Smart Guy Love

Smart Guy Love


SCENE 1
Damon Baird raised the glass to his rough lips, drinking deeply. When he spoke, his tone oozed sarcasm.
"Fucking Sera, it's a real blast. The verge of extinction is so fucking fun! Then, you have to take orders from some slab of meat like Fenix. No, the smart guy doesn't get the promotion, give it to the asshole instead. So much for gratitude..."

Hal Emmerich looked up at the muscular blond, slightly uncomfortable at the coarseness of the language.
"But if you don't want to take orders why did you join?"

"I wanted to stay breathing. Being ordered around sucks, but it's less shitty than
being Locust food."
The blond man looked into the silver eyes of the smaller, brown-haired scientist. They were full of sadness and recognition.
"Don't pity me, Otacon."

"I'm not! You.... you just remind me of someone."

Baird stood up, his short blond hair rigid, his cobalt eyes gazing over Dr. Hal "Otacon" Emmerich. Otacon's frame was so fragile relative to Damon's, and even though Otacon's broad shoulders meant he was by no means willowy, he was near waif-like compared to Baird's thick musculature. Baird observed Otacon's hair, gray roots showing.
"Want to go back and get this 'bot built?"

"Sure!" came the reply, accompanied by an enthusiastic smile.

SCENE 2
Both men stood back, proudly gazing at the foot-high product of their work. It stood roughly five feet high, glistened in its brushed-metal cladding, created to serve the purpose of small cleaning jobs and collecting drinks from the fridge. Baird smiled, gently tracing one of the joints he worked on with remarkable delicacy. Baird looked up out of the corner of his eye, and saw Otacon smile, basking in the satisfaction of his own work.

"Never seen you smile before, Otacon."
Otacon blushed slightly. "Well, we haven't known each other long.."
"Long enough to notice you don't smile much, or talk much."
"Erm, well, I don't really have much to talk about, really..." Hal's eyes grew evasive.
"Come on, what have you built before? A weapon of mass destruction or something?" Baird's voice slathered the words with sarcasm.

Hal simply looked down at his feet, shifting his weight uncomfortably, scratching the
back of his neck, all traces of satisfaction or pride removed from his face.

Baird backed away from him, knowing his words were a mistake.

SCENE 3
It had been weeks since they arrived in that place. A windowless apartment, fully furnished, with supplies that never ran out. Yet it had no doors to the outside world. Surprise and shock quickly gave way to hostility, the men blaming each other. Twenty minutes later, an uneasy truce developed. Three days later, the two men were at opposite ends of the couch, watching a movie from a shelf of DVD's that seemed to magically get continually restocked.

Now, they were sitting together watching a film, a bowl of popcorn being the only separation between the two. Baird stretched his arms back, yawning, his arm coming back down to rest on Otacon's shoulders. Otacon didn't shrug it away.

"You know Otacon, its good not being the only smart guy around."
"Huh?"
"Back on Sera, they just ordered me around and were total jackasses. If it weren't for me, they'd be dead. So how do they say thanks? Demote me, mostly. It's really fucking fun being Fenix's errand boy, that asshole has no brains and no respect for them either. At least being around other smart dudes, you know your mind is taken seriously."

Hal then smiled. The smile grew on his face slowly, beginning tentatively and unsurely, before spreading wider as his mind feverishly crunched out the implications and assumptions of what Baird said.
"Thank you, Damon."

There was a small silence between them, not an uncomfortable one, but one that gave due time to absorb the seriousness of what Baird said before.
"Did you ever like being a soldier, Damon?"
"No. But it was the only way to not end up as Locust food."

SCENE 4
The two engineers sat on the couch, both watching with pride. The robot reached into the cavernous white recesses of the fridge, its silver claw grasping two canisters of extraordinarily caffeinated cola. The claw retracted and the robot trundled over to the couch, presenting the canisters to its creators. They grasped their drinks and opened them near-simultaneously.

"To good health!" Baird declared in mock-enthusiasm, then growling under his breath, "it's a fucking party not having any fucking liquor..."
"Yeah, back home with Dave, a drink's never hard to come by. I'd love one now..."
They tossed their heads back, allowing the energy drinks to enter their systems.

