Stress Release

And the words just keep coming.



I felt like the first chapter was so unresolved, so I had to put up the second chapter relatively quickly. It was difficult to write, because you mostly think about writing about the sex, y'know? Not so much about what goes on afterward. And especially in a tricky situation like this... Well, it was difficult to wrap my brain around. This chapter isn't resolved, either, so maybe the third chapter will come just as quickly...



Thanks to my readers and especially my reviewers. Glad to know that someone is appreciating the story enough to tell me about it. Not too much sex in this chapter, but there is a bit of language. At AFF.net, there are some areas in the beginning that are supposed to show up in italics, but they won't... You have been warned.



---



Snake rolled over with a growl, pulling a pillow over his face. The sun was shining directly in through the window, spilling light across the entire mattress and making it impossible for him to continue sleeping. He uselessly tossed and turned for a few moments, grunting and groaning in frustration, before finally sitting up. Wincing, he cradled his head in his hands. It felt like someone had been beating him over the head with a tire iron last night. He needed some sort of painkiller.



As he stood, the sheets fell away and Snake was surprised to realize that he had fallen asleep in the nude last night. He grinned, wondering if he had any fun while in a drunken stupor, and he fished around on the floor for his discarded boxers, pulling them up gingerly. Still holding his head and grumbling in pain, he stumbled out of the bedroom and toward the bathroom.



From outside the bathroom door, he could hear that the shower was running. He knew that Otacon wouldn't mind if he popped in just for a second, just to grab some medicine. The lock on the bathroom door never worked, anyway. He turned the knob and slipped in, expecting to hear Hal's cheerful "good morning" as he did, but no voice came from the shower. Snake ignored the silence at first and went to take some aspirin from the cabinet, but as he backed toward the door he regarded the shower curtain curiously. He wanted Hal to say something, anything. He hadn't heard him speak since their little fight yesterday.



"Hal?" he asked, his voice gentle and low. The smaller man did not react. In fact, he seemed to not be moving, just facing the stream of water, slouching. Snake moved forward, reaching out toward the shower curtain. "Hal, good morning. Are you all right?"



Snake slowly took hold of the curtain and pulled it back, but Otacon yelped as he did so. He turned to grab the curtain and pull it closed, but not before giving Snake a view of his bruised face. Snake was appalled. He pulled on the curtain again, more insistently this time, and reached forward to grab his struggling friend by the arm.



"Hal, what the- ...Oh my God..."



Otacon kept his face turned away, his eyes averted shamefully, but his body told the story that he was unwilling to vocalize. The right side of his face was bruised and somewhat swollen, but that was nothing compared to his left shoulder and the side of his neck. The skin was blue and purple, marked with teeth and fingers, although the skin wasn't broken. Below that, his pale hips bore vivid red stripes from where they had been driven into the countertop. He closed his eyes tightly, unwilling to look at the horrified expression on his friend's face.



Snake was unable to control his volume as he nearly shouted, "Hal, what happened!?"



Otacon misinterpreted his friend's anger and he roughly pulled his arm away, glaring up at the taller man. He clenched his jaw, doing his best to look menacing despite the vulnerability in his eyes. He struggled to keep his voice even, maintaining a thin veil of composure. "I w-was attacked," he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.



"By who?" Snake growled, anger flashing in his eyes. He lifted hands to touch Otacon again, to examine him more closely, but the smaller man pulled away from him, shying from his touch. Snake was livid, his temper beginning to boil. "Who did this to you!?"



Otacon looked at him in disbelief for several seconds. Snake looked like he was ready to tear the throat out of whoever laid a finger on his dear friend, his lover. The longer the silence between them stretched on, the more agitated he became, gritting his teeth and shaking his head slightly as he eyed up the damage done to Otacon's body, memorizing the bruises and cuts, vowing to inflict them upon whoever did this to him.



Snake squared his shoulders and began to uneasily shift from foot to foot, his hands in fists at his sides. "Hall, I swear, I will kill whoever did this to you. Just say the word."



Otacon's mouth was dry. He looked at Snake helplessly, his lips opening and closing as he struggled to start one sentence but stopped, contemplating another. Should he tell Snake the truth? He knew that Snake didn't mean to hurt him. Snake suffered from so many internal scars, so many emotional wounds that he never spoke about, many of which Otacon felt were partially Metal Gear's fault. He did not want this to add to Snake's private self-loathing. But although he and Snake were lovers, he had handled Otacon so roughly last night, violated him in such a degrading manner. But he didn't do it consciously; that was another man, buried somewhere deep inside, kept in check by Snake's common sense and conscience...



