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Alaska is the coldest, gloomiest place in the world, which is why it was no coincidence that Snake had chosen it for retirement.
He enjoyed the quiet, the cold weather, the fresh air and the sole company of his dogs and puppies. The thought of zero people around for miles was something that brought Snake a thrilling sense of peace and quiet. He wanted zero purpose.
Nothing about anything was peaceful or quiet now, and wasn't going to be for the foreseeable future.
The motor of the snowmobile cut off with a loud crack and snarl of its mechanical insides. Snake huffed, sliding off his seat and landing into powdery snow that wanted to swallow him to the calves.
He turned to look at the man he had saved expectantly, who looked like he was frozen to the seat, shivering and staring off into space like he was waiting for death to sweep him off his feet.
"Are you coming or not?" he half-yelled over the loud sounds of nature, teeth clattering against one another.
"Huh? Yeah— Yes. Coming," Otacon replied, stumbling off the snowmobile onto his bad foot with a painful whimper that Snake could swear he almost felt.
Snake felt uncomfortable enough with the cold pinching all of the bare skin it could touch. Inviting this guy — his friend who he'd known for barely a day — into the small cabin he'd lived in alone with his dogs for years, however, was no comparison to that. He rarely felt nervous, yet he found himself sucking in air through his teeth at the thought.
Finding his keys with pained, frozen fingers, he opened the door to his cabin, both men stumbling in simultaneously. It took the full body strength of two grown men to push the thick door shut against the harsh arctic wind howling outside.
The whistling sound of wind in Snake's frozen ears finally ceased. He turned to flick the light on.
"Wow."
Snake wasn't too sure of what exactly Otacon felt so mesmerized about. The cabin Snake lived in was old — really old. The floorboards creaked under Snake's heavy boots and Otacon's shitty running shoes. The walls were bare, and the room looked like a hurricane had torn through it either a day or a few minutes ago. He didn't usually feel embarrassed, but some of the redness on his face wasn't exactly sourced by nature anymore.
Everything in the room smelled like pine, smoke,
and dog.
Something soft thumped against the floor, and Otacon's beady eyes snapped to the carpet in the middle of the room, scared shitless.
"Laika," Snake nodded at the awakened hairy monster in the room, who was sniffling the unfamiliar scent in the air. She watched Otacon curiously.
"Uh-huh," Otacon shook more than he had outside. Granted, it felt like the temperatures inside were much colder than outside. "That's a big dog."
Snake snorted, "Like you've never seen one."
"I—I have!" Otacon protested. "I just thought you kept them all outside!"
"Not her," he mumbled, kicking his boots off into opposite corners of the room unceremoniously. He crossed the room, kneeling on the floor to run his fingers through the husky's thick coat. "She's too old."
He heard a soft noise of understanding behind his back, and Laika's snout fell back down to rest between her paws, most likely to drift back to sleep. It was only then that Snake realised just how cold he felt. Melting snow dripped down his face and clothes, and he shook too, just like Otacon.
He turned his head around to see the man twisting his hands together, then untangling them in a feeble attempt at warming up.
"I'm cold," Otacon said. No shit.
Snake huffed, a little frustrated. He stared down at his sneaking suit, almost frozen. He felt his eyebrows twitch involuntarily.
"Yeah," he nodded. "Yeah, that's gonna be a problem."
Now it was Otacon's turn to glare at the obviousness, which Snake pointedly ignored.
"The fireplace isn't gonna warm us up quick enough. We need to get naked."
"Wh—huh?!" Otacon looked like his heart had dropped to his ass, and Snake then realised what he had just said with a wince.
"Listen, I know it sounds bad," his hands were already at his vest, unzipping it, "but this is what I was taught to do to survive."
Otacon's face was definitely redder than before, the man standing sheepishly in front of Snake with wide eyes, staring at Snake as he undressed as if he were in a trance. He quickly snapped out of it and turned to the side, avoiding his gaze.
