Rude's Week

Rude's Week

by Hestia

Sunday

Rude watched his partner behind his mirrored sunglasses. He shouldn’t be looking at Reno so much—ok, the problem wasn’t Rude looking, but rather, the state he got in sometimes when looking. You don’t stay alive by ignoring your surroundings in a crowded bar. But you don’t stay alive by being all work and no play either. Hell, you weren’t a Turk if you didn’t like danger and risks. There were risks, there was stupid, and there was dead. And there was Reno. Reno was might be the first two on occasion, but he was definitely alive, alive enough for both of them.

A long time ago Rude had stopped talking a lot and gotten cold. He had always been quiet, but once he had been more emotional. He had, long ago, loved Chelsea, a female spy for AVALANCHE. He had lusted for Tifa Lockhart for a while since their fighting styles were so similar. But he lived with and through Reno for most of his life now. Reno talked for him, and Reno made a lot of choices for him. Rude didn’t have to hang out with Reno when off the clock for Shin-Ra, but if Reno asked, Rude would come. Rude would drink, Rude would watch, and Rude would go home when Reno would tell him he would see him tomorrow—most of the time.

If Reno’s choice for some recreational sex wasn’t safe, Rude would usually make an effort to distract his partner or follow him to make sure things didn’t go from sex to violence. He didn’t care that Reno slept around, but he didn’t want Reno getting physically hurt over sex. Women like Tifa, like Elena, weren’t safe, but it had been a while since Reno had been interested in a woman who could fight. Reno still switched between sleeping with men and women, but most of the women that he slept with were ones Rude knew Reno could handle. The men, on the other hand, were more likely to make Rude worry about Reno. Rude had “accidentally” found Reno in a fight after a casual fuck in more than one alley in just the last month.

Rude was used to watching out for Reno, but lately Rude was worried about himself being more harm than help. If he was around, Reno should be able to count on him. But in the last few weeks Rude had been around but would zone out. He would be monitoring everything as normal and then somehow he would find himself focused on something stupid about Reno—say Reno’s cheekbones. He’d start studying the way the red tattoos under his eyes moved when he talked, ate, and drank, or the way pieces of Reno’s red hair would flop down again the tattoos, almost blending together. Then he’d realize someone was talking to him or had been for a while. It didn’t matter that Rude hadn’t answered, but it bothered Rude that he didn’t even hear what was said. He had started keeping track of how often he lost his track just watching Reno. It helped him stay focused on not losing track. Tonight he’d already managed to do it twice—a new record of distraction--once looking a cut on Reno’s right index finger and once watching the swing of Reno’s ponytail.

Reno was coming back to the table, moving though the bar with two drinks in his hands. Rude calculated the odds that Reno and the drinks would arrive at the table or if his drink would go to someone else. He rolled his shoulders back and shifted his neck as Reno slid into chair by three off-duty waitresses that had come in about ten minutes ago. He scanned the bar. He sipped his drink. He scanned the bar. Why was he here? What else would he be doing if he wasn’t here? After running over an incredibly boring to-do list in his head, Rude tried scanning the room to pick out the most dangerous person there besides himself and Reno. Well, that used up four more minutes. He decided to hit the bathroom. When he came back he lingered by the bar, waiting for the bartender to notice him. It never took long no matter what bar they were in, well unless it was Tifa’s bar, even though Rude wouldn’t bother to speak or even gesture until the bartender focused on him.

On his way back to the table, Reno gestured him to join him and the three women. Rude took the chair between Laurel and Svalda whose introductions and greetings he considered acknowledged by his taking a seat. Rude sipped his new drink and let the conversation ripple around him. He ate three peanuts. He watched Reno fish a peanut out of Svalda’s cleavage while still making Kira and Laurel laugh and smile.

Laurel attempted to stroke Rude on the arm. It didn’t take more than a glance at down at his arm for Laurel’s hand to disappear. That’s when Rude noticed the hair on the table. It was red and about a foot or a foot and a half long. It was Reno’s of course. It was the end of one of the long ones, broken off. Well, it might be one of the shorter ones. Rude didn’t have to worry about his head hair falling out. When he shaved and trimmed his facial hair, he always cleaned up carefully. He cleaned his shower and sink regularly. You wouldn’t find any stray hairs in his bathroom, let alone on a table. Not that the hair was in the peanuts. Nor was it near any of the drinks. It was just there. The sound of glass breaking startled Rude.

