Chapter Text
Hums of mellow tunes and muffled sounds of asphalt being driven over was filling the silence that settled in between the two of them. Snake gazed out the windshield, and his keen eyes took in the sight of the vast darkness that’d boundlessly stretched out. The shadows out and around the vehicle seemed to have swallowed up everything in sight, but he found himself appreciating the stillness of it all. It was better than the swarming streets and active nightlife they’d drive by.
The stars adorned the night sky, and his eyes curiously began tracing the subtle patterns that seemed to string the heavenly bodies together. He wondered if he was eyeing Ursa or Canis Major. He wasn’t sure; he only remembered Otacon eagerly identifying and enlightening him on the constellations one night. Since then, he’d been subconsciously musing over the subject.
He tore his gaze away from the windshield, resting his back against the padding of the car seat, and his head against the headrest. His mind continuously replayed the mission they’d recently undergone for Philanthropy — the objective was to retrieve a certain external hard drive, presumably for Otacon and his research, maybe on Metal Gears that were facing development. Snake didn’t focus too hard on the details. He retrieved it, and that’s all that mattered to him.
All of the gear and equipment were thrown into the back of the vehicle, and they’d often clash against each other, resulting in a disconcerting clatter. He glanced over his shoulder, his eyes narrowing as he observed all of the wires tangling against each other. It reflected pure chaos.
“That’s gonna take a while to unload.” Snake gestured to the back before he looked at Otacon, who was concentrating and keeping his eyes on the road.
A sigh escaped Otacon as he already knew what he was mentioning. This wasn’t the first time they’d talked about the post-mission messes. They both had penchants for forgetting about orderliness whenever their missions came down to the wire.
“It is,” he then agreed. “That’s why you’re going to help me, right?”
Snake nodded. “Yeah, yeah. I always do.”
“Thanks in advance,” he thanked him with a faint smile.
“Sure.” He looked away when he saw his smile. “We both know you’ll leave me doing all of the lifting anyway.”
“Huh? That’s not true.”
He couldn’t help but simper. “It is. You know it is.”
“Well, you don’t complain. In fact, you seem pretty eager to help…” Otacon trailed off.
“Hm.” Snake realized he wasn’t wrong.
A still silence went on, and Snake glanced over at him, observing how concentrated he was. His skilled hands firmly gripped the steering wheel, and he handled the stick shift with a practiced ease. He always seemed so sure of himself, and Snake was drawn to that air he carried.
Snake had recently been finding himself to be more interested in Otacon, and it was an odd acknowledgment. The man was special, and he thought a lot of things were endearing about him. If he were honest to himself, he’d admit he’d been feeling that way since they’ve established Philanthropy and began living together — that had to be two years ago. But he felt as if it wasn’t a simple way of interest, and that realization made feelings of conflict linger. He knew there was more simmering beneath, but that thought struck him with immense discomfort. He had to remember that he couldn’t get ideas like those mixed in his head.
“How much longer?” questioned Snake, wanting to distract himself.
“Patience, Dave. It’s just a little longer.”
“Right.” He glanced out his side of the window.
“Remember, the house is in the more remote part of the city.”
“I’m aware,” Snake mumbled.
They both refocused their attention elsewhere, tuning other distractions and whirling thoughts out for the rest of the ride. Snake went back to connecting the stars and guessing the constellations, only because of Otacon’s past information dumps, while the other aimed to get them back to the safehouse without a wreck.
Otacon eventually pulled the vehicle into the front of their safehouse — an unassuming and inconspicuous house tucked away into the far corner of the primarily bustling and swarming streets of New York City. The entrance was poorly lit and shrouded by various towering trees, and it made for an ideal haven for the two of them.
Snake had been resting in the passenger’s seat, attempting to relax his weary body and mind. As the adrenaline was washed away, fatigue lingered and it took a toll on him, but despite it all, he lifted his head up upon seeing the familiar front and path of their safehouse. He glanced around with a somewhat furrowed expression.
“That ride took a while.” Snake lazily unbuckled his seatbelt.
“Sorry about that.” Otacon pulled the key out of the ignition, tucking it into his pocket.
“Don’t apologize.” He sat up, glancing over his shoulder and staring back at the equipment that was stacked behind them — a small feeling of dread came over him.
Otacon caught onto where he was staring, and he followed his line of sight, his gaze landing on all of the technology, wires and bags that were sprawled out. He, too, experienced his own apprehension towards having to do extra work.
