Fae, you've already read this. Tell me what you think! *directed at rest of LA*
Seventeen. Hardly seventeen, and such a ******** slut. He walked into the office, shirt hanging open to his navel, where a single button stopped it being open altogether. His wild red hair could have been tamed, but he was just too lazy and instead held it back with a pair of glasses, almost lost under his bangs. His eyes, that pair of huge, intense azure eyes, half-lidded unless he was surprised, or outraged, or jacking off. The skin on his face was flawless, but his smooth chest and stomach and arms, where his sleeves had been half-assedly rolled up, were riddled with small scars. Even though he was young, with narrow, lanky teenagers limbs, an overactive libido and the rabid rebellious glint in his bright mako eyes, he was still a Turk, and he was still my partner, no matter how hard the urge was to undo that last button and slip those trousers off that ******** girly waist and take him in the middle of the office, in front of Tseng and Veld, who just happened to be there when Reno waltzed in, shoes ‘lost’ somewhere and belt undone, ‘because it was comfortable, yo’, dragging his trousers further over his narrow hips, showing that his hair really was that ridiculous vermillion shade. He was grinning like a ******** jackal as he leaned against Veld’s desk, a** just perching on the edge, elegant, almost feminine fingers clasping the side. Tseng and Veld were staring out of a window that dominated the entire left wall of the room, and it was rather a very large room at that. Only the president’s son noticed when I tramped over to stand, statue-like, next to the redhead. The kid was beaming, like he had done the greatest thing this ******** world had ever seen. I wanted to wipe that smile off his face, and at the same time, make those dazzling eyes widen to the size of dinner plates.
“Yo partner,” the kid drawled in a voice heavy with no accent. And yet, from the way that he pronounced his words, although like everybody else, you knew he was a kid from one of the lower sectors. I looked down on him, seeing right down that loose shirt, but you could also do that from face-on. I remembered that he had addressed me, and rumbled a reply, something as simple as an acknowledgement. Reno yawned, stretching back, arms raised. His skin was so pale, and the grey-blue marks underneath his eyes suddenly stood out, as well as the slight flush to his cheeks from the temperature change from outside, to the air-conditioned office. I didn’t mean to look, and I shouldn’t have, but when he stretched, his back arched backwards. He wore black silk boxer-shorts underneath his standard issue black pants. Luxurious.
Rufus, the depressed-yet-determined looking blond who wasn’t much younger than the redhead moved to stand at Tseng’s elbow, and said something in a controlled, quiet voice. He was nothing like his father, I mused, to get my mind out of the gutter and off the topic of Reno. The raven-haired lieutenant turned and fixed his eyes on us, well, mainly on the young redhead. Reno often drew many people’s eyes, and I couldn’t blame him. He was like that – a kid who could get whoever he wanted, with a sly twist of his hips and a sarcastic grin. Oh ********…
“Rude, Reno,” Tseng said in that crisp voice, holding no trace of an accent. The only thing (and most major thing) that could tell a person that this guy was from Wutai would be his appearance. Everything else about him was Norse – voice, habits…
“Tseng,” Reno replied, face not straight and serious at all, eyes shining with mockery (and Mako). Tseng gave Reno a disapproving stare, eyebrows narrowing and pushing the small black dot further up his forehead.
“At least do up your trousers, kid,” Veld said, frowning far deeper than Tseng, the lines in his tanned face creasing up further. Tseng covered his mouth. Reno shrugged, hoisting up his trousers and buckling his belt. Like I said, Reno was a slut.
There is one place that everybody in the ShinRa building hates to go to. It’s not that it’s any place dangerous, or that anything down there was particularly sickening...
No, re-phrase that. It was probably the most dangerous place in the entire building, more dangerous than President ShinRa’s office, more dangerous than the women’s bathroom even! And it ¬was sickening to go down there, and walk through the lab…
But that wasn’t the main reason that everybody hated to go there. It was because of Hojo. The greasy, bespectacled doctor had a reputation all over Midgar, and everywhere else. Almost everything about him was true. Rude especially hated going down to the scientists laboratory on a day like this. Any day is bad when you’ve got to visit him, for one, and two, the elevators were out. And what they were carrying was really heavy.
“What the ******** is in this thing, yo?” Reno grunted, holding the end of the crate, and treading down another one of the endless flights of stairs. To Rude, his young partner had it relatively easy. At least he wasn’t walking down backwards, and as such, had most of the weight on his arms and shoulders. He had slept oddly last night, and now his neck was hurting. But then again, Reno probably couldn’t have been able to manage the weight, and just collapsed underneath it.