His nostrils flared as he assessed the situation. It was nothing important, just an empty bottle that had been left on the edge of an empty table, caught on the flowing sleeve of excessively silly jacket worn by a slightly drunk blonde. But never had Rude zoned out three times in one night before, and never just staring a hair. Rude stood up, disgusted with himself. He nodded at Reno and headed home.

Once in his apartment, Rude checked himself for signs of illness. He exercised for a while, testing his agility and balance. He showered and cleaned up the bathroom and reorganized the items in his bathroom drawer. An hour later he had polished three pairs of shoes, cleaned some knives he hadn’t used in the last year, and, more importantly, decided on his future social life. He didn’t need a social life like Reno did. If Reno wanted his company, Rude wouldn’t deny it. But if he let himself zone out two times when they were hanging out and if Reno was interacting with someone else, he was out of there--unless of course there was trouble. But if there was trouble, Rude wouldn’t be staring at hairs. Fuck, Rude would pluck out his own eyebrows, hair by hair, if he ever let himself zone out again on one of Reno’s broken, stray hairs. He could be there for Reno, and if he couldn't be there, he wouldn’t be there. Satisfied with his decision, Rude fell asleep.

Monday

There was a long red hair and cup of coffee fixed just how he liked it on his desk when Rude came back from Tseng’s office after dropping off the reports he and Reno had finished up this morning. Rude picked up the hair, twisting it in one hand before carefully rolling the hair around his finger, curious to see how many times it would loop around it. Twelve times. He rolled the ring of hair off his fingertip into his trashcan, frowning. He had let himself get pretty worried over a damn hair yesterday. Maybe he just worried about Reno too much anyway—he seemed no different this morning than any other morning. Neither of them had said anything about last night being the first time Rude had left Reno at a bar for no apparent reason at all. Sure Rude had dumped his partner before, but normally Reno knew exactly why Rude was leaving. If Reno broke Rude’s sunglasses, it was basically another way of asking Rude to go home. Rude caught himself wondering if Reno had even noticed his leaving as something unusual—unlikely. Besides tonight they would be accompanying Rufus to a dinner meeting along with Tseng and Elena. There was no telling how late they’d be on the clock, and mostly like if there was some after-mission drinking, it would be a foursome not a twosome.


Tuesday

The mission ended without so much a fight around 1 a.m., and Rude could tell that Reno was bored and impatient. After leaving Rufus secure in his penthouse, Reno was all for hitting the closest bar, an upscale, discretely gay club that charged absolutely outrageous prices designed to limit the clientele. Rude, of course, contributed nothing to the discussion which ended with Reno leaving Rude, Tseng, and Elena on the sidewalk and heading into the bar alone. After some shoulder-rolling that was Rude’s form of an apology for Reno, Rude went to find his partner.

The club was bigger than it looked, and it took Rude longer than expected to track Reno down. He’d discovered Reno in liplock with men before; he’d seen him fuck a few men in alleys, but he’d never come around a corner to find Reno pinned against a wall with his own hair wrapped around his wrists, held tightly above his head, and a man in suit as expensive as the ones that Rufus wore fiercely kissing the redhead. Rude couldn’t tell if Reno was having fun or not, but he was going to make sure. He moved up beside the two and said, “So, this one, eh?” As expected, the suit broke off the kiss to check out the new arrival. But Rude was focusing on Reno, looking to see what his partner wanted.

Reno gave him a grin, his hands still over his head, with his own hair twisted around them. The skin around his mouth was reddened, not its usual pale white. “You don’t like him, love?” said Reno, “but look how creative he is.” Reno arched and moved his body beneath his pinned hands, in a way that evidently his well-dressed captor found irresistible, for he pulled Reno away from the wall and turned him around so Reno's back was against the stranger's body. One arm wrapped around Reno's waist holding him, while the other stroked down Reno’s bare throat and into the v of his rumpled shirt. The suit growled at Rude, “Mine.”

There were a lot of things he could have said that would have make Rude just turn around and leave, but that wasn’t one of them. “Talk,” Rude said, demanding more information.

“What? Isn't your new lover from last night waiting for you? Don’t you have to race off to him again tonight?” asked Reno, astounding Rude.