As his internal debate heated up, Otacon's turmoil boiled over uncontrollably. He was certainly the more emotional of the pair. He withdrew slightly, bringing his arms around himself to hide himself, shamefully. His face twisted into a pained expression as the tears started, but before he could make a sound he was caught up in Snake's arms. The soldier had stepped into the shower with him and now stood with his back against the stream of warm water. He held Otacon firmly, closing his eyes and tilting his head back as the smaller man quietly cried against him. He heaved a heavy sigh, bottling up his rage for the moment. For now, there were more important emotions to attend to, no matter how alien they were to Snake.



They stood together in that shower for what seemed like days to Snake, wasting time as Otacon's attacker went free, possibly harming someone else, possibly planning his next attack. But Otacon's misery kept Snake grounded. He felt the tremors in his lover's body as though they were his own. He lowered his head and stroked through Otacon's soaked hair, the curls sliding through his fingers easily. He felt that there were no lumps on Otacon's head; he hadn't been taken by surprise, struck unconscious from behind. Gently, he coaxed the smaller man to lift his head. The bruise on his face was around his right eye but centered more down on the cheekbone. He had been slammed roughly against a flat surface; a fist would have sunken in toward his eye socket. Snake tilted his head to the other side, where he carefully examined the bruises on his neck. He realized with some disgust that the majority of the bruising was surrounded by teeth marks. They were hickeys. Around the front of his neck were finger marks and tiny scratches where he had apparently been choked. Snake's temper was beginning to get the best of him as he began to put the pieces together. He reached down to Otacon's hips to try and get a look at the bruises there, but as he did the smaller man shyly pulled away, turning and hiding himself in his hands.



"Dave, please," Otacon whispered. "Can we talk about this when I'm done?"



Snake didn't say a word, instead looked his friend over for another moment before slipping out of the shower, roughly drawing the curtains behind himself. He left the bathroom without another word and stomped into the living room, closing the door behind him. Quickly he began to pace around the coffee table in the center of the room, his arms twitching as his anger returned. Who could have done something like that? Who would want to hurt his gentle Hal? Did someone force their way into the apartment, or did Otacon leave to search for Snake and get mugged in an alley? The thought they he was indirectly the cause for Otacon's attack set a sharp spike of pain in his chest. He walked toward the kitchen, slamming his fist into the doorframe as he went past, putting another knuckle-sized dent in the wood.



He ripped open the refrigerator door and pulled out a bottle of juice, opening the cap and drinking right from the jug, despite the number of times Otacon had warned him not to. He leaned back against the counter and rested his free hand against it, but something sharp against his palm made him jump for a moment.



Snake was shocked to find his knife on the counter. Certainly he had taken it with him last night, just incase an unfortunate situation came up. When he returned home - at God knows what time - he must have taken it out of his pocket and left it in here. But why? Snake always kept careful track of things like these, just incase there was an intruder in the apartment. He didn't want to be caught without a weapon. Puzzled, Snake shrugged it off and closed the blade, tucking the knife into the waistband of his boxers. He shifted slightly, moving back toward the refrigerator but as he did, his foot bumped something on the floor. He looked down and stopped in mid-drink as he did.



Otacon's glasses were laying there at his feet, half hidden beneath the lip on the underside of the cabinets. But what shocked Snake were the vivid red droplets of blood spattered on the white linoleum floor around his feet. There wasn't much of it, but it was unmistakable. This trained killer had worked long enough to realize that this had been the site of some brutal act of violence.



Snake began to feel sick, partially from his anger, partially from disgust, and partially from the nagging hangover he was struggling to ignore. He turned and faced the counter, placing his jug in front of him and resting his hands against the cool surface. He hunkered down slightly and leaned in, breathing heavily as dizziness set in. He closed his eyes, swallowing hard to suppress the welling sickness within him, but as he did he heard familiar, far-away voices.



"Where is he!?"



"I don't know what you're talking about!"



Solid Snake cursed beneath his breath, choking the soldier harder as he dragged him out of the hallway and into the nearest secluded room, a security control room. Inside, the bodies of the soldiers' dead comrades lay at their feet. Perhaps the grim decor would get him to talk more quickly.



Snake grabbed him by the back of his head and slammed his face hard against the nearest console, bending the soldier forward and holding him helpless beneath the spy. "Last chance," Snake growled, glaring down at the young soldier. All of this violence and roughness was having a familiar effect on him but he struggled to ignore his growing lust, pushing the unsettling thoughts from his mind. "Where is Liquid Snake?"



Whatever the soldier said next, Snake wasn't really listening. He could tell by the tone of the soldier's voice that he was not going to give up any useful information. Instead, the spy concentrated on his erection, straining uncomfortably against the confines of his sneaking suit. Meryl had gotten him all hot and bothered, and now he couldn't get the lustful thoughts out of his mind! Apparently, this was an adverse effect of living alone in the wilderness for so long. Thoughts of Meryl caused his blood to boil as he remembered that she was still being held captive by Liquid Snake, that sick fuck. Oh, what he was going to do to that blonde bastard when he finally caught up to him...



