[Fic] Annoy Me
Title: Annoy Me
Rating: Explicit
Characters: Kazuhira Miller, Revolver Ocelot
Fandom: Metal Gear Solid
[AO3]
Kaz will take any sort of upper hand he can get. Even when it annoys the hell out of him.
“Would you stop that?”
The sound of leather-clad fingertips tapping on a metal tabletop abruptly stops. After five minutes of tapping, Kaz could only tolerate the annoyance for so long. The frustrated sigh coming from the man next to him makes his mouth quirk in a small smile. He’ll gleefully take his little wins where he can. The bickering, no matter how minute, helps him stay calm in the audio haze of white noise.
Kaz is aware that his anger is getting the better of him. His bi-weekly check-ups with the medical staff have warned him about stress and high blood pressure. It’s the frustration of being so useless, while also being the XO. He could do more and his advice was sound. However, the past few instances of Venom ignoring him were grating on whatever was left of his patience. Even now, he feels the echo of pain from the strain he was putting on his body.
It’s been mentioned that if he clenches his jaw any harder, he’ll crack his teeth.
Thankfully, the tapping does not continue. He finally looks across the table at the perpetrator. Ocelot looks nowhere near as put-out as Kaz had assumed. That sigh must have been for show. No, instead, Ocelot was leaning forward in his chair, chin in hand, smiling smugly at him. And for what?! He must be doing this just to piss him off.
There’s a silent standstill between the two of them. It’s like every moment comes down to a duel scene from those cheesy westerns Ocelot tries to imitate. As if the two of them were standing across a dusty road waiting for the quickdraw. It’s Ocelot who moves first this time, keeping eye contact as he adjusts the radio headset over his head. Kaz could feel his hackles rise.
Ocelot’s nonchalance only adds to his ire.
This silence doesn’t last long enough. Ocelot, for all he is like his namesake, likes to toy with his prey. He pushes boundaries in a way that would be admirable if it weren’t normally used with someone in the interrogation chair. Kaz has to admit the man has skill, but he also understands that skill could be used against him.
It’s only a couple of minutes of awkward silence before Ocelot leans over the table to point his gloved finger between Kaz’s eyes.
“You know, you should just relax and put your faith in the Boss. There’s no reason to be so high-strung about this.”
Kaz is about to retort, but decides against it. All of these small annoyances be damned. His patience is so thin at the moment that he quells the urge to bite back on the tip of his tongue. He’s just one big ball of anger and stress with no outlet. He knows acting out won’t solve any of his problems, so he lets out a deep breath and brings a hand to rub his temple in frustration.
“There. You see? No need to go against everything I say. It’s not… well, I guess it is an unspoken competition, but…” Ocelot smiles; nothing smug about it this time. “In the end, he’ll make a decision and call if he needs us.”
Kaz watches as Ocelot, the cheeky little shit, tentatively pulls Kaz’s hand away from his head to rest flat on the table. Then pats it.
What an ass.
He looks down, watching as Ocelot’s hand slowly moves up and down from fingertip to wrist in a soothing gesture. There are waves of pressure being applied as he moves, like some kind of half-assed massage.
“You just need to sit back and relax. You’re going to give yourself an aneurysm before this whole mission ends.”
“Ocelot, I’m not that bad.”
“Says the man who has been audibly grinding his teeth for the past two hours.”
Kaz is quickly reminded of the ache running up his jawline. So maybe Ocelot is right. He is working himself up into an early grave. He hates to admit it, but everything that he has been involved in recently has made him irrationally angry. Not that anyone would really blame him. Their men were certainly sympathetic to his mood swings, but he also needed to pull himself together to set an example.
However, he was allowed his anger, even when it was a detriment to himself.
The hand massaging him slowly moves up Kaz’s radius, pressing just a bit deeper into the muscle, causing a grunt to spill from the back of Kaz’s throat. Ocelot’s fingers work the knot efficiently, quickly working up his biceps to his shoulder. Always the professional, always so reliable; Ocelot was a stellar worker. Kaz knows how it’s all bullshit front; the dedication, the “holier than thou” attitude… but then Ocelot does things like this. These weirdly altruistic actions keep Kaz wondering what his aim is.
