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Liquid Snake, formerly known as White Mamba, and affectionately known as Eli, shifted uncomfortably in his seat. The feed from the security cameras provided no sound, but he could see his brother's mouth open in a powerful bellow, no doubt screaming his throat raw.

Solid's toned body pulled at the restraints around his wrists and ankles, his body arching away from the metal table, his eyes squeezed tight beneath his bandana against the onslaught of unrelenting pain. Sweat poured from his skin, the ridges formed by the hard lines of his muscles collected it, causing every single one of his obnoxiously well-defined muscles to be highlighted deliciously. It made Liquid sick to the stomach.

Liquid told himself that the uncomfortable tightness in his pants was from Solid's staunch, unwaveringly refusal to talk, no matter what they threw at him, rather than the way his body tensed and twisted against the fascinating agony. The way his perfect mouth formed around the wordless expression of pain. The way his strong, adept hands- killer's hands- clenched as he fought to contain the pain.

Finally, Ocelot shut off the electricity, and Solid fell limp, hanging from the table. Had he not been bound to it, he would have surely slid to the floor. He would be complacent in this weakened state. Perhaps even receptive, if Liquid was lucky.

Liquid hadn't been lucky a day in his life. He was doomed from the moment of his unnatural conception to be second best, to be runner-up. Well, no longer. No longer would be stand in his brother's- or his asshole father's, come to think of it- daunting shadow. He would create his own shadow, his own legacy.

Here Solid was, trussed up and ripe for the taking. And Liquid was finally ready to do the taking for once.

Liquid pushed off the office chair and swiped the bomb that he had made instead searching for those nuclear detonation codes, tucking it into the inner pocket of his coat, buttoning it for once to hide his obvious hard-on. He'd place it among Solid's things. That was a good reason to be in there, a good alibi. Much more sensible than his insatiable desire to see if Solid felt as good as he looked.

He stopped by the door, green eyes lingering on the screen, watching as Ocelot turned up the dial once more, Solid reacting just as strongly as he had the first time. His gaze slid from Solid's writhing, sweat-slick body to Ocelot's face, his mouth twisted in a lecherous smirk. That sick prick was getting off on this, he knew it. His disgusting affinity for torture was far worse than Liquid's curious gaze, far darker and much more unnatural.

Or, at least, that's what Liquid told himself as he swung the door open and stalked through, ignoring the questioning gaze of his soldiers.

He strode down the hall and saw a soldier in what he recognized as the medical outfit. On an impulse, he caught their attention with a sharp order.

"Sir!" The girl said nervously, turning around at once, a hand snapping to her forehead reflexively. Her eyes darted around, looking everywhere but his face.

"Where are they keeping the girl?" Liquid asked, his mouth twisting unpleasantly over the last word, as though any mention of the female in question turned his stomach.

"Meryl? She was just moved to a recovery room, sir." The soldier explained, eyes flitting over his face in curiosity. When his cool gaze met her nervous eyes, she looked away immediately, looking instead over his shoulder. "She lost a lot of blood from those bullet wounds. It's a miracle she's still alive-"

Liquid shoved the soldier against the wall, pinning her there with a strong arm across her throat. "You think Sniper Wolf doesn't know a thousand ways to hurt a man without killing them?" he asked, his normally obnoxiously loud tone suddenly low and dangerous. The girl gasped for air, her hands pulling at his arm. "You think that she would still be alive if Sniper Wolf didn't want her to be?"

"No- Sir- Please-" The soldier gasped, fingers scrabbling fruitlessly at the arm cutting off her oxygen supply. Having made his point, he dropped his arm, dusting off the sleeve as though he'd trailed it in something disgusting. She immediately doubled over, coughing and massaging her abused throat.

"Take me to her." Liquid ordered, and the girl straightened up immediately, still rubbing at her throat and led him down the hallway and through two sets of doors before stopping outside a glass paneled door.

"She's in there, sir." The soldier told him, her voice still hoarse.

"You're dismissed," Liquid said carelessly, already opening the door. The girl scurried away, her dark bun bobbing behind her as she made a hasty exit, going back the same way they came.

