Chapter Text
21 – Baking
Sniper has never been a huge baker. Mostly because he’s never had a huge sweet tooth, and his caregiving instincts are nil, so he doesn’t bake for other people, either. There’s one time, and one time only that he will bake for himself.
Brownies. Special brownies.
He hasn’t had them in a few years. Since joining the war for Redmond, there hasn’t been a lot of time for baking let alone his special brownies. It’s hard to carve out a solid, safe few hours to just relax.
But then one weekend, the fighting is called off for “technical difficulties” whatever that means, and Sniper overhears from a couple other RED scouts that they know of a dealer in town nearby, and all of the pieces seem to fall into place.
His oven inside his camper is detestably small, and he has to keep the door propped open with a rock so it won’t bake the inside of the cabin along with the brownies currently rising inside. With nothing to do but wait, he sits back with a mostly cold beer and relaxes.
Seeing as how they had a couple days off, the BLU Scout saw this as the perfect opportunity to go and visit Sniper during the day. Though it was a little more risky, the Sniper usually had his van parked far enough away from everyone else that it wasn't very likely they'd be caught.
Approaching his van, he catches a whiff of something that smells odd, to say the least. He makes a face, assuming it's just something outside. He goes around the back, only to find that the Sniper's cabin door is open. He peaks his head in, knocking on the open door, announcing his arrival.
"Hey you cookin' something' in here?" He asks, sniffing the air again, a puzzled expression on his face as he tries to figure out what it could be. "The hell is it?"
“Jesus, kid,” Sniper lowers the rifle that he’d put up in defense when he heard someone approaching and saw a flash of the enemy colors. “I almost shot your head right off. I’m baking. Brownies.” He jerks his chin towards the oven. “They’re almost done.”
The answer doesn't help the Scout's confusion however. It only makes him more curious. He steps into the camper, taking a seat in his usual spot by the small table against the wall. "What the hell kind a-…Brownies? Why?"
Sniper laughs and hands the kid a beer. “They’re special brownies,” he clarifies. “Think I’m just sittin’ out here by my lonesome bakin’ normal brownies like some housewife? Please.”
"Special brownies?" He asks, still clueless. He figures he'll find out what's so special about them after he's had one. Maybe they just taste really good. "So, uh, this is how you spend your free time, huh? Bakin' brownies?"
Sniper just laughs again and shakes his head. They chat about a few useless things before the little egg timer goes off and Sniper slips on an oven mitt to pull the pan out of the micro oven. He sets it on the counter to cool off and takes his spot at the table again. Scout is craning his neck to look at the pan.
Laughing, Sniper tosses the oven mitt at him. “Relax, sport. You’ll get to try one,” he says, sipping from his beer. “They’ve gotta cool down, unless you wanna char your mouth right outta your skull.”
"Ah, I can handle it!" He says, rolling his eyes as he leans back in his seat, tapping his fingers on the table impatiently. His curiosity about these damn brownies is just growing by the second. Why do they smell like that? What makes them so special? Why the hell is Sniper baking in the first place?
"They done yet?" He asks after only a few minutes pass.
“I said relax,” Sniper sets his beer down on the table. “Give it a couple more minutes. I gotta take a leak, just settle down.”
He steps out of the suffocating heat of the camper into the sticky but welcoming desert breeze. He parked his camper underneath a sad little scraggly tree, but the meager shade is better than nothing. He paces a little ways away behind a stray boulder before unzipping his pants. He knows Scout will complain like a motherfucker if he pees close enough to the camper that he can see the puddle.
Just a few more minutes in the shade is all he needs before he ducks back inside to tell the kid that they’re cool enough to eat one.
Only to find a pretty large chunk of the pan already empty, the equivalent of at least three brownies, maybe a little more. He sees the crumbs on Scout’s shirt and takes in a deep breath. “Whoa there champ that’s a little bit much,” he grimaces. “How many times you done this before that you can handle three?”
"Done what? Eaten brownies?" He cocks an eyebrow, brushing the crumbs off of his shirt. "Uh, enough times that three isn't gonna kill me. What's the big deal?" He glances back over at the brownies. "What makes them so special anyway? They taste kinda funny."
Sniper blinks at the Scout in shock. He looks over at the brownies and back at Scout and lets out a groan.
