5 Times Medic Called Heavy Something Affectionate In His Home Language And 1 Time Heavy Did It Back

by 24bughours

Summary:

The title pretty much sums it up but TLDR:
Heavy and Medic's meeting, friendship, realizations and confession in this fic format

Translations to be provided in the notes

Chapter 1: Humble Beginnings

     About half of the mercenaries' first language isn't English. That's common knowledge to everyone with the exception of Soldier, who would flip his lid if he ever had that realization. The Heavy is clearly Russian in both accent and appearance. The Medic is clearly German in the same ways. Nobody can tell if the Spy is *from* France due to his obscure identity, but he's clearly spent a lot of his life in France if his accent is real. The Pyro... is the Pyro. Nobody really knows what they are under that mask. The only person that might have any clue is the Medic due to their yearly physicals, but if he did know, he's very good at keeping it a secret.

     These men don't shy away from sneaking their home language into common conversation. Whether this be some sort of expression or agreement, nobody really cares about not understanding the specifics of the term. All that matters is a respectful tone. Medic in particular is fond of using friendly names for his teammates. The mercenaries are aquainted to a thankful "freund" at the end at his sentences. That's a pretty easy word to figure out. As Scout has often described it, German is 'basically wonky English', so the average person can draw parallels between the words "freund" and "friend" very quickly.

     Other terms are a bit harder to understand. It took most of the team a while to figure out what "schön" meant. It can mean a lot of things, but Medic uses it to mean "nice" or "lovely".

     Heavy is used to being called these things despite not really caring about learning their meanings. Friendly sayings and names are common in his language as well.

     Every day, he converses with his good friend. These names always make their way into his speech. Heavy appreciates the comfort in his words. The two's conversations have transcended language ever since they met those many, many months ago. He barely spoke a word of English when he first arrived to the base. He was also one of the first to take up a contract there, so he was basically alone. Only an unnamed Spy, Medic, and Soldier were there alongside him.

-----

     Ludwig didn't just approach him right off the bat of course. He was just as cautious of all of the new teammates as Misha. One was a shady, sneaky Frenchman with an unidentifiable face, one was a hulking, silent man who just got shipped in from the Gulag, and one was a patriotic nutcase. After a while of being alone and bored he supposed he, the murderous, sadistic, illegal practitioner of medicine was no better than any intimidating figure.

     The pyromaniac arrived a few hours after Misha in their full gear, and the doctor realized that the Russian Hulk over there would most likely be the most normal person to live in the base. The day after Misha arrived, Ludwig waited for lunch to grab some grub from the fridge and take a seat across from the man. Same as Misha did the day before, he sat in the furthest corner from the entrance, smack dab in the middle of a cafeteria bench. He seems to have made a sandwich of some sort.

     Ludwig sits directly across from him, putting his own sandwich down. It's pretty boring compared to the other man's pretty expert assembly. It's even got a fancy little toothpick and olive in it. He smiles and strikes up some one sided converstation. "That's a very ornate sandwich, ja?" he observes obviously. The admittedly intimidating man nods with uncertainty. "да." Ludwig smiles a bit wider, taking a bit of his own sandwich.

     It's not very noticable, but Misha is a bit anxious to be talking to someone new. Especially someone who speaks English. He continues eating slowly, averting any eye contact. The doctor doesn't mind much.

     They eat in silence with the occasional off-comment about their circumstances from the German. Misha always responded.

     "It's difficult adjusting to being in America, ja?"
"да."

     "It seems that not many people took up this job, ja?"
"да."

     It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that he wasn't just quiet. He couldn't really say much of anything in English. Ludwig didn't mind. He would learn quickly, especially in a field requiring teamwork.

-----

     They sit together on the days where they're both in the cafeteria. Medic prefers eating in his new office. As of that morning, the team became officially recognized. There are nine of them total. They each were spoken to individually about the requirements of their positions and given code names. Ludwig was officially named the Medic that day.

     He was glad to be officially hired, and was very sure if it weren't for the highly illegal and distressing circumstances of his job, he probably wouldn't be the Administrator's first choice. But alas, he is equally insane as her for wanting to participate in this crazy two-man war. He sits in front of his acquaintance that day, no food in hand. His friend had his usual sandwich.

     "So, mein freund, what is your name?" he asks expectantly. Heavy pauses to remember the little English he recognized during Miss Pauling's speech. "Mеня зовут... 'Heavy'." He looks down at the shorter man. The man holds out a hand and grins. "Nice to meet you, Heavy. I'm the Medic."

     Heavy gingerly grabs the Medic's hand and shakes it. A small smile grows on his face. He speaks a full sentence for the first time, "Nice to meet Medic. Мы будем хорошими друзьями."

Notes:

Mein freund = My friend
Schön = Nice
Ja/да = Yes
Mеня зовут... = My name is...
Мы будем хорошими друзьями. = We will be good friends.

Chapter 2: Quick Aquaintances

Summary:

They're all getting to be better friends and Medic eats Heavy's sandvich

     It didn't take long for the duo to start hanging out often. There wasn't much else to do, anyways, as they were just waiting for their official battle shifts to be announced. The days were slow and the nights were shorter, often sleepless from anticipation or anxiety. It wouldn't take long for the team to lower their defenses so they could make friendly talk with their new, weird colleagues.

     The progression of these friendships went... surprisingly quick, actually. They are stuck in the middle of the desert with each other, so they were probably at least a bit desperate for human connection. Most of them had things in common. They all had interests and hobbies to share around. Even the slightly unhinged and mysterious Pyro had an agreeable aura about them. They're usually towing behind the Engineer, one of few people who weren't initially creeped out by their mannerisms.

     However, having that instant click with somebody didn't mean that they had it with everybody. That applied to all of them, especially so to the people that were considered strange. Medic being more mad scientist than doctor, and Heavy being a beast of a man with no desire to talk to "baby men", were prime examples of this. They were intimidating from the start, and their mannerisms of talking too much or talking too little didn't help.

     That impression didn't last long when the team saw how they changed around each other. The way Medic was patient with Heavy's language barrier in a way nobody else thought to be, and the way Heavy showed his appreciation, how they seemed happy to have each other's company. It didn't matter much that their colleagues found it weird how they acted, that sort of genuine happiness rubs off on people.

     -----

     The Administrator ordered that the crew start preparing the field for battle. She didn't hold any punches, deciding to assign them one week to empty a warehouse on the edge of the property. It was quite the task, but nobody wanted to slack on their first job. Rather, they couldn't slack off. Their contracts made it very clear that they should avoid whatever's in store for them if they break the rules.