“Right,” he acknowledged the mess. “We’ll have to get started on that…”
“Yeah. Come on.” Snake exited the vehicle, standing up and stretching for a brief moment. He could feel a few aches coming on, and he knew he’d be feeling unwell for the next few days.
Otacon followed suit, and they both opened up the doors to the vehicle on either side, gathering their own pieces of equipment, but not with a bit of trouble. The lengthy cables and wires constantly tangled into a perplexing mass, causing the two of them to clumsily detangle all of it together before they could bring all of it into the house.
After a period of time, it came down to a single item left—a fairly short and stubby antenna. Coincidentally, the two of them had reached for it, causing their hands to ultimately brush against each other. Snake froze for a moment, and he glanced at Otacon, who quickly stepped back out of what appeared to be embarrassment.
“Oh, uh, sorry.” Otacon sighed, nudging his glasses.
Snake shook his head. “It’s alright.” He suddenly held out the antenna for him to take.
As expected, Otacon took a few steps towards the car and leaned over to grab and accept the antenna. For some reason, he gazed at him with a somewhat confused expression.
Snake held back a chuckle at his confusion, instead keeping his typically reserved exterior.
“Take it inside. I’ll be out here for a little longer.” He gestured towards the house with a subtle jerk of his head.
“Sure.” He shut the vehicle’s door and headed towards the entrance, but not without looking back. “Don’t take too long, okay?”
“Yeah. I got it. Just get inside—it’s freezing.” Snake eventually shut the door of the car as well, tailing slightly behind the other.
“Not gonna smoke, are you?” Otacon reached the front door of the safehouse, turning to eye him expectantly.
“Not your concern,” Snake grumbled, lightly nudging him to get inside.
The other cracked an amused smile before he finally complied and entered the house, leaving Snake to be solo for the time being. He was alone, a weary sigh escaped him and to no one’s surprise, he reached into one of the pouches of his sneaking suit, and pulled out a cigarette, placing it between his lips as he patted himself down for a lighter.
Once he’d gotten to his lighter, he ignited it with a simple flick, providing fire to the tip of the snout. He slipped it back into one of his pouches and took a drag from the cigarette, blowing smoke downwards as the cool and bitter air nipped at the tip of his ears and nose.
While he proceeded to indulge in his vice, his thoughts kept drifting back to the way his hand accidentally brushed against Otacon’s back at the car. That was odd, he couldn’t deny it, but it also provided him with a bit of warmth whenever he thought about it. Now he felt as if he were confusing himself even more, and it began to rouse feelings of frustration.
He took a few more drags, and his whirlwind of thoughts only worsened. With an irritated grumble, he flicked the cigarette onto the ground and crushed it with his boot, watching the previously hearty stick disintegrate into nothing more but ash.
He turned away and headed towards the door of the safehouse as he realized smoking wasn’t helping, soon opening up the door and stepping inside. Out of habit, he secured the numerous locks installed on the door with ease.
“I’m back,” he announced, his eyes searching for Otacon until he eventually saw him.
Otacon was dragging a few bags into the living area, grouping them all by a desk that’d been situated in the living area. He looked to be exhausted, which wasn’t a surprise, considering he was never really one for physical labor.
“Oh, welcome back—thought you would’ve taken longer.” He noticed Snake had returned, causing him to pause in his task for a small break. But before he could continue, the other had swooped in and effortlessly handled the rest of the hefty bags that he was struggling with.
“Was going to. Just didn’t feel like it.” Snake brushed off his oddly helpful act, watching as Otacon appeared to be perplexed by the sudden assist he didn’t ask for.
“Dave, I could’ve handled those bags, you know,” Otacon pointed out, remembering just how often Snake had been insistently assisting him on tasks. It wasn’t particularly usual, but it wasn’t unwelcome. Still, he wanted to mention it.
“You don’t like lifting heavier items. It hurts your shoulder joints and wrists,” he countered.
“I’m surprised you remember that,” Otacon trailed off, taken aback by his attentiveness.
Snake tapped his temple. “Photographic memory.”
“Right, I forgot.” He rubbed the back of his neck, silence passing between them for a moment. His eyes skimmed over Snake’s form, and he could tell he held exhaustion. Not to mention, he smelt of the acrid and stinging scent of cigarettes.
“I’m gonna have a shower,” Snake announced, running his hand through his hair. He had a feeling Otacon was practically begging for him to go and take one; he always had that look.
