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Tuesday's Gone	By : trowacko Category: +M through R > Metal Gear Views: 2604 -:- Recommendations : 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.

Chapter List
- 1-Tuesday's Gone
- 1
Title - Tuesday's Gone

Author - trowacko

Rating - NC17

Warnings - "incest", voyeurism

Disclaimers - I do not own Metal Gear Solid in any way, nor do I make a claim
to. No profit, no harm done.

It'd been a long time since he'd been held as close - long enough that Hal
couldn't rightly recall when last he'd felt that level of comfort. The fact
that his stepmother was as naked as himself was quite beside the point. The
feel of his fingers slipping inside her as she clung to him didn't matter. He
was held in a way his father couldn't hold him, nor his own
mother had ever done. The woman in his bed smelled of soap and freshly
washed hair that was still damp from the shower. Her skin had already lost the
smoothness of youth, and had acquired a firm softness accentuated by
floral-scented lotion. She had called him 'son' for most of the day, though it
was now his name that she gasped against his ear in the same loving tones as
she writhed against him. In her arms he felt safe, he felt loved, and he felt
desire that wouldn't be sated by guiltily jerking off under the covers.

"Mother?" he whispered, feeling a sudden rush throughout his body at
the pleading tone. It wanted to be guilt and confusion. In his new mother's
embrace, it was love.

Julie pulled back to regard her stepson fondly. "You don't have to say
that," she replied softly. She manipulated his body, depositing the boy
between her knees, his fingers still planted within her. Pulling him up, she
parted her legs, one hand snaking between them to fondle his growing erection.
It was still a boy's length that would soon become a man's, and she played with
it with careful strokes, measuring it for future reference.

Mother.

The boy's mind was lost, in the fragile surfaces where his mother resided,
Julie took her place. The same smile, the same kind eyes. Only he would have
never done anything like this with her. Right? he questioned himself, suddenly afraid his mother's memory
would answer that of course she would have. There wasn't an answer when he felt
his stepmother curl her legs around his waist. He whimpered, watching himself
enter Julie's body that faded away to his mother's visage. A woman barely
deceased who watched him with a predatory gleam in her eyes. Then she was gone,
a body without a face when he shut his eyes to shut her out. He didn't want to
see either of them, only revel in the sensation of plunging into a willing
body, and of hot wetness clamped around his cock. He rode her with the fumbling
thrusts of a virgin, his voice broken in a keening wail that he didn't try to
hide. His hands slipped from her breasts to plant him firmly against the
mattress. Their bodies bucked against each other, intertwined in the throes of
passion, and mated together with their sin.

"Mother!" he cried out, shuddering helplessly as his too excited body
spilled his seed into her. Horrified, he tried to pull away as if by doing so
what he did could be undone. Instead,

mother

Julie held him prisoner with her legs, rocking him and murmuring against his
hair. Were it not for the feel of his now soft dick still inside her, he would
have heard his mother the same way she'd sing him to sleep. He did want to
sleep, to forget fucking his father's bride in his own bed while her husband
was at work. The lady who succeeded a dead woman then seduced her son.

"Shh," she soothed, clamping against the
wonderful intruder in her body. The boy had the vigor of youth, much unlike his
father whose too slow pace had been nearly driving her mad. She caressed the
young man's cheeks, wiping away the trail of tears that had leaked from one and
kissed him sweetly. Tilting his head back, she parted his lips with her tongue
and slipped it inside, tasting him, marking him with a kiss that he would
remember when he kissed anyone else.

Does anyone know how to kiss you like mommy does?

Smiling, she finally released his dick, and held the boy close. "Shh," she murmured again, holding his head against her
breast and stroking his back comfortingly. When his troubled face relaxed into
slumber, she slipped out of his bed and went to her own room to shower and get
ready for bed. Marital counseling, she thought bitterly. There was no need for
it anymore.

-----------

"She came to me a lot after that. I rarely sought her out - I was afraid
she'd tell me no, or that it wasn't real. But she didn't care if I called her
mother when we fucked. She said she kind of liked it."

Snake chewed his lower lip for a moment, contemplating. When Otacon didn't continue he glanced up to see his partner
looking at him with wide, pleading eyes.

"Do you understand?"

"Go on," he replied. He touched the pack in his breast pocket,
thought better of it and settled back on the couch.

"I used to play 'house' with E.E. in the back yard. She used to say I'd
make a good husband because I made her a good wife." Otacon
chuckled at the memory, his eyes getting the far-off look that indicated he was
sinking into his story, reliving it the same way he unconsciously stroked his
confined erection when talking of screwing his father's wife.

