Chapter Text
Kaz had a limit to his patience, and he was getting really close to choking whoever was snoring with a pillow. He was lying on a rigid mattress that was just a bit too small for him, trying very hard to fall asleep. But the loud and inconsistent snoring of the men who had joined their cause was truly getting under his skin.
It had been a couple of weeks since they had been stationed at their new shack near the Barranquilla Coast. At first glance, it seemed like a perfect place for them; excluding Snake and himself, they consisted of ten permanent members and didn't really need a bigger place. But now, lying next to ten potentially snoring men, he wasn’t sure whether one of them snored very loudly or if it was a combined effort. And Kaz was questioning every single choice that had brought him here. Perhaps Snake should have let the Colombian army execute him.
The shack consisted of a living room with an open kitchen and a single bedroom, which was given to Snake himself. Kaz had thought it made perfect sense—Snake was their boss and the figurehead of their organization after all—but part of him couldn’t help but wonder if Kaz himself belonged in that room. He had a unique place in the MSF, as he wasn’t technically a recruit but also didn’t fully lead them either; his job was more focused on the administrative side of things, which put him somewhere above their foot soldiers but below Snake. And this complicated his feelings for him; ever since his numerous defeats in Colombia, all Kaz wanted was to prove to Snake that they were equals standing side by side, and that he was not another subordinate. He didn’t dwell on the deeper meaning behind that; he wasn’t a teenager with a crush, after all.
Kaz straightened with a blooming idea: he could just ask to settle his mattress in Snake’s room instead. It wouldn’t necessarily mean anything. Besides, they had an important meeting with a potential client tomorrow, and Kaz’s potential frustration caused by lack of sleep could inconvenience MSF.
Having had enough of the noise and finding a plausible excuse, Kaz sat up on his mattress, carefully stepping over his neighbors, and reached the door. But then hesitation passed through him. Should he really do this? Would Snake find it unprofessional and think that Kaz was crossing his boundaries?
He was actually thinking of sucking up the discomfort when a low and soft voice came from inside.
“Kaz.”
It wasn't a question.
“You can come in.”
Taking a deep breath to find his footing, Kaz slid open the door and entered the room. Just like everything they had, the bedroom was sparsely decorated but orderly; it was just big enough to have a single, relatively large bed and a desk. Snake was sitting by the desk, tinkering with the disassembled parts of what seemed to be a revolver. He wasn’t wearing a shirt. Feeling awkward, Kaz kept his eyes away from the sharp muscles of his back.
With his eye still glued to the gun, Snake asked, "Do you need something?”
Not knowing how exactly to get to the point, Kaz stalled. “How did you know it was me?”
“We’re not crowded enough for me not to know the sound of your footsteps.”
Oh, so he could recognize the sounds of every one of them.
Snake stopped cleaning the barrel of the gun and turned to him, waiting for him to continue. Feeling naked without his glasses, Kaz indicated the other room with his thumb.
“You can’t imagine the racket back there, Snake. Raging Vulture is snoring like a freight train—at least I assume that's just him; it could be everyone. And I couldn’t take it anymore.”
The edge of Snake’s lip twitched slightly, and Kaz couldn’t find it in himself to look away.
“It can’t be that bad,” he said humorously.
“Well, it is. I was wondering if I could crash here for the night. I could settle there,” He vaguely gestured towards the place at the foot of the bed. It would be a tight fit, and Snake could potentially step on him in the morning, but that was still the best option. “And leave before others wake up.”
Snake looked away from the gun to the empty space Kaz had gestured toward. He seemed thoughtful and shook his head. Kaz’s hopes died in his chest before Snake nodded towards the bed.
“No need for that,” he said. “The bed is big enough for both of us.”
Us.
Kaz’s world stopped, and for the first time in a very long time, words stuck in his throat with the option that he didn’t even have the hope of thinking. The room suddenly felt impossibly hot. Snake had already shifted his focus to the gun in front of him, picking up the cylinder and rubbing it clean, seemingly ignorant of the inner turmoil Kaz had been going through.
What was he, a blushing maiden? People could sleep in the same bed with other men that they were secretly finding enticing; it didn’t necessarily mean anything. It didn’t matter that Kaz's treacherous brain conjured up images of soft mornings when they woke up in each other’s arms. Kaz was getting ahead of himself and reading too much into this. Snake was offering him a bit of comfort, not a hand in marriage. Kaz suppressed the urge to slap himself or shake sense into Snake.
“Snake, while I appreciate the offer,” he really did, “I wouldn’t want to trouble you.”
“You wouldn’t,” Snake took his eye off the gun and looked right into Kaz’s eyes. “Unless it’s troubling you.” His face didn’t give a clue about what he could be thinking; his tone was neutral.
Was this a challenge, or a way out, or an offer?
Snake’s eye searched for something in his expression. Kaz didn’t know what he was looking for or what face he was making. All the logical parts of his brain shouted that he should tactically retreat. This was uncharted territory; whatever he decided now could change everything about his relationship with Snake.
But then he looked at the door that led to the other recruits, then at the bed that looked so inviting despite probably being really uncomfortable, and then at the bare chest of Snake, filled with numerous scars and bruises, and found himself wanting to run his fingers over each and every one of them to familiarize himself with every part of him.
“Of course not.”