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The Musher

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Wind whipped over the frozen snowscape, the air clear and cold with the evening approaching. Over the howling of the wind was one other noise-the yipping of dogs, distant but growing louder. A musher approaching. Who was that? Oh, it was Solid Snake.

He was wearing a warm parka, the hood pulled up and obscuring his face. Okay, so you couldn’t tell it was him, except for that his mushing gear said S.S. on the side and he was shouting. Shouting at the dogs to slow down.

“Woah.”

His voice was what clearly identified him. It was pleasantly gravely and almost sultry, a voice that could only belong to a hardened war-hero-gone-rogue. It’d been years since the actual war and yet his voice still carried the tone of someone who knew things and hid them, someone who commanded. This, among many things, was why the dogs recognised him as their alpha. They slowed to a stop, still yipping and tangling in their leashes.

Snake stepped off the sled and set to releasing each dog from their harnesses, a simple act of caring for them. The dogs had worked hard today, hauling him across the lake to the outpost and back with groceries. Good dogs, they were. Loyal. Hearts in the right place, honest, hard working. The dogs meant more to him than most people

Releasing the last few dogs, he began dragging the sled closer to the door. Some things could be left outside, like his Mint Chip ice cream, but most of it needed to be brought in and Snake was in no mood for a second trip. But as he approached the door, he noticed something off. The Navy Seals instinct was kicking in. He kicked them out and dialed in the high tech passcode to his shack. With a beep, the lock opened and he stepped inside, reaching back to collect what groceries he could and bringing them to the kitchen.

The shack was relatively shack-ish, except for the lock. Snake was no man for luxurious living. He carried in soup and potatoes, granola, milk. The cold items he put in his makeshift freezer, a pantry sort of built into the ground which was insulated from the outside extreme cold and from the warm of the inside.

To punctuate having gotten all the groceries, he snap kicked the door shut and whipped off the hood of his parka. Now his face was revealed, and all those who doubted his identity were now being laughed at because it was definitely Snake. His handsomely rugged face was shaded in stubble which pronounced his jawline and cheekbones more fully, and was framed by his fashionably unkempt brunette tresses. He tucked an aforementioned tress behind his ear, his fingerless gloves catching the light with their smooth leather. He was not wearing his headband because of his hood, and noticing this, he searched his parka pockets for it in a way that seemed cool and purposeful. Finding it, he wrapped it around his forehead, completing his look.

Now unhooded, Snake began to notice that it was still cold. Ah yes, he needed to build a fire.

Silly Snake! .

The sooner he made a fire, the sooner he could warm up with a cup of Masculine Man War-Time Tea and snuggle up with a cup of soup. Living alone he could indulge in such out of character behaviors, and after the long hard day he could think of no other way to make a better evening. Well, there was one way. But that way had left him long ago for Scully.

He quickly wiped his eyes for tears, but there were none. (thank god) If only he could forget that disastrous mistake! Even when he didn’t think about the incident directly it plagued him, like a plague that was plaguing him. He fumbled around the chain on his neck to find the locket, holding it in his hand, savoring its preciousness. Just one look…

No. He couldn’t.

He redirected his attention to the fire, which was beginning to eat at the pieces of neatly shaved wood he’d thrown in. The warm flickering flames helped to soothe his aching heart just slightly, and he sighed dramatically. There was no use entertaining old flames, no pun intended. Fox had probably forgotten him by now. What had it been, eight years?? Yes, there was really no point. Fox was dead to him now, as he was dead to Fox. He stood up and picked up more wood for the fire, which was starting to come along real nice.

Suddenly, his Navy Seals ears tuned into a sound outside of the creaking of his shack. Specifically, something hitting against the shack. There were no trees nearby...maybe something was being blown in the storm? He got up, startled. The sound was familiar.

A muffled voice cut through the silence.

“FBI!! OPEN UP!!”

OH!! OH NO!!

Snake quickly reached for his Big Game Hunting Knife and Tommy Gun, both of which were resting on the couch where he’d been cleaning and reloading them that morning, in case of such an emergency. Putting them both in one hand, he unlocked the deadbolt, then the door, hand on the knob and ready to throw it open and shoot the hell out of who-or what-ever it was. He took a deep breath in and whipped it open only to-


His breath caught in his throat. It couldn’t be….could it???

“Snake.”
It was Mulder. Well, you couldn’t exactly distinguish him from any other suited guy in an FBI parka, but everyone just knew it was him. Especially when he threw off his hood, revealing his gorgeous face. His hair was tousled and endearingly overgrown past it’s tailored white collar cut, shining obsidian in the moonlight. He looked tired but his hazel eyes shone cunningly, as if he’d just performed the best trick. Because that is what he’d just done.

“....Mulder…” Snake said, his voice tense with false courtesy.

“May I come in?”

“How did you find me?” Snake wasn’t going to let him in without an explanation.

“I have my ways.” Mulder winked obviously, if not a little excessively, to punctuate his statement. There was no way Snake could argue with a wink like that. But Snake was not an arguing man. He was a man who shot first and asked questions later. And now that he hadn’t shot even once, he felt disoriented and out of his element.

“You’re not welcome here.” Snake said threateningly, seemingly to remind himself. He held up his Tommy “Go away.”

“Woooaah!!” Mulder said, holding up his hands and taking a step and a half back “Watch it!!”

“Hmph” Snake replied, pointing out into the night time and firing a couple shots just to get it out. Mulder jumped a little.

“Where’s Scully.”

“U-Oh. Um. Let me in and I promise, I’ll explain.”

