Since people are still interested in my fics over here and FFN has fixed a couple (but not near all) of the issues it's been having, I'll start posting my stories here again. This is really against my better judgment and if they screw up so that dashes disappear or the ads somehow get more annoying, then I'm not coming back. It's bad enough they still don't allow tildies for no apparent reason.
I'm posting this in chapter one of all my stories so everyone knows where I can be found. See my profile for the link to my homepage.
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THIS IS A SEQUEL AND IT'S BEEN REWRITEN!
The inspiration for this monster can be found here:
community (dot) livejournal (dot) com/mgs_slash/219396 (dot) html
For those of you who were with me before, I've redone the chapters since I was kind of out of it on prescriptions I didn't need when I wrote them. You don't have to read 1-5 again since it was mostly technical changes and streamlining, but 6 has changed drastically.
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David cracked the seal, lifted the whiskey bottle to his lips, and took a few burning gulps before throwing the glass into an open dumpster. The alcoholic in him mourned the loss of the cheap booze, but the rest of him knew it wouldn't help.
Every woman he'd seen was just another reminder of who he didn't have.
He made his way back to the apartment with a step much steadier than he usually had. He took his time, knowing that Hal set Saturday nights aside for something that left him blushing for half of Sunday morning.
Probably watching some gay anime porn... but that's just wishful thinking on my part, isn't it? Hmph... it's not like it matters.
He turned down a street that would take him another few minutes out of the way.
He has to know where I go every weekend. What I'm doing. He deserves better.
David's mind drifted to imaginings of the two of them lying entwined, tasting that pale skin, gently stroking the other's hair as they drifted off to sleep. It was hard to tell whether the images of passion or those of tenderness were doing the most damage. Either way, he'd fallen hard. And if this failure of a Saturday was any indication, he wasn't getting up any time soon. In more ways than one.
He reached their building, the fifth tiny apartment in four months. Deciding that he didn't want to face the possibility of running into Hal when the whiskey was just kicking in, David scaled the crumbling brick and climbed onto the fire escape. When he got to their floor he pulled out his Lucky Strikes and lit one off.
He deserves better than me, than this life... He paid his penance a long time ago; he shouldn't have to spend three weeks in one spot before uprooting and moving on to the next mission. Hell, I'm trained for it and it's wearing on me.
He ran his hand through his hair and took another drag.
Hmm... wonder what happened to that damn bandana...
----------
Hal settled in against his pillows, worrying his lower lip between his teeth and flushing dark with embarrassment. On this particular Saturday he wound the strip of blue cloth around his fingers and wrist, guiltily relishing the feel of the worn-soft fabric against his skin. His other hand was pressed against his stomach, unmoving, as he tried to pretend that the pale fingers with too few calluses could ever be his.
Maybe after a hard mission, he thought, one where our cover was blown just enough that he couldn't go out and find a ride. He'd have that look in his eye, that... uhn, that feral look in his eyes and he'd have to work of the... frustration... somehow...
Even without saying it aloud, the reasoning sounded incredibly weak. Not to mention the sad fact that even in his fantasies he could never imagine David wanting him for the sake of wanting. It would have to be desperation, a matter of having no other options...
He pushed back the reasons and focused on the details. He wanted to think of David as a gentle lover, probably the side effect of too much sugary fanfiction, but he knew better. It wouldn't be like that, and images of tenderness wouldn't be enough tonight. Not while he was laying on his back breathing in the traces of his best friend's scent still clinging to the bandana, trying to pretend the fragile hand creeping across his hip was a soldier's hand.
Rough... god, he'd be rough.
Hal's fingers moved, curling around the opposite hip with as much force as the angle allowed.
The next morning I'd have bruises shaped like his hands on my hips. Bruises on my wrists and shoulders from where he'd pin me down.
He pressed the heel of his palm into his slowly hardening member, just a little harder than necessary. He gasped at the pain filled pleasure.
Pin me to keep me from thrashing when he touches me... I'm so pathetic. He'll say something, something that borders insulting and playful and then hold me down. So easy, it'd be so easy for him. I wouldn't be able to get away... oooh...
Sharp, harsh rubs against the fabric of his underwear and pajama pants. Hal longed for the texture of skin on skin, but he knew it wouldn't be like that. David would tease him first.
Torment me with light touches, not letting me get to his skin. He'll have to pin me down to keep me from grabbing at his clothes. He'll growl and kiss me hard and probably slap my thigh and...
Hal lost track of the specifics as he slid his hand under the waistband. His fantasy lost coherency and dissolved into a swirl of erotic imaginings.
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David sighed almost-contently as he took another drag. The cigarette took the edge off in a way alcohol never could.
My second favorite addiction, he thought with a touch of self depreciating humor as he flicked the ashes away. Trumped only by a scrawny 'otaku' who won't get out of my head.
