At least he's hot

Chapter 15 - physics

“Champagne?”

“Yeah, champagne. Did I stutter? I want a bottle of fucking champagne.”

Reno sighed passively and picked up the phone. Rufus had been acting completely insane for at least an hour. First, there was that laughing… a while ago he had burst out in laughter for no apparent reason, as if hitting the bottom was the funniest thing that had ever happened to him. Not even laughing… the correct verb would be cackling - like a fucking witch on a broomstick.

Then there was that whole bit about the elixir. Rufus had sorely and desperately wanted an elixir, even though he had already taken one earlier in the day. Not only were elixirs horrendously expensive, they were also extremely bad for your liver. Even Reno, a seasoned alcoholic, refused to touch them. Nonetheless, Rufus had insisted that the Turk go out and buy him an elixir. The reason? “I can’t stand these ugly lumps on my face! They’re… they’re hideous!” he had shrieked, like a teenaged girl with an acne breakout. So Reno, bound by Tseng’s threat of jail time, had gone out and paid for one with his own money. Well, some of it was actually Rufus’ stolen dough… but still. Those fucking elixirs were a thousand gil - not exactly pocket change.

And now Rufus wanted to get wasted. Did he have any concern for his liver? Oh well, Reno thought. It’s not my problem. I’m just doing my job. He hesitantly dialed the number for room service and ordered a bottle of champagne. It was hard as hell not to order two… his thirst for booze had grown to a gnawing, maddening ache, but Tseng had specifically told him not to touch a drop of alcohol.

After placing the order, Reno grumpily slammed the phone down on the receiver and glowered over at Rufus. Thanks to the elixir, the blonde’s face was back to its usual flawless perfection, as if the fight had never even happened. He was stretched out lazily on the bed, puffing absently on a cigarette and paying absolutely no heed to the ash that kept falling off the end and onto the sheets. His wrinkled pinstriped oxford was unbuttoned all the way down, baring a strip of slender, feminine torso. Reno sullenly rolled his eyes, fighting the wave of warmth that prickled in his stomach. Why did Rufus have to look so fucking sexy? Did he even realize it?

Of course the bastard knows it, Reno decided. He’s probably even getting some kind of sick satisfaction from torturing me. After their last sexual encounter, Reno had promised himself never to touch Rufus again. It would be like a dog to its vomit. No, after someone fucks – no, rapes - you in the ass, it’s just never going to be the same. The fact that he had liked it only made everything worse. He’d never be able to look at Rufus or Sephiroth the same way again.

Well, I did rape Rufus before he raped me… he considered. But that wasn’t the same thing at all… was it?

A brisk knock on the door derailed his train of thought. His joints popped like snapping twigs as he stood up, plodded to the door, and swung it open to meet the room service. A fat dude in a cheesy bellhop’s suit presented the bottle of champagne, uncorked and complete with wineglasses balanced on a silver platter. Reno eyed the man distastefully and cursed when he heard the price.

“Seventy fucking gil?” he mumbled as he pulled his wallet out of his back pocket. “Fucking ridiculous…” He fumbled through the bills and pulled out eighty. Even stupid-looking motherfuckers like this guy deserved a tip. He took the platter, closed the door in the dude’s face, and carried it over to the nightstand.

“I hope you’re happy, asshole,” he muttered to Rufus, pouring him a glassful. “I’ve spent more on you than I’m getting paid today.”

Rufus sat up and snatched the glass from Reno’s hand. “Happy?” he echoed wistfully. “No, I’m not happy. I’m just mildly consoled that you’re spending some of my money on me.” He smirked dryly and took a big gulp of wine.

“For fuck’s sake, don’t spit that bullshit until you have proof,” Reno growled as he lit yet another cigarette.

“Right,” Rufus mused. “Because if I had proof, it would most certainly prove you innocent?”

Reno twisted his lips into a sore imitation of a smile. “Hey, I think you’re finally starting to come around,” he sneered.

