Parasnake would have made a good tragic couple. They'd bonded not over a shared trauma, but because they had had a genuine interest to each othet and worked together a lot afterwards.
Only that over the years Big boss became more and more focused on fulfilling The Boss's will to pay attention to anything, and Paramedic went further into science, progressing from believing that experiments on humans are unethical to cloning her lover and using Gray Fox as a test subject.
They eventually went from having movie dates whenever possible and to barely talking to each other. Especially after 1972, before Les Enfants Terribles they could still somehow try to improve relations again but not after.
Parasnake. TW(?): medical. TL;DR: Para-Medic tries to palpate Snake, but his boobs are too fat.
Word count: 523
"Do we have to do this?" Snake asked behind her. Para-Medic was turning her back to him; she tried to give him a semblance of privacy. Two people created the crowd effect in the tiny military medical office.
"Yes. You've been putting off the examination for too long." One would think she intended to cut open his rib cage on the spot rather than percuss and palpate the heart area with how stubborn he was about that.
"I guarantee you, I'm fine, Para-Medic. I would have noticed if I had heart problems."
"Just because you're not having a stroke every five minutes doesn't mean you don't have a problem. It just means your heart is very good at compensating. The examination will give a clear answer."
When she turned around, Snake was already shirtless, wearing only his pants—Naked Snake was quite fitting right now. Para-medic scanned his torso to assess the area of work. She had underestimated the size of his... pectoral muscles.
Anatomy books didn't correspond to reality: a corpse drawn in the ideal of physiological capabilities never could resemble a living, blood-filled, imperfect body. But Snake. Snake did look like the drawings. This was one of the reasons she wanted to keep looking at him and studying him.
"Well. Obviously, you don't have any chest deformities—" "Told ya." "—so we can move on to the next part. Stand up." Snake stood up with absolutely no enthusiasm.
"First comes the apical pulse. This is the chest wall oscillation because of heart's apex strikes it during systole. It's the most accurate place to determine someone's pulse. I'll auscultate there later." Para-medic knew Snake wasn't that interested in medicine, but he still let her talk as much as she wanted, and he could always repeat everything she said afterwards.
She put her palm on his left pec, her fingers curled and touched the intercostal space. Snake's muscles complied under the pressure of her hand. "Take a deep breath."
The heart beat rhythmically, subtly as he inhaled.
"It's unremarkable." Besides the fact that it was Snake, every part of which was especially significantly remarkable.
"Thanks for the compliment."
"You know what I meant. There's a parasternal pulsation now."
"This is also the chest wall oscillation, but due to ventricles striking." Para-Medic placed the palm on the upper part, closer to the sternum.
The problem was, even if the right ventricle was audible, she wouldn't have heard it; Snake's muscles and fat were this thick.
"Something wrong?" Snake said after she'd been silent and motionless for a little longer than usual.
"Nothing." She pressed her fingers harder, trying to feel his ribs through all those muscles perfected by years of training, and genetics (and radiation, probably). She didn't hear anything; still, she ran her fingertips down his skin to make sure there was no right ventricular hypertrophy. Really.
Snake pulled her forward, his arms wrapping around her waist. Para-medic yelped. "Maybe you can test my heart another way," he said.
"Snake!" He had already reached his hands below her back, not giving her time to think about anything. "At least let me lock the door!"