Snake wasn't the type to force anyone into anything, but he needed to get out of his wet clothes before becoming hypothermic. The man who stood awkwardly before Snake needed to do so as well, having his whole 'accident' back at the lab and all.
He finished getting undressed, now standing in the middle of the room, feeling even colder. He could feel Otacon's eyes on his back as he made his way to the fireplace, tossing a few logs into it from the pile next to it, disturbing Laika's sleep. Lighter in hand and old newspaper in the other, he lit it and set it on the pile of split, dry wood. The fireplace crackled to life shortly after and Snake closed its door with a satisfying click.
Even though the fire was burning now, it would take forever to heat the cabin up. Snake knew that wet clothes could kill quicker than winter temperatures in Alaska.
He stood up and turned back around to find Otacon still standing in place, like a snowman.
"Otacon—"
"I—I don't, um, have any change of clothes with me."
Snake's words died in his throat. Oh, right. This wasn't Otacon's house.
"I'll get you a pair of mine."
Otacon looked stunned, but relieved. "Are you sure?"
Snake grunted in response, already on the move to the flimsy dresser in the corner of the room. Carding his fingers through the messy heaps of underwear, he found a pair of black trunks he assumed would fit the other.
"Here."
"But—"
"I've got enough of those, just change, Otacon," Snake tried to sound calm and patient, which he was, but the cold was really starting to get to him now.
With a subtle smile of gratitude as he took the pair from Snake, he slowly pulled his white jacket off, then moved to unzip the hoodie underneath.
Then, he stopped.
"Can you, er, turn around?"
"Turn around?"
"Yeah," Otacon sniffled, "please."
"But why—?"
"Snake, I pissed myself! Turn around!" Otacon's voice was crackly and loud, suddenly exasperated. Snake felt bad, he didn't mean to push, he was only asking.
But then again, he understood why he would be frustrated. It was human.
"Alright," Snake turned his back to Otacon, crossing his arms. "Don't get ya'panties in a twist," he muttered.
Snake swore he could hear some sort of mocking mumbling behind his back, but he didn't mind, directing his focus to the worn floorboards instead.
He listened to the rustle of fabric as his eyes dragged across the warm stained wood on the floor, shivering slightly from the cold. Maybe he should've gotten into the bed meanwhile, instead of standing in front of the window half-naked like a moron. Bored, he lifted his gaze up to look out the window — which he couldn't, because darkness flooded the forest outside, and the overhead lamp was on. The window acted like a mirror, so he decided to set eyes on his reflection instead.
He saw tired eyes, fresh bruises from unnecessary battle, and hair gone wild from the snowmobile ride home. He felt like a year had passed inside of Shadow Moses, not a few hours short from a day. Snake dragged a hand across his face, suppressing a tired groan. His eyes subconsciously inched further and further to the left-hand side of the window, and Snake froze.
The reflection of Otacon in the window wasn't startling because he wasn't wearing pants; that's what Snake had told him to do.
It was the fact that, underneath his soiled jeans, Otacon was wearing a pair of light-pink panties with white polka dots on them.
Snake's eyes widened.
He knew that Otacon wasn't an ordinary guy. He was smart in a way that was inhumane, a bit timid and even more of a coward — though Snake didn't think bad of him for those qualities, he appreciated the diversity in personality when it didn't get in his way. He didn't, however, expect Otacon to be the person to wear underwear like that.
And the worst part about the whole ordeal was that, Otacon looked good— really fucking good. The delicate fabric somehow hugged his lanky frame, the shade of pink complementing the pink of his cheeks.
Snake looked away immediately, trying not to think about it. It felt so wrong, and yet, Snake found himself guiltily glancing back up again.
It was weird, and he felt like a moron, but he just couldn't stop. The window wasn't an actual mirror, so the details were out of focus, but his mind did the rest of the dirty work, like imagining what the bulge in his underwear looked like when framed by pink and polka dots.
He didn't expect his cock to begin filling out little-by-little, either. Chills ran down his spine like electricity, his face blooming into red-hot embarrassment. Snake brought his hand up to his mouth, biting down on his index knuckle as he finally tore his starved eyes off of him. After taking off his blue sweater, Otacon started pulling his underwear off, which was when Snake immediately looked the other way. He was thankful to have that much decency left in him.