“They’re cannabis brownies, scooter,” he gestures towards the pan. “How are you in your twenties and you don’t know what special brownies are?”
"They're--" He swallows hard, looking over at the pan with the big chunk of brownies missing from it, then back at Sniper, eyes wide with concern. He lets out a nervous chuckle, his arms crossing over his chest. "What? Yeah, yeah, of course I knew that, I'm not dumb. I knew that--" He lets out a heavy exhale, before plopping down in his chair. "I think I gotta sit down though."
“Shit. Drink some water,” Sniper shoves his canteen at the boy. “You’ve got a long haul ahead of you. Dumbass. ‘What makes them so special,’ Jesus Christ.”
Scout takes a drink from the canteen, setting it down on the table with a heavy sigh. "I..I think I'll be alright" He says with a nod, though he's mostly telling himself that. "I mean..I ain't even feelin' anything, shit, yeah I'll be fine." He snorts, sitting back in the seat, before reaching for the canteen again.
“Of course you aren’t feeling anything yet you scarfed ‘em two minutes ago. Give it about half an hour. You’ll be climbin’ the fuckin’ walls, mate,” Sniper sits down on the other side of the table with a sigh. “Just keep drinkin’ water. If you gotta chunder later you’re not gonna want straight chocolate comin’ up.”
And just like Sniper said, a little over a half hour later and Scout was definitely starting to feel something. It started with just a tingling, feeling like he was almost floating. He started to space out, his hand rubbing over his eyes as they kept going out of focus, the room seemed like it was moving around him. He wonders if the camper is moving, but Sniper is still sitting there with him.
Pretty soon he was finding it hard to even gather his thoughts. Any filter that he usually had (which wasn't much of one to begin with) is gone. He leans back in his seat, his hands rubbing up and down his legs, not particularly liking this feeling. It doesn't feel like he's awake, it doesn't feel like anything is real. It's beginning to get too overwhelming.
He looks over at the Sniper, then down at his hands. "I think…there's…" He loses his train of thought, zoning out on his hand before shaking his head, snapping himself out of it. "Whoa… No. No, nope this is. Yeah."
Sniper sighs out a groan. He was hoping to have at least one during their off time, but it looks like he’s going to need to really take care of this stupid kid so he doesn’t do something to accidentally kill himself. His day of relaxation has turned into a day of babysitting.
“Just keep breathin’ kiddo,” he can’t help but smile despite himself. Scout is just so cute, he’s always been cute, but now with his eyes wide like he’s seeing everything for the first time in his life and his face a little pink with excitement and probably a little nausea, he looks like a child struck with wonder. “And drink some more water, I’m serious.”
Scout shakes his head, letting out a slight groan. "No, no I had…like three," He says with a huff, running his hands down his face again, his legs vibrating as he starting getting more and more freaked out.
“You had three… water?” Sniper blinks at the fidgeting kid.
Scout takes a deep breath, fiddling with his hands. "Shit I'm freakin' out, the… the everything is moving, I can't--" He shakes his head again, quickly bolting out of his seat, but his head starts spinning as soon as he’s on his feet and he falls right back down in the chair.
“Have four water, come on,” Sniper lifts the canteen and checks the boy’s temperature with the back of his hand while he sips shallowly from the canteen. “Do you want some fresh air?”
“Can you bring it in here?” Scout stares hollowly at the door.
“No,” Sniper laughs. “But I can help you outside.”
"Yeah, Yeah do that, I can't," He says, holding onto the canteen, his thumbs rubbing over the surface absentmindedly. "You should carry me, I think that'd be romantic," He giggles, going back and forth from freaking the hell out and a complete calm daze within a matter of seconds.
“Romantic my ass you’re just so smackered you can’t walk,” Sniper mutters and lifts the young man from underneath his gangly limbs. He edges sideways out of the van and kicks open the folding chair he set up under the tree so he can lower the young man into it. “And keep drinkin’ the water quit just starin’ at it.”
"Yeah but what if when it's gone?" He grumbles, squinting at the sudden overwhelming brightness. He takes a deep breath, the change of scenery starting to freak him out. He holds onto the canteen tighter before taking another small sip, setting it down on his lap, his hands and legs beginning to shake again.