Liquid let the door fall shut behind him, scanning the makeshift hospital room with a critical eye. You had to hand it to them, the men had done a good job of recreating hospital-level accommodations. They even had scrounged up an ubiquitous set of curtains in an ugly shade of green.

A cot was set up in the middle of the room, a sickly pale girl laying atop it, her red hair a tangled mess on the thin pillow, an IV slowly dripping via a long silver needle that was plunged into an arm that corded with wiry muscle. Her chest rose and fell slowly, methodically, and her fingers twitched as though she were having a particular engaging dream.

Liquid noted the fresh black tank top that somebody had provided for her, the other tank top so riddled with bullet holes and blood-stained that it would have been more prudent to go naked. How kind of them to get her a new shirt.

Liquid moved closer, the buckles on his coat clinking loudly in the quiet, small room. He grabbed her soft chin, inspecting her face with a critical eye. Certainly not an unpleasant visage, but she wasn't particularly good looking, either.

Seized by curiosity, he lifted the sheet, grateful for his gloves providing a thin barrier so that he wouldn't actually have to touch her and shoved her onto her side, appraising her ass swiftly. With a disgusted "tch", he withdrew his covered hand and dropped the sheet, turning away.

"Nothing special," he muttered aloud, pushing open the door and stalking off in the direction of the "Interrogation Chamber", coat swishing about his legs. It wasn't a poorly shaped arse, but it certainly wasn't anything to call home to "Master Miller" about. He had no idea what on earth Solid was salivating over.

Liquid strode purposefully through the hallway, ignoring every salute and hurriedly called out, "sir". He had somewhere to be.

He finally made it to the room where Solid was being held, and he put a hand on the door, about to open it when he noticed something odd in the shadowy edge of the hallway, spotting it from the corner of his eye. He dropped his hand, staring at what looked like the air distorting, like it was being displaced by something. Or someone. Liquid took a step back, turning and tilting his head in confusion.

Liquid squinted at the spot, making to move a hand through it when the door suddenly slid open, Ocelot's insufferably pleased countenance stepping through, a wide grin on his face.

"You look pleased, old man. Did you mess your pants in there?" Liquid asked flippantly, turning his back on the odd spot, forgetting about it in the presence of the useful irritant, Revolver Ocelot.

"I was simply looking for some valuable Intel," Ocelot said smoothly, the smug smirk still firmly in place.

"Hm. I think it was quite clear from the start that he knows absolutely nothing of importance." Liquid said, with a haughty toss of his head, his carefully maintained blond curls settling along his shoulders, light strands getting caught in the collar of his dramatic coat. "I think that was just a bit of fun on your part, Ocelot."

"And what are you doing here? Looking for a bit of fun yourself, Liquid?" Ocelot asked, raising a single silver brow, his posture still speaking of that of a man in complete control, despite the sling cradling his ruined stump. His white mustache twitched in clear amusement, and Liquid felt color rise in his cheeks. He fervently hoped it would be mistaken for anger.

"I am going to place this bomb among his things. In the event that he somehow gets free. Unlikely, of course. But just in case." Liquid said, slipping a hand beneath his coat and fingering the edge of the bomb, thankful for his fortunate forethought in coming up with a reason for being there. Ocelot seemed unimpressed.

"Why don't we simply destroy his effects? That seems far more prudent-" Ocelot began to point out, but Liquid shoved past him with an angry snarl. He made to open the door, but paused, looking over his shoulder at the collected man behind him.

"We would be giving away a perfect opportunity for a trap if we simply destroyed his things. The first thing he would do if he got out of that cell is gathering his gear. It simply makes sense." Liquid said, prepared to defend his plan tooth and nail, although he had to admit that destroying Solid's equipment was a much sounder plan than planting a bomb in it.

"Whatever you say, boss." Ocelot said, with a short cough that could be construed as a laugh as he left, spurs jingling with every purposeful step.

"Most likely off to wank off in a grimy bathroom stall," Liquid thought with no small measure of disgust, even as he entered the room in which his brother was being held to perform a similar act.

