ran to the States, settled with a mother of seven boys, and made a child of his own. A temporary distraction to what unfolded all those years ago.

“They were used during the war. Doctors installed them outside of the battlefield to treat wounded soldiers.” She remembers them vividly. The frantic nurses shielding the public from amputations and muffling the agonizing screams. So many breaths stilled. So many died in those tents.

“If Medic prepares one, will that satisfy your need for Sniper’s presence?” The doctor spent the last two weeks worrying about the procedure. An ambulance is too big to drive through the trees. Moving Scout to the base would prove too difficult due to his limited mobility. The clock is ticking, yet Scout remains in the camper.

Spy wipes his face with a huff. His patch is wearing off sooner than usual, or maybe she’s just an addict. She knows there’s plenty of juice left in the damn thing. God, what she would do for lungful of smoke right now.

“Yeah, that would be perfect! Thanks…You’re still a loser though.” Scout is quick to correct his gratitude. He sends Hootsalot to his nest and slowly climbs down the creaking stairs. He pulls out the knife Sniper left embedded into a tree stump and grabs the shaved piece of wood next to it.

“What are you doing?” Spy watches strips of bark fall from the piece in Scout’s hand. The knife curls and twists, slow where the space is minimal and quick everywhere else. Looking back to the stump, Spy notices how many divots were left in it from the knife.

“Whittling. Sniper taught me.” It began halfway through the pregnancy. Unable to run or swim like he used to, Scout grew bored in the camper. No amount of cuddles and meals could fill a full 24 hours. Sniper refused to let Scout grow restless, thus began their whittling lessons.

“Did you steal that knife?” The blade is rather small from Sniper’s taste. Completely impractical for hunting unless he can jab a prey enough times to do some form of damage. Not to mention the fact that the handle has roses painted onto it.

“Yeah. I don’t know why people still camp out here.” It’s like people just can’t help themselves! No matter the warnings posted outside the woods, people still march in with tents and sleeping bags. Once Scout can run around like he used to, he can get back to terrorizing campers with Sniper. Man, does he love making people scream.

Spy takes out a soda can from her jacket. He holds it out to Scout, tapping the bottom to his temple. A can of his beloved Bonk! is presented to him. Scout reaches for it before stopping. Medic put him on a strict diet of no uranium while carrying. Dealing with the headaches was the worst part for the first month.

“It’s diet. 99% less radiation.” Spy is glad that Scout accepts the can. Although not the same, it will have to do. Until a camper packs a can and Sniper comes trotting home with it that is. All those camping losers bring is granola bars and elecmaryte water. Whatever that is.

Scout takes a long sip, savoring the familiar taste. The cherry flavoring fizzles on his tongue before he sets it aside. He picks up the carving knife, back to sculpting a chipmunk. Right as he goes to detail the fur, Scout brings the carving in close.

“You must trust the bushman a great deal to go through this.” Spy stares at the trees. Her eyes scan the fallen leaves that coat the ground. He scans for the Aussie. She doesn’t feel like dealing with in-laws right now.

“I mean, it was love at first sight. He just turned out to be an amazing guy.” Scout hides by taking a sip of soda. Maybe he did rush into things. Maybe he was too reckless, but such is the life of a Scout. The first to dive into danger and the last to turn it down.

Scout places a hand on his stomach. The Administrator wasn’t pleased with his lack of work. She did, however, reconsider her anger when she found out about the babies. Training children from infancy would guarantee quality, and free labor until they understand a contract. Quite the unexpected business strategy.

“I wish you well, Scout. Adieu.” Spy lingers for a breath then steps away from the crumbling camper. As she vanishes in thin air, Scout realizes he was waving goodbye. He lowers his hand, finishing his can in a final gulp. The chipmunk is severed from the wood and set on the stump. Shavings brushed off of himself, Scout makes his way back into the camper. Maybe Spy isn’t half bad.

Chapter Text

Laid in a comfortable cot with blankets and sheets, Scout snores while cuddling a set of fraternal twins. His prized jacket was replaced with a hospital gown days prior, which he received after a bath. When his due date grew near, Scout was back to daily baths for the delivery. Sniper was also forced to bathe and brush for the twins. Turns out, he’s a lot more receptive when its Scout scrubbing him.

Medic always pulls his greasy hair, mainly because he tries to gather DNA samples. Scout, however, would run his hands through Sniper’s soaked strands like he was the most precious thing on Earth. Fingers glided through the mess, coaxing away the grease and grime. The batter was so gentle when brushing his hair that Sniper almost fell asleep.

With Scout sleeping, Sniper stayed alert even after Medic promised to stand outside. Hootsalot was kept out of the tent despite his numerous attempts to enter. Medic said something about bird flu and disease, but Hootaslot is a clean bird. He grooms in the evening and wipes the blood off of his talons after every meal.