Otacon nodded. “I’ll have one too.” He then gave Snake a once-over. “Need help out of that?”
Snake glanced down at himself, keenly aware of how he was still in his sneaking suit. Otacon routinely helped him in and out of the suit, and it wasn’t a big deal. But in the moment, the idea was even more appealing in a way. Of course, he pushed those thoughts away.
“Yeah, just do it quickly.” He took a few steps closer to him.
Expectedly, Otacon approached and briefly eyed him, his sharp eyes reflexively gliding across Snake’s form, understanding just how tedious the removal would be with all of the harnesses across his chest and down his thighs. He eventually loosened the straps, and undid the lacing of what he personally called a ‘corset’ in the back. Despite the amount of times they’ve gone through this together, he always inwardly hoped Snake wasn’t uncomfortable with it all. Little did he know, it was quite the opposite.
Snake could feel Otacon’s fingers brush against him at times, and it never ceased to catch his attention. He saw just how much of a picnic it was to the other — that made him feel moronic. Perhaps he was experiencing unnecessary feelings for no reason. After a bit, Snake shed the suit and Otacon draped it on a chair, a sigh escaping him as the tedious activity was finished. Of course, the other was nearly bare, but they’d grown comfortable enough with each other to not mind it too much.
“Off you go.” Otacon flashed Snake an amused smile.
“Off I go,” Snake repeated, following his prior action and draping his bandana over his sneaking suit that’d already been placed over the chair. Without any hesitation, he headed down the hallway to head into his own bathroom.
“Hey, and don’t take too long,” Otacon reminded, watching as Snake walked into the bathroom with an unamused expression. Once the door had been closed with a faint click, he headed into his own lavatory, treating himself to care he figured was well-deserved.
Otacon had finished a little earlier than Snake and emerged from his own restroom, strolling into their living space. The cool air brushed against his warm skin, and it was a pleasant contrast. To bask in the afterglow of their successful mission — that was an immense relief.
The safehouse was dimly lit and furnished fairly well, though it was evident it was presumably older. There were various washed out tones of reds, browns and greens, and the flooring set in the home were mildly scratched up wooden tiles in darker shades of brown. In the living room, there was a desk on the right side that was lined up on the edge of the rug beneath it, and it kept all of their equipment and folders. That desk, just like the flooring, was roughened up, and somewhat discolored, but that wasn’t something they had concern for.
There was also a wooden board that stood upright — plenty of notes, photographs and strings connecting the information to pinpoint important details regarding their missions and their progression. It was a typical evidence board, and Snake always found it to be somewhat silly. He was convinced Otacon was merely trying to live out some sort of detective vision, but he had to admit, it did help to have a visual. It took more work formulating a framework in his own head.
He glanced around, and he spotted how their bags were laying around, as well as how his desk and overall setup seemed rather disorganized. Wires and papers were sprawled out, and the external hard drive Snake had retrieved managed to blend in with his various other storage devices on the desk. A good chunk of the house was in disarray and it was all becoming painful to take in.
“What a mess,” he mumbled to himself,
He took a few steps closer to his desk, his expression twisting into one of genuine confusion. He realized they may have needed to start a cleanup around the house sometime soon — maybe even now. With a sigh, he got started on reorganizing his desk as he waited for the other to finish up.
After a while of cleaning, he heard a sudden click and creak of the door. Of course, it had to be Snake. Naturally, he looked up from his task and noticed him coming through from the hallway. He seemed to have been refreshed, which was comforting to see.
His eyes scanned up and down Snake’s form, noticing how he’d clad himself in a simple tank top and sweatpants, though the top seemed to have complimented that solid torso of his. He caught onto the sheen of moisture on his arms, and the way his tank top clung to his still mildly damp form — it greatly accentuated his structure, and Otacon’s gut stirred strangely at the sight. He had no idea why he was being attentive to his appearance of all things in the moment. That wasn’t exactly usual of him, but he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been having any intent observations about the other lately.
“Nice cleaning.” Snake approached him, noticing how the other had finally tidied up that cluttered desk he somehow worked with.
His thought train suddenly came to a halt as Snake’s voice interrupted the quietude.
“Huh—? Oh, thanks. We really should keep things cleaner around here.” Otacon motioned to the moderately cleared desk.
