CHAPTER 6
Dirty

"Oh Goddesses, Link! You weigh a ton." Zelda let out a sharp exhale as she tried catching her breath, staring at the drowsy man she sat upright on his couch. "Stay put, I'll just go find some wipes." Link's eyes were half-closed but he still managed to nod a response. Zelda was just about to leave when she felt him grasp for her hand.

"No, don't leave me—you always leave me!"

Zelda gently shook his grip off. "I'm not leaving you, Link. I'm just going to find something to help clean you up, filthy boy." She paused to assess what she had just said. That—sounded better in my head, she told herself before shuddering the thought away.

Zelda swore the Lost Woods would be far easier to navigate than Link's bathroom. Used towels and dirty clothes were piled up everywhere, empty shampoo bottles used up so much of the free space, and there were even some goddess-damned ramen cup noodles on the sink. With all these misplaced things lying around, Zelda knew that not even her Triforce could help her find some wet wipes.

"Might as well…" she said to herself, picking up a towelette she was unsure was used for. She called out to him from the bathroom, "Link! I hope you won't mind me using this towelette instead. I am not in the mood to start a search party for some stupid wipes." No response came from him, so she peered through the door and noticed him sitting in some weird forward bent position, his face turned towards the floor.

"All right, Link. Stop this nonsense—help me clean you so I can go to bed and—!"

"RAH!" He shot up and Zelda stumbled on her bottom, scared shitless. She placed a hand against her chest, feeling as if her heart was going to explode from the inside. She scowled at Link who was laughing at his own antics.

"I've always—I've always wanted to do that! I can never do that back in Hyrule!"

"You think you're so fucking clever now, huh?" Zelda said, indignant.

Link smirked at her, finally recovering from his fits of laughter. "Never heard you say the f-word before, you say it sexy." He seemed unfazed when the princess sent him her signature death stare, arms folded and taunting that he try that again. "Aw come on, Zel! We're just having some fun."

"And isn't being a drunken Moblin amusing enough for you already?"

"Nah, because you're not laughing! Come on Zelda, you're always so serious and so uptight!" He pulled her torso towards him and enveloped her in a muddy hug. "Plus, you promised to help me clean up, remember?"

"Fine!" She seemed defeated once again by those deep blue eyes. "But you will cooperate or I will burn you so bad on our match next week." Link loosened his grip from the hug and Zelda immediately discerned the several blots of mud and soil that clung to her white skirt. "This is going to be a pain to remove! Thanks a lot, Link."

"You're welcome, princess," he slurred.

"Now we both have to get cleaned up." Zelda took out the towelette from early and splashed some warm water over it. "Now stay put," she demanded as she firmly wiped the smudges off Link's face, causing warm red streaks to form as she did.

"Hey—ouch! Ow! That fucking hurt!" Link complained.

"Really? I thought I swore you were numb," Zelda chortled, wiping the last bit on his lower jaw and felt her heart jump when she thought how chiseled it was.

"I had alcohol, not painkillers!"

"Samus says they're the same thing," Zelda was quick to retort. With her work done, Link looked like he had just come from an expensive three-hour facial treatment. This time it was Zelda's turn to be thrown in a fit of chuckles, but unlike Link, she still did so with an air of grace. "Oh my Goddesses, don't you look handsome."

Link couldn't help himself from the feverish merriment, laughed alongside her.

"I just want to test something," Zelda said, playfully slapping his right cheek. "Did that hurt?"

"Nope." Link did the same, painting her right cheek with a small brown spot. "Well, did that?"

Zelda shook her head. "No."

Link laughed again and Zelda smiled simply, finding herself immersed in these small moments that she shared with her friend. Her wise eyes focused on him, observing the hero who would in no moment's doubt persist to lay his life for the kingdom… for her. Though that was only the surface of the man she knew and he was just so much more inside. Zelda could only thank Hylia that she was given the chance to get to know him at this level and become a part of his personal life. Back in Hyrule, obligations set them apart, but here, they had the freedom to spend every second of their lives with one another.

"For someone so drunk, you look incredibly… wonderful," Zelda whispered. "I'm certain you wouldn't remember any of this, Link, but I have this wish that we could be something more than friends. Something more intimate. But, you know, it's just a thought."

Link let out a belch that completely ruined her romantic moment. "Hey Zel!" he called out. "I thought you were going to clean me up?"