     Everyone was pretty tired and crabby within the first 24 hours. They had to wake early and work until the sun started beating down on their backs. They would go back inside and wait until sundown, where they would go back outside and work until the stars came out. All that usually amounted to 14 hours of work, and they were exhausted by the end of it.

     On a positive note, the team got their project done faster than expected. Today was their day off. Most of them were sleeping until noon. But when lunch came around, they were all scrambling for some real food. All those meals they've had the last couple days were empty calories and it was catching up to them.

     When Medic walks in, the cafeteria is louder than usual. His teammates pushed two tables together to make one big dinner table. He notices that they're all focused on something on the far end of the table, a big bowl. He walks over and sits next to Heavy.

     "Engineer made food." Heavy rumbles, "He calls it chili." Medic hums and notices that everyone has a bit of it on their plates. They all tried it and clearly loved it. Medic grabs a spoon from the middle of the table and asks, "Herr Heavy, can I try a bit of yours?"

     Heavy pushes the plate towards him and Medic takes a little bite. It's actually amazing. He now understands the hype. He gestures at Engineer with his spoon, "I never would've guessed we had a chef on our team! How did you make this, freund?"

      The Engineer grins and rubs his neck. "Well, I wouldn't say I'm a chef... This is an old family recipe, been in the family for a long time." he explains. "I thought I should make a present of sorts for my new teammates." Medic laughs quietly. It's not often his workmates make him a welcoming gift.

     He leans into the table and watches his team talk amongst each other. They seem to be getting along well. He turns to his own friend, who seems to be enjoying the moment. It's sort of hard to tell, but he looks less tense. "Heavy, we should make some food from our home countries." Medic suggests, bumping his elbow into his friend's arm. Heavy nods and thinks for a second.

     "Mother makes borscht. It is beet soup. Heavy will make it." he proposes simply. Medic hesitates before continuing, "Ehh, I don't think we have beets in stock. There might be some in town, but we are not scheduled to go out until next week." The Medic purses his lips before gesturing at Heavy's plate. It has a sandwich on it. "You make those a lot. We could make them for dinner later."

     Heavy shrugs and takes a look at the sandwich. It's only got a couple bites taken out of it. He wasn't very hungry after eating that bowl of chili Engineer gave him. He looks down at Medic, who is eyeballing the plate. Heavy smiles, pushing the plate in front of his friend.

     "Do you want me to try it?" the doctor asks. Heavy nods, and watches as Medic takes a bite from the other end of the sandwich. His eyes widen. "Oh Gott, Heavy," he mumbles, "this is delicious! What did you put in it?" Heavy uncrosses his arms and lays them on the table. He spends a second listing the ingredients while Medic eats.

     Before he knows it, the sandwich is gone and Medic did not retain one bit of what Heavy said. He was distracted, but Heavy doesn't mind. He seems satisfied. "Danke, kamerad. That was great." Medic mutters to Heavy. Heavy smiles at his friend again, proud he could make something nice for him. "I will make sandwiches later. Для нас."

Notes:

Herr - Mister
Freund - Friend
Gott - God
Danke, kamerad - Thank you, partner
Для нас - For us

Chapter 3: Complimentary Couple

Summary:

Medic is fixing his bro up when he has a homoerotic staring contest with his shoulders

     Medic and Heavy fit together like puzzle pieces. They compliment each other in every way. One is extreme and somewhat extroverted, emitting a light aura despite having a brain that must have been birthed from the dark pits of Hell. The other is stoic and silent, his appearance and expression mirroring that of a mountain, but his mind being thoughtful and enlightened. Their differences bounce off of each other to create the perfect symmetry.

     They complete each other in a way that can make most people jealous.

     The balance of their beings is a marvel to watch on the battlefield, but it's horribly mundane in daily life. They act like they've been married for 30 years, and it's really impressive to watch these lunatics have mild conversations about nothing over lunch. It's often joked or stated outright that they should just call themselves a pair at this point.

     It doesn't bother them what the others joke about, because what's the harm in it? Their relationship is only theirs to participate in, so their chat won't matter much to them. However... their inability to give a shit doesn't help their case, either.

-----

     The habit of Heavy sustaining major, yet non-life-threatening, injuries and hanging out in the medbay began fairly early in their friendship. It's an easy excuse to drop by, and the chances of them being disrupted are significantly lower when Medic is fishing around in Heavy's spleen for a piece of shrapnel. Even if he were fully intact, the dove down and sweaty atmosphere usually bother people anyways, so the others avoid the medbay.

     Today's injury is mild. Heavy walks in with a (relatively) small cut on his hand he recieved when a knife slipped in the sink. The simplicity of sutures leave a lot of unoccupied space in Medic's mind. It's hard for him to stay focused on his operations sometimes, as alarming as that sounds. Medicine is the great love of his life, but repetition can drive him crazy. So, in order to keep himself occupied, he scans the rest of his friend's body.

     Medic has never seen someone like Heavy before. 6'5", around 350 pounds, and one of the strongest men he's met in his entire life. He wouldn't be shocked if he could launch an enemy Scout a good 10 meters with the back of his hand. The thought almost makes him laugh. He absentmindedly examines his shoulders. Since he's hunched over, they slope forward into a defined curve. Medic has never seen a man with such large shoulders. It's marvelous. His eyes wander forward and he realizes that Heavy has been staring at him for an unknown amount of time.

     His head feels like it just got lit on fire. He looks down, realizing he just... forgot to continue stitching in favor of being a creep about his friend's defined musculature. Heavy doesn't say much, just watching Medic suffer the palpable embarrassment. He waits for Medic to finish sewing before he continues speaking.

     The last knot is tied and Medic sighs. Heavy watches him straighten his back as he puts away the bloody materials in a sharps box and sanitizes his hands in the sink. He tries to quickly get to disposing of his materials but he is interrupted. "Doctor." Heavy simply says. Medic flips around, a forced grin on his face. "What is the problem?"

     "Ah? What do you mean?" Medic asks, confused. Heavy pauses. "You look at me with concern?" he wonders out loud. Medic wished he just wouldn't point it out, but he isn't one to keep his observations from people. "There is nothing wrong with you. I was just examining you, it comes naturally to doctors." He hopes this explanation will suffice. It doesn't.

     "You had strange look on your face. Many doctors say I have strange body shapes." Heavy bluntly states. Medic feels a twinge of sadness at his wording. He walks back over to the chair he was previously sitting in and reclaims his spot. He isn't used to being sentimental, so it takes him a moment to find the right words. "I wouldn't say they're strange. But I must admit, I've never met someone like you. Du bist wie einen grizzlybär."