Rufus snorted and finished off the glass of champagne, then moodily tossed the glass aside and grabbed the bottle by the neck. After taking a huge chug that made Reno’s mouth dry with envy, his large blue eyes drifted up to meet the Turk’s stormy glare. Reno couldn’t help but notice how silky and inviting the blonde’s skin looked in the dim light. The oxford had fallen all the way down to his elbows, revealing the gentle curve of his shoulders. Not to mention the bare chest… Reno tried with all his might to keep his eyes from wandering down. “Reno…” Rufus murmured in a surprisingly soft voice. Reno felt an uninvited blush creeping to his cheeks. “Umm… I just wanted to know…” He paused to stretch lazily, arching his back. Despite his willpower, Reno’s eyes dropped automatically to his bare chest and taut stomach, wondering incredulously if Rufus was consciously trying to seduce him. “Well…” the blond continued, toying seductively with a lock of golden hair, “exactly… how much longer do you have to be here, breathing down my fucking neck?!?!”

The blush on Reno’s cheeks immediately deepened to an angry shade of crimson and his half-hard erection disappeared like it was never there. “How much longer are you gonna treat me like shit?” he hissed. “Fuckin- A, I already told you! I’m here until Tseng allows me to leave and that’s all there is to it! And as for you, you’re such a fucking idiot - he’s worried that you’re either gonna die or kill yourself without a Turk watching over you. Plus, I have orders to keep you away from your apartment until they’re all done investigating over there.” He suppressed a vengeful grin. “I hear those thugs really did a number on the place,” he nonchalantly added. “Must have wrecked a lot of valuable shit, eh?”

“Aargh, you’re such a fucking prick!” Rufus howled. The champagne was already half-gone, vanishing like a sad magic trick. Even though Rufus had only been drinking for about three minutes, he was already showing the first annoying symptoms of being drunk: slurring his words, acting like a slut, and being even more peevish than usual. “I hate you… I really do,” the blond moaned.

“Oh don’t worry, the feeling’s mutual,” Reno scowled, eyes now planted firmly on the floor. He took his phone out of his pocket and squinted at the time. Evening was crawling by… soon it would officially be night. How long is Tseng gonna torture me with this bullshit post? he wondered desperately. He hoped it wouldn’t be for much longer… the combination of sexual tension and thirst was just about driving him mad.

If Rufus’ damn oxford came off another inch, Reno had a dreadful feeling he’d be on the blond like white on rice.

* * *

“Sir… if you’ll just relax-”

“Relax?” Hojo spat. “Who are you to tell me what to do?!” He shoved the nurse aside and swung his legs off the hospital bed. “Fuck, woman! It’s just a broken nose!” The scientist’s blood was boiling, his skin prickled with gooseflesh and his brain was a red alert of panic. He had no time to play sick with this stupid medical staff.

“Sir… we have orders to keep you here…” the nurse stammered.

Hojo squinted menacingly at the girl through his shattered glasses. “I don’t take orders from anyone, understand?!” he hissed. “I have business to attend to, business far more important than whatever orders you received!” He grabbed his damp lab coat off the foot of the bed and threw it on, ignoring the pinkish, diluted splotches of blood staining the back and sleeves. Thanks to that idiotic Turk, he had been forced to remain at the hospital for an entire hour while all evidence of his failed experiment was wiped clean from the lab. Now the guards were gone, and he didn’t plan on sticking around with his thumb up his ass. He pulled his cell phone out of his coat pocket and flipped it open. It was a miracle the thing was still working.

“Sir…”

“Shut up!” Hojo screamed. “Just… SHUT UP!!!” He stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind him. There were far more important matters to attend to than a fucking broken nose… God, he was screwed. He dialed the President’s number with a shaky, claw-like finger as he walked. Only one ring later President ShinRa picked up, as if he had been waiting specifically for this call.

“Hojo,” he stated dryly. “What took you so long?”

“Err… it was the Turk… Tseng. He made me…”

“No time for excuses! I heard what happened in the lab and I’d like to know what you plan to do about it!”

“Well…” Hojo stuttered, “It’s a rather difficult situation. Sephiroth’s mental state right now is delicate-”

“What did you tell him?!” the President growled, cutting him off for a second time.

“Nothing!” Hojo said, “I didn’t tell him anything... but I think he’s at the point where he’s going to find out, one way or another.” He heaved an exhausted sigh, pinching his throbbing nose between his thumb and forefinger. Damn experiment! Why did Sephiroth have to be such a fucking psychopath? Was it Jenova’s cells? “So I’ve been thinking…” he said, “Didn’t you say there’s a reactor leak in Nibleheim?”