Solid was bound to the shiny, silver table, cuffs encircling his wrists and ankles, effectively pinning him in place. When Liquid had entered the room, Solid had been sagging in the constraints, his dark head lolling on his bare shoulder, but at the sound of footsteps, his head snapped up, unfocused eyes taking in Liquid's presence.

"You don't think I've had enough yet, huh?" Solid asked, his voice made even rougher from screaming in agony, an easy, crooked smile on his face despite the tension in his body, every muscle readying for an attack. Despite his exhaustion, despite the hopelessness of his situation, he kept on kicking. Liquid felt another stab of unwilling admiration and respect for his brother. But then, being the superior to Liquid in every way, he'd better have been able to take it.

"You are an impressive individual, Solid Snake." Liquid said, his mocking tone undermining his praise. "Stronger men have broken from far less."

"Hm," Solid said, struggling to focus on Liquid, his eyes dazed. "Or maybe you guys just aren't as good as you thought."

Liquid snorted. "I hardly think that's it," he said, every syllable coated with deliberate derision. "No, as unfortunate as it is, you are a formidable opponent."

"Gee, thanks." Solid said sarcastically, shifting slightly on the table, wrists straining under the pressure of being clamped in place for so long.

"You're welcome. I mean it." He strode over to the table that Solid's equipment was setting on and leaned against it, fondling the bomb in his coat. What a shame that Solid had to die. He would be an excellent ally to have. "We're not so different, you and I."

Now it was Solid's turn to snort. "Considering that you want to nuke the fucking White House and I want to stop that, I think we're different enough."

"Oh, dear brother, the White House is just the beginning," Liquid said, a gleeful, maniacal glint in his eyes. Solid's brows shifted beneath the bandana, confusion crossing his features.

"'Brother'?" he asked blankly. Liquid kept on calling him "brother". One of the, "Last remaining sons of Big Boss", that's what he said. Ocelot called him the "Boss' brother". He was sure that the answer was obvious, though it remained elusive to him. If only his body didn't ache in a thousand different places, if only he could think straight without Liquid's or Ocelot's annoying boasting cutting through his skull, or Sniper Wolf's teasing whispers against his cheek. He hoped that Meryl didn't have to endure this same treatment, he hoped that he was at least protecting her from this.

Liquid coughed delicately, unable to contain the slight smirk of pleasure as a a little thrill of triumph coursed through him. He knew something Solid didn't. He opened his mouth to explain fully, then shut it again. He could explain later. Right now was playtime.

"Merely an expression," Liquid assured him, rifling through the many pockets of Solid's suit, looking for a spot to stash the bomb.

"Hey, that's my shit," Solid protested, unconsciously pulling at the restraints as he tried to prevent Liquid from going through it.

"I think once I bested you in combat and held you captive, it became mine." Liquid taunted him, pulling open another pouch.

"You didn't best me. Sniper Wolf bested me," Solid muttered, turning his face away. Liquid seized the chance and slid the bomb inside a pouch, just as he caught sight of light glinting off of something shiny and metallic.

"No? Then why are you currently at my mercy? Completely under my control? I could do whatever I wanted to you, and you couldn't stop me... David." Liquid said, eyes dilating in desire as he took in what he just said. He drew out the dog tags that had been stuffed at the bottom of the pouch and allowed them to hang from his finger, swinging them infuriatingly. Solid grumbled and met his eyes stubbornly.

"Keep it in your pants, Eli." Liquid's eyes widened before he remembered the dog tags hanging from his own throat. Solid still didn't know about the Les Enfants Terribles project, or the details of it, at least. Liquid laughed and tucked the dog tags back into the pouch, patting it closed.

"Hm. I beat you. I want to hear you say it. Liquid Snake... Beat.... Solid Snake." Liquid said, moving to where Solid was bound and resting a palm flat against the table. Solid's nostrils flared, but he didn't move away. He didn't want to give Liquid the satisfaction of squirming away from his presence.


"Go fuck yourself," Solid said fiercely, looking down at him. Liquid leaned in so close that the tips of their identical, sharp noses almost touched, looking into Solid's blue, blue eyes.