“Who knows,” The large, bald, bronzed buff man replied from around the crate that was almost as tall as he was, but far wider. They held it so they could see around it. The weight actually took his mind off where his eyes were roaming – watching Reno’s childish muscles flexing beneath his sweat-soaked shirt, or what remained of it to cover his torso. He would have been better just to walk about in just his trousers. Veld had even managed to convince Reno to put his shoes back on. His heavy combat boots looked drastically out of place with the rest of his Turk attire. Then again, at Reno’s age and appearance, he was and would always be the one that looked horrendously misplaced.
Rude’s mind had been wandering more than he liked it to lately. Probably because he hadn’t been laid in about a month. The last man he had tried to go out with turned out to be married, and the last woman was a strong-believer in a movement against ShinRa, and had tried to kill him.
Suddenly, Reno tripped, and far more weight than Rude could carry was thrust down onto his already tense shoulders and he dropped the crate on the stairs. They had been at the start of another of the short series of staircases, so the crate began to slide…
“Aibou!” Reno yelped as Rude somewhat staggered down the stairs in an attempt to get away, but clearly wasn’t fast enough, for the crate clipped his back and crushed him into the wall, pushing him between solid concrete and spine-tingling flesh-cutting splinters, as well as whatever was in that box. The last thing he heard was Reno’s voice as he yelled for somebody to help.
Hojo watched the boy as he stood in the small space next to the other Turks’ bed. He was dressed casually, and now could pass off as any street punk except that he was allowed into the ShinRa section of the hospital and nobody asked any questions about it. ShinRa, or more, Veld and Tseng, had pushed down the minimum hiring age from eighteen to sixteen just to let this lax little smart-a** join the Turks. From his appearance, Hojo would say that the kid wasn’t worth it at all.
Suddenly, there was a ‘shlink’ and a slight buzz, and the redhead was standing before him, pole-like instrument that the Turks favoured, their Electro-Magnetic nightsticks, out and charging up in Hojo’s greasy face. It took a while for his eyes to register who the shadow in the doorway was, and when he did, the nightstick shot back up his sleeve.
“Hojo?” Reno asked quickly, jus to make sure that it was actually him. “You left the ShinRa building?”
“Had to see if the repair materia worked properly, and to give you this, because you didn’t come and see me earlier today,” the scientist replied, reaching into a pocket of his white lab coat, slightly charred down the base and something green and sticky on his shoulder. His hands and parts of his face were covered in a fine, black ash. He brought forth a needle – long and slim, covered in a hard plastic cover – that was attached securely to a vial of green liquid. He held it out to the kid, who took it quickly, slipping it into his shirt pocket, glancing about to make sure nobody saw the exchange. Hojo smiled, using only half of his moth to do so, and peered down at the boy as the doctor pushed the glasses up his long nose. The scars underneath his eyes had gone as red as his hair. They wouldn’t fade with time either. That was part of the experiment. Only the doctor and the redhead Turk knew of that mishap – and that had happened before Reno joined the Turks. They had known each other long before that, hence the first name basis. Hojo had been somewhat of a father figure for the very young boy, not that he ever told anybody, and not that he looked up to Hojo or his profession exactly. When he became a Turk, he was nervous to go and see Hojo, afraid that someone would make the connection between him and the child who sometimes spent the night in Hojo’s office. But he shouldn’t have. None of the people who worked for the scientist lasted more than two years, at the latest “How have you been Reno?” Hojo asked like a disinterested doctor, completely unconcerned with his patients health, and just asking because it was his job. He reached out and stroked the sharp cheekbones of Reno’s face, smearing ash on his pale skin. Hojo’s piercing, critical black eyes looked into Reno. The doctor knew things about him that nobody else knew. Reno was crying then, suddenly, eyes shifted to the colour of deep blue as he looked down. Hojo brought him into a tentative embrace, stroking his hair and feeling the brief bout of tears fall from the boys eyes and onto his coat. Hojo, unused to feelings, suddenly felt… not nostalgia, but a kind of bizarre feeling as he remembered being in this same situation many times before. “There Reno, everything is fine now, don’t worry.”
