Chapter Text
“Okay, wedding planning. How hard can it be?”
Sniper looked up from the list on the table. “Very.”
“C’mon, it’s just a list of decisions, right?”
Sniper sighed, plucking the pencil from Scout’s grip before he could accidentally throw it. “It’s a list of decisions, yes, but this is most likely going to be one of the biggest parts of our lives.”
“So?”
“So we should make it feel as important as it is.”
Scout hummed at that. “Yeah, makes sense. But I’d marry you anywhere! Heck, I’d even skip the ceremony if that’s what you wanted! Why does it matter so much if we’re going to be spending the rest of our lives together? I already care about you so much, y’know?”
Sniper looked at him, confused. “Have you secretly had all that in your head this whole time or was this one of those moments where someone accidentally gains ancient wisdom?”
Scout half-heartedly swatted at Sniper’s arm. “Oh shut up.”
Sniper chuckled, grabbing Scout’s hand and kissing it before letting him go and looking back to the list. “Okay, first things first: what do you want to wear?”
“A big flowing dress with flowers on it,” Scout said as if it was obvious and Sniper should’ve known this from the beginning.
Sniper looked at him again. “Have you by any chance been waiting for this moment?”
“Yes.”
“Right. I suppose I’ll just go simple with a suit then.” He wrote something down, Scout peering over his shoulder. “Okay, now the best man and maid of honour. Who do you want?”
Scout thought, squinting slightly before he squinted too much and couldn’t see. He sighed sitting back. “I dunno, I… I think I wanna ask Ms. P. We’re real good friends now, and I want her there.”
Sniper nodded. “Makes sense. You can ask her and I’ll ask Engie,” Sniper said, scribbling the names down. “Then we can find our other groomsmen and bridesmaids later.”
Scout had gotten distracted and accidentally poked himself with a pencil while Sniper was talking. Sniper just sighed and moved on.
“Where do we want to hold it?”
“How about Australia? I’ve never really properly been to your home, so we could go there!”
Sniper looked a little surprised at that. “You really want to go there?”
“Well, yeah! You’ve been to Boston so many times, and I wanna go to your home now to make it fair! And because the place is important to you, we should probably hold it there. Y’know, like you said, we should make it important.”
“Now you agree with me?”
Scout shrugged.
Sniper shook his head then looked back to the list. “This next part should be fairly simple. Theme. You said you wanted a flowery dress, so we can have a floral theme. Do pastels sound good?”
Scout nodded. “I wanna do pastel pink and maybe… mint green? Then white, ‘cause tradition.”
“Perfect,” Sniper said as he tore the piece of paper from the notepad. “Now we can start getting everything prepared.” He jotted things down, Scout watching even though he couldn’t read any of it too well. Sniper’s handwriting was messy.
Sniper looked over the list then handed it to Scout. “First we get you a dress. My suit won't be too much trouble, I can do that on my own. We’ll go to your ma, because you said she’s very good at sewing. Then we’ll get the decorations in order so we don’t have a last minute panic. After that we can get rings, choose our groomsmen and bridesmaids, and get the small details down.” He frowned. “I forgot, we need an officiant.”
“Isn’t Medic qualified? Or his friend? We’ll just ask him.”
“That’d be a great idea if Medic’s friend wasn’t on BLU team.”
Scout grinned. “C’mon, that can’t stop us! We just ask Medic to ask BLU Medic! Easy as pie.”
“That could work,” Sniper said, tapping the pencil against the table. “What harm could it be? We’ll ask him after we get the rings.”
“Perfect! Off to Ma’s, then, yeah?”
Sniper nodded, standing up. “Unless you want to take a quick break before we leave. This is our event, and we’ve earned a little fun, dontcha think?”
Scout’s grin widened at that and he shot up, grabbing Sniper’s hand. “Uh, hell yeah, duh I wanna do that. Who do you think I am, some un-fun guy?”
“That’s not a word.”
“Shut up and let me kiss you.”
-~X~-
Scout practically jumped out of the van once they pulled up at his Ma’s house, running up to the door before Sniper had even made it to the sidewalk.