Liquid let out a laugh, quiet and malevolent. He slowly stripped off his gloves and tucked them into a pocket on his coat, meeting Solid's confused, combative gaze.

"With pleasure," Liquid replied, trailing the tip of his finger down Solid's chest. Solid jerked reflexively, shocked by the sudden, gentle touch.

"I think I'll have a lot of fun with you," Liquid breathed, sliding over and pushing his chest against Solid's bare stomach, his breath puffing out over his damp skin.

"What the hell are you doing?" Solid asked, as Liquid gripped his sides and bent lower, tracing a scabbed-over wound with his tongue, tasting Solid's skin and sweat, leaving a trail of saliva in his wake. Liquid didn't answer, his tongue too busy lapping at the tense muscles of Solid's abdomen for speech. Liquid could feel his trousers filling out once more as his cock grew interested in the happenings of the moment, his hard-on having abated sometime previously.

Solid made a near inaudible sound of disapproval, but held perfectly still as Liquid licked and nipped at his stomach, allowing his head to loll on his shoulder again, bored and tired to the bone. He let his eyes slip closed again, deciding that he would at least rest as he was molested by this pompous British asshole. He sniffed in deeply and straightened out on the table, smelling something pleasant and incredibly unlike his own rank scent of sweat and smoke.

"Hey, your hair smells nice," Solid said, adjusting his position slightly, trying to get comfortable on the torture table. Liquid froze and pulled back from where he'd been nibbling at a spot on Solid's defined stomach, shocked.

"Are you smelling me?" he demanded, looking up at his brother, who shrugged.

"Yeah, you smell good. Like a girl... Smells like strawberries and...." Solid trailed off, his head flopping back down, his eyes still shut tight. Liquid slapped his cheek impatiently.

"And? What else do I smell like?" Liquid asked urgently, desperate for praise.

"Hm? You smell like... Clean..." he offered finally, thoughts fuzzy as his head slowly filled with static, his mouth achingly dry. He was going to pass out soon. He hoped that Liquid would be done with whatever he was doing to him before that happened. Solid didn't want to pass out with this dangerous man still in the room.

Liquid huffed. "At least I don't smell like gunpowder and sweat." Liquid said petulantly, ignoring the fact that he was intensely enjoying the scent of his brother surrounding him.

Liquid pulled away from him and Solid's eyes opened a crack, brilliant blue peeking through as he watched Liquid's movements suspiciously. Liquid punched a complicated series of buttons on the controller and all of Solid's muscles locked in preparation of intense pain, but instead the cuffs around his ankles released. Liquid laughed at him, unkindly.

"Relax, brother. I'm not here to hurt you. At the moment." Liquid said coming closer once more and pressing his body flush with Solid's.

"What are you here for, then?" Solid asked, looking down at him, the jolt of adrenaline clearing his head slightly. He was painfully aware of the strain placed on his arms like this, and he planted his heels into the table, trying to relieve some of the pressure.

"And I thought you were intelligent," Liquid said, pressing his mouth over a purpling bruise and biting down. Solid hissed, then relaxed against the table. He would let Liquid have his fun. It don't really bother him.

Liquid slid his hand down the plane of his brother's stomach and undid the button of his trousers, slipping his hand beneath the curious fabric and wrapping around his cock. He was horribly disappointed to find it completely flaccid, and he made a noise of intense displeasure, looking up into Solid's smirking face.

Solid chuckled, a low, erotic sound that went straight to Liquid's groin. "Hm. I guess prissy British bitches aren't my type." he said, amused. Truth be told, watching the blond work his tongue over his torso was mildly arousing, but Ocelot had taken a lot out of him. He could barely hold his head up, let alone get a hard-on.

Liquid growled and tightened his hold, slipping into the awful, American accent that he had developed to play at being Master Miller. "Is this more to your liking, David?"

Solid jolted like he'd just been shocked, and his dick hardened slightly in Liquid's firm grasp. "Hey. You sounded familiar..."