It was a quiet night with a steady breeze winding through the buildings. Leaning against the railing with a cigarette in his mouth, he found it a little easier to think about what Hal would be like. A little less painful.
Quiet. He'll be quiet... and what noises he does make he'll try to bite back. I'll have to coax it out of him. Mmmm...hot little whimpers leading on to hotter whispers, asking me for more, and I'd never be able to tell him no.
He knew he was going to fantasize himself into a cold shower and he decided he didn't care. It should happen one time when he wasn't drunk and pounding some slut into a brick wall.
I'll get all our buttons and zippers undone while I'm kissing him. I won't be able to last long without getting to his skin. Pull off his shirt first, kissing his throat and finding all the tender spots. I'd have to be careful not to bite him or suck too hard; pale skin marks easily and he wouldn't like the attention that comes with a dozen red marks all over his neck. Lower down...
He allowed himself a devious grin.
Lower down I might get away with it. Tease him a little while I'm working his cock out of those damn tight boxer briefs by nipping at some patch of skin just above the line of hair. Work at the bruise until he can't take it anymore and he begs me... and there'll be the perfect mix of a sigh and a gasp when I start sucking him off.
Dave shook his head and ground out what was left of his cigarette on the railing. He needed to get inside soon before the hardness between his legs became impossible to conceal; knowing his luck he'd run into the man who inadvertently caused it before he could get to that cold shower.
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-a slick finger tracing a wet trail down my spine before-
-biting my shoulder and marking me as his for anyone to-
-throwing the shower curtain back and pinning me against-
-reaching down and rubbing me hard while he whispers sexy-
Snippets of what could never be flew though Hal's mind as his fingers danced over stiff, hot flesh. His other hand remained pressed to his mouth, partially to muffle his cries, but mostly to have that piece of Dave closer to him. He was lasting longer this night, building up slowly and almost forgetting that he was the only one in the room. But not quite.
-threading his fingers in my hair when I go down on-
-grinning as he kisses the red spot on my hip that he-
-stretching me roughly while he pumps his length with-
-holding me face down on the bed so he can push into-
The strokes came faster and so did the images, blurring into an overwhelming sense of hard muscles and green eyes, the sound of a rough voice growling rough words, the taste of him that could only be something intoxicating. It was more intense than it had ever been, and nothing was going to bring him out of it until he came, not the empty room or the worn cloth or the cool breeze running over his sweat slick skin.
-pin my wrists above my head when he says that-
-getting me relaxed by blowing in my ear so he can-
-a slow shudder when I slowly push myself down on-
-biting the pillow when he pounds me so hard I won't be-
Hal arched into his too smooth hand, threw his head back, and moaned.
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Dave turned back to the building to pick the lock on his window and skip the front door... stopping when he remembered that he and Hal had switched rooms so the programmer could hijack wireless. The soldier glared at the long pane of glass that was more of a door than a window, designed for easy access to the fire escape. Also an incredible security risk, which is why he claimed the room in the first place. When Hal found out that the exposed room got a far better signal than the secure one, the argument was long and bitter. The programmer just couldn't see why Dave wanted him in a bedroom with a tiny window, didn't understand that all it would take was some crazy guy with a brick, or worse, Ocelot and-
David's blood froze when he heard an indistinct noise coming from the window. On closer inspection he saw that it was open a crack. It could be as simple as Hal forgetting to close it all they way, but the programmer was also a softer target than a battle hardened bastard...
He snapped into soldier-mode, Snake-mode, and objectively assessed the possibilities even as the part of him that was still Dave worried enough to be physically sick.
Snake inched towards the open window, sliding around so his back was against the brick wall of the building. He clenched his fists tight and silently promised whoever might be hurting his Otacon a painful and bloody death, even as he moved his ear close to the crack and listened for-
A low, pleased hum.
His eyes went wide.
A strangled sound, somewhere between a gasp, moan, and possibly someone's name.
The soldier side fell away, detachedly amused that this was what Hal did on Saturday nights. But then that cool, objective voice was gone, and Dave was left with nothing but shock and a deep throbbing that got worse every time Hal made a sound.
He's close... oh god, he's close.
His legs stopped working and he only barely managed to remain upright against the wall, grabbing the rail for support. His whole body was trembling and he'd only heard his partner moan. What would happen if he saw...
Dave gulped, knowing he shouldn't but he did anyway, leaning around just enough to see inside the room. No curtains to disrupt his view, possibly enough light from the street...
The solider had to bite back a moan of his own at what he saw. There were enough silvery moonbeams to highlight the important details. The splay of his fingers against the skin of his abdomen. The curve of his back when he arched off the bed. His lower lip caught between his teeth when he threw his head to the side.