“Why does it have to hurt?” Reno asked, a question that Hojo didn’t have an answer to, so he didn’t’ reply. He just waited till Reno composed himself and turned about. The doctor smiled slyly, and turned to go. Reno sat down in a chair next to Rude’s bed, and took out the needle, stared at it, then put it back.
Rude awoke silently, as always, and at first didn’t realize his white bleached surroundings. Then feeling came back into his body. His arm was completely numb, and a bizarre tingling feeling took control of the rest of his body – the familiar feeling of materia at work. It took a while for him to move his head and look down, and he saw the reason why his arm was dead. Reno had fallen asleep on it, just above the elbow. His hair and up-turned agape mouthed face were marred with lines of black soot. He woke when he felt Rude shift, wiping the saliva from the corner of his mouth, eyes widening, before settling back into their normal half-lidded lazy stare. He smiled broadly, then checked Rude’s watch.
“Right on time, yo! How are you feeling partner?” Rude felt like he had been crushed between a wall and a very heavy box, and he expressed this to Reno, who nodded and looked over his shoulder like he wasn’t listening.
“What do you mean ‘right on time’?” Rude asked. Reno watched as Rude sat up, not showing any amount of pain, even though he kept his eyes downcast. It was weird, Reno mused, feeling the little bit of extra weight in his pocket. Seeing Rude in a hospital bed, without his glasses to hide his light brown eyes, while he sat beside, almost perfectly healthy; it felt wrong. Usually it was the other way around, Reno always getting into the painful situation, and Rude always dragging his a** out of them.
“Tseng was gonna check up on you in ten, yo,” Reno reported, just as the sound of shoes began to echo in the hallway. “But, you know, he’s always early.” The dark haired lieutenant was then in the doorway, striding into the room, heels clicking on the linoleum ground. He assessed his Turks, or more, Veld’s Turks. Reno swing his legs where he sat in a chair beside Rude’s bed, where Rude was sitting up, looking sluggish. Tseng asked the same question that Reno had asked, but used better language. Rude replied with the exact statement he had given to his partner.
“Do you think that you could go home? I can give you two extra days off, and the hospital would infuriate you, I would imagine.” Rude grunted a reply. He loathed hospitals, almost as much as he loathed Hojo’s office. And being confined to one of their beds, despite liking the smell of hospital disinfectant, would drive him insane after the first hour. He nodded. “Good. Just to make sure, I’ll have Reno stay with you those two days.” Sort of punishment, Tseng thought, waiting to hear the youngest Turk’s retaliation.
“Is that an order?” he asked at last, being careful with his words, but Tseng knew what he was getting at.
“No, it’s a request. You will not be paid for those two days off.” Reno groaned, but Rude didn’t feel hurt. This was just Reno’s way of pissing people off, like he did, or tried to, many many times. Tseng was renowned for having a very short temper, and a difficulty controlling it. You could hear him shouting (mostly at Reno) all over the ShinRa building. Reno thought it was hilarious.
“A request? That means I can decline, right?”
“Wrong. If you say no, I’ll make both you and Rude stay in this hospital for a week, or both of you come back to work. I know you won’t say no.” Tseng looked, for a moment, like he was going to smile, but he didn’t.
“Yeah, sure, I guess so, yo.” Reno sighed melodramatically and winked at Rude, who rubbed his eyes and groaned. Two complete, whole, entire days with that rambunctious redhead… he wondered how he would keep his libido, and temper, under control. Reno, Rude mused, was like sex. You could live without him for only a short period before you got a dying urge to see him again, and when he was with you, you wanted it to hurry up and go if he was irritating, or stay for as long as he could if he was in a good mood. Although Rude would never say that to his face, nor ask him to stay. Well, two days with Reno couldn’t be that bad, hopefully.
Tseng left, and Rude sighed. Reno gestured to a bag on the table, beside the bed.
“It’s just your suit, another one, but it’s better than a hospital gown.”
“You got that from the office?” Rude asked, making Reno turn about and close the door as he got dressed.
“Naw, partner, from your place!” Rude frowned.
“You broke into my apartment?” Reno chuckled.
“No need, I got a key, yo!” Rude paused, and shook his head. He didn’t even want to know how Reno had gotten the key to his apartment without his knowledge.
