Easy
folder
+M through R › Metal Gear
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
3,264
Reviews:
6
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
+M through R › Metal Gear
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
3,264
Reviews:
6
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Metal Gear, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Easy
Disclaimer: No one belongs to me.
--
Close my eyes
And hold so tightly
Scared of what the morning brings
Waiting for tomorrow
Never comes
Deep inside
The empty feeling
All the night time leaves me
- The Cure, Three Imaginary Boys
+
This wasn’t love.
No, they’d shed that ugly pretense some time ago, to make way for the truth behind the cursory words. They hadn’t had the room for it, not the patience, the energy. Love was something cute and cuddly, a word reserved only for those pretty little people with the smiles to back it up.
No, they were well beyond that lie.
They knew what this was – they were men, soldiers; there is an apathy between them. This was just lust – just sex, need, a fleeting notion they shared to chase away the loneliness when the shadows crept too close for comfort. He didn’t kid himself about it anymore – no, he hadn’t done that to himself in a good few months. Not since she left, with the child.
His child.
How clichéd it felt at the time, how obvious. How pathetic. He’d tried so hard, and didn’t even see it coming. He’d never been able to keep a hold of anything in his life – how could have he expected his marriage to be any different?
It wasn’t.
So he stopped. Stopped pretending, stopped hoping. It didn’t matter anymore – all the hope he’d wasted on that woman, all that smiling and fine-tuning, and the bitch still left and took his child.
“I just can’t do this anymore, Jack.”
Says a lot, doesn’t it, about hope?
Life was easy without the silly pretenses of hope, that he soon learned when he found himself in David’s apartment that night, in that gap somewhere between despair and resignation – a place he knew well – brain fuzzy and eyes watering. Standing there, like he bloody well belonged, staring him down – silent, pleading.
Pleading for what?
“You’re out of it, kid.”
Of course he saw. David always did.
“I should’ve called first. I just…”
Easy like the hands that reached for him when he began to sob, steadying him instead of shaking him; easy, the warmth of his eyes in the dark, like the strangled affection in his voice, making him shiver as he stared wide-eyed at the man whose arms held him.
“Don’t beat yourself up over this. She’s not worth it.”
Easy, he thought, at the mouth the captured his own – the shock that gave way to need – at the tongue that snaked across his chest when he heard himself say yes, warm and wet, like the animal of his namesake. Easy not to think when he found himself moaning, falling back onto the bed, his fingers pulling and prying at the buttons of David’s shirt to let them roam his newly exposed body. Easy, his mouth on him, his hands, touching him, needing him – laying him bare.
Easy, over the hiss of blood in his ears, the feel of David's fingers wrapped around his cock, the whimper that could not possibly have been his own.
No codenames, no call signs. No bullshit. No Rose. Just heat.
It was just that easy.
“Rose... ”
Yeah.
Easy.
If he hadn’t been so tired of thinking, he probably would’ve rephrased that last part.
--
Close my eyes
And hold so tightly
Scared of what the morning brings
Waiting for tomorrow
Never comes
Deep inside
The empty feeling
All the night time leaves me
- The Cure, Three Imaginary Boys
+
This wasn’t love.
No, they’d shed that ugly pretense some time ago, to make way for the truth behind the cursory words. They hadn’t had the room for it, not the patience, the energy. Love was something cute and cuddly, a word reserved only for those pretty little people with the smiles to back it up.
No, they were well beyond that lie.
They knew what this was – they were men, soldiers; there is an apathy between them. This was just lust – just sex, need, a fleeting notion they shared to chase away the loneliness when the shadows crept too close for comfort. He didn’t kid himself about it anymore – no, he hadn’t done that to himself in a good few months. Not since she left, with the child.
His child.
How clichéd it felt at the time, how obvious. How pathetic. He’d tried so hard, and didn’t even see it coming. He’d never been able to keep a hold of anything in his life – how could have he expected his marriage to be any different?
It wasn’t.
So he stopped. Stopped pretending, stopped hoping. It didn’t matter anymore – all the hope he’d wasted on that woman, all that smiling and fine-tuning, and the bitch still left and took his child.
“I just can’t do this anymore, Jack.”
Says a lot, doesn’t it, about hope?
Life was easy without the silly pretenses of hope, that he soon learned when he found himself in David’s apartment that night, in that gap somewhere between despair and resignation – a place he knew well – brain fuzzy and eyes watering. Standing there, like he bloody well belonged, staring him down – silent, pleading.
Pleading for what?
“You’re out of it, kid.”
Of course he saw. David always did.
“I should’ve called first. I just…”
Easy like the hands that reached for him when he began to sob, steadying him instead of shaking him; easy, the warmth of his eyes in the dark, like the strangled affection in his voice, making him shiver as he stared wide-eyed at the man whose arms held him.
“Don’t beat yourself up over this. She’s not worth it.”
Easy, he thought, at the mouth the captured his own – the shock that gave way to need – at the tongue that snaked across his chest when he heard himself say yes, warm and wet, like the animal of his namesake. Easy not to think when he found himself moaning, falling back onto the bed, his fingers pulling and prying at the buttons of David’s shirt to let them roam his newly exposed body. Easy, his mouth on him, his hands, touching him, needing him – laying him bare.
Easy, over the hiss of blood in his ears, the feel of David's fingers wrapped around his cock, the whimper that could not possibly have been his own.
No codenames, no call signs. No bullshit. No Rose. Just heat.
It was just that easy.
“Rose... ”
Yeah.
Easy.
If he hadn’t been so tired of thinking, he probably would’ve rephrased that last part.