Sniper caught up as Scout’s Ma, Dayla, opened the door. She pulled them both inside, crushing them with an enthusiastic hug (God, that woman was strong). “Oh, it’s so good to see you two again! And for a wedding! How exciting!” She let them go, pulling the two to the back room.
“As soon as I got your call I started drawing some stuff up! I have so many options. Orchids, lilies, lotus, the whole flower shop!” She gestured to the wall, where dress sketches were pinned up, notes scribbled on the papers without much care for aesthetics.
Scout looked them over, studying the subtle differences and the flowers. They were all so beautiful, but nothing had caught his eye quite yet.
“Now, with your body type and style, I’d say you’d look the best in an A-line or ball gown, but we could try something else…”
Scout wasn’t paying that much attention. He was busy looking over one inspired by begonias. “I like this one. The petals falling look nice with the skirt.”
Dalya gasped. “So you were paying attention when I was talking about fashion! Oh, you’re too sweet, Jeremy!” She nudged Sniper. “You better make sure he feels good about this dress, alright young man?”
She took the paper from the wall, putting it on the desk. “Alright, dear, now we get to modifications! What do you like about this and the others that we can mix into one?”
Scout looked at the sketches on the wall, thinking. “The ball gown looks good, maybe with a more waterfall lookin’ skirt. And then the petals flowin’ down? Yeah, that sounds good, especially with the neckline on this one," he said, grabbing sketches form the wall.
Sniper clearly had no idea what was being said, but Dayla was equal parts excited about the dress and in awe that Scout of all people knew this much about dresses.
Sniper left the room, not feeling like being there when all he knew about dresses was as follows: you wear it, and it’s called a dress. He made his way to the living room, sitting against the couch’s armrest.
It smelled like cinnamon in Dayla’s house, with a faint , yet extremely familiar, cardamom scent. “Afternoon, Spy.”
“Good afternoon to you as well, bushman.” Spy was sitting in the armchair, one leg over the other as he read some extremely thick book. “You and that hyperactive rabbit of a boy are here for your wedding, yes?”
“‘S right.”
Spy nodded. “Dayla was quite excited about you two coming over. She even made me cloak when you arrived.”
“So that’s why my hat 'fell off'.”
“Yes, I was feeling like letting you know I was still here.”
“I woulda known anyways.”
Spy raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue. “How long before he realises?”
“He’ll probably come out here, lay on me, spend five minutes pretending he isn't asleep, then realize I’m talking to you when he wakes up.”
“Hmm. Five dollars says he realises when he walks in.”
Sniper snorted. “Easy money for me then. You’re on.”
They idly chatted, Spy much more talkative than usual. He must’ve been comfortable. It was nice there, especially compared to the base.
It took a while for Scout and Dayla to finish up with the designing and measurements, but Scout eventually wandered into the living room.
“I had no idea there were that many measurements when you get a dress made.” He flooded onto the couch, draping himself over Sniper with a sigh. “You’re warm,” he said, voice muffled from his face being pressed into Sniper’s chest.
He quickly fell asleep, and Sniper motioned for Spy to pay up. The Frenchman sighed, then handed over the money. “Lucky guess, bushman,” he grumbled, but he’d known he never really had a chance at winning.
Sniper rubbed Scout’s back, feeling the man’s breath even against his shirt. Scout was ridiculously innocent looking when he was asleep, like a bunny. Sniper just looked like a t-rex.
Just as Sniper had said, Scout slept against his chest for five minutes before jolting awake to declare that he “wasn’t sleeping, just… resting my eyes!”
He looked around, rubbing his eye with a yawn. “Oh, hey Spy.” Everyone in the room just looked at each other as Scout processed. “Waitaminute- Spy, what are you doing here?!”
Spy gave a slow clap. “I’m impressed. It usually takes much longer for your remaining brain cells to put everything together.”
“Hey!” He crossed his arms, glaring at Spy. “Why are ya in Ma’s house anyways? You aren’t my dad!”
“Then who is?”
“Tom Jones, obviously. He told me himself.”
Spy sighed. “Jeremy, Tom Jones has been dead for a very long time.”
