review = sex scene in next chapter
do it.
"Surprise!"
Big Boss looked up briefly. Miller swept aside a couple of girly magazines and clunked two whiskey glasses and a decanter on the coffee table.
"Not really in the mood, Kaz," he grunted.
"Not that - look!"
He looked. "Oh!"
"See? Weapons development has your sniper rifle ready," Miller grinned and flopped onto the ratty sofa beside him.
Snake felt a foolish smile creep across his face. Kaz always knew how to put him in a good mood. His energetic enthusiasm was infectious.
"Told ya Boss, this place is really shaping up," Miller clapped him on the shoulder.
Snake pretended to recoil from his whiskey breath, rasping out an offended: "you started without me!"
Miller shrugged, laughing. "You're a lightweight, I needed a head-start."
"Right," Snake snorted. "Give me that. And a light."
He listened to his old friend talk as he poured and puffed contently. Soon all memories of Kaz bagged and tagged in the desert were temporarily replaced by happier times, viewed through the warm fuzz of alcohol. Guns, feet and beret on the table, they reminisced until Miller's head drooped onto Snake's shoulder, dozing in cosy comradery.
"Did you ever ... did you ever see her again?" Miller slurred.
"Who." Snake grunted.
"You know the one ... the - the dark one!"
"Going to have to be more specific Kaz," was the amused reply.
"She was a fox!- oh look, just in time! Hey!" Miller broke off his tipsy interrogation and waved his hand at who had just walked through the meeting room door. The person stiffened awkwardly for some reason. "Ocelot! Bring us that bottle, will you?"
"I think you've had enough, Kaz," Snake repressed a chuckle.
Miller had slipped onto his lap, his glasses askew in his slicked back blonde hair. "Lightweight," he mumbled, voice muffled by Snake's trouser leg.
"Ocelot, do us a favour would you and help me get him up?" asked Snake.
Ocelot gave him a scalding look in the midst of shaking rain drops off his leather trench coat. It pierced Snake's tipsy fuzz. Not this again.
"Not great out there," was all Ocelot said.
"You're no fun. Just leave me here with the bottle," Miller complained, patting the couch. "It's fine."
"Can't have recruits seeing you like that," said Snake, shifting his weight gently out from underneath his friend.
"No no, pillow has to stay," Miller seized him by the leg.
"If you're not going to help, at least bring his crutches," Snake muttered to Ocelot as he prised Miller's grip from his thigh and hoisted him to his feet. "Lean on me Kaz. There you go."
"Ugh," was Miller's only response.
Ocelot donned his coat again, turned up his collar, and the three of them traipsed out into the rain. Rough waves were slamming into the side of the base, spewing foam over the concrete. Snake wrapped his arm around Miller's waist and led the slow shuffle to the next wing, heads bowed against the wind.
"Card key?" Ocelot sounded bored.
"Breast pocket," Snake grunted.
"Well. So long fellas," Miller's weight was transferred to the doorway and he reluctantly hopped to receive his crutches. "Can't tempt you with another?"
Snake gave him a friendly pat. "Next time, Kaz."
"No goodnight kiss?" he made a puckered up face.
"Mwah," Snake snorted, "get out of here."
He heard Miller snicker as he swung the door shut. With raised eyebrows Snake turned to automatically share his amused expression with the person next to him and was met with the same furious stare he had been subjected to earlier. Ocelot's cheeks were flushed above the scarf he was using to protect his face from the cold corridor.
"Give me a break," Snake shoved him out of the way in irritation. He was sobering up, and it wasn't pleasant.
"Not your first rodeo, huh Snake?" replied Ocelot, his eyes glittering strangely.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Snake growled.
The Russian didn't reply. Merely gave him 'the look' as he stalked past, brushing imaginary lint from his jacket.
"Hey," Snake seized him by the elbow, which responded in the predicted flurry of blows and the two of them slamming shoulder first into the wall. "What's your game, Ocelot?" He would have preferred to look down on him, intimidate him, but Ocelot was just too tall.
The latter tugged his scarf down, allowing himself to recover his breath more easily. "Miller."
Snake tried to shake him, one hand bunched in the fabric of his shirt, but Ocelot resisted.
"Get your hands off me, Snake."