Snake felt his body involuntarily grinding against the backside of the captive soldier, who cried out in surprise. It took him a moment to realize what his instincts were telling him, but by that time his body had already made its decision. Snake quickly drew his knife and laid it against the soldier's throat as he began unbuckling his pants.



"If you make a sound or even move, I'll kill you."



Solid Snake had never been proud of what he had done while on missions. He terrorized people to get information out of them, he killed them, and there was nothing honorable or legendary about that. But he had done nothing in Outer Heaven or Zanzibar Land like what he did at Shadow Moses. The act had been despicable and frightening, and Snake had subconsciously blocked it out of his mind. From the moment he pulled off the soldier's belt to when he stood back, dumbfounded and dizzy, watching the man's blood pour out of the gaping wound in his neck, beholding that familiar shudder of death... it was all a white blur. Snake knew he had done something terrible, but all this time he averted his mind's eye when the memory played back to that crucial point.



But now, it all came crashing down upon him like a high wave in the Arctic Ocean. His memories were dark and burry but he could plainly see the struggling body beneath him, the blood trickling down the man's thin legs, and the fluttering eyes as his iron grip tightened mercilessly around his victim's throat.



Snake was a man who could usually hold his liquor so well, but this morning was the exception. He dove for the sink and hunched over the counter, white knuckles tightly gripping the sides of the basin as he emptied the contents of his stomach down the drain.



---



Otacon stood in the bathroom, staring at himself in the mirror, willing himself to open the door, but he couldn't. After Snake left him alone, he had put the wastebasket and his pile of clothes in front of the door, as though that would really keep the man out. Now he stood, lightly fingering the bruises on his face, leaning slightly on the sink and wondering what the hell he should do next.



After the way Snake behaved toward him this morning, Otacon was sure that he had no memory of what had happened the night before. It was almost like Snake had become someone completely different for those couple hours. Otacon had met that man before. The Solid Snake he had met at Shadow Moses had a constant temper and although he did his job with finesse, he was not as delicate in his interpersonal relationships. Not with Otacon, at least. Otacon had been grabbed, jarred, shaken, and pushed around more in those twenty-four hours than he had in sophomore year of high school.



Snake had acted similarly months later, when Otacon dropped in unannounced at his cabin in Alaska to see how he was doing. The two had gotten into an argument when Otacon openly criticized Snake for his drinking habits and his slovenly lifestyle, and the altercation eventually ended in a shoving match that Snake inarguably won. It wasn't until much later, as they got to know each other and when they discussed founding Philanthropy, that the two became flatmates. They moved around frequently, the location of new Metal Gears dictating their locale each time. After some time, friendship blossomed, deepened, and eventually evolved into unabashed love. During that period, Snake treated Otacon with progressive kindness, patience, and eventually affection. They learned how to treat each other well, how to get along, how to not push each other's buttons - as they often did in the beginning, being such polar opposites - but most of all how to love each other. Since that time, Snake had treated Otacon with nothing but kindness and love, and Otacon treated him the same. Otacon found that Snake's - Dave's - hands were strong but gentle, his voice rough but soothing, and the same mouth that could speak such caustic and hateful language could be so silky and warm, could cause goose bumps to prickle his skin. Snake acted as the doting lover, ever patient with Otacon's lack of knowledge and experience, and Otacon was the willing virgin, eager to please and open to every suggestion.



There were times when Otacon would worry about his partner, though. He felt that whenever he woke up in the night, Snake was always already awake, one arm casually encircling the smaller man, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. On the few occasions that Snake did sleep, Otacon was often startled awake by him grumbling in his sleep, cursing about his brother, his body twitching every now and then. When Otacon tried to talk to Snake about these nightmares, the soldier would brush him away and change the subject, unwilling to pursue such talk. Otacon took it for granted that he was okay, but apparently he had been wrong. It would only make sense that Snake was suffering from post-traumatic stress, but he was such a strong man that Otacon had overlooked the obvious. He thought that Snake was above problems like that.



"And now look at me," Otacon whispered to himself, glaring at himself in the mirror. "I'm lucky this is all he did to me! He's my best friend; I have to talk to him." Otacon swallowed hard, reaching for the doorknob uncertainly, gently kicking his dirty clothes out of the way. "I have to tell him, I guess..."



As the door creaked open and he carefully stepped out, he caught sight of Snake slumped in the kitchen doorway. One hand against the doorframe steadied him, while with his other shaking hand he wiped his mouth. He was pale and looked quite ill, but as he lifted his eyes and caught sight of Otacon he straightened up. He walked brusquely across the living room, putting the entire length of the room between him and Otacon before turning around. He then began pacing like a caged animal, his hands clasped behind his head as he nervously sought somewhere to put them.