     Heavy shifts forward, putting his elbows on his knees. Medic thinks he might not have made him feel any better. Maybe he made him feel worse. So he decided to do what he does best: Fawn over anatomy.

     "I meant it in a positive way." He mumbles uneasily. Heavy's jaw relaxes and he looks up at his friend. Medic smiles at him and he looks back down, trying to hide some sort of expression. "You're impressive, freund. I can tell that you've built muscle since our last physical. Your trapezii are very defined, haha!" With that last laugh, he slaps his hand on Heavy's back and Heavy chuckles. The sound of his laughter relieves Medic, and he returns to the counter to finish his work.

     Heavy sits there, confused about the sudden compliments. He knew that he was unusual in size and shape and strength, but he didn't realize there were people in the world that considered it aesthetically appealing. He is used to people finding him appealing for just his strength. Heavy wrings his hands together, careful not to pop a stitch in his right. His brow furrows and he begins aimlessly looking around.

     He doesn't know how to feel about it. It's no shocker that he has a strong bond with Medic, and he should be glad to recieve affirmation from his friend. But he has a strange feeling that he shouldn't like being complimented by him as much as he does right now. Especially, that first thing he said. He's fairly certain Medic said something about bears.

     Heavy is stuck, grappling with this unknown feeling in his chest, so to pass the time, he chooses to watch Medic work by the sink.

Notes:

Du bist wie einen grizzlybär. = You're like a grizzly bear.

Chapter 4: Casual Touch

Summary:

Heavy notices that his friendship with Medic leans into homo territory

     Trying to avoid a slap on the back or a punch on the shoulder is very difficult in the mercenary base. When not being used to fatally injure, touch is how most of them communicate. It depends on the people, two big exceptions being Spy and Sniper, who just don't communicate all that much. But if Heavy does someone a solid, like cooking some food or moving a crate, he expects some sort of contact.

    He doesn't appreciate it much. It usually doesn't bother him, but there are a select few who are particularly annoying about touching him. Whether it be intentional or not.

     Scout loves to mess with people when he's bored, by tipping their hats, punching their shoulder, flicking the back of their head. Nobody likes it, but his teasing in particular makes Heavy want to rip his arms off. Similarly, Soldier and Demo are very heavy handed. It isn't intentional. They are both intoxicated with some sort of chemical compound at all times, so they get cut some slack.

     The others aren't too bad. Engineer has a very noticable habit of patting people on the shoulder when he's happy. Heavy usually gets it on the arm since he's too tall. Engie will also steer the clumsier coworkers around by the arm. Pyro is very grabby. They like to drag people along with them when they are doing something, and since Heavy doesn't protest, he's often subject to this.

     Some of them get physical when they're angry. Soldier and Medic in particular. They have a tendency to strangle or threaten when they're bothered.

      Medic is interesting. He is friendly enough, and despite his willingness to stab his teammates in the non-medical sense, he is also physically affectionate. A soft slap on the back, a quick touch of the arm, they're pretty common in conversation. And he will throw his arm around his friends in the case of a big advancement. And he will let his hands linger for longer than usually deemed appropriate. And he will brace himself on his friends when he's tired or drunk or injured. And he will find any reason to prod around on his friends's skin with his hands, investigating them...

     His friends don't actually see much of this. This is what Heavy thinks Medic does with his friends, because Heavy experiences all of this. He just assumes Medic is always this "friendly".

     -----

     There's a big round table that the mercs use when they want to have a game night or get together. It's not often that Medic or Heavy come along simply because they're busy. Today, both of them were available, so they sat together and played some cards with Engineer, Scout, Sniper and Demoman.

     Scout was getting pissed off because he kept losing money. Engineer and Demo tried to tell him not to bet too much, but per usual, his ego got in the way and his shitty poker face lost him his cash. Engineer won most of the rounds, but he put a good sum back in the circle because he felt kind of bad.

     Medic was losing all night and sort of frustrated. He was keeping it together well, but he's a very sore loser. Everyone noticed, so it shocked them when he won the big pot and made back all the money he put in. The money lost and gained doesn't matter to him. He could lose a thousand dollars tonight and it wouldn't put a dent in his savings. He just enjoyed the ego boost.

     "I should get going soon. I have paperwork to do." Medic says with a big grin on his face. Engineer sips from his beer can. "That's a load of bull. You just don't wanna lose again." he amuses. Medic's smile widens, he's been caught. "Nein, I must not get behind or I'll never be able to play again! Then you won't be getting any of my money back!" Engineer scoffs and crosses his arm over his other.

     "Didn't you JUST finish up this week's paperwork? That's the whole reason you came, lad." Demoman points out the inaccuracies in Medic's excuse. "I got some more. Do you wonder why you never have to do any paperwork? That's because it's my job. Much, much paperwork." The doctor overexplains himself. His sarcastic exaggeration goes in one of Demo's ears and out the other, and he returns to his bottle.

     Medic chuckles to himself. He rests his elbows on the table with his fingers threaded together, absorbing the atmosphere. It's a nice relaxed night; Even when he was losing his money and Scout was losing his mind, he felt content. He watches the others interact, shuffling cards and talking relatively quietly.

     Heavy is silent. He also appreciates the relaxation this game night provided. It was a sudden one, which was fine with him. The planned ones include everyone and, especially when money is involved, tend to devolve into chaos. He always ends up leaving within the hour. Or doesn't go. Whichever feels more convenient.

     He senses movement beside him and glances over, seeing Medic collecting his earnings and putting them in his pocket. "Leaving so soon?" he mutters. Medic smiles and puts the pen he brought with him in his front pocket. "Yes, I am actually quite tired. It's been a long night." Heavy nods, relating. He's not used to being social this late. "Sleep well then, doctor." Heavy affirms, and Medic pats his shoulder. "Danke, schön. You as well."

     Medic's hand lingers, sliding off when he walks away. He disappears into the hall and Heavy turns back to the table. He doesn't notice Scout and Demo looking at each other with a knowing look in their eyes.

     "Hey, big guy." Scout taps on the table in front of Heavy. He looks up to see them both looking at him, and suddenly Heavy feels slightly less comfortable. Scout concentrates on forming a somewhat respectful question, intending on getting an answer. "What's up with you and the doc?"

