An entirely unsurprising surprise
Here be the companion piece to Pud's awesome birthday art for Eirik. That's right, it's a double present! Very sorry for the belated-ness and LJ is still being slightly uncooperative, so I hope this posts at least now. Going to try for all the caps again in a minute as well; watch you-know-where for that. (ETA: Yep, here they are!)
Meanwhile...
Title: Until There's Light
Pairing: Big Boss/Zero
Rating: SFW
Word Count: ~480
Summary: Trust can be found in the smallest things.
Disclaimer: MGS belongs to Hideo Kojima & Konami.
Until There's Light
Major Zero rarely smoked. It was ironic; his own habit of enjoying a cigar now and then had ended up playing a vital part in the development of Jack's much less occasional fondness for the things, and now Zero carried his cigar tin around more for his friend's sake than his own. Sometimes, he'd make a private joke to himself about “corrupting the youth”, or at least the youth's lungs, with his decadent proclivities-a joke that he never shared with Jack, who was unlikely to decode sarcasm about good old England quite as well as Zero could. Too young, too practical, too preoccupied with living in the moment at the expense of everything else. It was what Snake was for.
As the sunlight crept across the bedding, Zero thought that he might live in the moment, too.
There was an almost unreal freshness to being just a man on a calm morning, seated at the edge of a bed half-dressed, watching the cigar between his fingers flare to life. Funny how the smoke only reminded him of Jack anymore. Not to mention that, right now, both were equally quiet.
A soldier at peace sounded uncomfortably close to an oxymoron, and yet Jack's current state looked perfectly natural as he lay on his side on the covers, taking up space like some bizarre specimen of a cat enjoying a well-earned bout of relaxation. His hands were curled into loose fists beside his head, vaguely mirroring his overall position. The tentative light painted his features softer, somehow; his face was almost fully obscured by his messy hair, his eyepatch out of sight, his skin slowly becoming golden as the sunrise outside gathered momentum. The steady rise and fall of his outline was the only source of motion that Zero could detect. He didn't even seem to be dreaming.
Sighing, Zero reached out and drew his discarded jacket over the other's bare torso, the gesture more affectionate than he cared to admit. It was not that he didn't appreciate Jack while the latter was awake-the night that was just lifting could serve as a testament to that-but to get this almost reckless trust from him now was something utterly humbling. Bittersweet as well, recalling that last mission. It was a wonder, come to think of it, that they were together in this room at all.
Zero had to face the other way, unable to look at the man any longer. A little cigar ash had found its way to the floor in the meantime-had he managed to get so distracted? He smoked more diligently, studying the wall for a while instead. Then he turned back to his sleeping companion, brushing wayward strands of hair out of his face. He didn't stand a chance of disguising that as anything but tenderness, now.
And once again, Jack didn't stir.