“Then I refill it. You bloody mook,” Sniper takes off his sunglasses and sets them over the squinting kid’s eyes.
"Oh god!" Scout shrieks as everything suddenly turns yellow, nearly falling right out of his seat as his flails, sending the canteen flying. "Everything is yellow oh god what did you do to me, I'm gonna die, you fuckin' pissed on everything again!" He screams, his breathing coming in sort, heavy breaths, gripping tight onto the arms of the chair.
“Oh my god relax, I just gave you my sunglasses!” Sniper grabs the glasses off Scout’s face again. “You’re not dying and I did not piss, but you did spill the water and now it’s empty and you probably are actually going to die that was the last water on earth.”
Scout gasps, covering his mouth with his hands, shaking his head quick enough to nearly give himself whiplash. "No, nonono, no I'm sorry, you sure there's not more, we gotta get more I don't wanna die!" He yells again, his voice cracking. "I thought I had enough, I don't wanna die!" He says starting to tear up, running his fingers through his hair. "I'm so emotional over fuckin' water, why'd you do this to me?!"
Sniper throws his head back with a laugh. “Hold on I think that was the second-to-last water on earth lemme go check.”
He steps back into his camper and replaces the empty canteen on a hook on the wall and grabs one of his several other water-filled canisters, sloshing it to make sure it’s full.
“Yep, what luck you’ve got. This is the last water on earth.” He tosses the closed canteen to the Scout if for no other reason than to watch him scramble to catch it so he doesn’t spill it, despite the cap being screwed on tight.
Scout fumbles to catch it, squeaking as it hit him before he actually gets it in his hands. He unscrews the cap, shaking as he brings it to his lips, drinking nearly half of it in one go. He looks over at Sniper and full out stares at him, slowly moving the canteen from his mouth, holding it in both of his hands on his lap.
"Whoa…" He mumbles, still staring at the Sniper, eyes half lidded, mouth hanging open just slightly, before spreading into a dopey grin. "You're just…" He lets go of the canteen with one hand, reaching out toward the Sniper, but then he pulls his hand back. "Wow."
Sniper’s already bowed mouth frowns deeper. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he crosses his arms. “I’m just what?”
"You're cute, c'mere, I wanna touch ya." He grumbles, reaching out for the Sniper, leaning forward in his seat.
Sniper tries really hard not to smile, but he can’t stop his mouth from quirking. “You’re stupid,” he scoffs before meandering within touching distance. “I wonder how much of this you’re gonna remember once you float back down to earth.”
The Scout reaches out to touch Sniper's arm, sliding down to grab onto his hand, tugging at him to come closer. "Oh god, I hope it's not like this forever." He gasps, looking up at Sniper, his eyes widening.
“Not like what forever?” Sniper’s smile softens from amusement to affection and he sifts his fingers through the younger man’s short hair.
"This like this I wanna be normal, this is shit I keep shakin'." He says, though he's still not able to wipe the stupid grin off of his face. He's pretty mellowed out right now, and he can only hope that lasts. But the more he thinks about it, the more freaked out he gets, his grip on the Sniper's hand tightening, getting shaky.
“Come on, breathe,” Sniper hums, drawing Scout’s forehead to rest against his hip so he can run both hands through his hair. “Maybe next time you’ll listen to me when I tell you not to eat the brownies yet, huh? Do you wanna go back inside?”
The Scout manages to wrap his arms around the other's hips, finding the contact comforting. "Only…You gotta carry me." He says, closing his eyes, letting out a heavy sigh.
Sniper sucks his lips into his mouth to hold back his grin. He loops the canteen over his shoulder and picks up the kid again, sidling through the open door into the cooler by comparison camper. “Do you wanna get up in the bed?” he asks, settling the Scout on the counter so their eyes are at the same level.
Scout nods, starting to get drowsy, and its becoming a bit obvious. He can barely keep his eyes open. Not that he was doing a very good job at the previously. "Yeah, yeah, I gotta… we gotta lay down." He says, holding onto Sniper's shoulders.
“Good, maybe you’ll just sleep the rest of this off,” Sniper mutters as he hoists the looped up man into his loft bed and carefully pulls off his shoes.
“No no you gotta get in get up with me I’ll fall out,” Scout reaches over the edge of the bed for the Sniper when he puts his boots back on the floor.