Snake took out the pack and lit up a new one with the butt of the old one. If
he had a bottle of whiskey handy, he would have forsaken the shot glass
completely by now, he thought randomly.

----------

Emma wanted them to share a bed, just like a good husband and wife did. She'd
persisted until he'd finally relented, squeezing himself next to her in the
undersized bed of the play set when it was time to play. Her eyes were always
screwed tightly shut as she pretended to sleep, and he could often see her lips
twitch as she counted to thirty so they could start their new day as a couple.
Indulgently, Hal closed his own eyes and laid a hand over her stomach, holding
one of her small hands. When thirty seconds had come and gone, he realized she
hadn't 'waken him up' yet. He opened his eyes to see
her looking back at him, her face unreadable.

"Is it morning yet?" he teased, faking a yawn and moving to stretch.
Instead, Em reached for him, a little hand smoothing
his hair from his forehead.

"What else do husbands and wives do in bed?"

Hal blinked in shock. Stuttering, he hauled himself off the bed, nearly tipping
it and its occupant over in the process.

"E.E., why do you want to know that?"

The young girl got up and walked to her little kitchen and went through the
motions of putting a pot on the stove and mixing imaginary ingredients.

"I don't know. It's only sleeping, isn't it? What else is there?"

Relief swept over the young man in cold waves. "Yeah, E.E., it's only
sleeping. Don't worry about it."

She turned around, raising herself up to her full eight-year old height.

"Then why can't I sleep with you? Mom and Dad sleep together."

"Mom and Dad are different. I'm too old to do stuff like that with you,
and you're too young to understand."

Emma pouted, crossing her arms and ignoring the toys around her.

"But Mom gets to sleep with you too," she accused petulantly.

Hal nearly fell over the dining set as he stumbled backwards. There was never a
time when E.E. should have seen them, he thought frantically. He was more
careful than Julie in that respect; it was better for his sister not to know.
Still, he knew there had been plenty of times...

"What... what have you seen?" he asked, voice robbed of strength by
the terror of his little sister watching her brother fuck her mother.

Instead of answering, the girl walked across the set and dropped to her knees
in the grass in front of her brother.

"Like this," she replied matter of factly
as she pressed her face against her brother's crotch. She looked up at him, the
innocence of youth staring at him. For a fleeting moment, he wished he had that
look again. "You have to take your pants off, or I can't show you."

Hal shook his head, backing away. This time, his legs connected with the dining
table and he fell over it. The plastic chairs tumbled under his weight and he
felt his body battered by various toys before he finally lay still on the cool
grass.

"Big brother?" she asked worriedly, dashing to his side. The back
door opened and Julie stepped out calling for the two children.

"I'm okay," he croaked.

"It's getting late," Julie called when Hal shakily stood up.

She beckoned them with the same gesture she gave him before he slid into bed
next to her. Shivering, he brushed off his clothes and followed young Emma into
the house. It wasn't until later, when her hand had gripped his length, thumb
caressing and flicking across the head that he felt guilt stab him full force.

"E.E. saw us yesterday," he whispered. His mother's hand stopped and
she glanced toward the closed door.

"How do you know?"

Hal's abrupt laughter seemed to surprise them both. For a child as old as he,
his grasp on the wider world had crept up on him, letting him taste sarcasm
enough to enjoy its bite.

"She saw you blowing me before I showered. I don't know what else she
saw."

Like me fucking you against the sink right after that.

"She's only a little girl, she wouldn't understand."

Think she saw me letting you slide one of your dinner candles up my ass in
the living room before Dad came home?

"She'll figure it out eventually. Or she'll ask Dad."

Maybe even about the time I had my tongue buried in you and you fucked my
face on his bed when he was in the shower.

"Don't worry about such things," Julie smiled. She slipped the boy
into her mouth, marveling at the change in width from the first time she'd
bedded him.

Does daddy know what you do when he's away? Does he know you like hearing
'mommy' whimpered when you ride his son?

"I'm not the one who should be worried," Hal replied, his seventeen
years serving him well as he thrust himself into Julie's mouth, causing her to
gag.

Angry, Julie fell back and wiped her mouth. "Don't do that again,"
she warned. She got up, intent on dishing out some punishment when she caught
his disinterested gaze. Any other time she coerced him to her bed or his, he was always excited and nervous, eager to please and
willing to take any punishment for misbehaving. It was very unlike him to walk
to the bed and climb in without permission. Very unlike her
to simply follow suit, shifting until he lay atop her.

