The Rise

Reno saw bright light on his eyelids before he was aware of waking up, much too bright for him to be back at his windowless coffin. The sense snapped him to attention, and then he was staring up at the ceiling with eyes open wide. He turned to his side, cringing when a familiar soreness made itself known, mouth dropping open a little bit as he looked out the window.

High-rise buildings, streets, people walking down plant-lined sidewalks. Daylight, so much more vibrant than the artificial light he was so used to. He was above plate. Reno cringed again as he sat up, feeling crusty and gross, skin flaky with dry sweat and other things. The man in the white suit was nowhere to be found, not even a trace, so Reno figured it would be okay to use the shower to rinse off.

The man in the white suit. Sick, sadistic pervert. His degradation at that man's hands. . . Reno flushed, glaring down at his traitorous nether regions for the twitch he had just felt. But. . . he was alive. The guy had let him go. Reno wondered, stomach fluttering, if this meant he was cool with Shinra. The last thing he wanted was an army of blue suits or, God forbid, SOLDIERs coming after him. The man in the white suit had seemed to be connected with the organization, and if a night of kinky sex was the trade off for being able to keep his life, Reno was okay with that.

He came out of the shower, still sore but cleaner than he had been in a long time, and found his clothing in a neat pile on a chair. He made a check as he put it on. The money he had lifted from Wong was there, though the USB drive was not. Well, at least he had made some money, and it would keep him for awhile. He left the room and the club, stepping out into the fresh air. Funny, he thought, heading to the nearest inter-plate elevators, it didn't bother him as much as it did when he was a kid. The fresh air and the sun on his skin. . . it kind of felt nice.

At this time of day that was a huge line going up plate, maids and other menial laborers reporting to work, but there wasn't much going down, so Reno didn't have to wait too long. Pretty soon he was back in the slums and on his way to Gabe's place.

He was soon in the familiar office, clutter threatening to spill out of the walls, guards stationed just outside the door.

"My man," Gabe began, "do you have the goods?"

"What the fuck, Mort?" Reno asked, leaning forward a bit as he gripped the armrests of his chair. "You didn't say anything about Shinra being involved!"

Gabe's face turned pensive, fingers folding in and out of themselves. "I take that as a no."

"You bet your ass, it's a no! I barely got out of there alive, for fuck's sake."

"And how did you?" Gabe stood up then, slowly, calmly, behind his desk, and his massive bulk made Reno flinch a little bit. "Get away from Shinra, that is."

"It's not like I haven't gotten away from worse. Sides, who knows if they're going to come after me or not. Mort, this is not what I signed up for."

Mort nodded, sitting down again. "Perhaps I should have been. . . upfront from the get go."

Reno snorted. "Ya think?"

Mort counted out some bills and laid them out on the table, a thin stack equidistant from both of them. "A payment for your troubles. If Shinra gives you trouble, be sure to let us know."

Reno stared at the money, incredulous. It looked to be about one-fourth of what he would have made had the transfer gone through, which was still a good haul for him. He had come to Gabe's expecting to play him for another, less dangerous job, but was happy to find the large man in a generous mood today.

"Now, friend, I have some business to attend to."

"Yeah, sure," Reno replied, scooping up the cash to wad down his pocket. "I'll be seeing you then."

Gabe watched as Reno left the office, his facial features betraying only deep thought and no emotions.

"A penny for your thoughts." A deep voice, smooth and well-educated. The man attached to the voice detached himself from the shadows to enter the room. Well-muscled but slim as compared to Gabe's hulk, the man bore himself with that perfect posture common to Wutai inhabitants, his sleek, black brushed up and back from his face.

"There's something funny about that boy," Gabe replied. "The Blue Room must have been crawling with Turks last night. Even if they didn't kill him there, they would have killed him by this morning. So what the fuck is he doing walking into my office? Reno's good for a slum punk, and he's lucky, but that luck doesn't play when Shinra's involved."