     Engie groans at the question, knowing where this is going. He leans back into his seat and shuffles cards in his hands. Heavy is confused at his wording. Scout is one of the hardest people to understand on the team, because his accent is grating and his slang is mostly unknown to Heavy. He raises an eyebrow and Scout takes this as a sign to keep going. "Y'know... What are you guys doin'? How's it goin'?"

     Despite his lazy pronunciation, Heavy picks up what he means. "We are fine." he simply responds. Scout doesn't find his answer satisfactory. He drops the subtlety, wanting a better answer. "What happened right there?"

     Again, Heavy is confused, but it's not a translation issue. "What do you mean?" Scout looks at Engineer, who's shaking his head. He continues. "When he left, he was puttin' his hands on ya'. You just do that or..?"

     Heavy's confusion is not alleviated. "Why? Is it problem?" Scout shakes his hands. "No, no, I'm just sayin'. Guys don't usually do all that stuff. And I was wonderin' what's going on. What's the deal?" He tries to pretend like he's just making small talk, but he and Demo keep staring at Heavy and it makes him suspicious.

      "I do not know what you mean. He is just like that." Heavy tries to explain this to Scout, but Scout interjects. "He isn't like that with anybody else, pal." Engineer scoffs again, and Heavy begins to feel like they know something he doesn't.

     "Explain." Heavy bluntly asks him. Scout leans back in his chair, fidgeting with his hands. Demo groans and leans forward, a hand gripping his bottle for leverage. "Dammit Scout. Just ask him, man." He glares at his friend, and Scout reluctantly continues. "Are you and Medic a thing?"

     The cogs in Heavy's brain turn for a moment, trying to decipher the words coming out of his mouth. It clicks in his head and his eyes shoot open. "A couple?" he tries to get some clarification, and Demoman nods absentmindedly. "No, why do you think that?"

     "I told you, dude!" Scout punches Demo in the arm and he groans dramatically. Heavy gets angry and asks again. "Why?" Scout can tell he's preparing to smash the table over his head, so he defends himself. "'Cause, y'know, uhh..." he trails off, looking at Demo. He is no help, now sulking at the lost bet. He desperately glances at Engineer, and he is distracting himself with a notepad. He has to help himself.

     "Well, uh, you guys are just super close is all. You guys touch each other a bunch, like right there. And you talk about each other all the time. You just seemed closer than usual. Well, not to me, I thought you were just friends. That's what's up, right?" Scout finishes his rambling, ready for Heavy to launch him through a wall. But Heavy just sits there.

     Is his friendship with Medic that close? He never noticed. It didn't feel strange to him. He looks back at their interactions, thinking about all the nights they've spent in surgery or just existing near each other. He grows sort of uncertain at this realization that they might be too close. But he isn't upset about it. If anything, he's starting to realize that he's happy about it. He remains stiff, unexpressive, and his silence is sort of frightening the others.

     "Hey, you alright there?" Engie stops ignoring the situation. Heavy rests his hands on the table and tries to collect himself. "I am fine." Heavy responds, "Just do not know what this means."

     The answered question wasn't worth it. The awkwardness that hung in the air is suffocating. It didn't last long, thankfully, because Heavy decided to leave. He wished everyone goodnight and walked off, leaving Scout, Demo, and Engineer in the room.

     "I told y'all to leave them alone. Now look what you did to him." Engineer patronizes them. Demo cuts him off, "Scout, lad, I think you just sabotaged yourself." He chuckles and Scout shakes his head, frantic. "No, you heard him! He said they're just friends! Gimme my money, man!"

     Scout puts his hand out and Demo gives in. He fishes a ten out of his pocket and drops it in his palm. Scout tucks it away and Demo continues. "I'm just saying. You saw the look on his face, you must'a said something to make him think. I say that if you ask him again next month..." he lets Scout fill in the blanks as he takes a swig from his bottle. "Wanna make a bet on it?"

     Demo and Scout shake hands, and Engineer shakes his head in disapproval. "Oh, don't act like this isn't a good one." Demoman tries to get Engineer in on the bet. He doesn't take the bait. "I just don't think it's your business to be askin', really. But I will say... I didn't think Scout would win."

     -----

     Heavy wanders through the halls. He doesn't think he can sleep after that. Usually he would go to the medbay when he can't, because Medic doesn't seem to need sleep at all. But that isn't a choice right now.      Right now he's wondering if what Scout said was right. Is Medic actually into him? Does Medic even like men?

     Heavy grumbles to himself. He doesn't know if Medic is even open to being asked that question. Heavy has met a lot of Americans who aren't particularly friendly with the idea of a man loving another man. He thinks it doesn't matter. Living in isolated mountains with nobody but his family made him... not picky. But there's a possibility that Medic is like him.

     He hasn't considered it until now, but he does like to be in Medic's company. Hell, he could say he loves it. And Medic is a pretty handsome dude by his standards. His lust for blood doesn't bother him much, either. The pieces fall together in Heavy's head, and he gets anxious for the first time in months.      His pacing is interrupted. Absentmindedly, he walked right in front of the medbay. The subject of his anxiety decides to follow him out into the hallway.

     "You have walked by twice now. What's wrong?" Heavy realizes that he's been pacing for longer than he thought. He fails to come up with a response. Medic doesn't budge.      "I cannot sleep. I am tiring myself." He tries to lie, but he only confuses Medic. His eyebrows are furrowed and his arms are crossed behind his back. "Are you sure?" he asks flatly. "...Yes."

     Medic could immediately tell Heavy is lying. He sighs and walks back into the room, motioning for his friend to follow him in. With a bit of hesitation, he does. The door is held open for him and, for once, he doesn't know where to sit. Everything feels different with this new concept applied, and he hasn't felt this nervous about somebody in years.

     Eventually, Heavy lands on the operation table. It's where he's spent the most time, so he feels comfortable there. He quickly regrets it as Medic sits directly in front of him, in the same chair he's always used during their surgery-talks. The closeness is exactly the opposite of what he needs right now.

     Medic is staring at him, waiting for him to say something, and it's making this experience so much harder than it has to be. Heavy is starting to stress out again. But he doesn't let Medic win this battle of willpower.

     With a heavy sigh, Medic initiates the conversation. "What is happening?" he says with a soft tone. Heavy wishes he could tell him he's what's wrong, but he doesn't know how to say it without getting into his weirdly complicated realization. Now he must either badly lie until Medic gets sick of his shit or tell him.

     Heavy takes a second to collect his thoughts. "I am confused." He lands on the simplest answer he can come up with, and Medic isn't phased. "About what?" he quietly asks. Heavy wishes he would just be loud and brash, and not this soft, careful version of himself. Now he feels like he's special, and he doesn't want that. He continues, "Scout says confusing things at the table."