And how hadn't he noticed that he was totally and completely exposed via window? I thought this guy was supposed to be smart!
A shaky exhale escaped his lungs as he redirected his focus to other things.
Think. Think about anything, Snake's eyes searched the dusty corners of the room for purchase.
Death. Death. The DARPA Chief's decomposing corpse. Moldy rations. Putrid-smelling wolf feces. Rotten eggs. Puppies dying. A tank running over my goddamn nuts.
The thing that had Snake shaken up the most was how easily it had happened. Otacon, this almost-stranger of a man in feminine underwear, turned him on like a machine. Well, not that it should shake him up, considering the fact that his penis stood proudly at attention each time he was presented with something remotely arousing. Even when provoked only a smidgen.
Snake tucked that thought away for another day and bit down harder, hard enough to leave a reminder of that precious sight into his hand for tomorrow.
"You can turn around now," Otacon called from behind his back, Snake stiffening again. He glanced down at his nearly-flaccid dick in his underwear, whispered a little desperate prayer to no one in particular, and turned slowly.
Just like he'd thought, the underwear he'd lent the engineer was just a little too loose on his scrawny body. If anything, it looked like the man before him was wearing cotton shorts, which made Snake bite the inside of his cheek.
Otacon looked exactly how Snake had thought he would underneath his clothes, albeit clearer.
Unlike Snake — who was scarred six ways to Sunday — Otacon's skin was pale and smooth like porcelain, pale enough that the red in his nose, cheeks, shoulders and fingertips stood out like Christmas lights. His left ankle was swollen in a way so ugly, that it made Snake's teeth ache at the sight. He felt sorry. He needed to check up on it in the morning.
Snake looked away and attempted to busy his eyes with the intricate patterns of the carpet below, but it didn't stop him from looking back up again in a split-second, clearly overzealous. Something deep inside his stomach twisted up like a crushed soda can.
He stared for too long and too quietly. Otacon awkwardly shifted his weight between his legs under his gaze. Snake swallowed and exhaled.
"All good?" he spoke and wanted to punch himself in the face for the way his voice quivered.
"Yeah," Otacon mumbled, arms covering his body either from the cold or because he was shy. Snake hadn't a clue.
The room was painfully silent, and Snake could feel the cold air seeping in through the small number of windows in the cabin. The bed was right next to a frigid wall. They weren't going to warm up at this rate — they were about to try warming up in the same temperatures as outside.
With steps that felt heavier than a bear's, Snake made his way to the bed, beginning to drag the old thing closer to the fireplace. Otacon stood still for a moment, before skittering over and helping out. (Granted, he wasn't much of a help, scrawny, weak engineer limbs and all.)
Once the bed was settled into a warmer spot, and Snake could hear the crackling of the fireplace better, he pulled the bedspread off and threw it on the floor. The pillow and blanket underneath looked so inviting Snake almost felt aroused again.
"Hold- Hold on, Snake." Otacon's voice was soft and cautious, like he was expecting to be berated.
"What?" Snake grumbled, shivering more and more by the minute. They were in subzero temperatures in their underwear, for fuck's sake. He just wanted to get into bed.
"How are we, um, doing this?" somehow he managed to sound even more timid. "Like, how are we—"
"I'll get into bed first since I'm bigger and hold you, how's that sound?" Snake cleared his throat immediately after, avoiding his gaze. "You got objections or something?" he asked, making a point to speak softer now, when really, he was the one getting close to objecting his own goddamn idea. He wanted to gain the feeling in his fingers and toes back, but at the cost of getting hard against his friend's back? He wasn't too sure.
Snake had dug his own grave.
"No!" Otacon replied quicker than Snake expected, in a panic. "No, uh, that's fine. Good. Great."
Snake grunted in reply as he walked to the door to turn the light off, shaking the blanket out and getting into the bed once he returned. He held the blanket open for Otacon, waiting.