Gabe leaned forward, reflecting. Many people might look at him and see all brawn and no brain, but there was a reason why he had gotten to where he was in the world. Navigating the Midgar underworld was tricky business, and Gabe was still alive and thriving for a reason. Finally, he turned to his confidant. "Yuta. Do you think you can have someone follow him? See if he's hiding anything. Of course, it could all be nothing, but. . . doesn't hurt to be a little paranoid."

"Of course," Yuta replied, "consider it done."

* * *

"What's it like being unemployed?" Hedge asked jokingly, as the three friends nursed some beers during a rare day that they were all off.

"I'd say it feels pretty damn good," Reno said, waving the bills he was using to pay for another round. "What's it like working the nine to five?"

"Not bad when you have a friend treating you to drinks every night," Hedge replied.

The three were at a tiny bar named Seventh Heaven, another one of Seven's properties. According to Dill, though, the place was hemorrhaging money, and Seven was eager to sell it off. If only he could find a naive buyer, some one who wasn't from Midgar, some one who didn't know what dumpy business it did.

"Do you know what would improve these nachos?" Dill asked, sampling the standard Seventh Heaven fare. "Anchovies and corn."

"No," Hedge and Reno said in unison.

"My friends," Hedge started, clearing his throat, obviously preparing for another one of his little speeches. "It's a truly momentous occasion for which we have gathered here today-"

"Being off from working?" Reno asked, at the same time Dill said, "What's with the language? Are we at a wedding?"

"-as I was saying, a day on which we have all been off of work has not occurred in a fortnight-"

"I'm pretty sure none of us even knows what a fortnight is, yo."

"-and to celebrate, I propose that we move our boozing and carousing to the one, the only, the legendary Bumblebee Inn."

Reno raised an eyebrow. "Isn't Bumblebee full of cross-dressers and fat chicks?"

"I told you he had a thing for the big ones," Dill said to Reno.

"Hey, don't knock them till you've tried them," Hedge said, "more cushion for the pushin, is all I'm saying."

"Hey, Dill," Reno said.

"What, Reno?"

"How are a fat chick and a moped similar?"

"Gee, Reno, I don't know, how are they similar?"

"They're both fun to ride, until your friends catch you doing it."

Reno and Dill burst out laughing, Hedge only shaking his head at their little joke. "Not cool, man, not cool."

"Fine," Reno said, "you want Bumblebee? Let's go to Bumblebee. I'll even pay for your room, if you manage to land a girl."

"Sweet. Well, what are we still sitting here for. Onwards, gentlemen!"

The three of them stumbled out of the bar and towards the garishly lit Sector 8. It wasn't much of a walk, and they had no problem getting into the club. Hedge, after all, had had a member's only card since they had been thirteen. They settled into a couch in the corner of the auditorium. No shows were on tonight, but the alcohol was always flowing at Bumblebee, and it wasn't long before there was a cluster of girls around them. Hedge was all over a pretty, if somewhat fuller figured, girl, who he spent about an hour talking to. He stood up then, the girl's hand in his, and rubbed his fingers together in front of Reno.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll put it on my tab."

Eventually Dill started to regale the girls with his slightly-exaggerate adventures as a master chef, and Reno took the opportunity to go use the restroom. He was coming out of the bathroom when Hedge came running by, a huge pair of panties hanging around his neck.

"Dill! Reno!" he yelled, out of breath, "we have to go!"

Dill looked away, pretending he didn't know who Hedge was. Reno, on the other hand, had no such luxury, as Hedge grabbed onto his sleeve as he ran past. He was caught up in Hedge's pace as they ran out of the club, footfalls close behind them.

"What the fuck did you do this time?" Reno yelled, but Hedge only laughed.

"The girl? Don Corneo's daughter!"