Panting for breath and wondering if he'd ever been this hard, David slammed back into the wall. He couldn't even try to calm down, quell the sudden rush of desire and get inside before he did something stupid. He didn't even have the presence of mind to reach down and ease the unbearable heat between his legs. He just stood there, eyes closed and body trembling, as his mind ran away with the incredible image of Hal in the throes of passion.
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A few years ago it wouldn't have mattered. He would have just kept going and forget about it completely by the time he was... through. A few years ago it wouldn't have even registered.
But it was after Shadow Moses, after Big Shell, after he'd come face to face with cold, hard reality. So when he heard the slight clatter of a cheap window being knocked into the frame, he froze. He withdrew his hands, wiping the one off on the sheets with a certain measure of embarrassment, the adrenaline giving him the focus to ignore the pressure that was not dissipating in spite of the danger.
He wished Dave was there as he got up off his bed, wished his soldier was with him as he reached for the drawer with the M9 in it.
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I need to get out of here. If I hear him moan again... damnit, legs, move! He's going to catch me, he's going to see me standing here shaking and see how much spying on him turned me on, he's going to know and then I won't be able to get close to him at the table, sitting on the couch, he'll know what I'm doing when I brush up against him, rub his shoulders when hacking makes him tense, won't hear that carefree laugh because he'll be thinking that I want something from him and I do want something from him but I know he can't give it and I need to get out of here now, I need to-
Before he even realized what was happening Snake reached out and grabbed the wrist that came thrusting out of the window. Still running on pure reflex, the soldier was inside the apartment within a second, slamming the window shut and locking it with one hand while griping his partner's arm with the other. His mind caught up with his body and he realized how easy it was for him to get in, how stupid the hacker was for thinking he could do anything with an M9, how he could have been out banging some brainless fuck into an alley wall and someone could have come and taken Hal from him, his Hal, the man he was supposed to protect because he loved him and he couldn't even get that part of it right.
His eyes were blazing when he looked up at Hal.
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Everything spun out of control so quickly.
With the singular thought of protecting his computers and the data they contained, the things that he used to keep David safe, he'd grabbed the gun and flung open the window, hoping to take the intruder by surprise just long enough to get a dart in. Instead he was grabbed and drug back inside the room as if he was nothing, the overwhelming power of having a mission falling away to be replaced with heart-stopping fear.
What if the viral traps spring too late and they get to the data before the hard drives can fry themselves? What will they do with the information about Philanthropy? What will they do to me- Oh god, I won't be able to stand up under torture the way Snake can, all the things that aren't in the drives are in my head and they'll have them unless they accidentally kill me first. Will... will I have it in me to kill myself before they get too much? What... what about Snake? Will MeiLing be able to pick up where I left off? Will he miss me? Will he find me hours from now, broken and bloody and god knows what-
His thoughts were roughly jarred into silence as he was slammed against the wall. He tried to bring the M9 up, to get some piece of his attacker, but he was easily disarmed, the gun thrown against the wall so hard that it discharged. Hal stared, with a sort of detached fascination, at the shadows where he thought the dart stuck. He was dealing with being captured by not dealing and he knew it, but he couldn't bring himself to care.
He took a deep breath to keep himself from panicking for as long as possible, and then he blinked when he took in the scent of whiskey and smoke and sweat and something else that just couldn't belong to anyone else.
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Dave slammed Hal into the wall far harder than he intended to, but he was running on pure rage. He was angry at his partner for blatantly throwing the window open, sure, but he was mostly pissed at himself for letting Hal stay in an unsecured room, for leaving him all alone for a cheap, meaningless thrill once a week with such regularity that it wouldn't take the damn Patriots to figure it out. He was supposed to protect Hal and he'd just abandoned him every Saturday as though he was nothing.
He knew he was mad at himself. That didn't keep him from snarling wordlessly at the man he had pressed against the wall by the window, both slender wrists clenched in his powerful hands, one pinned to the wall by the hacker's head and the other against a heaving chest. Hal was scared, he could smell it, but the part of his brain dedicated to logic was lost among the adrenaline.
"... Dave?"
It was so soft he barely even heard it above the sound of his own ragged breathing, whispered uncertainly in that way that sounded like he was crying even if he wasn't. He hadn't heard that particular tone since Shadow Moses, and he hated that he was the one making Hal sound like that.
But he still couldn't make himself stop.
Even though there was no way the hacker could ever break free of the grip David had on his wrists, the soldier pulled back and slammed him into the wall, pressing even harder. Hal didn't struggle, he just stared into the darkness with wide open eyes, likely unable to see David's face clearly due to the angle of the light. David could see his partner's expression, full of shock and shame and far, far too much fear.
