It was an increasingly common scenario: the mercenary leaning against the wall of whatever apartment they were hiding in that month, cigarette in hand; and the scientist hunched over one of many computer screens, his fingers moving rapidly over the keyboards.

"You'll ruin your eyes sitting so close," Snake informed his partner one day, after realizing that the distance between Otacon's face and the monitor was at least a centimetre shorter than he remembered it being.

"You'll ruin your lungs smoking those things," was Otacon's immediate response. It may have been genuine concern, but right now it just sounded like he was trying to turn the focus away from his own bad habits. Snake grumbled and decided to extinguish the cigarette anyway, not wanting to start that argument again. As he reached for the ash tray, he caught a glimpse of something brightly coloured and cutesy on the monitor. Definitely nothing relating to top secret military data, then.

"What is that? Looks kinda... girly."

"Ah! It's- It's nothing!" Otacon hastily started to close the laptop, but Snake stubbornly held it open while he examined the image. There was no way out of this one. Otacon pushed his glasses up, leaving his hand over his face as though that would hide him from Snake's judging gaze. "It's from Sweetie Cutey Desu Princess. A... fanservice anime."

"Fanservice, huh? Yeah, I can tell." Snake rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "But they've got it all wrong."

"What?"

"Those breasts-- there's no way anyone with such a slender frame should be able to walk around with those things. They'd put too much strain on her back. They're a little high up for someone who doesn't seem to be wearing a bra. Not to mention, with a face like that, you'd think she was a grade-schooler... You're not into that kind of thing, are you, Otacon?"

"N-no! I-- it's the style, a lot of anime tend to--"

"Didn't think so. There's no sex appeal at all." Seemingly satisfied with his examination, Snake pulled his attention away from the screen and focused it on Otacon instead. "That lonely for a woman, huh..."

Otacon could only stammer some more, hoping his face wasn't as bright as it felt. At least he could close the laptop now, not that it mattered at this point. Snake just grunted and pulled another cigarette from his pocket.

"Can't blame you... So, how about it?"

"Huh? About what?" As thrown off as Otacon was, he still had the presence of mind to snatch the cigarette from Snake's mouth before he could locate his lighter. Snake didn't seem too fazed.

"I could be your woman tonight."

"I--" Wait, what? One minute ago, Otacon could have sworn his face was burning hotter than the sun. That sensation paled in comparison to how he was blushing now. Was Snake being serious? The worst part was that Otacon was actually giving his offer some thought. "You're-- we-- I mean, Snake, you--"

Just as planned. Snake smirked and retrieved his precious cigarette, putting it to his lips. "Heh. Just joking."

Oh, that bastard. Otacon huffed indignantly and came close to childishly sticking his tongue out at Snake as he turned his back. "You've got a pretty warped sense of humour. Wait, where are you going?"

"I'm going to get you some real porn." It was said in such a deadpan way that Otacon couldn't tell if Snake was joking or not. He had a sneaking suspicion that he wasn't. He groaned and opened the laptop again, hoping to distract himself from going over the bizarre conversation again and again. It didn't help when he could hear Snake's voice just before he closed the door:

"We both know you'd be the woman, anyway."