     "Was he being an ass?" Medic says this like a statement rather than a question, and Heavy huffs a laugh. "No, not much. Just being strange. Stupid." Heavy tells the short truth. Medic smiles, glad his mood has been lifted somewhat.

     "What did he say?" Medic finally asks. Heavy feels his blood pressure go up. He's not ready to answer, but he must do it anyways. "Well. He was saying things about you. Not bad things. Just asking about you." he mutters. Medic scowls at the thought of Scout being intrusive. His hands twist together, and he keeps going. "Was he being nosy? I hate when he does that."

     "No. Is about me, too." he responds. Medic raises his eyebrow, and Heavy's nerves get exponentially worse. "He asks why you are so..." he trails off, wincing as he watches Medic's expression change. "He wants to know why you are so friendly to me."

     The quiet is slightly uncomfortable, but Medic quickly speaks up. "Well, that's because you are my friend. I do not know where the confusion lies." He states this like a fact, which soothes Heavy. But something in the back of Heavy's mind is telling him to spit out the rest of it. Just to see what he would think.

     He elaborates some more. "He says that you are nicer to me than anyone else. He says it is strange." Medic ceases. His face has a look on it that Heavy has never seen before. He looks away from Heavy for the first time since they've sat down and, for some reason, this relieves some of Heavy's nerves. If he just rejects the idea from the start, maybe Heavy can forget this ever happened.

     Instead, Medic becomes hesitant himself, and the relief washes away. Heavy doesn't want BOTH of them to have crises at once. "Well," Medic slowly returns to the conversation, "You are my best friend. I try to treat you with as much respect as possible. It may look strange to him, because I'd sooner saw his leg off than give him that opportunity."

     Heavy feels... disappointed, almost. That part of his brain that is having the crisis wanted him to say something more intimate. But the rest of his brain is fine with staying friends. As long as they can stay together. He tries to read Medic's face, but it's hard to discern right now. Heavy suppresses his anxiety and asks his own question. "I am your best friend?"

     Medic is taken aback, confused why Heavy seems doubtful of his statement. "Of course. You're the only person who finds their time with me well spent, even when I'm elbow deep in your chest cavity! I can't say the others find that to be acceptable. And I enjoy your company as well. I don't know if you've noticed, but you're quite the charmer." He laughs, losing himself in his description. Heavy is still, trying to accept what he's saying. Something about his rambling is inviting Heavy to keep deepening the conversation.

     "I didn't realize I was so entertaining." he mumbles, smiling largely. Medic grins back at him and crosses his leg over the other. "Yes, you have a good way with words." he compliments him. Heavy feels himself relaxing like he usually does.

     "You are also a good companion." he returns the appreciation. Medic chuckles and adjusts his glasses. "You are smart like a crow. English is easier to learn with you." Heavy continued to compliment him back. He is clearly having a hard time accepting it, because his hand keeps returning to his glasses and fidgeting with them. The smile on his face is being stifled. This moment feels right to Heavy.

     But he remembers why he was here in the first place. He lets the laughter die down, and he starts back on track on his own. "Scout thought we are a couple." he flatly adds. He isn't expecting a good reaction, he just needed to let it out.

     The quiet from Medic is only temporary. "I'm not surprised. He asked me that once." Medic recalls Scout's many weird questions, and that was one of them. Heavy is shocked for a moment, but he remembers it's Scout they're talking about, and it quickly dwells. "Does it bother you?" Medic mutters the question, barely audible. Heavy shakes his head no.

     Medic smiles slightly. Heavy feels relieved, like he doesn't need to figure out what they are. They just are. His feelings toward Medic don't have to change it. For now, he's content, and he will address it sometime else.

     Heavy stands, Medic follows. "Thank you for your talk. I feel better." he says. "Any time, reizend." Medic whispers as he crosses his arms behind his back. He watches Heavy lumber out of the medbay, and he returns to his seat.

Notes:

schön = beautiful/lovely
reizend = charming/lovely

Chapter 5: Obliviousness

Summary:

Its the big moment y'all. If this is ooc im super sorry, i realized that it was the second to last chapter and i hadnt even written a confession yet and i was dying to get this done

     One thing Heavy has noticed about Medic is that he isn't well versed in the social part of humans. He has their physiology covered, it's obvious that he understands more about his team's bodies than even they do. But he doesn't tend to understand people's emotions as well.

     This makes the others view him as narcissistic, sociopathic, "a real knucklehead", etcetera. If they're wrong or not isn't clear, but to Heavy, these labels don't mean much. They're all horrible in their own ways. He has the pleasure of knowing Medic on a deeper level than them, and he has come to the conclusion that Medic's misunderstandings are... mostly minimal.

     Medic knows it's not okay to secretly put a new lung into Spy's body just to see how long it takes for the cigarettes to shrivel it. Medic knows it's not good to grow Scout a new leg in a vat and show it to him.

     What Medic doesn't know is that Heavy is absolutely infatuated with him. He doesn't understand when people are actually interested in what he's saying because he is too busy thinking aloud to himself. It's painfully obvious sometimes, with Heavy becoming more and more direct, but he just doesn't notice, and it's driving Heavy crazy.

     It's been about a month since Heavy's realized his real feelings for him, and he wants to do something about them so badly. He just wants to wait for a sign from Medic that they have something, but nothing has changed. Something that he usually finds comforting is now making him wish he never noticed Medic's lingering touches.

     -----

     Heavy finds himself laid out on the operating table. His chest cavity is open and the contrasting comfort of the medigun allows him some peaceful sensation. Medic is in the back of the room, rambling absentmindedly while he looks for some specific tool. Heavy tends to cling onto every word, whether it's to quell boredom or admire his friend. Today is different. He's stressed the hell out, because the plan he hatched to seduce the team Medic is progressing agonizingly slow.

     The melodic atmosphere Heavy tends to relish in is just overwhelming him now. His mind races with memories of the past month, wondering why he isn't getting anywhere with him.

     He recalls the days after his realization. He spent some time away from the medbay to process. When he returned, Medic was happy to see him. He specifically remembered his favorite bird landing on him when he entered. He said 'Ah, schau, Archimedes missed you dearly!' Something about it felt special, and he felt inspired to pursue this feeling in his heart.