“Mm, yeah. We should.” Snake then took a seat on the couch, leaning back against the cushions as he sought for comfort. In a languid manner, he stretched out his arms, feeling as if his muscles were aching in an intense protest.
The other then eyed him skeptically, not buying the apparent agreement between them. He could tell Snake was trying to sweep the subject under the rug, and he’d grown tired of his continuous aversion to their cleaning discussions.
“You know, this isn’t the first time we’ve talked about this,” Otacon said, referring to the plenty of times Snake had ‘agreed’ to cleaning — something he never really did around the place.
“Yeah, yeah.” He simply folded his arms across his chest, aiming to highlight his exhaustion.
A tired sigh escaped him. “You’re yet to actually clean,” emphasized Otacon.
“I’m tired. I thought you liked me taking breaks.”
“Sure. Okay.”
“I’ll help out tomorrow.”
“That’s not the first time you’ve said that,” he mumbled.
Snake simply shrugged his words off.
Arguing about it was fairly pointless, so he turned away and continued rearranging his desk, getting rid of the messes that’d been strewn about.
As Otacon was turned away, Snake eyed him for the time being. He observed how he worked so diligently, and how the nerdy male continuously nudged his glasses. The guy was an egghead, but that was one of the main things he’d always appreciated about him. He highly doubted he could manage without him, and that was a recent realization that’d left a lasting impression on him.
But above all, he enjoyed how he’d muse to himself — that was geeky yet endearing in its own strange way, and he found that a smile was twitching the corners of his lips at the thought. Of course, he stopped as soon as he caught onto his own action.
Out of the blue, he grew hyper aware of the dull ache that’d been bothering him at his shoulders and back. He couldn’t alleviate it himself. That probably wouldn’t feel as nice.
“Hal,” Snake suddenly called out.
Otacon, who was previously focused on continuing the cleaning of his cluttered workspace, was now caught off guard by the interruption.
“Huh? What is it?” He turned around, and his eyes fell on a leisurely yet expectant Snake.
“My back and shoulders are killing me.” He gestured for him to come over.
The gesture and announcement caused Otacon’s brow to quirk, but he approached him nonetheless.
“Right. Are you asking for a massage?”
“Yeah, a bit. Take the edge off.”
Snake once again motioned for him to come around the back of the couch.
Otacon wasn’t really expecting such a request from Snake, considering he rarely sought help from others, let alone anything physical. He wondered what changed. Maybe he was overthinking his actions like he always found himself doing. Despite himself, he complied and went around the couch, feeling his heart rate quicken. He had no idea if this sort of reaction was normal, but the notion of being able to knead at those muscles and feel Snake’s warm skin underneath his palms — that was fueling his suddenly heightened emotions.
Snake then sat up straighter, allowing the other better access to his back. Otacon, of course, came closer and placed his hands on his shoulders, albeit rather reluctantly.
Otacon felt the tense and firm muscles underneath his palms, and he realized just how broad he was. The sight was captivating — Snake was definitely a man of nice structure. His own thoughts had him taken aback, and Snake even caught onto his hesitation; it sparked some annoyance in him. He had a feeling he knew why Otacon was hesitating so much.
“I’ll do it myself if you don’t want to.” Snake nearly moved away from him.
“No—I can do it. Sorry.” Otacon sighed in some embarrassment, and Snake grunted in acknowledgment of his apology.
As anticipated, he got to kneading the tense muscles underneath his palms, aiming to loosen them up and set him at ease. It was clear that Snake found the massage pleasant. His eyes were shut, and he found himself leaning into the other’s touch.
Quietness settled in between them for a moment, and Otacon carried on his work on his shoulders, feeling as if Snake was finally getting reduced of his tension. His demeanor and muscles seemed to have loosened, and he wordlessly carried on with his work.
“Hm. You’re pretty good at this,” Snake remarked.
“Think so? I’ve never actually given anyone a massage,” Otacon returned.
“Yeah. You’ve got nice hands.”
“Oh, thanks.” He felt as if his cheeks slightly warmed up at such an odd compliment.
Snake then scrutinized his work, “Do it harder, Hal. I can take the pressure. I’m not fragile.”
“Harder? I’m already applying a lot of pressure,” he mumbled before complying, applying more pressure as he wished.
“Not enough,” he muttered, relaxing as he then felt the pressure increase. “Yeah, that’s good.” Snake then let out a sigh.