“Fuck,” said the suit, releasing Reno, and shoving him at Rude. “You little shit; I’m not playing a leading role in this little revenge tragedy.” Rude caught Reno against his chest, arms encircling him to catch and steady him. The suit disappeared down the hall. Rude could feel Reno shaking against him, his body seeming too thin, too weak to be normal.

“Mag-rod?” demanded Rude, needing to know how Reno had managed to be disarmed so quickly. Reno’s head was still against Rude’s chest, worrying Rude. “Hurt?” demanded Rude, his hands now running over Reno, checking for broken bones. Reno let out a weird low groan, and Rude put his hands on either side of Reno’s head and pulled his face out from his chest, needing to see Reno’s face, to know what had Reno acting as if he was barely able to stand. But when their eyes met, the look on Reno’s face confused Rude. Reno’s eyes weren’t showing pain. They weren’t laughing or scared or hurt. They weren’t teasing or lusting either. If anything, they looked, well, serious. The pupils were a bit dilated, but the hall was dark. Rude kept staring, trying to figure out what Reno was feeling, needing.

A discrete cough behind him, shocked Rude, and he spun around to find a couple behind them looking to pass down the hall. He felt Reno pull him against the wall to let the two men pass, then Reno said, “Coat check,” and moved down the hall in front of Rude. Rude watched the red ponytail swish back and forth as Reno strode towards the front of the club. He followed, a bit confused and distracted. But fortunately, he was never expected to say much. He let Reno reclaim his mag-rod and hail a cab, whispering something to the cabbie. They were heading for Rude’s place.

When they got there, Reno got out too as if that was normal, letting Rude pay. Rude stood by Reno after the cab left, again letting Reno set the lead. “Come on, yo, I want a beer,” said Reno moving towards Rude’s building. Rude pulled out his keys and let them in, and the partners headed to his door in silence. Reno didn’t often come over to Rude’s. Rude never invited him, but partners don’t wait for invitations. Tonight was no exception—when Rude arrived in the kitchen after bolting the door, removing his shoes, and making a trip to the bathroom, Reno had a beer in hand, another open and ready for Rude on the table. Reno's shoes and socks were scattered in the middle of the floor, his feet were up on Rude’s kitchen table, and a cigarette was already lit. But what stopped Rude in the kitchen doorway, was Reno’s hand ineffectively combing through his loosened hair. Already, Rude could see at least four long red hairs on his white floor.

Sighing, Rude stooped down to pick up the hairs. Reno turned his head to look down at Rude, their faces about a foot apart. “Whatcha doing down there, yo?”

Rude just finished picking up the hairs, ignoring the question. When he sat down and took a swig of beer, he still had the hairs in his hand.

“Sorry I shed,” said Reno, “but my hair kinda got a workout.”

Rude twitched his head a little to left, indicating he wasn’t mad. They sat and drank in silence for a while. Rude found himself twisting Reno’s hair around his finger again. These four were longer than the hair on his desk the other day and made a fairly thick ring of red. Rude found himself at a loss with what to do with the ring of hair—it was bad enough that Reno’s feet were on his table, but he wasn’t going to be putting hair on it also. Reno tilted forward on his chair and stuck out his arm and pinkie, saying, “Slide it on here, yo.”

Rude reached out and put the ring of hair on Reno’s finger, just leaving it aound the base of Reno's fingernail, not wanting for some reason to push it down all the way.

“Slide it down,” said Reno pushing the finger closer.

Rude’s fingers seem so dark against Reno’s pale one. Reno’s pinky seemed tiny and soft but not feminine as Rude slid the hair down to the finger’s base, oddly conscious of how hot Reno’s skin seemed under his own darker and cold fingertips. The red ring of hair gleamed against Reno’s skin, and Rude found his eyes following Reno's hand as he rotated it, considering how the ring looked. Or rather, checking his nails because Reno next raised his hand to his mouth and bit off a piece of one fingernail.

“Don’t,” warned Rude.

Reno looked at him, the piece of nail balanced on the tip of his pink tongue, and spit it directly at Rude, challenging him. Rude leaned over, smiled, and ripped the nail off of Reno’s middle toe. Reno went for his rod, and the beer and table were casualties as the fight began. “Damn it, that fucking hurt, Rude, you’ll pay for that,” roared Reno. But it was the ceiling light that Reno took out swinging his favorite weapon, not his partner, sending glass down on them. Now it was Rude’s turn to curse, and he threw himself into the fight, not caring that it was his apartment getting wrecked.