     That inspiration began to dwindle the harder he tried. The week after, he made sure to spend extra time near him. He wanted to be close. There was a modification Medic wanted to do to his Uberheart that took a couple of hours. While those hours were filled with friendly banter and laughter, Heavy made sure to slip a couple of line-toeing comments into his retorts. He remembers complimenting Medic's deft touch, his deep knowledge, his vast mindscape. In simpler words, his intelligence. But Medic didn't take it the way he would've liked. He took it as a friendly reminder.

      Heavy made Medic lunch the other day, a sandwich. He made sure to give him an extra olive, he always eats them last because they're his favorite. And while he was grateful as always, Heavy was disappointed when the effort went mostly unnoticed.

     When he, Scout, and Soldier went to the store to get some food, he saw something that reminded him of Medic. A book about medical advancements made in recent years. He figured that he may want to read up on it, either to learn or to gloat about his higher level of acheivement. The present made it back to the base in one piece after Soldier nearly exploded the van with a lighter he bought. Medic was thankful for the gift, glad Heavy thought of him, but it didn't serve as the clue Heavy wanted.

     His slight changes didn't work, so he turned up the pace. He tried to ask Medic to eat with him on a one on one, kind-of-kind-of-not, date, but Medic declined. He said he was busy with a new experiment, and that Heavy was free to join him if he pleased. He did.

     While these experiences were frustrating him, Heavy doesn't hold it against him. He just wishes he could take a hint. Contradictory to his nature with his other teammates, Heavy wants to be careful so he doesn't damage his friendship with Medic. He fears that being direct may drive him away, because he has no clue if Medic would even tolerate his attraction to men.

     Heavy's internal struggle is interrupted by a loud, sharp sound. Breaking glass startles the birds flocking around, and Medic's cursing fills the room. "Scheisse! So ein nutzloser müll!", he hisses and shuffles around in the cabinet for a second. Heavy leans forward as far as he can with an exposed ribcage, peeking at the broken flask on the ground.

     Medic sweeps up the glass quickly, still concerned about the missing object. "Entshuldigung, herr Heavy, I don't know what has come over me." Heavy lays back down. "Doctor cannot find the right tool?" he questions, wanting to understand what has Medic so worked up. Medic continues, "No, I can't. I don't know where I put it." Even though he can't move, Heavy wants to help somehow. "What do they look like?"

     "Er... They're forceps, but they're incredibly small, and they curve. I don't even remember the last time I used them." Medic explains. Heavy thinks back on all of the weird days they had on the table, whatever random ideas Medic had that may have warranted precise tool use and not his bare hands. While Medic roughly searches around in a drawer, he remembers one specific day. Medic was leading a wire through his left subclavian artery for... some reason. "I think you put tool in the bottom drawer of your desk."

     Medic cocks his head to one side, similarly to one of his doves. He hums and shuts the drawer he's standing over. Heavy watches him shuffle over to his desk and rummage theough it, emerging victoriously with the forceps. "Aha!" he exclaims to himself, "You thought you could get away!"

     A small smile grows on Heavy's face at the sight. Medic has a habit of talking to inanimate objects. It's something he must have picked up from being friends with nonverbal birds.

     He returns to the stool beside Heavy, chuckling. The tiny forceps look disproportionate to his large hands. "Thank you, Heavy. I don't know what I would do without you!" Medic rejoices, and Heavy's smile grows. For once, Medic hears what comes out of his own mouth, and Heavy swears he could see him become embarrassed. "No problem, Medic." He addresses him formally, and his friend chuckles again, putting the tiny tool down on the tray beside him.

     Something inside of Heavy is telling him that Medic didn't mean to say that last part out loud. It might be hope, or it might be based on the awkward giggle that escaped his lips. After weeks of the most platonic flirting possible, Heavy realized that there is only one thing that will get him anywhere: Direct confession. Medic has done despicable things, so Heavy's simpler adoration shouldn't be the end of the world to him. At this point, he's decided he has nothing to lose.

     "Doctor has the best laugh." he simply states. Medic freezes.

     "Huh?" he nearly whispers. Heavy elaborates, "It is rich with joy, I like to hear it." Medic's shocked expression doesn't change. His hand hovers above Heavy's open chest. "Really?" Medic responds, in disbelief almost. Heavy only nods. He feels Medic's hands twitch, like he's trying to decipher what he just said. He laughs again, a short and quiet one. His mouth opens as if he wants to say something, but nothing comes out.

     "Is doctor okay?" Heavy asks with a concerned tone. He furrows his brow. "Oh! No, it's okay! I'm just-" Medic wrings his bloody hands together, "I am not used to being er, complimented." Heavy smiles up at him, seemingly making him even more nervous. "I just want you to know." Heavy quietly speaks to him, trying not to startle him. He's never seen Medic so jumbled up like this, he's starting to feel bad for saying anything.

     He lets Medic work on him without interruption. The discomfort of Medic working foreign objects into his system is nothing to the discomfort he just created for himself. He tries to get a read on his friend, but only sees focus on his face. Maybe he overstepped? Heavy retreats to his mind again, trying to figure out his next course of action.

     Before he can get lost in his thoughts, he hears gears shifting above him. The medigun is lowered towards his chest, and his torso is stitched back together magically. Wordlessly, he looks to Medic, who is pale. A spike of anxiety worked its way through him. "I am sorry." he apologizes, and Medic snaps out of whatever trance he let himself get into. "For what?" he responds, confused. Heavy glances away. "Did I make you uncomfortable?"

     Medic shakes his head rapidly, "No, no, of course not!" He pats one of Heavy's shoulders. "I just have a lot on my mind. That's all." Heavy grumbles, ignoring the contact. "Tell me what is wrong." he demands.

     Medic hesitates. "Well. I have a lot of..." the doctor scratches his chin, flipping through his vocabulary, "A lot of apprehension, I suppose." Apprehension? Heavy remembers the definition, but it's use in this situation makes him doubt the validity of his memory. "For what?"

     The demeanor of Medic is usually confident, cocky even. But now he looks unsure. Heavy, in an attempt to calm him down, leans forward into a sitting position and rests his hand over the junction of his elbow. Medic sighs, shaking off his sudden nerves. He quietly continues speaking. "I'm not used to being so close to someone like this. Kind things don't come my way."

     They make eye contact, and Heavy sees a seriousness in Medic's stare that he wants to take away. His logical approach to the situation is beginning to disappear, and he keeps going. "You deserve it."

     Another short, genuine chuckle escapes his lips. "After all the things I have done? Not likely." Medic shakes his head with a small grin on his face. Heavy frowns. "You do. The same way everyone else does. The same way you give me." He grabs his arm a bit tighter, grounding him, and Medic stifles a shocked smile. "Well, if you're so sure, you must be right."