Snake shrugged to show that it meant very little to see his special friend after eight years, and turned on his heel, to hold the door open for Mulder to come inside. Mulder hurried in quick, and Snake pushed the door shut behind him. Laying his weapons on the kitchen table, Snake went back to the fire, throwing another log in. It was finally starting to get warm, and Snake shucked off his parka at the door. Mulder was way ahead of him though, already stripping off his boots for respect of Snake’s floors.

“It really is a shoes inside shack.” Snake muttered

“What?”

“Nothing. Are you hungry?”

“Just a little bit. I hiked in.”
“Sixty miles??”

“I started early, it wasn’t a big deal.”

To Snake this was a big deal, but he decided to let it slide. “I’ll make Tea.”

“How have you been, Snake?”

Snake didn’t even pause. “Good, what about you.”

“Oh. Well.” Mulder seemed minorly caught off guard. He probably expected more out of Snake. “Well, things have been interesting.”

“Eight years is interesting.” Snake reminded bitterly.

“Yeah. It is. About that…”

“Stop.” Snake retorted cleverly

Mulder sighed “Snake, listen. I’m here and you need to listen to what I’m going to say because it’s important. I don’t want to run in circles around what’s going on. Just...okay. Where do I begin. Hhhh…” Mulder seemed to get caught up in a flashback for a few minutes before continuing “Snake...I’ve missed you. A lot. It only took me a year with Scully to make me realize my mistake. I should have never given you up as a lover, but I was stupid. And it took me seven years to find myself and then find you. And I still haven’t found the truth.”

“The truth is out there.” Snake said casually, trying to ignore the burning lump of emotion in his throat.

“Dave….you’re my truth. I believe in you.” Mulder said quietly

Snake blushed fiercely. No one ever called him Dave. Or David, for that matter. The name brought back fond memories of those nights in Tahiti, when romance and candlelight brought them together on the sand. That night, in the midst of passion, Snake had spilled that his real name was Dave, and that Snake was a covert ops name he preferred to go by. Snake reached up to touch the locket around his neck, remembering once again.

“Are you still wearing my locket?”

Snake whipped around “NO. I mean. Yes.”

“I wear yours too.” Mulder reached into his long sleeve, form fitting exercise shirt to pull out his own locket. He held it gently in his hand before ripping the chain off with a sudden tug, and throwing it in the fire. Snake looked on in silent shock, his eyebrows raised.

“What, I don’t need it anymore.”

Snake shrugged at the logic but ripped off his own too, tossing it to Mulder to throw in the fire as well. Mulder caught the locket, then got up to take Snake’s hand.

“Have you really not done anything since I’ve been gone?”

Snake’s thoughts wandered back to his sex life before he realized that Mulder probably meant normal activities “Not really. I live off of the land here. I cut my own wood. If you know what I mean.”

“Oh I d-”

“I go out and chop it instead of going out and buying it, or having it shipped in. I mean, I’m a Navy Seal. I’m strong. I know how to chop my own damn wood.”

Fox looked uncomfortable. Fortunately, his dick was already out and Snake got the picture pretty quick.

“O-oh. I see. No tea then.”

“The only tea you’ll sip is the tea of my FBI seed, Snake.”

Snake blushed but held his ground “Mulder, this is my house. My dick gets first pick and its first pick is your ass.”

Mulder sighed

 

 

 

 

At this point, you’re wondering where the steamy awkward sex scene is. Sadly, I’m cutting this short simply because I’m in school and forgot to write the whole rest of the scene. I did promise, however, that I’d get this to you today so sorry about that. Just imagine this- they bring in the hot tea, someone gets burned in a sexy sort of way, and something to do with some rough anal. The fire makes things romantic and sweet.

Suddenly we switch back to the story to finish with a (literal) bang.

Mulder groaned “Unngh...Sn...Sc...SCULLY!” He gasped.

Snake ninja threw him off his ass in horror. He had almost forgiven Mulder, but those words threw all his forgiveness into the fire with their lockets. Mulder tumbled off of the kitchen counter, landing on the shack floor with a loud smack, like cold meat.

“hOW DARE YOU!!!”

Mulder stared at the linoleum in shame and sexual frustration. He really had blown it there. And not blown it. Neither way positively. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Then don’t say anything” Snake said quietly. He looked silently to the Tommy on the table and considered what might end this all. But he knew it was too predictable. “Just go. And don’t come back.”

Mulder, in his nakedness, scrambled to get up and brush off the soggy tea leaves from his naked body, and started reclothing himself. It really was disgusting, him being all sweaty and covered with various kitchen things but he didn’t seem to notice in his haste. Snake looked on from his confident position on the kitchen counter, as Mulder scrambled towards the door. He only had his socks half on, which made it take him a while to get his boots back on, and then his parka.

“It was good while it lasted.” Mulder said, finally. It seemed right for him to say something. But Snake was still too upset to respond, and kept his stoic steamy stare cold. Mulder opened the door, and gave kind of a half-assed wave before heading outside to where all the howling was coming from

Only then, did Snake remember-he hadn’t fed the dogs!!

He leapt off of the counter to the door, and ripped it open, a wave of cold air slapping him in the face. He could barely see anything with the wind everywhere, but the unmistakable scream of his ex lover rose over the savage barking of dogs. It was horrible.

Fortunately, Snake had seen and heard some shit in the several times he’d been in obscure wars. Coldness set over his heart, and his dick, and he closed the door silently, leaving Mulder to the forces of nature.

The fucking end.