Ultimately, it’s all for Big Boss. How much of it is Ocelot just obeying orders? How much of it is something of his own volition? It’s too much to think about right now, while his shoulders were getting what was developing into a decent massage.
Ocelot's knuckle slowly rolls into Kaz’s knotted tissue. He exhales, feeling the tension dissipate as the muscle loosens. Kaz allows him to keep going, almost relishing in the touch at this point.
Kaz had once craved people’s attention. Before the fall of MSF, he would seek women out just to fulfill that need. Now, he could barely tolerate the brush of a uniform against his billowing jacket. Losing his limbs, his livelihood, did something to his psyche; he knows this. But he does not feel like there is anyone he would feel comfortable relying on. Not like he didn’t trust his men, but this wasn’t something he could talk to any of them about.
The best he has right now are Venom and Ocelot.
So he allows this simple touch.
The call comes in. A confirmed mission complete. Ocelot stops massaging as Kaz relays the call for Pequod, confirming with Venom that his pickup is on the way.
“Great job, Boss. Now call in a chopper to get ready for the next mission.”
There’s a slight hesitancy on the other end of the radio that tells both Kaz and Ocelot that Venom will likely be out longer. It’s not a problem, Kaz answers before relaying commands over the base radio to expect supply drops incoming. With the conversation over, he takes the headset off his head and drops his hand to the table with a thump.
Ocelot looks at him with a grin. He knew what was coming next and wasn’t really subtle about it.
“Got some time to kill now.”
“Mmn.”
“Come on, Miller, ya can’t always be a stick in the mud.”
It takes him a moment, but Kaz decides to take a deep breath before letting it out from between his teeth. He leans back in his chair just enough to keep sitting straight and closes his eyes. Ocelot takes this as his cue to stand behind him. His gloved hands are soft and warm, resting gently on both of his shoulders. It takes only a moment before Ocelot’s thumbs are gently pressed into tense muscles, slowly working the knots out.
In the back of his throat, Kaz could barely keep the groan of relief down. He did not realize just how worked up he was. Ocelot’s fingers travel over the taut muscles of his neck and shoulders, and he leans back into the touch, gloves be damned. Kaz knows he has been a bit touch-starved, and this just proves it.
It has been months since he’d found anyone to be intimate with. Venom, at this moment, was relatively untouchable. His fellow soldiers, while doting on him with pure admiration, wouldn’t dare get this close to him. Not this time around and not with his baggage. His next best bet would be Ocelot. He couldn’t completely trust him, but at the same time, he was really the only one he could confide in.
“You need to clear your mind, Miller.”
Ocelot’s voice was low and rough. Kaz could feel the reverberation against where Ocelot was leaning against him. Kaz closes his eyes, focusing on the soothing results of his massage. Those hands went to work, slowly working out the tense muscles between his shoulder blades. Kaz lets out a gasp when Ocelot’s knuckle hits a particularly rough spot.
Kaz raises his hand to remove his sunglasses, placing them beside the headset on the table. He keeps his sensitive eyes closed, breathing out, doing his best to release as much tension as possible. He focuses on the touch, trying hard not to think of the man with his hands so close to his vulnerable neck.
This sort of thing wasn’t to be expected of a man like Ocelot, and it definitely wasn’t a job the Big Boss intended for him to do. He also couldn’t imagine that “placating Kaz” was one of Ocelot’s required jobs. Not with the kind of relationship they had; even in the beginning, when the trust was incredibly thin, but a lifeline all the same.
A knuckle was buried deep into one of Kaz’s shoulder blades. He lets out a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding, keeping his eyes closed as the pain goes away.
He hates to admit it, but he really misses simple human touch.
“Feeling better?”
Ocelot’s voice breaks the silence, drawing Kaz back from his thoughts. He mumbles a thick, “Yeah,” expecting the warm hands to draw back. What he didn’t expect was for those hands to slide forward from his shoulders towards his chest.