     Heavy isn't satisfied. He can tell he's just diverting the attention away from himself, but he lets go of him. Heavy wants him to understand now, where he's coming from. So after a moment of quiet, he keeps pushing. "I do not have to be right to give appreciation. I just want to. Because you are a good doctor."

     Medic's completely taken aback by the sudden positivity. He stumbles on his words for a second, tense. "I don't know what to say." He nervously laughs and glances around, but his feet stay planted next to the table. "And you are..."

     He has the words but he doesn't have the heart to say them. "You're wonderfully kind."

     "You are the smartest man I have ever met. You have great sense of humor. You can crush the soul of every man who dares cross us." The barrage of compliments that Heavy has stored up in his chest are pouring out. "Your big words make no sense sometimes, but I love to hear."

     His unrelenting stream of compliments is ruining whatever barrier Medic pretended existed between them. He absorbs every sentence and whatever professional front he was trying put up is melting away. He puts his hands down on the table and leans into it, leaning into him. "Heavy."

     "Yes?" Heavy simply responds. He looks at his friend, a bit of a mess but smiling back at him. "What are you trying to say? Really?" Medic's glasses are sliding down his nose, presumably from the nervous sweat he just broke into. His eyes are more relaxed now, looking intently at Heavy.

     "I will be simple. I think you are amazing. And I want to know what you feel." He finally gets the truth out, and Medic finally relents. He leans in further. "I thought you would never feel the same."

     Heavy lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. The distance between them is significantly smaller than it was a minute ago, and he is completely fine with that. He wraps his hand around Medic's, not caring that it's covered in his blood. "This does not bother you?" Heavy asks, still concerned about overstepping. Medic shakes his head, a bit overwhelmed by it all but still grinning widely. "Not one bit, hübscher."

     Even through he doesn't know what he said, Heavy likes the way he sounds. They relax in this company, relieved and happy. "Heavy," the doctor breaks the short silence, "I had no clue you felt that way."

     The mood is soured a tiny bit as Heavy thinks back to all of those hints he gave him. He opens his mouth to address them, but the humor of his cluelessness would likely break the tension. He hums to himself and decides to save it for later. Right now, he has new ground to tread, and he is overjoyed.

Notes:

schau = Look
Scheisse! So ein nutzloser müll! = Shit! Such useless garbage!
Entshuldigung = Apologies
Hübscher = Handsome

Chapter 6: More Than Friends

Summary:

Heavy is confused about he and Medic's status as a couple, and decides to do something about it, dinner date style.

Notes:

Apologies for the wait, I literally FORGOT that i wrote this!! Don't ask how, I would not know how to explain... all I can say is that I kinda hate this fic now, but I thought that all of you who have shown interest in this story should have a proper ending or closure or whatever you wanna call it. Sorry again, and if this isn't what you were expecting to get after waiting for so long... idk what to tell you. I can say sorry again, but that would be the third time, which is two too many. Have fun reading!

-----

моя вторая половинка = my other half

     The relief of confession left Heavy in a good mood. He felt like a weight got lifted off of his chest. A very warm, sweet weight that was crushing his ribcage. Not to mention the emotionally driven escapades that occurred afterwards... that, he is still struggling to process. What matters is that his feelings are mutual, but he and the doctor still need to have a talk about it.

     Personally, he would be fine with being an "unlabelled" couple. That's what literally everyone except Scout believed them to be for a long, long time, judging by the responses he got by asking his teammates about the situation. Even the very oblivious Soldier had his suspicions. And that type of hidden relationship is all Heavy has experience doing, really. As shocked as he was to discover how outspoken Americans can be about homosexuality, good and bad, it's not like Russia is any different at its core. The people there were equally opinionated, just quiet about it since they were more focused on surviving another winter. Heavy is lucky to have a family that accepts him at all.

     Whenever he sees Medic in the halls or on the battlefield and isn't allowed the time to speak with him, he feels like he loses another moment to show his real appreciation. His (admittedly terrifying, yet bizarrely intimate to those who want to percieve it that way) staring is not being noticed, and his kind words went right back to being recieved with full acceptance rather than flattery. His spirits have been effectively lifted, but he can't help but feel... disappointed.

     Heavy thought he got the hard part over with and that he could reap his reward, but it feels like that moment they shared never happened.

     Has he just grown used to their routine? The whole reason why he confessed, or realized he'd been suppressing a crush on him, was because Medic's affections were more than platonic. Medic hadn't changed a thing.

     His hands still linger when they shouldn't. They poke and prod in a way that would unnerve anybody else, as if he were investigating for imperfections, but Heavy recognizes it as him just being touchy as always. Feeling is really important to the doctor. At least, physically. Nobody's too sure about emotionally. He has to make up for his thick rubber gloves getting in the way of sensory input by pushing harder, and it reads as a weird, uncomfortable massage.

     Heavy doesn't mind it. He's got thick skin, after all. If anything, it humors him how his coworkers react to Medic's habit, because it is quite possibly the least strange habit he chooses to display frequently. Publicly. If only the others got the chance to see the "hidden" side of their doctor, the one that only Heavy has seen just by being in closer proximity. They never let Medic have the chance to be close for so long.

     Oh well. More for him. Internal rambling aside, Heavy desperately needs to figure this shit out. What are they? Has anything changed? Is Medic just pretending that never happened, or more likely, is this just another blip in their homoerotic friendship that Medic has decided to move on from immediately? So many questions, yet Heavy barely has enough words to describe what any of this would do or mean to him. He just... needs to know. He needs some sort of confirmation that, yes, that all really happened, and yes, they are explicitly a thing and have the green light to move forward.

     This careful consideration- no, worry- is very uncharacteristic of him, but he can't help but feel confused. Nobody he has ever met has been equally as close and mysterious to him as Medic, and he really wants to know what the hell is even happening in his brain. So today, around a week post-confession, he's decided to talk to him over lunch.

     -----

     Heavy, with some help, put together an extremely stereotypical dinner date in the medbay. It's what his confidant, the Spy, described as "the pinnacle of romance in a situation as dire as theirs". Heavy walks around the room to observe its picturesque-ness a final time. His selection included a tiny round table, dainty chairs (or, as dainty as sterile leather stools from the medbay could be), and a lit candle in the center of the table. It's ridiculous, but he has a plan. He wants to engage with the doctor romantically again, which could be a stressful situation, so he assumed that if the setting was so exaggeratedly romantic, it would remove confusion. He asked that Medic bring the sandwiches to maintain an element of surprise.