“Yes,” the President said. “I believe there’s a platoon being sent up there tomorrow to fix it. Why? Are you trying to change the subject?”

Hojo felt a random smirk curl his thin lips, even though there was nothing funny about any of this. “No…” he stated. “I was just thinking… Why don’t you put Sephiroth in charge of the mission? Maybe some fresh air will do him good.”

“Are you kidding? Fresh air??? What Sephiroth needs is a fucking lobotomy!”

“Just trust me on this one,” Hojo said. “If Sephiroth’s looking for information… he’ll certainly find it in Nibleheim.”

The President snorted. “Whatever you say. He’s your damn son.”

“Ah, yes,” Hojo sighed. “Trust me… I know what I’m doing.”

President ShinRa hung up before he could even elaborate on the plan. No matter… the less anyone knew about it, the better. Sephiroth wants to know his past… Hojo mused. He laughed maniacally. Careful what you wish for.

* * *

It was only a half-hour walk from Headquarters down to Sephiroth’s flat in the industrial district, but this night, the walk seemed to last forever. He felt like he was walking through jelly, as if the dirty city air had coagulated into a choking, viscous fluid. His apartment building never seemed to draw closer and Headquarters always remained an ominous beacon, casting Mako-fueled light on his back. Even the road seemed to be working against him; it seemed to be stretching its scaly, asphalt back just to make his walk that much longer and wearying.

It was a miracle that he reached his apartment at all.

Tseng had said something… something hours ago, or was it days? Something about calling Rufus. And something bad had happened at the lab, hadn’t it? Something like… like roadkill. Roadkill and test tubes.

God, he needed a drink.

* * *

Reno was thinking about physics. Not quantum physics, not even basic Newtonian physics… just the physics of an entire bottle of champagne disappearing into Rufus’ taut stomach with no physical evidence. You’d think that he’d look… fuller… or something. But somehow, Rufus’ stomach defied the laws of physics. The 28 ounces of booze vanished. The stomach remained flat. Had it disappeared into another dimension? Or had it simply compressed, like matter implodes under tons of water in the deep sea?

Who knows?

Reno was also pondering the physics of that pinstriped shirt. How could anything crawl so slowly toward the earth? He watched its hesitant descent down Rufus’ arms with ironic wonder. It crept downward like a slug with a cramp.

What had he said to himself earlier? Oh, that’s right. “If Rufus’ damn oxford comes off another inch, I have a dreadful feeling I’ll be on Rufus like white on rice!” What a stupid thing to say! White on rice aside, Rufus’ damn oxford had gone less than a centimeter down his willowy, graceful arms… let alone an inch! Maybe Rufus had read his mind. Maybe Rufus knew the bizarre intricacies of his thoughts, and was simply toying with him, sliding that oxford down his shoulders with a painstaking, almost imperceptible slowness to satisfy his own malicious humor.

Who knows?

Not an inch. Not even close.

All conversation had long ceased and the room was stiflingly silent. Reno was sick of arguing about the robbery and Rufus was apparently just sick of it all – he had consumed the champagne with a thirst equal to that of a home bum with a hangover, and now he was gazing listlessly out the window at the featureless, black sky. Black… black like his heart… Reno mused sardonically. Boredom gnawed on him like a parasite.

When Rufus’ cell phone rang, the sound was so loud and unexpected that Reno nearly jumped out of his skin. The blond, senses dulled from alcohol, just groaned and pulled the phone out of his pants pocket, squinting at the number. He seemed to hesitate slightly – he almost looked excited for a second there – before he answered.

“Hello?” he said, as if he hadn’t already identified the caller. A pause. The blond eyebrows lifted in either awe or disgust.

“No shit. Well my day hasn’t been much better… uh… yeah, I’m drunk. Am I slurring that bad?” Another pause. “Well, I got fired. Why? My dad saw that fucking tape.” Another pause, even longer than the last ones. A blush crept onto Rufus’ cheeks. “I… I guess I forgot? I never thought someone would break in and take it, okay? Give me a break! I just told you I got fired… I think I’ve paid for it enough!”