He started yelling. He did it because he was worried about his partner, and he never wanted him to take such a stupid risk again, but the words came out biting and cruel. He did it because he hated that he was worthy of the fear written plainly in those gray eyes. All he wanted to do was hold Hal in his arms properly, kiss him breathless and beg him not to put himself in such danger again...
And that's why he yelled. Because if he ever stopped he knew he'd do something he wouldn't be able to take back. The part of him still holding on to reason knew that he wouldn't be able to take this back either, but the rest of him was too... too scared to admit how much he cared about his partner. Too scared to handle the inevitable rejection.
So he yelled.
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Hal closed his eyes when David started. He couldn't make out Dave's face anyway, but it was mostly because all the strength he'd found in himself after Shadow Moses just melted away. He was even less a man that the one who cowered in a locker as the two titans did battle outside. He couldn't block out the words, harsh and biting but oh so true, reminding him how foolish he was, how stupid it was to think that he could ever be strong if he didn't have Dave's support...
And worst of all...
He gritted his teeth as he tried to fight down his arousal. It had halfway gone in the face of the terror he felt at being tortured, but with Dave so close it was coming back with a vengeance.
Oh god I can smell him, I can feel all the muscles in his arms... Hal had to fight down a hysterical giggle, I was right, he's leaving bruises on my wrists. For the next week I can pretend like the pathetic, miserable weakling that I am. David accentuated a particular point by rattling him against the wall and Hal had to bite back a moan. Why am I such a masochist, especially with him? I love him so much, but if this is any clue then he still thinks of me as useful baggage.
It was getting hard to breathe.
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Hal stopped being a passive player and started to visibly wince, flinch away with his entire body at the more biting comments. David struggled with himself but the floodgates were already open.
"Haven't you heard anything I've told you? You're no good to me dead!"
I could never do this without you, Hal. I need you, professionally and...
"Anyone could have come in that open window and done whatever they wanted to you!"
And I would have been out getting drunk, having a fuck that doesn't even leave me satisfied.
"Don't. You. Ever do something that stupid again."
Never put yourself at risk like that, please don't. It's my job to get hurt, not yours.
"What were you thinking, Otacon!?"
I should have been here for you. I could never deserve you.
"I've never s-"
A warm wetness fell on his hand and the tirade crashed into dust.
The programmer violently jerked his face around, catching his glasses on the wall and they slipped off his nose. The gnawing feeling in David's gut increased tenfold when he realized that the silver glimmers of light hadn't come from the metal frames, but from the hot tears that were streaming down his partner's face.
I... I made him...
Hal was shaking, he was gasping, and he was crying. Those eyes, the kind eyes that haunted the soldier's dreams opened when the shouting stopped, full of the fear and the pain that he caused to the man he cared about more than anything. Those eyes went wide before clenching shut again. The sobs started.
He'd done a lot of things in his lifetime as a soldier that he wasn't proud of. But there, that moment, feeling the tremors run through his partner as the hot tears rained down on his arms... David never felt lower.
"D-Dave, please..." came the shuddering whisper, "please don't be mad! I was just t-trying to, I mean, I heard you and I h-had to protect the d-d-data a-and," a pained intake of breath, "I was j-just trying to b-be helpful a-a-and I j-just can't g-get any b-b-better a-and I-I'm so s-s-sorry..."
I have to fix this, David thought frantically. He released Hal's wrists but the other man just cried harder and grabbed two fistfuls of the soldier's shirt. Dave realized that Hal thought he was walking out on the argument but he couldn't leave it like this, so he reached up and took his partner's face in calloused hands, trying to wipe the tears away, to get Hal to look at him so he could apologize, take it all back even though he knew there was no way to take it back...
When the hacker finally raised his head and opened his eyes, David's heart stopped. Without thinking, he started to lean down. His logical side wondered if he was ever going to learn how to use his head.
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Hal's sobs died in his throat when he saw how David was looking at him. He was... aware of the other man before, but somehow his senses doubled. He could taste every breath, still tinged with alcohol and smoke, and he wondered how many kisses it would take to clear those flavors out, replace them with the taste of his own mouth...
David was leaning down. And his hands were still cupping the hacker's face. It could have been... Hal didn't know what it could have been, but it wasn't because the soldier's gaze was focused solely on his lips. And he was leaning down, and Hal couldn't breathe, and suddenly his arousal seemed all the more-
David stopped.
For an instant that stretched to eternity, Hal stood there pressed to the wall with his partner's hands on his face, standing so close he could feel the incredible heat radiating off the larger man. The scent he'd long since memorized filled his senses. And that look was there, the one that Hal knew meant he was frustrated. And not just irritated or angry, but frustrated. And he started to lean closer. And he was looking at Hal's lips.
Logic tried to take over before time started back up again. Hal told it to go to hell.
Before Dave had the chance to pull any farther away, Hal grabbed him by the hair and crushed their lips together.