“That bed ain’t big enough for both of us when you aren’t stoned off your good sense, roo. I’ll be right down here, just try to sleep,” Sniper strokes his hand over the younger man’s hair.
"No, I'll lay on top of you, you gotta come up here, I…" He whines, rolling over, taking the sheets with him. "Fine."
He wakes up not even twenty minutes later in a panic, he doesn’t remember where he is still stuck in an odd state of mind. He shoots up in the bed, looking around like a startled deer, and the room is spinning around him again. He tenses up and he begins to shake, breathing fast and heavy.
He whips his head over and sights Sniper, before realizing where he was, but that doesn't help much. The room seems to be getting smaller and smaller than it already was, everything is too tight and in an instant he feels extremely claustrophobic. He scrambles to find the ladder, nearly falling on his way down while shaking his head. "No- No, I gotta…I gotta go, I gotta run this is-- I gotta go." He says, pushing his way out of the camper.
“Go?” Sniper looks up from his gun, setting down the polish. “Where the hell do you think you’re gonna go we’re in the middle of the – ”
He’s off, out the door, like a rocket, and he leaves his shoes behind on the floor.
“Desert.” Sniper puffs out a breath and stands up. He moseys comfortably to the door just in time to see Scout fall flat on his face less than twenty five feet away. He leans on the jamb and crosses his arms. “You alright out there, hopalong?” he calls out to the fallen Scout.
The Scout just lays there for at least a good minute, his limbs stretching out on the ground. He eventually gets up, walking back over to the Sniper, stumbling a few times and giggling, holding his hands up in front of him in amazement.
"Yo, I just ran like…ten fuckin miles, it was so weird." He laughs, holding his face between his hands in disbelief. "Aaaah, shit… Did you follow me?"
Sniper laughs and shakes his head. “Go back inside, would ya?”
“No, no, no, I have to – I’m communing with nature,” Scout sits back down on the dirt. “Don’t talk go away you’re startling it.”
Sniper heaves a sigh and steps back into his camper to avoid startling the dust anymore. “You want sun screen?” he asks from the door of his camper.
Scout gives a nod, not looking away from the ground. Even like this he's knows it’s probably a good idea to put sunscreen on, considering how easily he burns. "Yeah, but you gotta do it I just... don't know if I can." He says, reaching for a canteen that isn't there.
Sniper comes back out with the canteen and the sun screen, but as soon as he starts to spread the white goop on Scout’s arms, he freaks out and starts throwing elbows.
“Stop I changed my mind you’re gonna take my skin off!”
“I’m not gonna take your skin off quit squirming!” Sniper barks. “Hold still!”
“No it’s burning you’re burning off my skin stop!” Scout sobs and kicks at Sniper’s shins.
Sniper lets out a grunt of frustration. “Fine, you’re gonna burn then and I ain’t peelin’ ya!” he drops the canteen in Scout’s lap and goes back inside, letting the screen door slam shut behind him.
The Scout jumps a little when the door slams, staring at it for a good few seconds in concern. "Oh no…" He mumbles to himself. "You're mad I gotta.. Gonna go fix that what if you drive away. Your fucking house has wheels, that's fucked up." He stands up, slowly walking over to the door. He feels like he could fall over but stays on his feet as he reaches camper and opens the door. "…Your house has wheels…"
“Finished communing with nature already Snow White?” Sniper is sitting at the table with his arms crossed.
"No, but why?" He asks, still referring to the camper van wheels. He’s so amazed that the Sniper could go anywhere with his house. That's just so cool.
“It flies, too, did you know that?” Sniper snorts and sits up straight. “But only if you come in and lie face down on the floor, it only works like that.”
"I think you're lying. I never seen it fly before." He says, stumbling into the van anyway, taking a look around. The whole changing of the scenery thing still threw him off, but he was getting used to it. "God damn why is it so small, why does it have wheels?! This…agh." He lets out a groan of frustration, plopping down onto the floor, looking up at Sniper. "I need help…"
“What can I help you with?” Sniper leans his elbows on his knees with a friendly, if a little sadistic, smile.
Scout forgets what he's about to say for a moment when the Sniper leans in, just staring at him. He leans forward on his knees, giving the Sniper a smooch on the lips, before sitting back down. "Make it fly." He whispers.
