Title: Well-Groomed
Series: Team Fortress 2
Character/pairing: Heavy/Medic
Rating: PG-13
Author's note: Tfchan request thread: This might sound weird, but...haircuts. I have a really big kink for haircuts, shaving or anything similar, and I would really love it if someone wrote something involving any (or all!) of the above.


Heavy returned from the break with a full beard, newly knitted mittens and a thick hat, and a few extra pounds. He came into the operating room before unpacking, before greeting the others who Medic could hear gathering outside in the halls–Scout's voice louder than the others.

"Mother made for you. She says 'tell me about fine young man who keeps my boy alive' and so I tell her many things," Heavy said.

"I'm hardly that young any more, but thank you," Medic said.

Heavy lifted up the hat, a thick ushanka to match Heavy's own, with a small medical cross embroidered in gold.

"Mother made it. She says she does not want your head to be cold in German winter."

"Ooh! I will have to send her my gratitude," Medic said. He put on the hat, and found it full of sort rabbit fur. Heavy reached over to adjust the hat. His beard was long and thick, so much so that any closer and it'd be tickling Medic's chin.

"You've grown into a bear, my friend," Medic said.

"I never shave in native land. Is too cold," Heavy said.

"Well, if you keep it now, Pyro will set your beard on fire," Medic said.

Heavy grimaced.

"I'll take care of it if you want. I just sharpened my razors!" Medic said with glee. Sharp razors were always a good thing to have, after all. Especially in his line of work. They always made him so happy. He pulled out one, and found the finger he'd been missing. Now if only he could remember who it went to. His thoughts were cut short when Archimedes swooped in and took the finger.

"Archimedes, no!"

Oh well. It'd save him the trouble of figuring out where it went to, anyways.

"Is bad time?" Heavy said.

"Ah, no. We can get caught up while I take care of you," Medic said. "I'm sure you have much to tell me."

Heavy brightened at this. He had such a childish, wonderful smile, so much that something so simple as a sandwich would make him beam. It never failed to warm Medic's day as well.

First he pulled out a pair of scissors and began to cut away the excess hair. Snip, snip, snip. It fell onto Heavy's stomach and onto the floor. Perhaps his doves would like to make a nest with it. Once he had trimmed enough, he lathered up soap and spread it over Heavy's jaw. He lingered longer than needed, enjoying the feel of his strong jaw, and just his company.

I missed you. Oh how I missed you. The base wasn't the same without you here.

There were a few nicks of the blade as he worked, but there was nothing wrong with a little blood. Heavy didn't even flinch as he shaved across his neck. Such trust! A single slip, and Heavy would be off to his first visit to Respawn. But Medic's hand held heady as he ran the thin blade up Heavy's neck. While he rinsed the razor, Heavy would start in on a story that would pause every time Medic went to work. Medic got the story of the trip in fits and starts, pieces forgotten along the way.

"—so, mama says, you did not take the borsht—" Heavy began to laugh in the middle of the story, the details which Medic had missed admiring the details of Heavy.

"Oh, did she?" Medic said.

"You must come next time," Heavy said. "Mama, she wants to meet you, and you have not yet seen Sasha's bed."

"If she allows birds, then I would be happy to," Medic replied.

"Of course. Birds always welcome. I will make sure they do not go into stew pot."

Archimedes let out an indignant coo at that. He fluttered up to land on Medic's equipment, spattered in about as much blood as Medic himself was.

"He's come to visit you again," Medic said.

"Hello, birdy," Heavy said in an attempt of gentleness. Archimedes landed on Heavy's arm. "I will always keep birdy safe, do not worry."

"We'll buy a new bed for Sasha together, like you were talking about before," Medic said.

"Yes, good. You will pick out nice bed. Doctor always has good taste."

He rubbed a bit of pleasant aftershave on Heavy's face, smelling of spice and musk to finish, and kept his hands there a bit longer than needed.

"There, all done."

Heavy reached up with one of his large hands to touch his face, his hands over Medic's. Archimedes wasn't even spooked by the movement.

"Make time on calendar, now. Don't forget, mama is waiting," Heavy said.

"I'll be looking forward to it," Medic said.

He pushed himself up. Many things were still left to do—unpacking, registration, contracts—but Medic had been first. He always was, and just knowing that was a constant unasked for reassurance.

As Heavy left, Medic found himself waiting for winter again. The games couldn't last forever, and soon he would be back wrapped in thick coats, with a new hat to keep out the cold.

And Heavy would be by his side, just as he always was.