For both of them, the fight seemed just what they needed to let off steam. Rude didn’t have much in his place anyway, certainly nothing he cared about that couldn’t be replaced. But something was odd about this fight. It took awhile for Rude to figure out what was bothering him. It wasn’t until he flicked on a light as the fight moved down the hall that he realized what was so weird. Reno had an erection, and that oddness had been the feel of hardness where no hardness usually was. Rude just froze, confused. Reno landed a punch, shattering his sunglasses, but Rude just blinked, shaking his head, looking from Reno’s crotch to his face, asking, “Reno?”

The question was there even though Rude hadn’t said more than Reno’s name. They both felt the query hanging in the air between them. Green eyes and brown eyes met, and then Reno was moving in closer. Rude just started into those green eyes, confused again. That look was back, that look he didn’t get. Then Reno’s hands were on either side of his head, and he was sticking out his tongue. Rude’s eyes fluttered, torn between looking at Reno’s eyes and his tongue. Then that tongue was on his lips, those eyes much too close, seeing into Rude's eyes that had no sunglasses to hide behind. Rude let his eyes close and his lips part, and then Reno was kissing him. Rude’s eyes flew open, and this time as their eyes locked. Rude was sure what he saw in those green depths was sadness and a need more fundamental, more serious, than desire. It was too much to look at; it was easier to just shut his eyes again and let Reno grind himself against him and explore his mouth—to just let himself taste the beer, nicotine, and blood in Reno’s kiss, to feel his partner’s hands sliding down his neck, shoulders, arms, and wrists to meet his hands. Their fingers intertwined, gripped, and Reno moaned into Rude’s mouth. And Rude found himself kissing a man for the first time in his life.

It didn’t really occur to him it was his first kiss of a man until later. All Rude was aware of was Reno needing, Reno moaning, Reno’s taste and touch. Then Reno’s hand was in his pants, and Rude couldn’t ignore the fact that his body was responding to its first sexual contact in years with interest. But instinct had him pulling away Reno’s hand and slamming Reno back against the other side of the hall. Reno rolled his shoulders back and pushed away from the wall and up against Rude. Their thin black pants didn’t do much to prevent them from feeling the desire between them. Reno moved back against the wall and slid his hands down, unzipping his pants, pulling out his cock, and stroking it.

His cock wasn’t pale like his long fingertips. It wasn’t as red as the ring of hair still around smallest finger sliding up and down that pink flesh. Rude had seen Reno’s penis before when he'd been watching Reno's back. He'd seen Reno's cock as it plunged into another man’s mouth, another man’s ass, a woman’s center, even being stroked by Reno’s own fist. But he’d never seen Reno's cock aroused for him, displayed for him, being stroked for his eyes. Reno had flirted and teased before, but never like this, never when Rude could still taste Reno in his mouth and still felt hard from Reno's touch.

“Rude,” moaned Reno, and then Rude just knelt down, pulled away Reno’s hands, and sucked that pink cock into his mouth and pushed his head down. Rude had never tried to do this before, but Reno had asked.

“Rude, Rude,” was all Reno seemed to be saying, but his voice sounded far away, distant. Rude’s hands pull down Reno’s pants, revealing a shock of red curls. Rude’s hands slid into those red curls, and he sucked harder, moving up and down faster. He searched out and felt around, noting each touch that seemed to make the body underneath his touch tremble and shake. He relaxed his throat and slid Reno back inside it, hands sliding around to cup Reno’s ass and force him deep inside. Reno bucked against Rude, and Rude found himself squeezing Reno’s ass hard enough to bruise, pulling Reno back and shoving him forward into his throat. His index fingers searched for and found that pucker of flesh. He slipped in one finger tip, then the other, rubbing around, teasing open that ring of flesh, then sliding one inside to the first knuckle, pulling out, and sliding the other in, matching the rhythm of his mouth.