Reno rolled his eyes and puffed impatiently on his smoke. So Sephiroth was awake. Just great. He had hoped the asshole would stay in that tank forever… or maybe suffer some sort of brain damage from that crack to the head. If he woke up dumb as a brick that would have been nice. If he spent the rest of his days as a drooling vegetable, that would have been fantastic.

“Well, I guess I can…” Rufus was saying, girlishly twirling a lock of hair around his finger. He had the shitty expression on his face of someone about to get a serious piece of ass. “Yeah. Okay. Don’t worry about it… I’ll be there in a minute.” A brief pause, a schoolgirl blush. “I won’t. See you soon.” Click. Reno felt like hurling.

Suddenly Rufus was full of energy. He sprang off the bed and started to button up his shirt with fumbling determination. Rather than explaining himself to Reno, he remained completely silent, as if the Turk was just another piece of musty hotel furniture and wasn’t worth the breath. After ten seconds, Reno sighed loudly and impatiently tapped the ash off his smoke.

“So?” he pried. “Are you going to tell me where the hell you’re going all of the sudden?”

Rufus rolled his eyes. “’S none of your damn business,” he slurred.

Reno clicked his tongue. “Uh… it is my damn business. Unless you want to call Tseng and tell him you’re fine, I’m gonna have to follow you around all night. Hell, I’ll even have to watch you take it up the ass… just to make sure you don’t get hurt.”

A snort of laughter escaped Rufus’ lips. “Well I guess I’m calling Tseng, then,” he said.

“Damn…” Reno muttered sarcastically. “I was really hoping to tag along.”

Rufus flipped his phone open and dialed the senior Turk’s number. While waiting for Tseng to pick up he whispered, “Do I sound drunk?”

“You sound like you just drank an entire bottle of champagne practically in one gulp,” Reno honestly replied.

“Damn it… oh, hi Tseng.” Rufus said. He sat down on the edge of the bed, nervously tapping his foot. “Yeah, I’m feeling a lot better now… my nose? I don’t think it’s broken. Well, I took another elixir, you see… I know it’s bad for your liver, but bruises are bad for my face. I think the benefits outweigh the side effects.” There was a long silence. Rufus nodded his head and swallowed uneasily. “Wow,” he said “So he really freaked out. He didn’t tell me that part. Like roadkill? Really? Did he do it with his bare hands?”

A strange mental image of Sephiroth fucking a dead animal flew into Reno’s brain and fluttered around before he forced it out.

“But anyways, I was calling because I’m sick of having Reno around me,” Rufus announced. “I’m fine… no concussion, no suicidal thoughts, nothing wrong at all. I’m going across town to see Sephiroth and I don’t want Reno following me, watching my every move.”

Another pause ensued. Reno could tell the conversation was not going in their favor by the way Rufus’ cheeks were turning red. Finally, the blond said, “I had a little wine. No, not a whole bottle! Geez, have a little faith in me!”

Nope. Not turning out in their favor. What was up with Tseng today?

“Damn it, Tseng! You’re losing it, you know that? You really want Reno to sit around all night while we… … Well, sure that’s fucked up and everything, but he wouldn’t do that to me…” Another stupid pause. Rufus sighed. “Tseng. Tseng! I get it, okay? He’s a dangerous criminal and I’m completely insane for wanting to see him. Yes, you’re right. Is that better? What? Well, I guess…” The blond sighed again and rolled his eyes, lowering the phone from his ear. “Reno, he wants to talk to you,” he whispered.

“Give it here,” Reno growled. Rufus awkwardly chucked the phone in his direction. The Turk fumbled it and almost dropped it before raising it to his ear. “Umm… what’s up?” he muttered into the receiver.

“Reno!” Tseng stated. “Under no circumstance is it okay for Rufus to be alone with Sephiroth! You probably haven’t even heard yet… when he woke up today, he killed one of Hojo’s lab assistants and almost murdered Hojo before I intervened! He’s going insane!”

“Uh… so you want me to do what?” Reno sighed. “You know Rufus and Sephiroth are… you know…”

“Yes, I know,” Tseng barked. “Just stay in the vicinity and call me if anything goes wrong.”