"E.E. was very pretty today," he remarked, burying himself into Julie
with a hard thrust. He leaned down to tease her nipples with his tongue,
nipping and suckling at them. "She's outgrowing her dresses, I've noticed."
Moving to the other breast, he gave it the same treatment, looking up so she
could see his eyes.

"Why are you talking?" she panted. Her hips rocked against him, but
he wasn't moving. Having his dick in her was part of the pleasure, and she
hadn't dragged him to her bed for conversation.

"She's getting to be so pretty. I thought you would have noticed too is
all."

Forsaking conversation, he pumped against her, burying himself as far as he
could before pulling back and thrusting again. His eyes closed as they usually
did, his body arched as he claimed his stepmother. It was like the first time
he had sex with her, only this time the haunting image of E.E. floated to the
surface and he shuddered, knowing her small breasts would require little more than
a lick before they stiffened. He knew when he slipped his fingers into her body, she wouldn't already be wet like Julie always was.
Would she be big enough to take him in? Her pretty little mouth...

"I can't," he whimpered, biting his lip as he rode his lover, his
father's wife. He fell against her chest, slowing his thrusts and working for
depth, to ram her deep enough into the mattress that the impression couldn't be
ignored when his father took his place later that night.

E.E. -- Emm--

Julie slapped him hard across the face.

Surprised, he nearly pulled out and barely noticed when he came inside her. His
lover grabbed fistfuls of his hair, whipping him back and forth.

"You son of a bitch!" she hissed, her voice broken and afraid.
Despite her sudden violence, her legs were still around him, her hips still
bucking up against him, milking him. Just like she always did. Her body
shuddered with the force of her orgasm and she clutched him against her chest
as she rode it out. The sounds of her sobbing coupled with his harsh gasps
sounded too loud in the dark bedroom. Not loud enough to cover the squeak of
the door or the equally sharp intake of breath from
one woman's husband and her lover's father.

-----------

"Everything went wrong that night. The official report was a heart attack,
but that doesn't account for the back of his head being blown out. He had to
have known for a long time - he only never caught us before. Or maybe he was
afraid to."

Snake ground the cigarette out in the ashtray, tapping out the stray embers
that broke free. They sat in silence for a while and Snake liked that just
fine. He would have looked at his partner, except he knew something was
expected of him and he didn't want to see it. With a sigh, Otacon
took to pacing around the small room.

"Mother said she had to think about things and took E.E. away from me. I
lost everything that night, but the only one I regretted losing the most was
E.E."

"Why?"

That time Otacon blinked in surprise. It seemed
obvious to him. "She was my little sister. She'd always be my little
sister. I did what I did to protect her--"

"From you?"

Otacon fumbled with words, angry and hurt.
"What? I-- What are you saying? No! She was just curious, too curious to
understand--"

"That's why you called out her name when you were fucking her mother?
Unless you've forgotten that part of the story you just told me."

Realization crept over the other man's features as he mentally backtracked his story. He didn't mean to say - didn't want it to be true then or now, but it was too late
to lie. Oh, maybe lying was never an option. He fell to his knees in front of
Snake, his hands clutching at the man's jeans.

"I didn't - I never..."

"When you first came to my bed, did you offer yourself to me because you
wanted to repent a little? Needed to take it up the ass to make it
better?"

Either way didn't particularly matter, but Snake didn't feel the need to
mention it. The man sobbing into his lap was the same man he bedded yesterday,
the one who watched his back and made sure he didn't get dead on some mission.
At night with the thinner man's arms around his waist, he felt complete. Alive and complete. But neither constituted love, he
reasoned.

"I wanted you," Hal sobbed. Seemingly unable to help himself, his
fingers fumbled for the snap and zipper of the jeans. Snake watched detachedly
while Otacon undid his pants, and slipped him free.
Within moments, his cock was buried in Otacon's
mouth, under a tear-streaked face that seemed to seek approval.

Lips clamped expertly, Otacon sucked on his dick, his
tongue laving with practiced paths over his flesh, urging him to harden. His
eyes remained intent on Snake's as if conveying something important merely by
look alone.

You can call me brother. If you want.

Shoving the other man away from him, cock already aching with
need-

Damn him for knowing how to be so good! he
mentally growled. Snake flipped the man over and pinned him to the floor. Using
his headband as an impromptu bind, he tied the man's hands behind his back.
Removing his pants was easy; Otacon rarely wore
anything that required a zipper, let alone buttons.