Reno had to laugh at that. Dill seducing the daughter of Sector 8's most degenerate pimp. . . still, pissing off Corneo was no laughing matter. He and his goons weren't the most skilled, or even competent, people around, but they still managed to fuck a guy up pretty bad every now and then. Plus, they had the numbers game won when it came to two kids from the gutter.

Reno followed as Hedge cut a corner, then shot into the half-open door of some abandoned building. He followed, a few seconds behind, and found himself abruptly stopped as he ran into another person. He steadied himself and looked up, into all to familiar blue eyes. Reno flushed at their proximity, at the man in the white suit's hand wrapping around his arm.

"Fancy meeting you here."

But then the man was letting go, and Reno took the opportunity to run.

The man watched him for a little bit, but then the goons who had been chasing Reno and his friend came to a stop in front of him. The man regarded their questioning expressions for just a moment.

"I believe the gentlemen you're looking for went that way," he said, pointing in the opposite direction.

* * *

Reno slid a hand into his boxers, scratching as he made a way to the tiny refrigerator he had bought for the coffin. There wasn't really any space for it, so right now it stood under the shower. It was either that or next to the toilet, and Reno didn't like the idea of his beer next to the questionable plumbing. He reached in and grabbed a bottle, cigarette dangling from his lips, wishing there was a way he could drink and smoke at the same time.

A knock on the door, and Reno groaned. If it was his landlord he was early, and Reno could do without that old man's crap for today.

"I'm coming, yo," he called, not that it would take that long to get from one end of the coffin to another. He swung open the door, and stopped, cigarette falling from his mouth.

The man in the white suit, only he was in a black suit today. Through his shock Reno had a fleeting thought that the black suited him better, that he looked good, better than a man in a standard, drab black suit should.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Reno asked, but the man was already inside, closing the door behind him.

"So this is how the rest of the world lives," he said. "How absolutely tragic."

"I asked you a question," Reno snarled, treading the boundaries of what he could and couldn't get away with. The guy didn't seem to be with any guards or blue suits today, and Reno thought that maybe he could take him, incapacitate him and run. He'd have to run the hell away from Midgar, if he had any chance of staying alive, but it was an option.

"It's your fault, you know. After seeing you the other day I realized that I should come visit. Catch up on old times."

"Funny," Reno spit out, not bothering to ask what someone like this guy was doing below plate to began with, how he had gotten Reno's address. Nothing was above Shinra, not in a place like this. The man was coming closer to him now, and Reno backed up, backed up until his head hit to wall with a painful thud.

"What's your name, anyway?" he asked, partly to stall as he figured out what he was going to do, partly out of nervousness. He flinched as the man came to within a few feet of him, placing one hand, and then the other, on the wall on either side of him. "It's not fair that you know everything about me, and I know nothing about you."

"Rufus-"

"What kind of name is-"

"Rufus Shinra."

Reno felt his blood run cold, any thoughts of fighting and running away disappearing from his head. Rufus' breath was hot against the skin of his neck as the blond man leaned down to place a kiss there, and when he came back up his eyes were a laser focus on Reno's face. Amused, measuring, a cat playing with its food.

"What's wrong, Reno?"

"Nothing," Reno managed to get out, wondering at the mess he had gotten himself into this time. The son of the de facto ruler of the free world. His reputation had reached even the farthest crevices of the slums, stories about what was done to people who had pissed him off. "I think you should leave, yo."

"Do you," Rufus purred, coming a few inches closer. "Let me explain a few things to you, Reno."

Reno flushed at their proximity, at the body heat that was coming off the other man in waves.

"One. What you think is of absolutely no consequence to me."

A finger, trailing down the thin fabric of his t-shirt, over the center of his stomach.

"And two. You're lying to yourself if you think that you want me to leave."

Reno's breathing all but stopped as Rufus' finger made its way lower, tracing over the stiff tent in his boxers that had formed over the last few minutes. If it was possible for him to turn even redder, Reno was sure that he was doing so at that moment. He averted his eyes from Rufus' cool stare, embarrassed at his body's reaction to the man.

