Chapter Text
A warm, tropical breeze traveled through Mother Base. It slipped through an open window to pester a certain engineer, who was feverishly checking over a blueprint of a new “Metal Gear”: the one they decided to call ZEKE. A name that Miller had suggested, after a Japanese naval jet. He was so engrossed in his work that he didn’t notice the door creak open gently.
“Doc,” Snake barked, making Huey jump. His voice was so gruff from years of tobacco abuse that he couldn’t help it. “You’re tense.”
“Oh…You noticed that, huh? Sorry, I just can’t seem to relax.” Huey let out a groan as he shifted himself in his chair with his arms. “My damn back. It’s been absolutely killing me.”
Snake moved from his position in the doorway to lean on the engineer’s desk. His arm stretched out to rest his hand on Huey’s shoulder. “Sounds like you need a massage.”
“A massage. That sounds nice… I’ve never had one.” The doctor tilted his head to the side, still analyzing his blueprints for potential kinks.
“Never?”
“Nope. I even used to wonder if I grossed people out. Most of the time, they avoid touching me if they can help it,” he said as his face wilted a bit. Snake scooted a little closer, rubbing the shoulder in his grasp. Huey’s head tilted the other way in response, and the soldier took a mental note of it.
“I’m not so cruel,” Snake cooed. Huey craned his neck to face the boss squarely. He wondered if Snake’s lifelong cigar addiction was what made his throat sound constantly like he had a bit of phlegm backed up down there. “Come on, you need a break.”
The engineer nodded as a sigh seeped out of him. “Alright. But I want to look over ZEKE one more—hey, what are you-?!” His thoughts were interrupted as Snake lifted him from his wheelchair. A little bit of awkward shifting and he was draped over two powerful, fuzzy arms like a blushing bride.
“Snake…? Picking me up is a bit unnecessary…”
“I figured you’d like to be pampered.” The engineer crossed his arms and sheepishly grumbled at that.
“Well, it’s a little… I don’t know. Embarrassing?”
“You’ll have to excuse me, Princess,” Snake said, gently laying the other man back onto his bed.
“Princess? Really?” Huey shot back indignantly. Snake chuckled, low and quiet. His brow furrowed suspiciously. “Are you flirting with me?”
“I don’t know, Doc. Am I?” The question was met with meek silence. “Er, maybe I should ask you this instead. Do you want me to be?” More silence, as Snake watched Huey’s face. It was clear from his expression that he was very seriously calculating his answer.
Snake cracked his knuckles and spoke before he could reply.
“You don’t have to answer that.” An awkwardness grew between them, sprouted from the failed banter.
“...That was strange,” Huey murmured. He cursed himself in his head for not exploring that further. “So… how are you going to…?” Snake sat over Huey and began to unbutton his shirt, one by one. The engineer’s eyes fluttered, not expecting such a precise, quick, yet intimate maneuver after that awkward moment. He felt Snake’s breath over the tank he wore underneath, revealed after the other man peeled his button-up off. He felt almost like a vegetable being prepared to be minced over a cutting board. He smelt the boss’s breath too. The familiar stench of tobacco—which never really left Huey himself, as a smoker—but much stronger than he was used to. He could tell a cigar had been between his lips not too long ago. Maybe he smoked one before he walked into Huey’s room.
“Doc?”
The engineer chided himself for letting his mind wander. Snake was gesturing to flip him onto his stomach. His tank was quickly removed.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m ready. And don’t use oil or anything, if you would.”
“Wasn’t planning on it.”
Snake started out soft, hands tentatively gliding across Huey’s tense shoulders. Quick, light strokes using just his flat palms. Lower, below his shoulder blades. Lower, across his middle back. Lower, over the last of his functional muscles. He enjoyed feeling the minute twitches that Huey himself could barely notice.
“I thought massages were supposed to be a little… rougher.”
“Just warming you up. Don’t get impatient.”
Once he reached the waistline of the engineer’s pants, he began to move the opposite way. His hands kneaded firmly, pinching bits of flesh between his fingers and releasing. Slowly, he worked up, up, up…
“That feels great,” Huey breathed. “Right there…”
“You said not to use oil,” Snake affirmed once he reached back up to his starting point.
“Yes?”
“What about saliva?”
“What!”
“I’ve heard of a massage technique that utilizes the tongue as a tool. Though I’ve never had the opportunity to perform it—”
“No way! Just hands are good for me.” Another awkward feeling fell, though this time it was mostly on Huey’s part. “Um, Snake.”
“Yeah, Huey?” He began working down again now, pressing his palms down into certain spots.
“About what you said earlier. I…” The soldier held his breath, hands not missing a beat. “I did like that. The way you spoke to me.”
“What, calling you a princess?” The engineer huffed.
“No! …More than that.” He sighed. “I don’t know, maybe I do want to be pampered. I’ve never had this.” Snake let out the air he was holding. The hairs on Huey’s back stood up upon contact with it. The soldier noticed, and he gently blew another gust over his skin. “Hey, that tickles…!”
“Is that good? Or do you want more?” Huey stopped to consider for a moment, then rolled over as Snake gave him way.
“Could you… massage my frontside?” He considered following up with, “Do people even do that?” but decided it was unnecessary. Snake didn’t seem to mind, sliding his hands up the engineer’s frail frame. He closed his eyes, embarrassment melting away in favor of the trust he’d placed in this man, in his Boss. The trust that everybody on base placed in him. Huey decided then that he’d never felt anything better than two strong, tough hands pushing up over his sensitive skin, over the dark, brown hair coating his chest. A breathy sigh billowed from his lungs.
“Boss…” Though the word felt strange in his mouth the first time over the radio, it slipped out like butter now.
“You don’t have to call me that, Huey.”
“That feels great…” The intimacy scared him far less now. He considered, “He must do this often to be so good at it.” Few words passed between them as Snake did nothing but caress the man below him for a few minutes straight.
Huey’s smile faded quickly as his hands suddenly pulled away.
“Need a break. My palms are tingling.”
“Ah.” Just as quickly now, the sheepishness returned. The engineer propped himself up on his elbows. He looked down at Snake, who laid his head on Huey’s belly. He couldn’t help but rub the boss’s head. Snake whined softly and leaned into the touch like a dog. “Eh… getting comfy?”
“Too close for you?”
“No, no, not at all… it’s… very cute, actually.”
“Cute?”
“Dr. Emmerich, are those specs—Boss?!” Miller’s voice pealed into the room. His attitude switched from his usual laid back to peevish in a snap. Snake turned to look at him as a beautiful vermilion adorned Huey’s cheeks. Each party took a second to blink.
“Kaz. I was just… hanging out.”
“Really? 'Hanging out' alone, in his bed?”
“Ah, Snake just gave me a very nice massage. Much needed.”
“Yep, just… keeping up morale.”
“Yyyeah. Whatever you say, Boss.” Miller spat. He turned and glanced over the work on Huey’s desk. “Is it ready?”
“I-I was still checking it over,” he refuted. Miller shook his head and slipped out the door as suddenly as he’d slipped in. “Dammit,” Snake thought. “I should have closed it.” Huey dropped back and sighed.
Snake got up, sliding his legs over the side of the cot. “Back to work, Doc?”
“Yeah. Pamper me?” The corner of Snake’s mouth formed the beginning of a grin. He scooped the engineer up once again and lowered him back into the chair. “Thanks. I feel a whole load better.” Snake pulled out a cigar and lit it between his teeth.
“Don’t mention it.”