"Get up," he ordered sitting back. Otacon
got to his knees, preparing to sit up when Snake put a restraining hand against
his back, keeping his lover tied with his ass high, his face pressed against
the cool metal floor.

"I need to ask you a few questions now," he advised, positioning
himself behind Otacon. He gave his dick a few pumps
to get fluid to seep from the tip. Flicking it against his lover's ass, he smeared
the essence around the entrance before slipping a pair of fingers in.

"Yes," Otacon gasped, clenching and
unclenching his muscles as he felt himself explored. They plunged down to the
last knuckle, sending jolts into the pit of his gut, painful and delicious.

"Like saying 'mommy' when fucking your mother?"

"She wasn't--" a quick stab, less enticing than the first
decided lying was very much not an option. "Yes!" he cried out,
wriggling against the invaders.

"Did you ever kiss your sister the way your mother kissed you?"

Otacon's thoughts were hazy for a moment, but he
worked diligently on sifting through the jumble of memories.

"No, no--"

"That's enough. When I'm fucking you, do you want to call me
brother?"

The fingers pulled free, replaced slowly by the comfortable girth of Snake's
cock. Otacon moaned as he felt himself filled. The
feeling in his belly was heavy enough that he almost spilled himself against
the floor. Having his hands tied made it hard to move, but he tried thrusting
backwards nonetheless.

"You didn't answer the question," Snake reminded him.

"I-- what? I--- Snake, please..."

The pace was almost leisurely in the way Snake pumped into his lover. He didn't
bother with untying the other man's hands to finish himself
off, and neither did he feel the inclination to pump him off himself.

"Answer the question." Snake increased his pace, pummeling Otacon against the floor. He adjusted himself after a few
thrusts when his lover's body shifted a bit and resumed claiming Otacon's body. "When I fuck you, do you want to call
me brother?"

Otacon gave into his body's demands. Widening his
stance, he rode out the pleasure building in his body as he tasted the name on
his lips. Like always, he thought randomly, thinking of Julie.

"Yes!" he gasped, afraid he'd feel Snake pull out. Instead, the depth
of the thrusts increased, slamming into him with bright sparks of ecstasy that
he drank greedily. "Yes!"

"Then say what it is you want to say. Your hands are bound and you can't
bite your knuckles like you always do."

Otacon whimpered, biting his lip, but it was
impossible to keep it up, even after he tasted blood. His voice built in ragged
hitches until thought caught up with sound.

"Yes! Brother!" he panted, letting a string of curses interlaced his
cries. "Brother... I want you to fuck me. Please. Please..."

The grip Snake had on Otacon's hips were bruising. He
left off one to grasp the juncture of his lover's bound hands, using the
leverage to bring them closer together as his orgasm hit him. Teeth clenched,
he rode it out until he didn't care how much of his seed crawled down Otacon's thighs. Untying the younger man's hands, he got
up, hitching his pants closed and zipping them up. Otacon
got to his knees shakily, turning around to smile up at his lover.

"Thank you, brother," he moaned, reaching for Snake.

"I'm not your brother," Snake replied abruptly, turning away to
gather his few belongings.

"But you-- then why? Why did you say I could call
you brother?"

"If sex is better - and it was - when you call the man fucking you your
brother, you've got the wrong guy for the job."

"Then why?!"

Why did you ruin it all?

Snake shrugged. "Sometimes knowing you could fuck your own brother is
useful knowledge."

-----------------

At the funeral, few people had stopped by to offer
condolences, perhaps understanding the nature of the suicide was something best
left unexplored. On the way back from the service, Julie had pulled him into an
embrace, weeping against his shoulder, fingers digging painfully into his
shoulders as she cried. When they were back home, she
didn't bother taking off the lovely black dress before she shoved him against
the bed she'd shared with his father. She left no quarter for him to object
when the hem was jerked upwards, her underwear and stockings shoved down and
away. His freshly pressed suit didn't even leave his body before she was
atop him, fumbling to pull out his guilty erection, and planting herself on it
even as tears streaked down her face. It was still love, he knew, when he
whimpered for his mother, his own tears left ignored while their bodies mated.
The last time he made love to her was the day they buried his father. When he
was shipped off to a distant school the next day, he knew it was the last he'd
see of the woman or her child. The day after his beloved E.E. died, he
confessed his sins and love to the brother he cherished. Somehow he thought it
appropriate that he wept when he watched Snake, the only brother he knew he'd
ever have, walk out the door.

*just because it comes from the mind of a wacko, doesn't
necessarily mean it's insane*
- 1
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Tuesday's Gone