Rude was shaky on his feet as they left the room and walked down the hall. Reno just reached Rude’s shoulder, but Rude could have easily made two of the younger Turk. Reno’s spiky hair also gave him a bit of height. Because of the heat of the day, Rude didn’t wear his jacket, and left his tie off, so not many people saw him as a Turk. Reno walked a step ahead of him, but not smiling or cajoling like he would normally. He’d been in hospitals long enough. Reno bowled over a doctor, who grumbled something about a stupid street kid, and Rude only just managed to catch Reno’s fist as it went towards the doctor’s jaw. The doctor paused, shocked, recognized the two ‘frequent visitors’, mumbled an apology and got out of there. When he was still within earshot, Reno laughed. Rude just shook his head.
“Must be relatively new,” Reno commented, walking off again.
Reno drove home – what Rude feared. It wasn’t that he was a bad driver. On the contrary, he had excellent vehicle skills. His car wasn’t the problem either; wired up with so much illegal machinery and upgrades it could be considered impervious. It was the fact that Reno had a lead foot, figuratively, and he also had a disregard for his, and everyone else’s, safety. If the traffic got too bade he would cut up side-streets, the wrong way up one-way streets, and even drive along the pathways, always at the very least twenty over the speed limit. The police got on his tail this time, as he roared down a pathway, and Reno actually laughed as they tried to keep up with him, hardly looking at the road, grinning with excitement, bouncing on his seat. Rude, on the other hand, clenched his hands on the edge of his seat, from fear, and also to stop from sliding off and hitting the door, or from falling onto Reno. Well, they lost the law, and made it to Rude’s outside-of-ShinRa apartment, generally in one piece. The elevator worked and Rude really did see that Reno had a key, seeing as he had left his own set at the office. Well, nothing looked too out of place, and Reno had already brought over a small bag of his things, dumped on the floor. He already had a spare toothbrush, hair gel, shampoo and conditioner and whatnot left in the bathroom, and a change of suit in Rude’s closet. That was the only suit he owned that was ironed, and he hardly ever wore it. Rude shivered, and went to get a drink, trying not to stare at Reno’s a** as he retrieved a case of beer from his bag.
“Ugh, sorry partner, I’ve got to go take a shower.” Rude didn’t mind. He had been hearing Reno berate the movie on the TV for the past two hours, but had yet to change the channel. Standing, and teetering with an over consumption of alcohol, he took off his shirt and draped it across the back of the lounge, followed by his pants. Rude turned about to see Reno staggering towards the bathroom in just his boxer shorts, which were a little loose.
“You could have gotten undressed in the bathroom, you know,” Rude quipped.
“Whatever man, whatever,” Reno drawled, hardly a reply, and closed the bathroom door, so only a fraction remained open. The shower started up, and Rude sighed, shifting to find a more comfortable position on the lounge. Something then fell out of Reno’s shirt pocket, hitting Rude’s hand with a dull clink. He looked down…. What?
The needle was filled with a grey-green liquid. It looked familiar, but Rude couldn’t quite place where he had seen it before. It looked illegal; was Reno doing drugs? It looked like it… and since he was from the slums, who knew? Rude wanted to find out what the kid was taking, and wasn’t going to pass up another opportunity to see him naked. He stood from the lounge, needle in his hand, and drained the remainder of the liquid in his long-necked bottle, and, placing it down on the table with a thunk, he made his way directly to the bathroom. However, he hesitated outside the door, hand on the side as he pushed it open slowly. The shower was to his left. Reno’s pants were on the floor, kicked into a corner near the sink. Rude slid into the room. He opened the shower door.
“Hey, what? Rude, what are you doing, yo?” Reno asked. He looked shorter when his hair wasn’t spiked, when it was wet, sticking to his face, shoulders and back, concealing his forehead. He smiled, water coursing over his body, and then he caught sight of the needle in Rude’s hand, and he froze. “Rude?” He stepped out of the jet from the water and stood against the tiled wall of the shower. “Rude, what are you doing?”
“What’s this?” Rude asked, lifting up the needle, the liquid inside sliding about the tube. Reno blinked twice, then looked down and swore.
“You went through my clothes?” he asked incredulously.
“What is this?” Rude asked again, pulling the cap off the needle. They were both drunk. No regrets. Reno looked away, looked for a way to escape, but Rude blocked the only way out. And he was holding the needle.
“You should know what it is. You’ve had it too!” Rude’s mind was blank.
“What. Is. This,” Rude phrased. Reno swore again.
“It’s Mako, alright? Dirty, ********, Mako!” He yelled. “You should have known that!” Rude never looked at the needles when he was getting injections – it made him feel queasy, Reno couldn’t have known that. But what was he doing with Mako outside of ShinRa?