“We still have some time. You pent up? Need a little help with… y’know?”
Ocelot’s right hand dips down between his pectorals, his body leaning into Kaz’s head and back almost uncomfortably. Fingers reach right above his navel before slowly dragging back up. The implications of his actions are rather obvious to anyone with half a brain. Kaz leans his head back, looking up at Ocelot standing over him.
Ocelot’s hand did not go far down enough, he thinks as his hips involuntarily chase after it.
“At least you’re asking,” Kaz huffs out a laugh.
“And your answer?”
“Yeah.” A pause, “Yeah, sure.”
Hands that had been draped down the front of his shirt slowly, deliberately ran back over Kaz’s pecs. Fingertips dig into the muscle, massaging and pressing into the meat. It’s times like these he is glad he hasn’t lost too much muscle mass since his injuries. He won’t allow it. Fingers brush over Kaz’s nipples, his teeth biting into his lower lip at the sensation. Soon, Ocelot drags his gloved fingertips up over his shoulders before walking around to stand and face Kaz.
Ocelot’s left hand holds Kaz’s right shoulder steady as his right hand reaches down to start working at Kaz’s belt. There isn’t too much fanfare since they're working with time constraints. As soon as he is freed from his pants and briefs, he sighs again in relief. The soft leather of Ocelot’s gloves creates a unique tactile sensation.
Kaz lets out a guttural groan as he feels Ocelot’s hot breath over his half-hard erection. A gloved palm teases over the head of his cock in small swirling motions. His body must be eager for the touch as his hips seem to be involuntarily twitching in response. Ocelot’s left hand drags down his shoulder to cup under his pectoral and squeeze. Kaz’s breathing starts to become ragged.
He’d loathe to admit that Ocelot’s attention was causing his body’s reactions. But that was for future Kaz to worry about. The least he could do now was enjoy the handjob.
It doesn’t take long before he feels too warm in his uniform, his cock now full and heavy. He realizes he isn’t being manhandled by Ocelot’s left hand until he feels pressure to move his thighs further apart, the gloved thumb of his right hand running up under his shaft. His hips twitch in response to the touch before the head of his cock is suddenly engulfed in Ocelot’s mouth. Kaz feels the whine escape the back of his throat as his body’s instincts take over.
Ocelot holds his thighs firmly apart as Kaz’s hips bucked lightly into his mouth. The feeling of both tongue and the leather glove starts to become too much to handle, and it’s not long before Kaz’s body crests into orgasm. He comes into the tight, warmth of Ocelot's mouth. The low hum of satisfaction reverberates through him as Ocelot waits for him to finish.
Appreciative and intimate.
Kaz never knows what to make of moments like these. As he watches Ocelot lean back with a satisfied smile, he feels a mixture of disgust and arousal. His eyes follow Ocelot’s leather glove as he slowly drags it across his lower lip. Effectively, wiping away any spit or cum left behind.
“Better?”
Ocelot’s voice comes out a little hoarse. Kaz can’t help the little feeling of self-satisfaction that he was the one who caused it. He turns towards the clock on the wall, reminding himself that Venom is on his way back. Now wasn’t exactly the right time to fantasize how good Ocelot looks with his head between Kaz’s legs.
“Yeah, yeah. You’re good?”
There’s a slightly bitter laugh to come from Ocelot, but he responds as if that one small emotion never escaped its tightly held emotional captivity.
"Doesn't matter. He’ll be here to see you anyway.”
Ocelot stands up, hip cocked to the side, he’s noticeably half-hard and pointedly ignoring it as he straightens his clothing. Kaz looks down towards his lap. Tucking himself awkwardly back into his pants. He’s not ashamed by any means, but frustrated that he doesn’t exactly mind this.
He really doesn’t mind getting sucked off by Ocelot and, in fact, likes it when he sees what it does to him. He likes that Ocelot bends over to zip him up and tighten his belt without much of a glance in his direction.
Again, completely professional.
Devotion runs deep and Kaz wants to make sure he takes advantage of it.