route_1065 | //itsu no ma ni ka bokura nanigenaku deatta

Who: Hal Emmerich, Liquid Snake
Where: Azalea Town
When: Midday, October 10th
Summary: Hello, I am a crack pairing between two socially awkward people.
Rating: idfk, T or something
Log:
What had he been thinking? What had possessed him to offer to find a restaurant with Liquid? Sure, his cooking was a nightmare (and Otacon planned to bring back something nice for Heather to make up for it), but this was Liquid.

...as he got ready to leave, he idly wondered if Snake was alright wherever he was. Otacon was worried sick, though he hid it the best he could. His first and closest friend was in pain, possibly even dying and there wasn't a damn thing Otacon could do. To say it upset him was an understatement.

But this wasn't the time for that. He'd promised some food that was actually edible, and that's what he'd get them. If there was nothing he could do to help Snake...then he'd just wait and worry in silence.

"Ready, Liquid?" he asked with a smile, recalling the angrily hissing Kotai and slipping her Pokeball into the sleeve of his kimono--what her problem was with him, Otacon wasn't entirely sure.

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"Whatever you say." Leaning his head on his hand, Otacon smiled a little dazedly.

He paid and left a tip, then stood and reached down to help Otacon up out of his chair-- he looked like he might need a little assistance in balancing.

"All right, come on."

"Okay."

With a bright smile, he took Liquid's hand tightly in his and stood up.

It felt strange to hold Otacon's hand in his; he shifted his grip once the engineer was standing so that he held onto his forearm instead, and started to lead him out of the restaurant.

He stumbled a bit every few steps--why was the ground tilting?

"...This was fun. maybe we should do it again."

That was all right-- Liquid was there to catch him.

"You just like to see me break my chopsticks."

"That too." he replied with a laugh, hardly noticing he was falling all over the place.

"It was...y'know, cute."

Liquid caught him all over the place; he was in good hands. And he had a cute laugh.

"I'm not cute, you're delusional."

"M'not delusional. You said I was crazy. Make up your mind, huh?"

"Who says that you can't be both?"

"But m'not delusional. At least, I don't think I am."

"You think I'm cute. That's proof enough for me."

"Maybe I just have a different definition of cute. Like...like Kotai and Cthulhu. I think they're cute, too."

"A mad version of it."

Bunnies and puppies were cute. Giant betentacled abominations and eleven-foot-long snakes were not.

"Maybe. I dunno. M'not one to decide what's normal and what's not."

"Don't worry about it now."

He led the engineer safely into camp; not an easy task when Otacon got drunk so quickly. He made a mental note to force him to drink water and take a few aspirin before he went to bed.

"...kay. Probably a good idea. You can call me crazy later."

Oh hey, Liquid. Your hand is now property of the nerd's hand again.

...He just wasn't going to argue with the drunk nerd anymore. It probably wouldn't have done any good.

"Let's just get you back to camp and let you sleep this off."

"But m'not tired."

"No, but you're drunk. You'll be tired once a little more of that alcohol hits you."

"I'm not drunk. Least I don't think so."

"Trust me, you are."

A cute drunk, but drunk nonetheless. And probably going to wake up with a hangover tomorrow, too.

He walked into camp with Otacon in tow, and looked around for their fugitive camp-mate.

"Heather?"

No answer. Huh. She must've gone somewhere.

"Hm."