Then somehow the words Reno was saying were being heard even though Rude didn’t want to. “God damn, that fucker taught you well, Rude. Whoever you ran off to be with last night, I owe him big, though I’m going to kick his ass for daring to fuck with my partner. Rude, oh god, Rude, you must of being doing this for years, yo, oh, damn, yeah like that, Rude, Rude, god damn, I’m close.” Rude didn't know how he felt about Reno assuming his night spent cleaning his apartment had been spent learning to suck cock. He didn't want to think about Reno's theory he had been secretly gay for years, running around giving blow jobs on the sly. He didn't want to think about how he felt about Reno's crazy ideas. He didn't want to think at all. He wanted Reno to shut up. He shoved both fingers deep into Reno and slide his mouth down letting his teeth graze Reno, sucking hard and biting, sending Reno into orgasm.

But even as Reno was cumming, Rude was pulling away, shutting and locking himself in the backroom, taking a shower. He didn’t bother to turn on the warm water. He knew the door lock was a joke, but it was his way of saying he wanted to be alone. When he got out of the shower, Reno was gone. Rude bolted the door again and headed for the kitchen. He wasn’t going to be able to sleep, so he might as well get a drink and clean up the mess.

Hours later when Tseng rang up demanding Rude be in the boardroom in twenty minutes, Rude still hadn’t gotten any sleep. But his apartment was spotless again, and Rude had a newly twisted ring of red hair on his own pinkie. He didn’t bother to take it off before heading over to Shin-Ra.

When he entered the boardroom only fifteen minutes later, he was a little surprised to see Reno sitting cross-legged on the credenza. Not that Reno preferring to use a cabinet rather than a chair was anything out of the ordinary, but usually Reno was the last one to a meeting. When he walked in, the room fell silent for an awkward moment before Rufus began talking again.

When the meeting was over, Rufus dismissed everyone but Tseng. In the hallway, Elena grabbed Rude’s arm and pulled his hand up, fingering the red ring of hair around his little finger. “Well, well, well,” she said, “and since when have you taken to wearing Reno’s hair around your finger?”

“Since he started putting his fingers up my ass,” said Reno with a grin, pulling Rude away from Elena, “Hands off my hot stuff.” Rude’s mouth feel open in shock. But Elena was laughing and leaned into kiss Rude, sliding her tongue into his open mouth. She tasted of coffee and her tongue teased and tried to coax Rude’s into responding for a minute or so until she gave up. Then Reno was moving in for a kiss, and Rude was swinging a punch at him before thinking. That sent Elena into hysterical laughter. Reno easily dodged the punch, saying, “I told you, he’s a passionate one, but shy, Elena. Now pay up." The blonde and the redhead argued in the hall, and Rude felt a sharp pain in his chest.

He needed coffee. He hadn’t eating anything for hours. He grabbed Elena and kissed her, just to stop the argument over whether Rude had shown more emotion over Reno’s or Elena’s attempts to kiss him, he told himself. He put his annoyance into the kiss, and this time he was the one whose tongue slid between a pair of lips, pushing in and probing Elena’s unresisting mouth. Elena responded with a vengeance, and Rude found himself participating in his second hot kiss of the day—and his second active kiss of the year. The pain in his chest grew worse, distracting him, and he bit Elena’s tongue and broke off the kiss. “I’m going to lunch,” he said heading for the elevator. He rode down alone and was nearly finished eating in the Shin-Ra cafeteria when Reno, Eleno, and Tseng joined him.

Somehow the day seemed to become normal around Rude. The pains in his chest went away. And after work, Reno and Rude went to dinner and then to a bar. Everything was normal, more normal than it had been in a long time. Rude didn’t zone out once. But the night wasn’t normal. Reno didn’t pick anybody up or let anyone pick him up, and Rude’s lack of sleep was catching up with him.

“I’m tired, Reno. I need to go home and get some sleep,” Rude finally said about ten minutes before midnight.

“Sure,” said Reno, “Well, see you tomorrow, partner.”

Rude just nodded and got up to go. But it felt weird leaving Reno there. Rude lingered, and Reno raised an eyebrow, not saying anything. Rude felt himself saying, what was for him, another long speech, “I’ve got some beer that didn’t get broken or drunk last night, uh, Reno,” Rude paused, not sure why tonight he was inviting Reno back to his place, but feeling like he needed to see Reno smile, to make sure things were going to be ok between them.

Reno grinned up and him, saying, “I think I can take care of that for you.”