“Can’t you get someone else to-”

“No! That’s an order!” Click. End of conversation. Reno wasn’t sure if the conversation could have possibly gone any worse. He closed the phone and glared over at Rufus, who was sitting sulkily on the edge of the bed, childishly swinging his legs.

“Great… just great. Rufus, why did you tell him you were going to see Sephiroth?”

Rufus rolled his eyes. “I had no idea he went nuts on that lab assistant,” he sourly replied. “He didn’t exactly mention that part on the phone.”

“Didn’t Tseng tell you Sephiroth went nuts before you mentioned you were going to see him?” Reno mumbled. After looking at the idiotic, baffled expression on Rufus’ face, he just shook his head. “Never mind…” he sighed. He stood up and stretched. “Well, I guess I’ll go get a company car… I’m not gonna sit in a fuckin’ cab all night.”

“This is such bullshit…” Rufus muttered.

“Well, I think it’s bullshit that you have to go see that psycho in the first place,” Reno said. “What the hell is wrong with you, anyway?”

Rufus smiled distantly. “He’s better to me than you were,” he replied. “Fucking date rapist.”

“Whatever…” Reno growled as he headed for the door. “What the hell did you expect anyway? You’re so fucking naïve…” Before Rufus could say anything in response, he left the room and slammed the door behind him. Fucking asshole. Fucking idiot. It’s was Rufus’ naivety that had caused everything to go to shit lately. Yes, everything was definitely Rufus’ fault. Fucking slut.

Thanks to Rufus’ idiocy, he was going to have to spend the entire night cramped up in a car in the industrial district. What was Tseng thinking? If Sephiroth actually did go nuts and tried to kill Rufus, what the hell was he gonna do about it? Reno was no match for Sephiroth. Hell, no one’s a match for Sephiroth! he mused. That fucker could take over the world if he really wanted to.

* * *

Sephiroth’s favorite drink was tequila, straight up. A lot of people assumed he was into floozy mixed drinks because of his long hair and feminine face. But no, there was nothing that tasted better to Sephiroth than a shot of cheap tequila. There was something about that taste – harsh, raw and throat-numbing – it never disguised itself as something smooth and luxurious. It sounded like trouble and tasted like death. Tequila was honest with its consumer – when you drink it, you always know what you’re getting into. The last time Sephiroth had drank tequila, he had taken a knife in the gut and fucked Reno’s brains out over a petty dispute. But it was tequila. These things were to be expected.

He drank whiskey when he was in a bad mood.

He drank tequila when he was in a really bad mood.

But no, he wasn’t planning on getting in a fight tonight. He was tired of violence, drama and morbid twists to the pathetic plot of his life. Could it even get any worse? He vaguely remembered waking up in Hojo’s lab. He was in a tank, that same fucking tank he had seen a few days earlier while wandering around in a red-hazed dream. It all felt like a dream. But the way that glass had cut his hands when he punched through it and the distinct snapping of that scientist’s bones as he broke them weren’t dreamlike at all. The guts were tangibly warm when he ripped them out, and the head had squished with an all too lifelike schlopping sound in his hands. Dream or reality?

He just didn’t know anymore. He didn’t really want to know.

All Sephiroth knew was that he missed Rufus. Not even for the sex… he just missed his company. A lot of people assumed he was a loner and didn’t associate with anyone. Those people were probably the same idiots that assumed he liked floozy drinks. Well, he was usually a loner, but this night was an exception. Tonight he was lonely. And a little afraid… He was rarely – if ever – afraid of anything, but tonight he was afraid of his own mind.

How far can Hojo push me before I just fucking snap? he wondered. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could last like this, not knowing his past. He felt like he was standing on the edge of a cliff, teetering on the verge of something terrible. Was Hojo right to keep quiet all these years? Was he just better off not knowing?

Something horrible was going to happen soon… he could feel it in his bones.

*AUTHOR'S NOTE* Sorry... three whole chapters and no sex?! You're probably thinking I'm a heinous bitch right now. But don't worry. Next chapter: nothing but sex. It will be an apocalypse of sex, a nuclear meltdown of sex. Okay, okay... you get it.