Otacon nodded, still feeling as if his cheeks were growing warm. He was sure that if he looked in a mirror, his cheeks would be brushed over with a subtle pink. Inwardly, he was glad Snake wasn’t staring at him. That’d be more than humbling.
The silence stretched on, and he could’ve let it linger, but he didn’t necessarily want to. During the aftermath of their missions, they’d routinely share some small talk regarding their feelings. At first, Snake would be wary about being so open — so reflective, but that had changed in more recent times as he found himself initiating the talk at times. That was progress in Otacon’s eyes. He never enjoyed Snake’s closed-off tendencies.
“How’re you feeling? After the mission, I mean.” He still carried on with the massage.
“I’m alright. Tired,” Snake replied, glancing over his shoulder.
Otacon nodded. “Tired? I understand.”
“Yeah.”
They both were silent for a moment.
“You?” Snake then returned the question.
“I’m alright, just a little tired too, I guess.”
He then grunted in acknowledgment of his response, somewhat concerned for Otacon’s exhaustion, though he’d expected it. They’ve been recently carrying out a plethora of missions under Philanthropy, leaving them little to no time for a brief respite.
“Hal,” he called out. It was obvious Snake enjoyed calling his name.
“What is it?” Otacon’s gaze fell on the back of the other’s head as he massaged him.
“Maybe we could go for a break sometime. Take a trip somewhere,” Snake proposed.
The other paused for a moment, suddenly getting flashbacks to a specific moment of their escape from Shadow Moses. But he didn’t dare to mention it.
A trip—just the two of them. Otacon would be lying if he said that notion wasn’t appealing, but that was new. Snake typically wasn’t one to propose such ideas. He would’ve expected the other to stick by his stance on trips, which was them being ‘unrealistic’.
“A trip,” he repeated. “Usually you’d say—”
“Costa Rica.” Snake blurted out.
“Huh? Costa Rica?” Otacon parroted.
“Great climate. Easy travel. Affordable,” Snake listed.
“Sure, but the underdeveloped roads and chances of natural disasters…” he trailed off.
Snake slowly nodded. “Right. We could settle there for a week. Maybe a week and a half.”
“I thought you didn’t like the idea of us being tourists,” he mumbled.
“Things change, Hal.”
“Well, maybe. I guess the natural beauty and diverse biomes would be a nice change of pace,” Otacon began to consider, a contemplative look being set on his features.
He wasn’t sure if Snake was being genuine about the trip or not, but nonetheless, he considered it. No matter the possibility, Otacon had a penchant for pouring his thoughts and feelings into whatever was proposed to him. He just enjoyed musing over things.
Snake smiled at the other’s furrowed expression, finding it endearing how he always took everything seriously. He had to admit, that was one of his favorite things about Otacon — he loved the way his curious eyes would dart off to the side as his sharp mind would attempt to shuffle and sift through ideas. Of course, when Otacon glanced back at him, Snake averted his gaze and hid his silly simper.
“We could go to the beach—go for a swim,” Snake proposed with a shrug.
“Maybe Playa Guiones? It’s on the Nicoya Peninsula… that’s one I’ve heard of,” Otacon decided to chip in.
“The strong currents and riptides could call for a disaster. Wouldn’t want you getting washed away.”
“Right. So, which beach were you thinking about?”
“Playa Rajada, on the pacific northwest coast. It’s much more secluded, and the waves are calmer. There’s also a trail leading to the beach. We could hike there.”
Otacon blinked, and he was curious on just how much thought Snake had put into the whole trip idea. It made him wonder what really went on in his head, and what was the sudden initiation. He supposed he was overthinking their exchange; he went back to musing over the idea.
“I’ve never really been to a beach. Rarely went swimming too,” he admitted.
“It’s no wonder you’re so pale.” Snake’s eyes skimmed over Otacon’s pale complexion.
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, yeah, I guess… I just happened to never really consider going.”
“... ‘Course you haven’t.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Otacon tilted his head.
“You’re surrounded by screens more than you are by trees.” Snake glanced at him and smirked.
“Oh, come on, Dave. That’s my job, and that’s an exaggeration.”
“You rarely get out. You’re like those vampires you freak out about in your cartoons.”
Otacon perked up at Snake’s ignorance. “They’re not cartoons… there’s distinct differences—”
“Point is, we should get you out more.” Snake tried to shut him up before he fell into rambling.
“Hm, I don’t remember you being the most outdoorsy guy either…”
“I can be one. You remember those times in Alaska. I was out more than you were.”