"I just did! Don't you thi—"

Zelda halted herself when Link began unbuttoning his shirt before tossing it carelessly to the floor. Her eyes widened and any exhausted muscles in her body were suddenly shot with adrenaline. Hylia, isn't today just really full of surprises?!

"What are you doing, Link? As I've said, I am done cleaning you up!" Zelda protested.

Link stretched out his arms and Zelda's eyes quickly darted to places she knew were forbidden. She shifted her gaze back to his face as soon as he relaxed.

"Well the service to your people doesn't end there, princess," he smirked.

Zelda wished at that moment she had made her leave when she had the chance… or not.

"You know what? Fine. Just don't try any funny business and stay put," she emphasized the latter.

A diverse array of emotions pranced around Zelda's mind. Years of Hyrulean formalities and etiquette training warned her of the indecencies that can occur between a man and a woman, but her knowledge of biology and even philosophy did not shame her will to explore—rather, it encouraged her. She ran the cloth from his shoulders to his collarbone, then down to those washboard abs rippling along his lean torso. Zelda's fingers began to tremble, her mind in a frenzy.

"Are you trembling?" Link asked.

"Oh, uh, well—uh no… umm…" Zelda stuttered. "Did you really just have to ask? Won't you allow me to clean you in silence?"

He ignored her dispute. "Aww, you cold? Does someone need a hug?"

"I'm fine, Link. Just… shut up," Zelda yawned through her words. The curtains that covered the windows did little to help her distinguish what time it was.

Link embraced the princess, nonetheless. Enveloping her petite frame as he rubbed her shoulders with eyes closed and a goofy grin on his lips, looking like a child enjoying a hug from his favorite stuffed toy. Meanwhile, Zelda shook nervously under his touch. She has never felt so much skin touch her before—sweaty, burly, and sexy skin at that. She awkwardly placed her hands around his back, returning his hug.

Regrettably, she had to push him away. "Now please, Link. Behave yourself," she said between yawns.

"Aww, poor Zellie's exhausted! Y'know, we… should… snooze…"

The topless Link passed out on top of her, outbalancing the princess and causing her to stumble her back against the cold wooden floor. Zelda grunted as she struggled underneath his weight. "Link! Argh! Wake up you, ass—you're way too heavy!"

With another strong push, he was finally off her. She then looked down at the helpless man who seemed satisfied with the fluff of the rugged floor. Zelda felt that he quite deserved that, and left him there; but only after she had placed a feather pillow under his head and given him some covers.

"Sleep tight, my little filthy fugly hero," she sighed softly, planting a tender kiss on his temple that lingered for a while. "I love you."

Zelda walked over to his bed and fell face-flat on the mattress, dead tired. She cared little of having not showered or changed. She wasn't even granted three minutes of peace when his voice blurted out in the dark.

"Hey, Zelda?"

"Yes?" she responded in a calm, low voice, not bothering to leave her position on her bed.

"Am I really fugly?"

Zelda almost snorted. "Yes."

"Oh… Okay."

"Go to sleep Link."

"Yeah, I fucking will already." There was a long pause before Link casually added, "Oh, and Princess Zelda?"

Zelda groaned. Didn't the bastard say he was finally going to sleep? "What now, Link?"

"I love you too."

Snake scanned his biometrics, gaining entry into Samus' room. Although he knew that it was perfectly fine for other Smashers to have access to their friends' personal quarters, he was still wary of the surveillance cameras in the area. Just a few months ago after he and Samus began doing—well, their secret rendezvous, he was able to pinpoint the location of every CCTV in the room and was grateful (and somehow apprehensive) that Samus' room was located in a blind spot.

It wasn't the first time he had been in her room, but he wasn't a frequent visitor either. He always found himself amazed by the interior design—something that Samus had mentioned before that she came up with on her own. The first time he was in her room, he thought he was in a sci-fi movie. Jugular lines covered every inch of the room, etched across the dark gray walls and pillars and emitting blue light, similar to the glowing insignia Samus had on her zero suit. Whatever it was, it was beautiful, rigid, and mysterious—resembling Samus Aran herself.

Snake locked the door, making sure he heard the click. "You can cut the act now," he said, walking over to the side of the bed where he sat her down. "I know you're not really that drunk, Sam. Don't think I'll be leaving you alone just like that."

Samus raised a brow, and she could tell that he could see her even in the dark. "So, what gave it away?" A pause, then she heard him scoff.

"Just an instinct you weren't a low tol, and if I've calculated correctly—you've only had about two whole AMFs and four shots."

"So, you really were watching me."

"Aw, what gave that away?"