Liquid scoffed, a noise of mingled disbelief and pleasure at how clueless Solid was. "You're a fucking imbecile."

Solid shrugged, unperturbed, looking like he was completely at ease, despite the fact that he was hanging from a table with another man's hand down the front of his pants.

"It certainly seems like this idiotic, smelly Alaskan is your type," he said with a dangerous grin, toeing the obvious bulge in Liquid's trousers with a booted foot. Liquid enjoyed the slight pressure against his will, and he growled angrily. He roughly extracted his hand from Solid's pants and curled it into a fist, slamming it into Solid's jaw so hard that his head cracked against the silver table, a loud bang resounding through the room, his lip splitting.

"Ow," Solid said tonelessly. He stretched his jaw out, tongue flicking out to catch the drop of blood welling up on his lip. Liquid swallowed hard, hating how arousing he found Solid right now, bound by his arms on the table, pants undone and blood staining his lips, shiny and wet-looking. He glanced nervously at the door, hopping that no one would come running at the noise.

"I'm only here because I'm bored," Liquid assured him, backing away and turning to the sink that was usually reserved for cleaning tools used for the more hands-on approach to torture. He collected his blond curls in one hand and switched it on, ducking his head to fit his mouth under the faucet and swallowing the stream.

Solid's tongue ran over his dried, cracked lips as he watched Liquid gulp down glorious water. He hadn't has so much as a thimbleful of water in so long.

"Had to wash the taste of your grit from my mouth," Liquid said haughtily, striding back over and slipping his coat off his shoulders.

"Hold this for me, why don't you?" he drawled out, hanging it on Solid's hand. Solid's eyes flashed with bright anger and he flicked his hand out violently, almost causing the coat to fall to the floor. Liquid caught it with a naughty, pleased smirk and rehung it on his hand. "Careful, now. Ocelot's not the only one who knows how to work this machine, you know."

Solid's nostrils flared with suppressed fury, but he clenched his numb hand around the fabric, holding it in place. Liquid patted his cheek, grinning broadly.

"Good boy," he said lazily, before grabbing a fistful of Solid's dark, sweaty hair and yanking him down, crushing his mouth against his, tasting the metallic tang of blood.

To his intense surprise and overwhelming pleasure, Solid's tongue slipped out and traced his mouth forcefully, tongue lapping up every drop of residual water still clinging to his lips. Liquid gasped as his cock twitched violently in his pants and for a mortifying, heated second he thought he was about to come in his pants. Solid was finally getting into it, he was finally responding. Liquid knew he'd come around. His charms were powerful enough to ensnare any man, he was fairly certain.

The second Solid was certain he gotten every last drop of water, he withdrew his tongue, firmly closing his mouth, although the hand Liquid still had in his hair held him in place, Liquid's mouth still moving insistently against him.

Liquid was livid, and embarrassed. He was being used as a simple water delivery system. He sucked Solid's full lower lip into his mouth and bit down on the wound, blood immediately welling up to the surface and filling his mouth. He broke away and spat on the ground, Solid's blood smeared across his mouth.

Solid looked at him, his head drooping, looking bored and exhausted, his lip bleeding freely. That just fueled Liquid's desire to prove himself. Very well. He'd make Solid want him. He had some time.

"Well," Liquid panted out, dropping to the floor and resting on his heels, tilting his head back to look at Solid's face, his face level with Solid's crotch. "I know one thing that's everybody's thing. You're lucky everything's going so smoothly. I have nothing to do right now, so I might as well kill time with you,"

Solid huffed out a sigh and tilted his head towards the ceiling, ignoring him as best he could in his present condition. Liquid locked his jaw and reached up, fitting his fingers beneath the stiff, unusual fabric of the waistband and yanked them down roughly, pulling them halfway down his thick thighs. He would gain Solid's attention soon enough.

He swallowed a groan at the appearance of Solid's barely hard dick. It was certainly impressive, even in this partially aroused state, and slightly intimidating when it was two inches away from his face, but he was not a man easily deterred from his chosen path.