Scout looked confused at that. “What? But he-” He stopped as Spy pulled out his disguise kit. Scout watched as Spy was enveloped in smoke that faded to show a perfect replica of Tom Jones sitting there. Spy removed the disguise, observing Scout, who was completely silent.
Sniper didn’t move, but Scout grabbed his hand and squeezed it like a stress ball. It hurt, but Sniper didn’t pull away. Scout swallowed, staring at Spy as he tried to get his voice to function. “You left.”
Spy hadn’t been expecting that. He’d expected Scout to yell at him, to lash out, to deny it, something he could deflect. But instead, he’d been slapped in the face with the same tremble in Scout’s voice from when Spy first left all those years ago.
“...I did.”
“Why?”
Hmm. Spy wasn’t sure he had a thought up, well structured, emotion hiding answer. “I couldn’t help to see you or your family get hurt.” Well, thanks mouth for saying that without permission.
“Who would hurt us? We were a family. I loved you.”
Oh. Oh that stung. That stung worse than every insult, every lash out he’d taken from nearly everyone he’d met. “I’m a spy, Jeremy, I have plenty of enemies who wouldn’t think twice about hurting you.”
“So? You coulda protected us, right? You coulda taught us how to fight instead of running away from us like you didn’t care.” Scout looked away. “Clearly ya don’t care right now.”
“Jeremy Willis, I care about you and your family far more than I’ve ever cared about myself.” His tone was stern, and thick with something almost like… guilt? “I left because I couldn’t bear to see a wonder woman like Dayla live with someone like me. And I certainly could not risk hurting you because of how much I despise my own being. Compris?”
That caught Scout off guard. Spy cared? That was ridiculous, he’d never… no, he wouldn’t. He was lying, he always was. But the way his hands were gripping the material of the armchair to stop them from trembling made it feel true. And maybe Scout just wanted to believe his dad cared about him, even if it was just smoke and mirrors.
Scout nodded, his knowledge of French finally coming in handy. Because why wouldn’t he know French? He’d found books in his Ma’s room in French and learned just to read them. Why did he read them?
The note on the inside said they were for him. From his dad. From Spy.
Spy sighed, reaching for a cigarette before remembering Dayla’s rule and folding his hands neatly in his lap. “Do please forgive me, Jeremy,” he said, voice unusually soft.
“...I’ll try.”
That was good enough for Spy, who leaned back, the tension slowly fading from his posture. He looked like a weight had been finally lifted, and Scout could feel himself starting to feel more comfortable.
Spy stood, brushing invisible dust from his suit. “I do hope everything goes well for you. You two will be happy together.” With that, he left the room, disappearing.
Scout let out a long, slow breath, melting into Sniper’s hold.
“Are you okay?”
“I think so,” Scout answered, closing his eyes and resting his head against Sniper’s. They sat in a comfortable silence for a while until Scout couldn’t stand the silence anymore. “You’re getting scruffy,” he pointed out, rubbing his cheek against the rough stubble on Sniper’s face.
“Really? Didn’t notice.”
“I like it.”
“I know.”
“Did you do it for me?”
Sniper’s silence confirmed Scout’s suspicion.
“Aww, you’re so sweet,” he said, kissing Sniper’s cheek. “You’re like a lil mutt. My lil mutt,” he continued, peppering Sniper’s face with kisses.
Sniper grumbled but didn’t move away, ears tinted pink.
Footsteps from down the hallway drew the pair’s attention away from each other. Dayla appeared in the doorway with a smile, holding some papers. “I’ll have the dress finished in around a month if that sounds alright.”
Scout grinned. “Yeah, that’s awesome. Thanks, Ma.”
“Oh, anything for my boy!”
Scout untangled himself from Sniper, standing up and adjusting his hat. “Appreciate it. We’ll probably be heading out now. Thanks again.”
Sniper stood as well, nodding his thanks to Dayla. Scout hugged Dayla goodbye then took Sniper’s hand as they went out to the van. “What’s next?
“Rings. I’m thinking bugs?”
“Hell yeah.”
“Great. I love you.”
“I love you too.”