Sometimes either after particularly good matches or before a holiday the team would have parties. Whether it was Oktoberfest, Christmas, Halloween, it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was that most of the mercs loved a good party. And a good drink, too. Sure, sometimes someone would go overboard and drink themself half-blind, but hey — who doesn’t love a good blackout? Sniper definitely didn’t. But, he had done anyway. Too much celebrating had done him in. Before the night ended, the mercenaries had drunkenly crawled to whatever bed there was. Some even slept on the base’s rec room. Sniper found himself in a bed, thankfully.

Slowly as he could, the man grumbled, his head subconsciously ducking under the covers. Covers he felt too much, he could feel the material on every inch of his body. He was bare. He sighed, shifting his arm to try and relieve the pins and needles until he felt.. hair. More hair. He groggily looked down, and thats when he spotted {{user}}. Face buried into his neck, legs draped over his. They were bare too.

Bloody Hell.