Otacon seemed to swallow his pride as he waited for a little moment, before kneeling on the bed and unceremoniously flopping down next to Snake. He was as rigid as a rock, his back still freezing to the touch even under the blanket. Slowly, like he was trying to capture a scared puppy, Snake lowered the blanket on Otacon, tucking it under his side.
Snake brought his hands around Otacon's torso, pulling him close. He stiffened, before relaxing into Snake's warmth and touch, shivering and tucking his head lower, the blanket nearly reaching his ears. He took his glasses off, folding them and dropping them to the floor beside them with a clatter that made Laika's ear twitch.
"Alright?" Snake asked, voice quiet. He wasn't trying to scare him. All he got back as a response was a small uh-huh and a shuffle back closer, like he wanted Snake to hold on tighter — which he probably did, given how cold he was.
Snake sniffled — a loud, wet sound, like he was getting sick — but he didn't really notice.
What he noticed was how Otacon smelled like spearmint chewing gum and cheap energy drinks, and how nice it was, like the feeling of a full stomach after being hungry for so long, which made Snake wonder.
Now that there were two of them, food would run out much quicker. The nearest store was a long drive away. He should check inventory as soon as possible. He should—
Otacon shifted again, nuzzling the pillow with the side of his face with a quiet huff. His back felt warmer, and so did his hand when it shifted onto Snake's wrist, latching on gently.
Snake swallowed, pushing down something that was sizzling in his chest, but to no avail.
He felt awkward. All of this could be chalked up to the need to survive, they were two men freezing their asses off in the middle of nowhere with no civilisation for miles, trying to latch onto the small slivers of life they had left by warming each other up. Though, it felt like more.
Nevermind the fact that he'd seen one of Otacon's secrets that he probably shouldn't have ever found out about, considering how the man had demanded privacy. He'd found that secret disturbingly arousing. Hot.
That, in its technical simplicity, was abnormal.
At least to him.
Otacon shuffled back once more, his lanky body falling into place with Snake's just so.
Snake gave in and held on tighter. The top of Otacon's head fit perfectly under Snake's jaw, and if he focused hard enough, he could hear how the man's heart rate had slowed into a resting pace. Otacon was comfortable in his arms. Snake was comfortable, too.
Otacon's fingers tightened their grip on Snake's wrist, the pads of his fingers brushing against the calloused palm of Snake's hand. Snake stared ahead, watching the light from the fireplace dance on the wooden walls of the cabin.
He trusts me, Snake thought, the piercing feeling settling in his lungs like shrapnel.
It wasn't the kind of trust he was used to, because most of the time, if not always, he was trusted with dificult missions and classified information. Otacon half-naked in his arms was nothing like whatever he did most of the time.
He didn't feel quite deserving of it either, polka dot panties-thing and all.
Snake chewed on the inside of his cheek before screwing his eyes shut, blinking his thoughts away.
"'Think 'm gonna fall asleep," Otacon spoke so quietly it barely disturbed the silence, albeit his voice sounding a bit hoarse — likely from the freezing ride to the cabin. He was going to get sick too, and Snake took a mental note to pick up lozenges on his grocery run as well.
Snake hadn't realised just how exhausted he felt too, but it was easy to take notice of the dull ache in his joints once he let himself relax after a day full of tension.
He exhaled, accepting sleep.
"Good night," Snake wished, feeling warm.
Otacon echoed the reply with a murmur.
"Night, Dave."
***
In the morning, Snake wakes up to an empty, warm bed and the soft pitter-patter of bare feet on his floorboards. The clock reads 5:01 A.M., and he squints at his surroundings.
Soon after, Otacon returns to bed with a tired look on his face, squinty eyes from the lack of glasses. He mutters something sleepy about needing the bathroom and bends to stroke Laika's fur twice before skirting around her.
Snake grunts, screwing his eyes back shut. It's still dark out.
Otacon hums a response back like an early-morning songbird, and David welcomes Hal back into his arms for a few more hours of sleep.