A few hours later, Hal looked over at Baird, snoring lightly on the couch, eyes shut. Baird was wearing a tattered white t-shirt that was too small for his musculature, and a pair of worn out brown jean-like slacks. Otacon had heard about Sera's lack of resources, but Baird's condition made it apparent. Scars were visible under the shirt, those muscles torn up, remnants of past agonies snaking over Baird's flesh.

Snaking. How fitting.
Snake and Baird's scars were the same really, the corporeal imprint left by the chains of an unwanted job. The evidence of their bondage.

Otacon's gaze fell on Baird's armor, set in a pile on the floor. He did not see armor. He remembered an anime he liked; how the mechas were really cyborgs and their mechanical parts served to restrain and control their movements... the similarity with Baird's armor, with Dave's sneaking suit... Otacon didn't complete the thoughts; the image that they implied disturbed him too much.

In spite of the similarities Otacon saw, there was one glaring difference. Otacon ignored the soldierly muscles and scars for a second, instead remembering building the robot together...

even if I had Dave's strength, I wouldn't want to ever be on a battlefield.

And with that realization, Hal grasped how Baird's situation was, in that crucial respect, worse than Dave's. He clenched his jaw, tightened his fist, a soft yet undeniably frustrated cry emerging from his throat.

SCENE 5
"Sorry Damon!"
"Otacon?"
"I.. I stepped on your foot!"
"Mmph.. I didn't feel anything.."
"Still... I'm sorry."
"You keep saying that..."

Otacon's face suddenly turned curious. "I'm sorry?"

"Yeah! Ever since we got here you keep saying you're sorry!" Baird's voice sounded more concerned than angry.

Otacon's eyes darted left and right, then gazed down at the floor. He took a deep breath, then whispered, a tone of defeat in his voice, "I'm sorry."

Baird could only growl in exasperation. His large, battle-roughened hands clasped Otacon's shoulders. His cobalt eyes gazed into the silver ones before him, with a look on his face completely sincere.
"Why are you so apologetic, Otacon?"

Otacon averted Baird's gaze, looking down, voice saturated in shame.
"I... I.. have a lot of things.. to apologize for..."

Baird instantly remembered Otacon's revelation about the work he did at Shadow Moses.
"REX's spec leak wasn't your fucking fault! That asshole Ocelot was to blame! Why do you keep blaming yourself?!?"

Otacon didn't answer. He simply kept gazing at the floor.

"You're a smart guy, Otacon! You shouldn't fucking loathe yourself!"

Otacon answered back, voice shakier than before, "if not guilt, what am I worthy of,
Damon?"
"This."

In a very short span of time, Damon's right hand left Otacon's shoulder, his left arm extending around Otacon's back, his right hand entangling itself in Otacon's brown hair and pulling his face in, slamming their lips together.

The first sensation Otacon registered was shock. Then, the feeling of being crushed against a slab of warmed rock as he struggled to breathe. Then the roughest lips he ever felt, engulfing his own, the face's stubble grinding against his, the warm tongue slowly caressing his mouth. He finally placed his hands on Baird's oversized pecs, pushing the blond away.

Baird stopped immediately, seeing the shock in Hal's eyes.
"You don't want this?"
"No! I mean, well, yes! But no! I can't!"
A knowing look emerged in Damon's eyes. "You and this Dave... you're fucking, aren't you?"

Otacon blushed... "we...we're.... best friends..." His voice then hurriedly whispered, "with benefits..."

A small smile emerged on Baird's face. "Otacon, if that's where you guys are, there's no expectation to not screw anyone else..."
"I... I don't want it to be... pity from you..."
Baird scoffed. "I only feel pity for the pitiful. Not you."

Otacon then smiled. He looked up into Baird's eyes, his silver eyes glittering with
the confidence brought by certainty.
"Damon... I want it."