The cot shifts. Scout hums, eyes squinting at one of the lights illuminating the tent. Sniper licks his face, face nudging the other’s as he rouses. The American yawns, slow and lethargic as he sits upright. Sniper holds out his hands to keep the babies still.

The first thing Scout sees is a pile of gifts left to them by their coworkers. Toys, clothes, diapers, and other necessities for the twins. The second thing he sees are his two bundles of joy. Blue eyes sting from tears running down the batter’s face. Scout turns to Sniper, laughing. One minute, his stomach was massive. The next, it’s a stretched mess leaving him with two babies in his arms. The girl in his left and the boy his right.

“They’re beautiful. Look, she has your nose.” Their daughter’s is a near copy of her father’s. Right down to the wide base and tall bridge. Sniper purrs, licking Scout again while he giggles. The bushman welcomes several licks planted onto his clean face. When the couple finish their playful licking, Scout looks back to the children.

“I’m glad we did this.” To think he was just running around on a battlefield while a piece of meat named Sniper was lurking in the woods. It put him out of work, but it was worth it to make two angels. Scout leans down, placing kisses onto both of their tiny heads.

“Good mate. Perfect pups…” Sniper rubs his face against Scout’s. Carefully, his mate hands over their daughter. She feels so light in his arms. It’s like carrying the world’s most delicate pillow. Sniper brings her close to coo and mumble how utterly perfect she is.

After all these years alone in the forest with Hootsalot, he finally has both a mate and pups. Sniper wants to run around, but he’ll startle the little flower in his arms. He sticks to nuzzling her, gentle as ever to let her sleep. Even in his wildest dreams, he never anticipated finding someone as perfect as Scout.

His tender moment is cut short by the tent’s zipper being pulled open. Sniper holds his daughter against his chest, teeth bared with a snarl. As the figure enters, it’s revealed to be Medic who heard the couple talking. Sniper’s stance remains unchanged.

“Oh, good! You’re awake. How do you feel?” The doctor takes out a clipboard, scribbling a few notes onto it as he approaches. Sniper is right at Scout’s side, keeping their little girl close while Scout holds their boy. He crouches by the cot, chin laid on the runner’s shoulder to watch Medic’s every move.

“Like jelly. Pretty sure my whole uterus fell out.” Scout peeks under the covers only for Medic to lower the sheet. The act causes his hand to accidentally brush the younger’s chest. Sniper snarls, sending a death glare to the German. How dare he touch his mate?! Is a pair of twins not enough to show that Scout is taken?!

“Aheh, nein, not at all. Just the placenta. I put it in a jar for safe keeping.” Medic retracts his hand, fearing that it would be bitten off if kept there any longer. He turns away to lift a jar full of liquid with a nasty looking organ floating inside. His gloved finger taps the glass as Medic giggles.

Sniper huffs once Medic backs off. He remains crouched, leaning over to nudge Scout’s cheek. When Medic entered the tent, Sniper saw how late in the afternoon it was. They need to pack their things and leave for the camper.

“Nest waiting. We sleep…there.” Sniper lays their daughter in Scout’s arms before standing upright. He grabs his jacket from a table and attempts to gather a few of their presents. He has no idea how to work a diaper, but neither does Scout. They can figure it out later.

“Aheh, I wouldn’t sleep in the camper.” The doctor cautions as he collects his dirtied tools. He’ll have to sterilize everything at the base where the equipment sits. For now, he wipes them down with a disinfectant. Medic then slides each tool into a travel kit by Scout’s bed.

“Mate keep pups….in nest….” They have to go to the nest. Sniper sets everything down and shoves himself between Scout and Medic. Even without the dirt on his face, sharp canines keep his menacing look.

Medic steps back, tempted to take out a tranquilizer gun. He’ll be damned if he gets rabies after working 12 hours straight to deliver twins! He adjusts his glasses, keeping himself calm despite Sniper’s growling.

“Ja, of course, but…well, the roof caved. Engineer said that it is beyond repair.” It happened just after the first baby was born. The rusted beams finally gave in after years of slow decay. How it lasted until now is a mystery not even their trusted Engineer could solve.

“So, what, we live in this crummy tent?” Scout looks to the babies then Sniper. Sure it wasn’t the best camper in town, but it was home! The cracked tiles had an indescribable charm. He just hopes that Hootsalot still has a nest to sleep in. Speaking of, the bird is likely attacking anyone near the camper.

“Please, this is leagues above that van. The four of you will be much safer in here.” Out of nowhere, Spy uncloaks himself. In her arms is a set of bassinets, which join the rest of the presents. Despite the charitable donation, Sniper makes a lunge for the man.

He snarls, mouth making every attempt to clamp down on his leg. Damn Spies! He hates how sneaky they are! Sniper crouches, teeth bared and back arched as Medic rushes over to help. Scout only laughs. That’s what she gets for sneaking in.