With a speculative glance at the exposed cock, he reached down and undid his own trousers, working out his embarrassingly hard, leaking dick free. He held it his hand, his other hand reaching up to lightly trace the side of Solid's sizable shaft before gripping it firmly, wrapping his fingers around him. Liquid glanced at his own lap and then back up at Solid's.

"Are you measuring me?" Solid asked incredulously. Liquid looked up guiltily, meeting Solid's light eyes, which were currently slanted in disbelieving disgust.

"No, of course not!" Liquid said too quickly, dropping both of their dicks and pulling Solid's trousers down the rest of the way, pausing as he spotted a dark bruise in the unmistakable shape of a bite mark. He rubbed his thumb over it, mouth quirking downward in disappointment. Evidently, he wasn't the only person in recent memory to get on their knees for the legendary Solid Snake.

Above him, Solid grunted out a sound of amusement, apparently noticing his distraction, but offered nothing, simply watching him with barely intrigued eyes.

He liberated Solid of his trousers, hardly taking a moment to appreciate Solid, stripped completely bare and hanging from the table, Liquid's coat still swinging from his reluctant hand. Without further ado, Liquid slid his mouth over him, one hand guiding Solid's cock into his waiting mouth, the other clamped around his hip, unnecessarily holding him in place.

Shit. He was really fucking big. There was no way Liquid could get all of this into his mouth. And he wasn't even fully hard yet. Liquid eased back, pulling off of him, licking the side of his dick, trying to coax more life into his erection, pressing his lips against the tip.

Solid sighed heavily above him, and not even Liquid could convince himself that it was a sigh of pleasure. No matter. Solid would be begging him for more, soon enough.

Filled with renewed determination, Liquid put his heart and soul into this odd blow job, licking the sides and pressing odd kisses everywhere his lips could reach, stroking his hand across his thighs and rubbing at his sack, but Solid did nothing, watching him work with a cool, disinterested gaze. Finally, Liquid pulled back with a huff of frustration.

"It's a genetic impossibility for you to have erectile dysfunction, and yet that's exactly what this must be," Liquid said, shirtless and sexually frustrated.

"I assure you, it's not my dick that is underperforming," Solid said, rolling his eyes. "I have it on good authority that it functions pretty damn well. Just put my pants back on and leave me alone. I think I've been tortured enough, don't you?"

"I always finish what I start," Liquid retorted with a sniff.

Liquid reached down and pumped his own dick roughly as he worked his mouth over Solid's dick once more. Both of them were going to get off during this embarrassing tryst, Liquid was certain. It was just a matter of figuring out what Solid liked, that's all. Liquid got a bit more of Solid in his mouth this time, and he hummed to himself in triumph. He always was a quick study, but he felt he could do better.

Liquid slid his hand along Solid's hip, his other hand still pumping himself furiously, and dug his fingers into his ass, nails biting into skin as he tried to go further. To his surprise, Solid let out a low moan for the first time, his back arching.

Inwardly smirking, his mouth was still stretched around Solid, Liquid dropped his own dick in favor of Solid's other asscheek, gripping in it firmly. He dragged his blunt nails across his ass, red lines blooming in their wake, and Solid moaned again, louder, hips shifting as he tried to press closer. So this is what he was into. A bit of rough treatment. Liquid could certainly oblige.

Liquid made a noise of self-satisfaction, even as he gagged on Solid's steadily firming cock. Liquid tilted his head back as he tried to accommodate Solid's growing girth. Solid, on his part, finally seemed to be enjoying himself, shifting on the table, fingers of his free hand twitching as though he longed for something to touch.

Liquid tilted his head all the way back, exposing his neck, blond locks falling all around his face, pulling off of Solid with a lewd, wet pop, shiny lips pulled into a grin. "So you liked that, brother? You like it when I hurt you?"

Solid grunted. "Don't call me that now. It's weird."

Liquid leapt to his feet easily, still clothed hip pressing into Solid's bare thigh, flush with his chest. "Isn't this whole situation uncommon, my dear brother?"