“Hey, well—”
“We could’ve gone sightseeing or done more; we had more time.”
Otacon paused for a moment as his expression had weakened, and a cold wave of guilt washed over him. He could recall hesitating to accompany him at times, only because they were still growing accustomed to each other’s companionship. To his recollection, Snake never asked or expressed any signs of wanting the other near him in the past. Those times, he felt like a burden. It wasn’t easy trying to tag along, not when they were clearly still bemused by each other in those earlier days.
“... You never asked me to, Dave.”
“Yeah. Guess I never did.” He subsequently nodded, resigning himself to those cruelly true words.
Snake didn’t show it, but those words struck him more than he’d thought — maybe he didn’t say or show enough to Otacon in the past. He always tried, but his own inhibitions held him back from initiating anything. He couldn’t count the amount of times he’d gather the courage to invite him to such simple activities, only for the words to get stuck in his throat.
Otacon, on the other hand, dwelled over Snake’s words. The idea of doing more together in the past, and the mention of more time — it made him puzzle about what he truly meant. Perhaps he shouldn’t overthink it and instead take it at face value, but Snake… he wasn’t an easy guy to read. He’d express a vague statement and mean a plethora of other things. He wanted to spend time with him during those times. In fact, he could say he yearned to, but the other never got around reciprocating that same desire. The man was far too emotionally stunted during that period, but things have changed since then.
Snake had been softening in his attitude for the past weeks. It’d started becoming increasingly obvious in the small yet thoughtful favors he happened to be doing for him—the way he attempted to get involved in his daft fixations with older video games, and those flashy and retro animes. But one thing that stood out the most to Otacon was the silent gazes Snake would give him from across the room; it was as if he’d eye him expectantly — wanting something. But he never knew what that was. He couldn’t grant him anything as he never expressed himself.
Knowing Otacon, Snake could feel the shift in the other’s mood. He also noticed how the massage had weakened, possibly due to the man’s flooding thoughts. If anything was clear, it was that he’d grown distracted.
“I’m alright now.” Snake felt as if the ache had subsided due to the other’s helpful massage.
“Oh. Alright.” Otacon was snapped out of his thoughts, and he slowly drew back his hands from Snake’s shoulders, still feeling the lingering warmth on his palms. He remained at the back of the couch, his reflective gaze fixed on the man in front of him. It wasn’t necessarily intent, he was just spacing out like he always happened to do.
Snake noticed the stillness, and he peeped over his shoulder, their gazes squarely connecting. “You seem distracted.”
“I’m fine, Dave. Maybe I’m just tired.” Otacon blinked, his daze being temporarily cleared. It didn’t take much for him to sink back into his whirling thoughts.
Snake gave a wordless nod, his eyes looking off to the side for a moment. He had a feeling he knew what the other was musing, and it caused him to fall into his own spiral of thoughts.
Badly, he wanted to make his desires known to him before it was too late. He’d already failed to do so two years ago in Alaska, and he was convinced Otacon was oblivious to his feelings. Little did he know, they both felt strongly for each other. The feeling was strong, and he was beginning to acknowledge it head-on for once. He held an immense fondness for Hal, and that understanding hit him like a ton of bricks. He’d gone on for so long thinking that he was incapable of feeling that way towards anyone.
Snake never admitted this to Otacon, or to himself even, but the notion of them getting together and sharing a more domestic life — he’d never been opposed to it. In fact, it was an enticing prospect. He could picture them in a kitchen together, trying their hardest to replicate a recipe from some cookbook and failing miserably, creating insane messes in the process and snickering at each other’s failures.
He could even imagine them with four large dogs — both of them taking the energetic canines on a walk that’d end with Otacon stammering as he’d be forcibly dragged towards the direction of a nimble squirrel. He loved the man’s laughable inability to handle animals; he remembered his chaos with the huskies in Alaska. Being two idiots without zero cares for the world aside from the ones for each other, he didn’t realize just how much he wanted that; he didn’t know if the other felt the same.
For once, he could imagine a life that was different — different from everything he was used to. The thing was, he’d only want it with Hal. He wouldn’t bother otherwise. Snake’s gaze returned to Otacon, and affection was beginning to well up in him—a pleasant warmth spread throughout his chest. He knew what this meant; he needed to make his feelings known to the other. No way was he going to pass that up and live without having the man aware of how much he truly loved him, and how much changes he’d been making for him.