Baird's look of concern was replaced with a cocky smirk, his hands grasped Otacon's green T-shirt, and tore it off the slender scientist as if it were tissue paper. Otacon gasped, then smiled; Damon's rough hand bringing soft, warm caresses to Otacon's
bare chest.
"And I want you Otacon. You deserve me, Doctor Emmerich"

Hal's smile grew wider and more certain as his mind traced the assumptions and implications of that statement. He slipped his dexterous hand under the waist of Baird's shirt, feeling those remarkably large muscles, crossed irregularly with the scars of brutal violence. He felt patches of hair, scattered lightly over any scarless tissue. He removed the shirt as Damon moved his arms to help.

Hal gasped at the sight of Baird's torso. The muscles were massive, far bigger than Snake's. But it was covered in a fractal spider-web of scars, the irregular patches of hair only accentuating the effect. Otacon was disturbed by the contrast between the strength associated with the muscularity, and the history of brutality etched into Damon's flesh, the scars and patchy hair reminding Otacon of a lab rat. His eyes went wide, and automatically he flung his arms around Damon's barrel chest in an embrace as protective as it was empathetic.

Damon was first stiff in the embrace, almost uncomfortable, not knowing how to acknowledge the gesture. He heard an earnest tone in Otacon's voice.
"Damon... what did they do to you?"
"Now you know why I don't take my shirt off much..."
He awkwardly returned the embrace, surrounding the broad-shouldered yet slender engineer with his trunk-like arms, feeling every square inch of flesh-to-flesh contact.
"It was really fun getting these scars too. I'm not going back to that funhouse..."

Otacon smiled a little at the return of Baird's attitude.

Baird continued, "I want to stay here, with another smart guy."

They both smirked.

Baird gently pushed Hal onto the nearby couch. Straddling the hacker, Damon licked his way down Otacon's chest, teasingly lapping at his left nipple. The moans were louder than first expected, so he knew he was doing the right thing.

Otacon gasped loudly at every stroke of Damon's hot tongue, moaning as the tongue was replaced with soft bites from the teeth. Baird's calloused fingers firmly grasped his right nipple, slowly pulling and twisting, each act yielding progressively louder and longer moans. His jeans were straining to contain his hardness.

Baird gazed over the other engineer's handsome body. It had slight muscle definition, no scars or tattoos, only warm flesh that quivered with pleasure under his rough-yet-affectionate touch. That touch travelled below Otacon's jeans, enveloping the slender man's manhood, beginning to pump it slowly. Otacon moaned, his own hands reaching up to Damon's chest, squeezing Baird's nipples. Baird responded with a deep, soft growl.
"Fucking hell, you know just the right thing to do, don't you?"

Otacon grinned, his panting slowly climbing in volume, relishing the feel of Baird's callused fingers as they coiled around his cock. He started to leak as Baird's thumb rubbed the spot directly beneath the head. He moaned deeply.
"Slow down! I don't want this to end so quick!"

Baird stopped, a smirk forming on his face. "So you have an idea about what you want to do next, huh?"

Otacon smirked back, his hands on Baird's shoulders, attempting to turn the tables
on the larger man.

Baird complied with his friend's wishes, allowing himself to be straddled, gazing into those silver eyes, feeling those dexterous hands work their way down his slacks, freeing his hardness from its confines.

The otaku let out a small gasp at its size. Then the expression of shock gave way to one of enticement. Finally, his eyes glittering, Otacon licked his lips, then plunged downwards, and in one steady descent of his mouth, he engulfed Baird's member in a vortex of heat.

Damon's eyes widened at this unprecedented but welcome event, before the sensation took him, draining away any focus on anything apart from the warm tightness of Otacon's throat and the acrobatic movements of Otacon's tongue. Deep, purring growls of satisfaction filled the air, slowly escalating towards more violent roars of ecstasy. He moved his right hand behind Otacon's head, his left to squeeze his own nipple. It was all too much, the precision of Otacon's tongue, the heat, the tightness, the sucking, the event horizon of orgasm fast approaching.
"Otacon, stop..."

Hal stood up, Baird's member leaving the otaku's throat with ease. His pants were down as well, his right hand stroking his own manhood, precum emerging from the tip.