     It's incredibly rare that Heavy approaches any topic with such care and subtlety. The privilege had been reserved to his family for the most part, but he cares about Medic like family. He wants him to find this situation appealing, relaxing, or just... something. Anything positive. But now that he's looking at it, Heavy just sees the punchline of a joke.

     Heavy sits down again, facing the door. Technically, the doctor isn't taking very long to get their food, but the wait has felt much longer than usual. Just anxiety, definitely. It's so rare that Heavy felt such a persistent anxiety until that fated poker game. Now, it feels like the main focus of his brain. He hears sharp footfall in the hallway and recognizes it as Medic's. Something like fear, but not quite, freezes his blood as he walks in.

     The doctor, upon seeing the setup, freezes in the doorway. He seems shocked for a moment, like he's never seen something quite like this before. Heavy worries that his fears have been realized, until the Medic grins excitedly. "My, my, Heavy! This is quite nice!" he compliments as he finally walks into the room, "How did you find the time to manage this?"

     Heavy sighs with relief, quickly gathering himself again. "While you were working in warehouse I worked on this. It did not take long." Medic nods along as he says this, his grin widening. "How thoughtful! Here, let me finish this," he says. Quickly, the doctor sets up the plates and sandviches, taking care to place them parallel to each other. It seems he doesn't want to disturb the balance of Heavy's table dressing. Heavy smiles, amused.

     "So... what's the occasion, freund?" Medic asks, glancing up expectantly at Heavy. For the first time in a while, the thought of being honest about his feelings doesn't send Heavy reeling. He's ready for this conversation.

     "I want to know... what are we now?" He simply asks.

     Medic raises an eyebrow, clearly not understanding what he means. "Er, we are a couple. Or, at least, I thought so."

     Heavy blanks. He doesn't have the forethought to hide his expression, which makes Medic laugh. This snaps him out of it. "Wait," Heavy grunts, "you never said... we never discussed this." He pinches the bridge of his nose, now attempting to recall any instance of Medic referring to them as such.

     "Well, I didn't think to establish it. I figured that us being intimate would have tipped you off." Medic puts a hand over his mouth as he laughs, poorly attempting to suppress it. Heavy doesn't understand the humor. He's not mad, just extremely confused. "I didn't think that meant we were a couple! I thought..."

     Well, now that he's saying it out loud, he doesn't know what he was thinking. He knew that the doctor wouldn't change much if they became a couple. That's what he likes about him. Medic is Medic. Medic does weird things like poke and prod and jab, and as of the past week, kiss, without any fear of judgement. He knew Medic wouldn't want to constantly discuss their newfound love and flaunt it around, because they're both old men with jobs, and nobody would be impressed. Maybe, then, he just guessed that they would acknowledge their courtship in some official capacity, but even that seems unlikely in hindsight. Medic has not done a single thing "officially".

     Heavy feels like a fool. But, thankfully, he doesn't mind being the punchline at this moment. All he can focus on is how much Medic is laughing, and the big smile on his face, and the warmth in his eyes when they make eye contact. Warmth that nobody else can see. Heavy smiles back at him and throws his head back, laughing heartily at his misconception.

     "You are right! How could I not see that?" Heavy admits, chuckling to himself. Medic sighs, recovering from the laughing fit. "Well, I must apologize. Now that I think about it, I never did tell you I wanted to be... what would it be? Boyfriend? No, I'm much too old for that..." He clicks his tongue, thinking. Heavy tries to help him along his train of thought. "Would it be 'lover'?" he wonders out loud, wracking his brain for more synonyms. Medic hums, "That could work, but I'm trying to think of a specific word. Ah, I remember!

     "Once, when I was reading a French novel, I stumbled across a word I really liked. 'Beau'. It means 'handsome'. It's subtle, yet meaningful, ja? Nobody will notice." The doctor explains, and Heavy nods. It does sound nice, but... "Won't the Spy notice?" he asks.

     "Oh, I'm not worried about him. You know he minds his business." Medic waves a hand dismissively. Heavy doesn't agree, but also isn't worried about that particular part of the problem: If it weren't for the Spy's advice, this dinner wouldn't have happened. Heavy feels he owes him some updates.

     So, all of that has been sorted out in, what Heavy would like to think was, record time. Their sandviches are still whole, but he isn't very hungry. He fixes his gaze on the doctor again. This renders his new "beau" slightly uneasy. Medic taps the table, occupying himself as he stares right back at Heavy.

     "I think I would prefer to call you something, too," he says as he rests his elbows on the table. It's already tiny, so this closes the distance between the two of them even more than he intended. Neither of them mind. Medic speaks up again. "What would that be?"

     "вторая половинка. The good way to explain it would be... to say you're my other half. In English, I've heard the word 'soulmate'. It is like that." Heavy explains, smiling as he does. He always had a soft spot for closeness, and the fact that he gets to use such a delicate word on his Medic brings him a lot of joy. Apparently, it does the same for the doctor, too. Heavy watches as his other half leans over the table, taking one of his hands in his own. He can feel the closeness despite them barely touching, and it brings an embarrassingly easy heat to his cheeks.

     "I love it," the doctor whispers, leaning in close enough to sense their breath intermingling. He doesn't linger long, instead choosing to lock lips with his newfound love.

     They don't move much in the next couple of seconds. Neither of them are worried about doing the wrong thing. They just want to enjoy the moment for a while. Heavy grabs Medic's other hand, interlocking their fingers together. He revels in the coolness of Medic's gloves, a fine contrast to the rising heat in his body. Once they separate, they look each other in the eyes again. Medic seems to be searching for something, while Heavy simply admires what he sees. "Doctor," he mutters quietly, "do what you will, моя вторая половинка."

     With that confirmation, Medic blows the candle seperating the two out and wraps his arms around Heavy's neck. He returns to their kiss with a new vigor, reaching for Heavy's coat and grabbing on for dear life. Heavy, now emboldened, reciprocates, pushing himself off the table for leverage. He only manages to stop Medic for long enough to navigate around the table. As soon as they're completely face to face again, they get back to work. Heavy wraps his arms around his doctor's torso, feeling the rough fabric of his work coat on his fingertips. This is more than he could ask for, yet simultaneously, not enough. Heavy lifts Medic up by the sides (to Medic's utmost delight) and carries him to the operation table, seating him as gently as he can.

     "My goodness, Heavy!" Medic croons, holding him even tighter. "You act as if I'm as light as a feather!"

     "You are."

     -----

     Unsurprisingly, they forget about the sandviches.