She rolled her eyes at his sarcasm. He scooted beside her and she couldn't help but gaze down to his well-built physique, every enticing curve of his muscles was highlighted under the shadows of the dimly lit room and Samus thought her heart would pound its way out of her chest. When did she ever begin to realize that she had been longing for him? The more time they would spend time together—the more she learned about his arduous past, his peculiar interests, his odd charisma, she swore it seemed that she wanted to hurry up and marry the man.

"Like what you see?" Snake smirked.

Samus rolled her eyes. "As if. Wario's got a better body than you'd ever have."

He knew she was teasing and wanted in on this little game of hers. "Is that so?" he said with a sly grin, swiftly moving on top of her and satisfied to see the confounded expression portrayed on her face. He began unbuckling his belt. "I guess if Wario's got this amazing body then you'd gladly do him instead, huh?"

Samus stayed still, laying in the dark under the man she knew was carefully watching her. She wished Snake could watch the scenario she had in mind at that very moment. It had been a little secret fantasy of hers for the elite soldier to dress up in his sneaking suit, scale the walls of the mansion, evade the surveillance cameras and armed guards on patrol. She wanted him to climb to her balcony, sneak into her bedroom window, and stand at the foot of her bed—an intimidating, leering shadow. Then she wanted him to rip her suit off, cover her mouth with those coarse hands, and ravish her until dawn.

"I'm surprised no one died tonight," Samus chortled, suppressing the palpable sexual tension rising in the atmosphere.

"Didn't you say Peach almost killed someone?"

"Yeah—she tackled some bitch who was ogling over Mario."

"Mario?"

"Yeah. Mario."

He raised a brow. "Someone was ogling over Mario?" he repeated himself, just to make sure he didn't hear her wrong.

"Yes, Snake," she confirmed. "Mario may not be the most attractive appearance-wise, but he's very popular and, not to mention, worth a lot of ka-ching."

"Hm, I'm a bit curious then—who do you find attractive?"

Samus rolled her eyes again, knowing where this was going. "Oh, don't get your hopes up, David," she smirked.

"Why so resistant, Aran?" He was still on top of her and he took full advantage of this view to examine how she could be imbued with an allure that also seemed so feral. Snake remembered the codec call with Otacon—she was totally his type of woman. "What can I do to change your mind?" he whispered to her, leaning in so close he felt the rhythm of her breathing.

Samus chortled. She grabbed Snake by the torso and he stumbled forward but was careful not to crush her.

"Kiss me," she demanded.

When he complied, she began to take the lead. It wasn't like their usual, forceful sex-fuelled make outs—rather, it was more well-paced and enchanting as if one was reciting their favorite poem. Their lips were locked for about twenty seconds before either broke away and gasped for air.

Samus moved her hands to cup his scruffy face. He looked a bit different. Of course, he still had those deep set of war-hardened eyes that carried with them the wisdom of a legend, but his gaze was… softer, as if he was showing her a side to him that was vulnerable to the world. Samus gave him the sweetest smile she could muster, her blue-green pools sparkled in the dark.

"I love you, Snake," she mouthed to him.

Snake found himself at a loss of words. He studied her for a moment to see if she was going to suddenly burst out laughing, yet noticed no curve of a lip, not in the slightest. "Sam, I—no tricks?"

She wordlessly shook her head. This time, Snake moved in on her, kissing her like they were moments ago yet with more fervor. Samus giggled under his touch when his beard tickled her nose and Snake swore that he had never heard of a more beautiful sound.

"I love you too, Samus," he finally told her.

They didn't notice when or how their kisses began heating up. Samus could feel his tongue begging for entry and she conceded, her hands exploring his muscular back. Snake began to slide off her garb, suggestively commenting that she should wear cocktail dresses more often. Samus retorted that he should wear Armani suits more often, pulling down his slacks.

Minutes had seemed to have passed when an early bird groggily made his way down the halls to brew some Arabica a friend bought for him the other day. Olimar almost dropped his porcelain when he heard moaning and heavy breathing from Samus Aran's room—surely, he could make out that there were two distinct voices and they didn't sound like they were training.

He furiously banged the door. "Hey! Bloody hell—keep your hanky-pankying down or you both'll wake the children."

…

People tend to tell the truth when they're drunk, do they not? What can I say? I'm a sucker for Zelink and Snakus shit. It was just their moment. Moreover, the next chapter entails the aftermath of all that drinking and partying! Hooray for (what we all love) hangovers!