"No one's ever been able to take me inside that fast... you're amazing..." The tone of voice was reverent. Otacon smiled, satisfied at the pleasure he gave.

"Otacon," Damon transfixed Hal's eyes with a cold, cobalt stare, "I want you to fuck me."

Otacon grabbed the tube of lube Damon handed him and slicked his manhood up with the cold gel. Damon's pants were now fully off, his muscular form completely exposed as he lay waiting on the couch. The slender scientist approached his hulk-like colleague, his slick, long fingers slowly finding their way to Baird's tight hole.
"Come on Otacon, I want this real bad..."
"My pleasure, Damon" replied the brunette, his silver eyes illuminated with delight at the thought of this incredibly muscular man truly wanting this. The first of those long fingers slid inside with no effort.
"Fuck yeah... Give me another," replied Damon's growl.

The second finger required only a small amount of pressure to slip inside; it softly nudged the blond-haired goliath's prostate as it came to rest inside him.
"Awwrgh fucking hell! Right on the sweet spot, good job man... You're damn good
at this..."
Otacon smiled just as proudly as when he first laid eyes upon the completed robot. His left hand rested on Baird's shoulder.
"I want you to enjoy this... I like you, Baird."

Baird appreciated the sentiment but he was too close to climax to slow the proceedings down with affection, as grateful as he was for it.
"Feeling's mutual." Baird took a deep breath, "now get another finger in there and get ready to fuck me dammit."

The third finger was a tight fit, but Otacon slowly moved the slick finger inside Damon, watching the man's weathered face carefully for any bad signs. There was only a slow, quiet growl of pleasure from the muscular man.

Baird's cock was leaking precum over his scarred abs. He needed Hal inside of him, before it was all over.
"Alright, I'm ready," the voice was slightly unsteady with pleasure, "fuck me, and fuck me now damn you!"

Hal lifted Baird's beefy legs over his shoulders and placed his manhood at the blond man's entrance, his hands supported by the cobalt-eyed behemoth's massive shoulders. He slowly pressed against the well-prepared hole, gliding inside with little resistance.

"Awwrrghhh Yeah! That's just where I want it..." The gravelly voice showed no sign of discomfort, only contentedness.

Otacon's hardness was immediately embraced by Damon's body, Baird moving his hips down to meet the base of the smaller engineer's shaft. Baird's eyes were closed, his throat letting out a deep, sated purr.

The slender engineer's manhood was enveloped in heat and tightness, swallowed by the muscular monolith that was Damon. He couldn't help but caress those muscles with his gaze, as damaged as they were they still held the allure of power. He slowly withdrew himself before gliding back inside, Baird responding with another growl.
"Otacon, don't fucking stop, pound me dammit!"
Hal obliged, withdrawing and returning at a steady, smooth pace, rewarded with a lustful growl every time he reburied himself inside.
"Damon... I'm getting close... you're so good Damon..."

Otacon and Baird were both there, right on the precipice, a sheen of sweat across their skin, breathing heavy with exertion yet ragged with exhilaration. And suddenly, relief came, the soaring adrenaline rush taking them to the peak of their pleasure. Baird spilled his hot essence onto himself; Hal shooting his own deep inside the larger man. Growls and moans slowly faded to measured panting.

Otacon withdrew himself, grabbing a few tissues from a nearby box, wiping Damon's stomach clean with them. Damon then rolled onto his side, and used one of his thick arms to pull Otacon down; the two bodies lay together on the couch in a warm embrace. The smaller man's arms slowly began to surround the larger man, his mouth softly chewing on the cobalt-eyed man's thick neck, yeilding a further purr of satisfaction.

Baird's rough hands travelled over the skin of Otacon's back, tightening the hug slowly, his hot breath travelling past Hal's ear.
"That was incredible, Otacon.."
"Yeah... it was," replied the smaller man, nuzzling Baird's ear as he did.

The sliver-eyed brunette then sighed, looked into the blond man's cobalt eyes,
"There's nothing about what happened that I'm sorry for."

The End