“Why do you have it?”
“Give it to me.”
“Reno, why do you have a syringe full of ******** Rude, just give it to me!”
“Reno, stop!” Reno jumped forward and attempted to get past Rude, fists up. He lashed out and got Rude in the stomach, then tried to grab the needle, but Rude hardly felt the blow, and moved to protect himself. Reno caught the needle in his hand. The needle was in his hand. The Mako in the needle was in his hand. The syringe was empty.
Reno stepped back under the jet and took out the needle. It clattered to the ground, and he stared at the small amount of blood that trickled from his palm. Rude stood back.
“Reno, I’m… I’m…” He couldn’t think of the right words to say. Suddenly, he was light headed, but he couldn’t take his eyes off Reno. He was shuddering, body convulsing, and he gave short cries of pain. Reno hit the wall, close to Rude’s hand, breaking a tile, and the older Turk heard a sickening crack, and it wasn’t from the wall.
“Look what you…” His words were slurred as he tried to speak, and Rude felt guilt as he saw the pain in Reno’s eyes. They were wide. Then, it was gone, and replaced with something else. Something that Rude would have only thought to see in his eyes in his dreams…
Reno launched himself from the wall , veins on fire as the drug coursed it’s way through his body, alerting every nerve, every fibre, and every sense until he felt like it would destroy him. It hurt so much, but it was so elevating, so wonderful…. So addictive. That’s what it was. Addictive. That pain kept on building and he needed to do something before he passed out, and it was lost. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen Rude giving him those long stares, hidden behind his glasses. That’s what prompted Reno to tease, to ‘flaunt his wares’ whenever he could. He needed an outlet of this pain, and, well Rude was right there, and Hojo wasn’t.
The breath hitched in his throat as Reno pulled him under the hot shower, Mako making him stronger than he would have been normally. His young, skillful fingers undressed the older Turk, dropping his garments to the ground. Deep, deep, deep down, Rude knew that it was just the drugs and booze that was making them behave this way. But truth be told, his inner feelings could go to hell. He didn’t care! He pushed Reno up against the wall, the kid making short noises as he wrapped his legs about Rude’s waist to gain height. Reno’s mouth tasted like cigarettes and cheap beer, but Rude didn’t mind. His body was hot, as though he had a fever, and he couldn’t stop squirming. He made weird noises – they didn’t sound human. When he cried out though, as he pushed himself down on Rude’s d**k, head flying back and choking on his scream, well, that was human. He screamed as though he needed this. Rude thrust Reno back into the wall, scraping him up the tiles. Reno yelled again, a cry of pain, elevated from the Mako. Reno was so tight, yet he wasn’t a virgin and he could take this. As Rude thrust up into him again, Reno let out a long, hard scream as Rude went in even further, then further still. He waited for a moment, waiting for some sign from Reno, who gave none as his back arched, head pushing against the wall. The first trickle of blood dripped down Reno’s thigh, only to be washed away by the water that was slowly turning colder. Rude gripped both of Reno’s wrists and slammed them above the redhead’s head, supporting his body that way, as he went in harder and faster than before. He knew when he hit that spot. Reno made a noise halfway between a growl and a moan, eyes glowing now as the Mako turned his blood green. Rude grunted, feeling Reno clench about him, thrusting in fast again and hitting that spot once more. Reno gurgled this time. Rude hit that spot over and over, each time getting a response out of Reno that just made him more aroused, if that was even possible. Grabbing Reno’s neglected member, it didn’t take long to get it hard. It all ended when Reno came in his hands, eyes wide, mouth agape. Rude thrust a last time, burying himself deep inside of his Aibou and coming so hard, his vision turned to nothing but black spots.
When he re-gained himself, Reno had fallen from the wall and was draped over Rude’s broad, naked shoulders. The water had turned freezing, and Reno shivered slightly. Rude frowned and turned the water off, stepping out of the shower, and just missing the syringe. Bending over to place it on the sink, he fetched a towel and wrapped it about the younger man, who was now unconscious, and laying him on the lounge, curled up, damn, and boy would he be sore in the morning.
“A Mako addict,” Rude muttered to himself, rubbing the bridge of his nose where his glasses usually rested and heading to the bedroom. “Who would have thought?” Falling on the bed, he stared at the wall, and the mess. And then he started to laugh quietly to himself. “At least I got to finally screw the little b*****d.”
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