Sniper grins. “Gotta lay face down, mate. Can’t get up either, the van will know and it’ll stop flying.” He gets up and scoots past the young man towards the door.
“No where are you going you’ll miss it!” Scout grabs Sniper’s pant leg.
“I gotta fly the thing, don’t I? Gotta steer so we don’t hit any planes,” Sniper shakes his pants out of Scout’s grip. “Face down, come on.”
The scout gasps, before nodding. That wouldn't be very good. "Yeah, yeah, okay you do that, I'll lay down, I swear." He says, before lying flat, face down on the floor of the camper van.
Sniper chuckles to himself as he leaves the van. Scout is always complaining about how filthy the floor of Sniper’s van is. He’s going to piss himself later when he tells the kid he put his face on it.
Hiking up his pants so they don’t get under his boots, Sniper plants himself beside the camper. He puts both hands on the van wall and he starts to push, rocking the van on its shocks.
The Scout lets out a squeak as the van start moving, nearly bolting up before remembering that they'd stop flying if he did. He grips the ground as well as he can manage, breathing heavily, his heart starting to race, eyes shut tight.
Sniper has to bite his lip to keep from laughing. “How are you doin’ back there, kiddo!” he shouts.
"OH GOD WE'RE FLYIN'" The Scout shrieks back at him, trying his hardest not to completely freak out.
Sniper has to swallow his snort. He rocks the van for another thirty seconds or so before he tells Scout they’re “coming in for a landing” and gradually slows the van until it’s still again.
The next hour or so is filled with, generally, dicking around with Scout. He’s never going to get the chance to do this again, so he’s going to take this opportunity by the horns.
When Scout asks for more water, Sniper gives him an empty beer bottle and watches him try to suck water out of it for almost ten minutes before he gives up and cries.
When Scout wonders out loud where the rest of the team is, Sniper tells him they’re all outside and laughs when Scout hides under the table because they’ll see him.
When Scout asks why he’s so itchy, Sniper tells him it’s because he’s covered in ants. Scout then proceeds to strip down to his underwear and socks and he climbs the boulder outside screaming.
Sniper can’t get him back down for the life of him. Scout keeps rubbing his arms and legs to try and get the ants off. He spends almost a half hour up on that rock. By the time Sniper coaxes him back inside, he’s burned to hell, red on his face and arms and chest and basically everywhere that isn’t covered by his socks or underoos.
Scout spends the next few minutes whining about how everything hurts, and everything is burning. He still can't stop itching his skin, but that's mainly due to the fact that he's burned nearly everywhere. Sniper managed to coax him back into his pants, but he outright refused his shirt.
The only thing that distracts him from the burning is his stomach growling a bit too loud. He rubs his stomach, his attention turning to the pan with the brownies still in it, reaching for another one, just for something to eat. "'m hungry…" He mumbles.
“Don’t eat that!” Sniper yanks the brownie from him. “You wanna go back to feelin’ right today? Don’t eat any more brownies.”
"But I'm starving' c'mon I just…" He groans, pulling himself off of the chair, walking over to the sniper's tiny fridge, opening it and just staring blankly at the food in there for a while before pulling out some cheese curds, letting out a huff. "You don't have shit, do you?"
“I don’t keep much in me van,” Sniper puts his hands on his hips as Scout shakes cheese curds into his hand to nibble. “I eat on the base with the others.”
“What else ya got?” Scout finishes off the bag, it was mostly empty anyway.
Rolling his eyes, Sniper starts to paw through his van. He tosses a bag of beef jerky at the kid, as well as a half-empty jar of sunflower seeds, a jar of vegemite and a mesh bag filled with dehydrated fruit. “Most of what I got in here is snacks,” he shrugs and drops a bag of trail mix on the table.
He plops back down into the chair, grabbing the bag of jerky, shoving piece after piece in his mouth without even finishing the last, practically inhaling the food. Jerky gone, he reaches for the sunflower seeds, grinning as he shoves a handful in his mouth "Man, this shit is so good, I wish it was like…endless. Endless sunflower seeds…" He giggles, resting his head on the table in front of him as he continues to snack on the seeds.
“You’re gonna make yourself sick,” Sniper takes his seat across the table and rests on his elbows.