"What are you talking about then?" he grated angrily.
"You and Miller."
Snake was at sea, literally and metaphorically. He stared at Ocelot's face, watching the colour rise, dark pink blossoming across those high cheek bones. He seemed dually furious and embarrassed. And then it clicked.
Snake let out a breath of air, a humourless laugh. "So ... so that's it."
Ocelot merely looked angrily uncomfortable. Snake yanked him forward by the collar, pulling him off balance, and spinning him so his back was to the wall. Realising what was happening Ocelot fought back, pushing against him and raking his boot down Snake's shin. He cursed, driving a knee between Ocelot's legs in an attempt to pin him but he was two quick for him. They whirled about again. Ocelot's free hand was grasping for his face, trying to push his head away, but finally Snake's shorter size came in handy. He slipped under it, ramming into the taller man's chest and driving him back against the opposite wall. There they leered at each other for a few seconds, heaving heavy clouds of condensation into the air.
"Snake," said Ocelot sardonically.
"Bit late for formalities," was the answering growl. "Why do you run from me, Ocelot? Tell me."
"Heh," Ocelot snorted. "Give it up, I haven't got time for this."
Snake's frustration was mounting. The silvery blonde smiled at this, letting his head tilt back against the wall. Those slanted cat eyes were almost laughing at him. Teasing him. Snake released his hold on the cloth and slipped his hand inside the trench-coat, getting a rough grip on the other man's waist.
"Hands off, Snake," Ocelot immediately snapped.
"Be quiet," Snake commanded in his gravelliest voice, and let his grip drop, thumbing the belt, reaching for the curve of Ocelot's ass. He almost laughed as Ocelot bared his teeth in a snarl. "Now. Go on then, Ocelot. Tell me you don't want it."
Ocelot made to respond furiously but stopped at the look on Snake's face. He took a deep breath, biting back everything he wanted to say, brow furrowed. He continued to squirm a little under Snake's hold. Both resistant and willing.
"Tell me!" Snake barked, "tell me you don't!"
But there was silence. Broken only by their heavy breathing and the crash of the sea, the splatter of rain on the building's overhang. It was hard to tell who moved first, but they came together with crushing force, lips together in hard, needy clashes that almost resembled kisses. Snake had pulled Ocelot's hips against his and rubbed them together, breaking apart only to surface for air. Ocelot's mouth was left red and bruised. Still he protested silently against Snake's pawing, coy deflections of hands and elusive wriggling. Snake found it maddening - and addictive. He'd found out how to pause it, by pressing his lips against the writhing man's neck, palming his crotch with his hand, eliciting small, involuntary noises and weakening his struggle.
They both froze as a new noise penetrated their world. The sound of heavy boots on metal. Snake looked over his shoulder to see the wavering yellow disc of a flashlight, sweeping back and forth as one of the soldiers made his rounds.
"Ugh. Come on." Snake grabbed his prey by the shirt and dragged him forward, stumbling over each other's legs until Ocelot consented to the journey. They hurried down the corridor and peered out into the rain. With another grunt of annoyance, Snake turned again, heading for a bunch of stacked shipping crates, waiting patiently to be unpacked.
"What are you doing ..." Ocelot didn't sound amused.
"Come here," was the impatient reply. Snake whipped out a flat, compacted slab of cardboard.
"Oh jesus, you can't be seri-"
"Quiet!" Snake hissed. "I have 4 out of 5 of these left now, no thanks to you!"
"Why were you messing around in one then?!" Ocelot retorted.
"You told me they'd finished researching them! I wanted to try it out! I wanted to show you!"
"Oh my god-"
"And you kicked it! You destroyed it!" Snake whispered furiously, yanking him by the scarf so hard it came off.
Ocelot raised his eyebrow.
"You sick fuck," finished Snake.
"Is someone there?" a voice called into the sheets of rain and sea spray. The torch flashed past.
Snake flapped the cardboard box into shape and dragged Ocelot beneath it with him, where they crouched together in the stuffy darkness. Ocelot started to say something and Snake stuffed the scarf in his mouth. They waited tensely. Seconds dragged by as they felt, or rather sensed, the confused soldier's presence. The footsteps slowed, the torchlight touched the box, and then moved away.
"Must've been my imagination," the man muttered.