Wednesday

It was a weird sort of déjà vu. Rude excused himself and went in the bathroom as soon as they arrived at his place. He lingered in the bathroom, washing his face and brushing his teeth. He flossed. He looked around the bathroom for any other reason not to leave and sighed. After two nights in row of cleaning, there really wasn’t any excuse to stay in here. Rude walked to the kitchen, expecting to find Reno much as he had last night. But although the kitchen light was on, there was no Reno. Rude checked his refrigerator—two beers were gone. There was only one place Reno could be.

Rude walked down the hall to his bedroom, trying not to panic. He never panicked. He was Rude, the quiet one, the calm one. But the sight of a naked Reno sprawled on his bed, stroking himself, just froze Rude in the doorway.

“If you’re going to invite me over so much, you need to invest in some lube,” said Reno.

“Beer, not sex,” was Rude’s way of trying to point out Reno was taking a lot for granted.

Reno just grinned at him and nodded to the table by the bed with two open beers on it. “Beer,” he agreed, and then said, “I don’t see a little touching myself as sex; I’m just relaxing, yo.” Reno stopped stroking himself and brought his two hands together, cracking his knuckles. He then stretched out his arms and yawned. “You should try it more often. You’d probably get more sleep if you did, Rude. So you want me out?”

A voice in Rude’s mind shouted no, and Rude started a mental argument with himself—yeah, I want Reno out, I want to sleep. No you don’t, you won’t sleep, you’ll just think of Reno on your bed like that. That’s the sexiest thing you’ve seen in years--hell, admit it, ever. Why doesn’t he have hair on his legs? Does he shave his legs?

“Rude, yo, what do you want?”

“Shaved?” asked Rude, not really thinking clearly.

Reno sighed and grabbed one of the beers and took a long, slow drink. Rude watched the way Reno’s throat moved as he swallowed the beer for a while before his eyes went back to Reno’s legs. They were shockingly hairless, smooth, and white, like a woman’s freshly shaved legs, but definitely no woman’s. Their shape was muscular, male, powerful. It was hypnotic. Maybe if he touched them, he could tell if they were shaved or not.

“Shaved? You’ve lost me here.”

Rude found himself standing against the end of the bed. He wouldn’t touch, but he wanted to know. “Did you shave your legs?”

Reno just let out a satisfied sounding, “Aahhhhhh,” and rolled away from Rude to put his beer down on the floor on the far side of the bed. There were fingertip-shaped bruises of purple on each white ass-cheek, and Rude suddenly needed to sit down. He grabbed the other bottle of beer and took a drink. His chest was starting to hurt again.

Reno rolled back over and took Rude’s free hand and placed it on his leg. Rude carefully set his beer back down on the bedside table and then reached up and took off his sunglasses. He set them next to the beer. He unzipped his jacket and began tugging off his tie. The fingers of his right hand on Reno’s leg were tensing and untensing, sliding across that soft white skin. Reno’s tongue slowly licked his lips, and then he said in a low, breathy voice that made Rude’s cock jump in his pants, “So, feel them, Rude, touch my legs, tell me if you think I shaved them for you.”

Rude just groaned. In all their years together, Reno had never lacked for sex partners, and Rude was only just beginning to understand the power Reno had when he was trying to be seductive. He gave in and just attacked Reno, his hands sliding up that leg to wrap around Reno’s cock, his mouth descending to Reno's skin, licking, sucking, and biting at Reno’s left nipple, then his right.

“Aaahhhh, Rude, Rude"--the sound of Reno’s voice full of desire and need drove Rude to stand up and tug his clothes off. He was so lost from his normal self that instead of carefully hanging up his clothes, he just put them on the dresser top in a heap. He turned around and found himself wrapped in Reno—tongue around tongue, arms around arms, body against body. Rude’s hands thrust into that red hair, and he tugged back Reno’s head by his hair, exposing that white throat he had watched drinking beer just minutes ago. He had wanted to lick that throat, to bite it, to feel Reno’s pulse through his lips, though his tongue, and now he let himself go. Pushing Reno down on the bed, Rude licked, bit, and sucked. He then rubbed his face down against the red hair on Reno’s chest, please to see Reno’s nipples were still hard and giving each one another suck.