“No way I’m fine this is good do you want some?” Scout offers the jar. Sniper just raises a hand, so he goes back to eating the seeds.
“You know, those might taste better if you spit out the shells,” Sniper snorts.
"What? No I'll make a mess, that's…no." He says, deciding he's done with the sunflower seeds, pushing them to the side. He stares at the trail mix for a while, before his attention turns to the vegemite. "…The shit is this?" He asks as he reaches for the jar, opening it and looking inside.
“Vegemite. It’s a spread, you put it on like toast or – ”
Scout dips his finger into the jar and scoops out a dollop, and puts it directly in his mouth.
“Or you could just… do you want a spoon?”
The Scout’s face twists into an expression of disguste after swallowing the vegemite and he gags, shoving the jar away. "What the fuck was that?! That was… am I gonna die now? I don't think I was supposed to eat that." He groans, grabbing the bag of dehydrated fruit and shoving a bunch in his mouth in hopes of getting ride of the taste of the Vegemite.
Sniper shakes his head with a sigh. “No, you ain’t supposed to eat it outta the jar like that. It’s a spread. You put it on things, you – feh, forget it. You’re so stoned you don’t even hear me.”
“This fruit is good but I think it’s veggiemort flavored too,” Scout mumbles through a mouthful of apricots and raisins.
He eats almost everything on the table, an eclectic assortment of snacks. Unfortunately for him, the snacks don’t agree with one another, and within ten minutes he’s complaining of belly pain.
“I told you you’d make yourself sick,” Sniper says, rubbing Scout’s back while he leans out the back door of the van, unsure yet whether or not he’s going to throw up. He’s wobbling nauseously and moaning, clutching his stomach and hiccupping, but nothing is coming up.
After a few minutes of nothing coming up, Scout whines, laying down on his back on the floor of the van. Sniper rolls his eyes and follows, sitting cross-legged to give the kid something to lie his head on other than the disgusting floor. Scout grabs his hand, putting it over his stomach. "Rub me…" He groans, giving him a pathetic look. "I'm dyin', rub me."
“Rub you?” Sniper’s hand lays still on Scout’s flat stomach.
“Rub me,” Scout repeats in a whimper.
Sniper moves his hand in a circle over the Scout’s bare stomach to try and soothe away the ache. Scout falls asleep almost instantly under the gentle touch, finally giving Sniper some peace. He looks down at the sleeping kid, wiping grit off his arms and sweat off his forehead, and smiles. This is him, this is the kid he picked, this is that person he’s gonna stay with for as long as things work out. He knew he picked a winner.
===
Sniper doesn’t realize he fell asleep until he’s awoken by Scout groaning. The sky is darker outside the van, and Sniper is feeling very stiff from falling asleep sideways against the cupboards so Scout could keep using his legs as a pillow.
“You doin’ okay, sport?” he asks, uncrossing his legs with a grimace. “Looks like you’ve been out a couple hours. You finally come down?”
He shakes his head, starting to panic just a little. He had come down completely, but now he just hurt all over and he felt like he could throw up at any moment, and he just wanted to go back to bed. "No, fuck this shit, I'm gonna get sick…" He whines before stumbling up onto his feet, out the back of the van. Almost as soon as he gets out of the van he loses everything he had in his stomach. He gives up at that point and lays on the ground, rolling over and groaning. "I fuckin' hate this, I'm gonna die…"
Sniper walks out casually and positions himself so he casts a shadow over Scout’s face with the brim of his hat. “Maybe next time you’ll listen to me when I tell you not to eat something?” he asks, hands on his hips.
"You said wait till it cooled." He frowns, looking up at the sniper. "And I thought it was cool enough to eat, how was I supposed ta know? Shut up and carry me inside, I don't wanna get up," He pouts. "And be careful, I'm fuckin' burned everywhere."
Sniper lifts his lover for the last time that night with a laugh and carries him into the camper. He helps him climb up into the bed and grabs his lotion that he uses usually to keep the skin on his hands from cracking so he can do his job better, but sometimes it doubles as lube if they don’t feel like going after the vasline or pilfered medical lubes. The rest of the night is going to be a hoot, he thinks as he starts to spread the lotion over Scouts back and tells him a story of a boy who once ate too many pot brownies.