Aftermath

Author Note: Metal Gear Solid Slash Fiction. Contained Sex, Violence and Swearing. Be forewarned.

Disclaimer: Any recognizeable Characters mentioned in this story belonged to their respective owners.
Feedback: Yes, please. Author can be reached at zuraffo@yahoo.com
Archive: My honor. Just let me know.

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“Breathe.”

Solid Snake commanded himself. Sweat forming on his forehead was absorbed by his bandana, yet some trickled from his temples down his stubbled jaws and formed a spot of wetness beneath his chin. His breath came in short, gasping interval as he tried to steady his nerves.

He could still hear the cracking of snapping necks, the gargling of throats trying to catch their last breath, the muffled shrieks beneath his gloved hands when throats were slit opened, the sounds of blood rushing out from arteries. His body still tingled with the sensation of a dying body jerking against it. He knew he would be haunted by these sounds and sensations in days to come, when he would try to drown everything out with booze, until the next mission.

People assumed soldiers like them would eventually get used to killing. Snake found it amusing that these people, who had not taken a life with their own hands in their whole life, would presume to know anything about getting used to killing. If getting used involved being indifferent about killing, then nobody could claim to get used to killing. Snake would know. It took effort to fight the aftermath: the nightmares that ensued, the feelings of surreal that permeated everyday life.

That’s something Octacon, as much as he was a true friend, could never begin to understand, much less share, and that’s something Raiden would have to learn to deal with…

As Snake’s thought swayed to the newly acquainted agent, he was suddenly alerted by his non-presence. He swung about and saw Raiden kneeling among the dead bodies, a blank look on his face. Snake knew that look. That’s how he looked like after Shadow Moses for a long time. Upon closer inspection, he noticed the bullet hole on Raiden’s thigh, as blood gushed down the slashed materials.

Snake cursed silently under his breath, went over and pulled Raiden up with an arm circling his lithe waist. Raiden turned slowly and looked at him. A few blink later, he tried to struggle.

“Snake, I am fine…” Raiden tried, but the words came out strangled and small. And frightened, perhaps.

“No, you are not. Just shut up and we’ll go somewhere and take care that wound of yours.”

Snake felt his crotch tightened at the heat of Raiden’s body leaning against his, but he tried to ignore it. The horniness was one of the results of battle frenzy, and he had no intention to create another Octagon. Even though Octagon consented to the sex, even welcomed it, it felt wrong somehow. Snake knew how Octagon felt about him, and he felt like he was exploiting Octagon’s feeling for the sex, since he could not reciprocate the feeling. He only gave in because he would have gone insane otherwise.

Snake got him and Raiden to a relatively safe area. Looks like some kind of secluded storeroom. He put Raiden down and cut open the material with his Rambo Knife in swift motion, trying hard to ignore the smooth and hard muscles beneath his hands. As he had suspected, the bullet missed the arteries, so it wasn’t major, but the bloody mess made it looked worse than it really was. He bound the wound as best he could, all the while uncomfortably aware of the growing sexual tension between them.

When he looked up after he was done with the bandages, he bit back a curse meeting Raiden’s misty gaze. Behind those lost, empty eyes were fear, desperation, and raw, rampant desires.

Raiden grabbed Snake’s hands and whispered, “Don’t leave me, just yet.”

“What do you want?” Snake asked with tightened jaws, knowing the answers, yet asked nonetheless.

Snake felt a hand grabbed his crotch roughly and heard Raiden pleaded, “I need this, please.”

There was a tinge of insanity in Raiden’s eyes as he put a strong arm around Snake’s neck and pulled him into a ferocious kiss, a kiss with viciousness of a dying beast, like Raiden was trying to suck life out of Snake.

A muffled “fuck” escaped Snake’s ravaged lips as he gave in to his own lust and started to take off his battle suits. Their clung to each other tightly even when they tried to remove the materials between them, and a strong, pleasant sensation overwhelm them and washed out other feelings while their toned, hardened bodies met in their fully naked glory.

Raiden moaned lightly as he squeezed Snake tightly, ignoring all the bruises and cuts, his well-defined biceps bulging and straining with the effort. He hooked his muscled legs around Snake’s strong waists, and drowned himself in the sensations of their stiffened privates rubbing against each other’s.

Two bodies trained to kill move against each other with a roughness and callousness that had finally found their match. Hands that had gotten used to the weight of weapons now handled flesh that could withstand the intensity without holding back.

As they indulge themselves in the strong lustful sensations, even the lingering smells of blood and metal took on an amorous taste of sex that made them forget the horrors that had attached to these smells for a little while, at least long enough to bring their sanity back.

Afterwards, Raiden and Snake lay spent side-by-side, traces of their sex smeared on the floor, their bodies, and their discarded suits. They were exhausted after coming 3 to 4 times each; Raiden in Snake, Snake in Raiden, it didn’t really matter. What’s important was to feel another warm, living body against them, to ward off the dreadful coldness of death.

Snake looked at the bandage on Raiden’s thigh which was messed up during their romp and chuckled throatily.

“We’ll have to rebind that bandage.” He muttered softly.

“Fuck it, it ain’t going nowhere.” Raiden retorted tiredly.

“Gosh, I feel like taking a nap right here.”

“Are we in the clear yet?”

Octagon chose this moment to interject, the schooled calmness in his voice a pain did not betray.

“This side of the facility is cleared as far as I can tell. You have about 1 hour and a half before the other side check-in and realize something is going wrong. You can take a break now; I’ll wake you if necessary. Octagon out.”

He broke off from the codec before Snake could respond.

“Yeah, we are in the clear. Let’s sleep some.” Snake said groggily as he pulled Raiden up against his chest and spooned against the other soldier.

It wouldn’t be long before they collapsed into an exhausted, numbed and dreamless slumber; a rare moment of peace and healing before the next bout of killings begins.

Octagon scanned the area one last time before taking off his codec set, leaning heavily back into the high-back couch. A bitter grimace played on his lips as he took off his glasses. Perhaps that was for the best. That was the closest thing to love Snake had expressed to another person in a long time, had Snake still able to love. Witnessing the whole event, Octagon finally started to realize there existed a connection, a bond between soldiers that no civilian would likely understand.

And the worst part was, as Octagon realized as he shook his head in dejection and pain, it wasn’t all about the sex.

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