“Mark me, Rude, come on, mark my neck, mark my chest,” urged Reno in that uneven voice that once more make Rude’s cock twitch. Rude moved back to Reno’s neck, biting down hard now, sucking the flesh into his mouth, his fingers pinching those red, aroused nipples of Reno’s before sliding down to grasp Reno’s erection. Reno arched up, thrusting into Rude’s hand, pushing his neck into Rude’s bite, moaning. Then one of Reno’s hands found Rude’s cock, and Rude lifted his head and groaned. He couldn’t focus if Reno touched him, he couldn’t do anything.

It only took seconds for Reno to reverse their positions, to have Rude on his back with Reno licking and biting his neck, stroking his cock, moaning. Then Reno was kissing his way down Rude’s chest, sucking on a nipple, letting his tongue probe Rude’s belly button. But before Reno put his mouth to Rude, he raised his head, “Tell me Rude, tell what you want.”

“Reno,” grasped Rude.

“Yes, you want me, don’t you, Rude? Tell me more, tell me what you want me to do, or maybe I’ll just leave you to have some beer not sex.”

“Sex. Lips, mouth on me,” Rude managed to say. Then Reno gave him what he wanted, and Rude found himself just repeating Reno’s name again and again. Nothing had ever felt like Reno’s mouth, nothing came close to the pleasure Rude was feeling. Rude usually didn’t use waste words but saying Reno’s name was a way to stop himself from saying other things, things he hadn’t thought about for a long time, things having to do with wanting, feeling, needing. Rude had thought he’d done a pretty good job yesterday for his first ever blow job, but he was now experiencing the work of a virtuoso. But to think about how Reno got so talented wasn’t possible, thinking really wasn’t possible—my god, that twisting combined with just a hint of teeth—the hand on his balls—that tight wetness closing tight around him, the pressure, release, pressure—then a finger inside him, no escape, Reno beneath him, in him, on him, around him--red hair slipping across his chest and legs, red hair beneath his hands, arching up, being driven down, full, held, pinned, devoured—then--then--nothing. What?

“Beg me,” said Reno, “tell me again you want me.”

“Reno, I, Reno, fuck, Reno, want you, want you, want this, more.”

And then Reno was pushing apart Rude’s legs, pulling up his knees, not what Rude expected. The pain in his chest came back ten-fold, and Rude groaned, but it was too late. Reno had pushed into him, sending Rude into a full panic attack. He thrashed about, moaning, but Reno just let his weight press down on Rude, putting that red and white body against Rude’s, kissing him with lips that now tasted different, tasted of sex, tasted of Rude. Then Reno’s lips moved to Rude’s ear, and Reno was whispering words that took all the fight and panic away.

“Mine. Only mine. I’ll kill anyone else, Rude. No one else. All mine. Who do you belong to Rude?”

But Rude couldn’t talk. Then Reno was pulling out and pushing into him, slamming deep, not holding back, insisting, “Mine. Tell me, Tell me. Open your eyes, dammit, and look at me, Rude. Tell me whose you are.”

Rude looked up into those green eyes, his body torn between pleasure and pain, and felt that pain in his chest again. Reno was looking sort of wavy, like there was something in Rude’s eyes, like he was crying. But Rude never cried. Then Reno was kissing his eyes, kissing him again, moving in him slowly, one hand now between them, touching Rude, stroking him. Then the lips were at his ear again, “Rude, Rude, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” That was all it took, and Rude felt the words just come up in his throat.

“Yours, yours, Reno, all yours,” Rude admitted. Reno let out one of those moans that made Rude’s cock throb inside Reno’s grip. Brown eyes and green eyes met, and somehow words didn’t seem important anymore. Reno began slowly pulling out of Rude, his mouth and cock moving away.

“Reno, please,” said Rude.

“Cum for me Rude,” said Reno before he lowered his mouth down to suck Rude deep into his throat again.

Pleasure everywhere. No, no too intense for pleasure, pain. Pain everywhere, inside, outside, all sides. But good, too good to be pain, so something else. What? Sensation, feeling, something, yes pleasure, pleasure, but pleasure hadn’t felt like this before. Pleasure beyond just sex. Then Rude came, and the words filled his head as his sperm filled Reno’s mouth—I love you, Reno, I love you. Suddenly Rude knew, knew what all that pain in his chest was about, knew that his future was never going to be the same. Reno had stolen his heart.