Liquid didn't give him a chance to retort with a snarky reply, capturing his bloodied mouth with his own, trying to force his tongue into Solid's mouth. Solid parted his mouth slightly, letting him have his fun, thrusting his hips against Liquid's middle trying to relieve some of the pent up arousal in his fully erect dick. Liquid rocked against his muscular leg, enjoying Solid's unnaturally warm body heat and the press of his hard thigh against his swollen cock.

Solid kissed him back, finally giving in to Liquid's desire, the slide of Solid's lips against his own almost too much for Liquid. Liquid groaned loudly into Solid's hot mouth, and he dragged his nails down Solid's chest, scratching ten bright red lines into his already abused chest, pushing closer.

Liquid finally broke away, panting. "Could you taste yourself on my tongue, brother?"

Solid pulled a face, frowning in distaste. "You're fucking gross, Liquid."

Liquid wiped off his mouth, smearing blood and saliva across the back of his hand, stepping back. "Watch your tone, or I'll leave you like this for Ocelot to find. If we're lucky, you might give the old fart a heart attack."

Solid pulled at the restraints hopelessly, frowning deeply, his erection large and flushed and extremely noticeable. "Thought you never started anything you didn't finish?"

Liquid dropped to the ground again, eyes on Solid's dick. "And don't you forget it," he said, before he wrapped his mouth around him once more.

Solid thrusted his hips shamelessly, fucking Liquid's mouth, selfishly looking for his own release and completely uncaring of Liquid's enjoyment, and Liquid was relishing every second of it. He kept one hand on Solid's hip, trying to gain some semblance of control over the situation, the other one finding his own dick and stroking it, trying to mimic Solid's rough tempo.

"Fuck- Liquid- Eli," Solid said, in a low, aroused rasp, and Liquid came violently and suddenly at the sound of his true name from Solid's lips, spilling over his hand and splattering against the base of the table. He shuddered, moaning as he choked on Solid's cock, and Solid continued his unrelenting pace, his hips moving faster as his orgasm built.

"Eli," Solid panted out, body arching in pleasure instead of pain, muscles working smoothly as he got himself off with Liquid's eager mouth. "Fucking hell, Eli, I'm really fucking close."

Liquid shoved down the pleased gratitude he felt for Solid's considerate attempt to warn him, determined to catch Solid's load. Simply for easy cleanup purposes, of course.

Liquid reached up with his sticky hand and placed it on Solid's shifting thigh, moving the other to the the same spot on his other thigh. With no due warning, he dragged his nails down Solid's thigh, tearing the skin, blood welling to the surface. Solid cried out in pained pleasure so loudly that Liquid was certain that it could be heard in the hall beyond, but he couldn't bring himself to care, feeling a special kind of pride from being the one that wrought these sounds from Solid's throat. Perhaps this was what Ocelot felt when the people he "interrogated" screamed.

"Unnnhgg," Solid moaned, throwing his head back, eyes squeezed shut, banging into the table behind him, the hand not occupied by Liquid's coat clenching uselessly at nothing. Solid finally climaxed, his hot release spilling down Liquid's throat, causing him to cough and splutter around his dick as he struggled to swallow it all.

Finally, Solid's hips slowed, then stopped. He rested his naked body against the metal table, warm from his body, chin resting on his chest, the tails of his bandana tickling his skin. Liquid gently disengaged himself from Solid's softening dick and straightened up, his throat feeling wonderfully abused, finally satisfied. What a pity Solid had to die. Liquid could grow addicted to that dick. Perhaps he already was. It only took once, he was fairly certain.

"Well, brother, I believe you owe me an apology." Liquid said smugly, stepping back, admiring the image Solid made, completely spent, hanging from the table clad in absolutely nothing at all. Solid didn't respond, didn't even deign to lift his head.

"Brother. Brother? Solid Snake?" Liquid tried, stepping closer, peering curiously at him. "I believe that man who just delivered you through an amazing orgasm deserves a little- Oh, for fuck's sake."

Solid was out cold, finally getting some much needed rest, his face completely relaxed as he slept peacefully, despite his unconventional surroundings. Liquid rolled his eyes, doing up his pants and grabbing his coat off of Solid's unresponsive hand and shrugging back into it.