"What happened... Oh God, what happened... What did I do?...Oh God..."



"Snake, stop," Otacon spoke, his voice soft and soothing. "Please, it isn't your fault."



"I attacked you!" he shouted, his steps becoming faster, his eyes glancing at Otacon but never staying on him for long. He didn't want to see all the damage he had done. "I was drunk and I... I..."



"Snake... Dave, it's okay," Otacon spoke, lifting his hands in a gesture of peace. "Calm down, alright? Let's talk about this."



Snake wasn't hearing him, though. His face contorted as he struggled to express his anger, his pain, his remorse, and his frustration all at once. He turned toward Otacon and took a few steps forward, reaching out to him, but the smaller man instinctively shied away. Snake's face fell. He slumped down onto the couch, resting his elbows on his knees and holding his head in his hands as he emitted a groan of self-pity. Otacon was somewhat alarmed; he had never seen this side of Snake.



"Hal, what did I do to you?"



The scientist stood in silence for a few moments, wondering if that question was rhetorical. He walked to an armchair on the other side of the room and gently sat down in it, wincing slightly as he did so. "I think that it's more important to focus on you right now, Dave."



The soldier lifted his eyes, cold and unrelenting, his steely gaze letting Otacon know that he was not about to open up to the smaller man, at least not until he learned what unspeakable things he did. "Tell me what happened," he growled.



Otacon shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "You left here around nine," he spoke, his voice just above a whisper. "I was worried about you and I tried to wait up, but I fell asleep at one point. I woke up at four and got up to go to bed, and you..."



Otacon stopped for a moment, collecting his thoughts. The silence stretched on for some time, and Snake related its length to the violence of the act he had committed.



"You weren't yourself," Otacon whispered, lifting his eyes. He was shaking slightly but doing his best to keep his emotions in check. "You didn't realize who I was, either. Do you even remember anything about last night?"



Snake sat back, heaving a heavy sigh as he tried to recall. "The last thing I remember is last call at the bar. Then I woke up in bed." His eyes turned back to Otacon, silently asking him to continue.



Otacon shifted again, wincing slightly as the bruises on his hips ached with the movement. He spoke his words carefully, thinking them over long before letting them be heard. "You were talking to me like I was an enemy. You were asking me where Liquid was. When I said I didn't know, you dragged me into the kitchen." He opened his mouth to continue but was cut off when Snake slammed his fists against the coffee table.



"I raped you," he whispered, closing his eyes tightly as the words cut his mouth.



"You weren't yourself," Otacon whispered.



"I attacked you!" Snake bellowed, his voice thunderous. Although he sounded angry, his eyes were soft and remorseful as he lifted them to look at Otacon. His voice teetered on the verge of a sob. "There is no excuse for that!"



The two sat and looked at each other for a long time, but neither of them made a move. It had taken just one night, one incident that had taken less than an hour, to completely change their relationship. If Snake had any tears left to cry, he knew he would be spilling them all now.



"Hal," he spoke, his voice soft and slightly wavering, "at Shadow Moses, I... did some things I still regret." Otacon sat back in his seat a bit, finally relaxing somewhat as Snake spoke. "I always prided myself on being a professional. I did my best to get in and out undetected. I had the sense to know when I absolutely had to kill. But after Meryl was taken hostage, I started slipping up." He swallowed hard, keeping his eyes on the floor as he went on. "I was using too much force, getting too messy. I killed too many men. But there was one..."



Snake stopped for a moment, his shoulders shaking slightly as his self-loathing built up inside. His voice deepened as he choked back his emotions. "I don't know how it happened," he went on. "I remember dragging a guard into one of the rooms, pressing him for information. Then, it's all a white blur up until the point where I watched him die. It wasn't until this morning that I realized... what I had done to him."



Otacon hesitantly leaned forward, speaking to Snake as though he was trying to calm an injured animal. "Dave, you went through a lot at Shadow Moses. You were under so much pressure; you were taken advantage of so badly. Any normal person in your situation would have lost control, but you stayed strong and got the job done. You saved the world," he spoke with a smile, but he saw that the hackneyed statement no longer had any effect on this weary soldier. "You've come a long way since when I first found you in Alaska, but post-traumatic stress is difficult for most people to overcome."



Otacon bit his lip gently as he looked for some sort of reaction from his friend, but none came. Snake seemed catatonic. Otacon continued haltingly, being very careful with his language so as not to attract the ire of his friend.



"Whenever I try to talk with you about the things that are bothering you, you aren't very keen on opening up, and I certainly don't have the training to help you with that. I think there are definitely some things that you need to get out in the open, though. Dave, I... I think you should talk to someone."



Snake sighed, sinking back into the couch and pinching the bridge of his nose in a vain attempt to relieve his headache. For once, he thought Otacon might be right.