"What are you thinking of, Reno? What dirty thoughts are passing through your head?"

"Shut up," Reno muttered, but all it earned him was an amused glance. He obtained some relief, however, when Rufus backed away, seating himself on the edge of the bed.

"Take off your shirt."

A relief short-lived. Reno hesitated, but only for a moment, fingers dancing on the edge of his shirt before pulling it up and off. He felt self-conscious with Rufus' now dark eyes scrutinizing him, felt cold even in the heat of the room.

"Lose the ponytail."

Reno reached up, snapping off the band as red hair fell over his shoulders.

"The shorts, now, but not all the way. Only enough so I can see your dick and balls. I want to watch you play with yourself."

Reno tugged the front of his boxers down with one hand as he pulled his cock out with the other. It was already so hard, an angry red color, and it felt so good to be able to touch it. It felt even better, he thought with shame, that Rufus was watching him do it.

Several clear, succinct clicks broke his reverie, and he looked up to see that Rufus had his cell phone out and pointed at him.

"What-" Reno shot forward, making a grab for the cell. He could see Rufus' eyes widen minutely, most likely surprised by the speed of his movements, but it lasted for only a moment before Rufus had his wrist in a vice grip and was twisting it behind his back. He could feel Rufus' chest against his back, and the very clear outline of a shotgun through his jacket fabric.

"Back against the wall," Rufus snarled, pushing Reno back with such force that he stumbled against it.

Reno rubbed his wrist where Rufus had twisted it, but eventually stood back up, leaning back against the wall. He was dejected to find that his erection hadn't suffered at all during the small interlude, and after a few more moments his hand moved down again, awkward and clumsy this time.

Rufus picked something up from the floor next to the bed, tossing it at Reno. Reno caught it effortlessly, the small container of baby oil familiar in his hand.

"Turn around and put your hands against the wall. I want to see you fuck yourself."

Reno turned around and bent over, pulling his shorts down a little more. There was more clicking from behind him, and he flushed to think of Rufus and his rich society friends getting together and laughing about these photos. He poured oil over his fingers and dropped the bottle, moving his hand behind himself and downwards. His eyes closed at the first breach, but he knew exactly what angles he liked, and soon he had himself moaning as he fucked himself with his fingers.

A warm presence, behind him, and Reno pressed back against it as Rufus' hands wrapped around his hips. He could fee the hardness press against his ass and he reached for it, guiding it inside of him. His mouth parted in a sigh to have Rufus inside of him again. It felt good, too good, and even better when Rufus started thrusting in and out of him. A hand wrapped itself in his hair and pulled his head back onto a shoulder, an angle that was almost painful, and small bites were lavished on his neck. He tried to focus, instead, on the pleasure that was coming from his backside, from the cock that was fucking his ass.

Rufus tensed as he came, a sudden, vocal breath the only noise he made as Reno felt hot cum shoot into him. Rufus kept thrusting with each spurt, but then he was pulling out, a sudden movement that made Reno cringe. He could feel hot cum leak out and down his thighs, and Rufus was taking pictures of that too. He felt himself being turned around, back against the wall.

"I want you to come on camera," Rufus said, voice husky, and Reno nodded as he wrapped his hand around his cock again. It only took a few strokes before he was coming, small streams of white shooting upwards to fall back down to the carpet. He was moaning, but then his legs started to feel weak. He let himself sink down along the wall, boxer shorts still around his ankles.

When he looked back up Rufus had already zipped up his pants, and was smoothing his hair back.

"Thank you, Reno," he said, a pleased smirk on his lips, "for the lovely evening."

He left without even giving Reno another glance, but at that point Reno didn't particularly care. This situation wasn't ideal, he thought, head running in circles. . . but maybe he could use this relationship to his advantage. Rufus Shinra, after all, wasn't the worse person a guy like him could know.