"A real ladies' man, I perceive." Liquid muttered irritably, yanking a rag normally used to clean up far different kinds of bodily fluids from the cabinet above the sink and wiping Solid's dick off, none-too-gently. "I bet they love you, snoring on their neck after you fuck."

Solid slept through his rough treatment of his body, and Liquid appraised him with appreciative eyes, considering leaving him there to hang. He did look exceptionally fuckable in this state. And yet, he did not want to have to explain why Solid was in the nude with semen splattered across the base of the machine he was strapped to, right after Liquid left the room. So he sighed regretfully, wiping the blood almost tenderly from Solid's slightly parted mouth. He wiped everything else down, and tossed the towel into the hazardous waste container, wanting every piece of evidence of his latest tryst destroyed.

Liquid retrieved Solid's trousers and underwear, rubbing the strange material of the trousers between his index finger and thumb, trying to place where the fabric came from. Giving up, he slipped them back over Solid's feet and zipped him back in, stroking his cock one last time in farewell.

Liquid knelt on the floor, this time to fit Solid's ankles back into their respective restraints. Any other man, and he would have left it, deeming it a pointless precaution, but this was no ordinary man. Solid could most likely free his wrists armed with only a shoelace and his toes.

Liquid paused, picturing Solid picking his locks with his toes. Solid was probably fairly flexible, which was quite an interesting thought. With that body coupled with a supple frame, he'd be an excellent shag when he was at his full strength, Liquid presumed.

Liquid shook his head, affixing Solid's feet in place, standing up and punching the necessary buttons to reattach him to the machine. Trailing his fingers lightly down Solid's face, he cupped the back of his head and slid his other hand beneath his chin, gently tilting his head upwards, placing an almost chaste kiss beneath his eye, before slipping his fingers beneath the bandana and tugging it free. Liquid pressed it to his nose and mouth, inhaling deeply before secreting it away in one of the many pockets of his coat. He wanted a souvenir of this little encounter, a memory of when he had his brother completely at his mercy.

Liquid scrutinized his brother's face closely, a finger under his chin holding him in place. Then he frowned deeply and worked an alcohol wipe from his pocket, tearing opening the package with his teeth and wiping a small spot on Solid's neck clean, preparing him. Liquid withdrew a small syringe from one of the many pockets in his coat, depressing the plunger and watching a bit of the fluid spurt out of the sharp tip before plunging it into his Solid's neck, sighing as he did so. Solid's mouth twitched slightly in his sleep, but he didn't stir from his slumber.

Liquid wished he could leave Solid with the memory of this little encounter, having found it to be a mutually enjoyable one, but alas, it would be far too risky. It was much better this way.

Tossing the spent syringe into the hazardous waste can where he'd discarded the towel, he slid the door open. Much to his dismay, he found Ocelot leaning against the wall outside, a knowing smirk curving his mouth beneath his white mustache.

"Well, well. You were in there for quite awhile. I'm sure those security tapes will be absolutely fascinating." Ocelot said, twirling the index finger of his remaining hand as though there was something spinning on it, though the only thing on his hand was his trademark red glove.

Liquid tossed his hair haughtily, feeling his cheeks darken with a light flush. "I told you what I was doing in there. What are you doing skulking about out here, anyway?"

"I have a prisoner in there that could be withholding valuable information." Ocelot reminded him, jerking his head towards the door. Liquid scratched his nose, and Ocelot's eyes narrowed, his hand snaking out and catching him by the wrist. "What's this?"

Ocelot rubbed a gloved finger curiously over the smear of Solid's blood on the back of his hand. Liquid's face colored a deep red and he yanked his arm back, other hand frantically tugging his gloves out of his pocket and pulling them on, covering up the incriminating stain. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing, a slight nosebleed. Nothing more. Anyway, what about you? Did you ever figure out how to wank off with your left hand?"

Ocelot's pale eyes glimmered with amusement, moving closer. "Why? Are you offering to help?"

Liquid snorted, stalking past him. "You would have to jerk off with my cold, dead hand before I would ever touch you, Ocelot."