“Down, you mutt!” Spy pushes back, and Medic comes from behind to lock Sniper’s arms. Thank god he’s still wearing his thick gloves, because the bushman is making every attempt to bite through them.

“Enough of this!” Twisting his arms, Medic is able to reach into his pocket and take out a needle. He injects half of the liquid into the man, much to Scout’s dismay. The loud snarls and feral sounds weaken. Sniper feels himself calming down despite his urge to kill. He slouches in Medic’s arms, allowing him to be sat in a nearby chair.

“Your van is finally being removed from the forest. Now, you can live somewhere without mold.” Spy is half amused by the lethargic grumble coming from Sniper. His heavy eyes fight to stay open for more than a second. The Aussie stumbles to Scout’s side for a lazy forehead lick then kneels by the cot. He rests his head on the very comfy sheets. Maybe he can rest for a minute.

“He attacks because you keep doing this.” Scout strokes his mate’s hair, listening to the low rumble of his snore. If they were more understanding of him, they could see the human deep inside. Not just a wild, unruly animal with half a brain.

“I’ll wear K9 armor next time.“ Spy steps closer, declining Medic’s offer to leave him with the needle. She’ll be gone before the bushman can stir. Once the doctor takes his leave, Spy sits on the edge of the cot. He looks down at the sleeping twins and feels a faint smile come to his face.

“They’re both beautiful. Congratulations, Scout.” She never imagined having the privilege of seeing her grandchildren. Not after what he did all those years ago. Spy would linger outside of schools and baseball games, concealed from tiny blue eyes that always searched for him. Rinse and repeat, she expected. She can’t describe how happy he is to be wrong.

“Thanks. Probably gonna be a handful to raise.” Being the youngest awarded Scout with endless doting. Never in trouble because he’s just a baby. Always using a pitiful cry to have his mother’s mercy when he misbehaved. He never had to look after anyone or miss a concert to babysit. Karma’s a funny bitch.

“Yes, well, children do take commitment. However, I have no doubt that you can handle them.” The daughter makes a sound, whining as her face twitches. She turns to Scout, searching for something he can’t figure out. What could an hour old baby need?

Spy turns his head to the side and points to her chest. The gesture clicks in Scout’s exhausted brain, and he shifts to unbutton the top of his hospital gown. Duh! What else could a newborn need? He almost feels dumb for not realizing it, but at least Spy gave him a clue.

Speaking of Spy…damnit, this is gonna stab his ego. Scout looks to his family. A protective Sniper dedicated to his every beck and call. Newborns ready for the world to greet them. A silent yet clearly thinking Spy. He shuts his eyes and forces the words out.

“You know, I’m not gonna lie, I’m still pretty young. Twins is a lot of responsibility and stuff like that.” Spy only looks back at Scout once his top is buttoned. He wipes his daughter’s face to clean away the milk clinging to her lips. He’s been living like any other reckless young adult. Messy and uncoordinated with a few too many close calls.

“Don’t suppose you, uh, you know…babysit?” Spy perks at the question. Her eyes widen before she quickly returns them to normal. Scout wants to stay reckless, but with twins that depend on him, he needs someone serious to fall back on. Who better than the biggest stick in the mud on Earth?

“I believe I have the time.” Spy inches closer, struggling to hide her smile. Even for a professional, he’s always been weak at the heart. He can set his pride, and job, aside to look after his family like he should have done in the first place.

“Okay, cool. Only when I’m super exhausted though, or if Snipes and I wanna go on a date. You gotta follow all of our rules too.” Scout chuckles, trying not to sound too excited about Spy helping them. He’ll probably make the kids eat gross French food once they’re old enough. Not that Scout plans to keep him as a babysitter! Well, maybe. Not everyone wants to watch feral babies.

“It would be my pleasure.” Spy stands, moving to pat Scout on the shoulder. It was meant to be a brief gesture. Nothing too familiar, but then Scout pressed his head to Spy’s chest. Her hands acted on their own, holding her son as best she could. Spy turns invisible to hide the tears staining his mask. He can cry outside with a fresh nicotine patch.

It’s nearly an hour later when Sniper wakes up. He wipes the drool off of his face and rubs his eyes. Scout greets him with a lick to the nose, watching his mate yawn away the sleepiness. He sniffs the twins, satisfied to see that only his and Scout’s scents remain.

“Ready to name them?” The birth certificates lay beside Scout. Medic had filled out their weight, hair color, and other physical attributes. All they had to do was put names to new face.

“River for son…” One of the top contenders for the actual list of baby names they came up with. Sniper had picked it himself, proud of himself for coming up with it.

“And Jackie for our daughter.” Sniper holds the twins while Scout carefully fills out the certificates. He checked twice to make sure that he was putting the right names on the right papers. When he lays back down, Sniper slides in next to him. Both men cradle a baby, and they hear a distinct flapping outside. Looks like even Hootsalot is proud.