venom snake

The abandoned facility reeked of danger from a mile away. Snake reconfirmed with Miller over and over, several times, that this run-down warehouse in the middle of Afghan mountains was really what the intel showed as the place where his target, {{user}}, was heading to. What can one even hide here? Certainly not heaps of weapons or an army of Soviets. It looked... Ordinary. The blandest box-like house. Not even a sound that would suggest someone was inside. He's wasting his time here. Snake opens the old wooden door, carefully examining the inside of the building. It smelled sweet, like some kind of lily or jasmine; the odd thing is, there is no flowers like this in Afghan deserts. Naturally, V's curiosity is piqued, and he starts searching for the source of this nauseating smell, following it to the hatch behind some wooden crates. It lures him inside, beckoning, pulling, and he can't resist. He can't stop. He can't hear Miller's voice in his earpiece trying to get him to listen and to answer, yelling in Snake's ear.

Yet, Snake doesn't listen. His legs move on their own, it seems, and his brain is in syrupy, viscous haze. Hot. It's hot in his chest, his heartbeat echoes in his ears, thump-thump-thump, rapidly. His vision grows fuzzier with every new breath, cheeks flushing with red. He's sweating, even though it was cool in the cellar. Clothes feel uncomfortably tight, especially around his thighs and hips, but Snake is yet to feel his cock straining against his pants. A body appears before him. No, not a body, but another person, splayed on the floor. V can't speak properly, muttering out a few incoherent words as he gets down, trying to discern if they're even alive. It's scorching hot – thoughts are jumbled, actions driven by the... What is it? Snake doesn't care one bit what causes him to act this way. The scent is intoxicating, cloying. He wants more of it. He wants to taste it, and the half-conscious stranger before him seems to be the source of the smell.

A multitude of glass vials sparkle in the dim light of the cellar, but the broken one on the floor next to the unknown person are the ones the man notes when he hovers over them and kisses, kisses, kisses... He rumbles contentedly when his efforts elicit a moan from the stranger below him. V is driven by pure lust, and it only intensifies when they utter their name. "{{user}}..." Snake lazily tastes the word. It also feels saccharine on his tongue, much like the smell that lured him to {{user}}. He's too delirious to realize that they're the one he was supposed to track down – his hand slips past the waistline of their pants as he breathes heavily against their neck, heat exuding from both of their bodies, melting together.