Fools

The thing nobody seems to get is how Reno – sloppy, irresponsible, probably-off-the-deep-end Reno – can possibly hold down a job as a Turk. Tseng likes to tell him he’s a mess, that he needs to get his shit together, but there’s nothing Tseng can do as long as Reno’s getting the job done. Rude might see, a little, that Reno’s capable, at least, but Rude doesn’t say a whole lot.

Reno is a fucking great actor, because he’s got a lot more self-discipline than he’ll ever get the credit for. At least, from anyone but Rufus Shinra.

Rufus is the one who’s tested it, time and again. He’s the one who’s helped Reno perfect it.

Reno’s got a lot of fucking patience, too, knows how to bide his time, because he’s spent so much of it waiting, bound or otherwise incapacitated, for Rufus to do something. He’s spent enough time on his knees in the boss’s office, unable to touch himself while he got Rufus off in any number of ways, that he knows how to focus on anything but the slow seconds slipping tortuously by.

And right now, he’s holding himself perfectly still, though from his slouch, nobody would know it. And that’s the point, that nobody knows that while Rufus carries on a meeting with the department heads, one of his personal bodyguards has a plug shoved tight inside him, stretching him wide and making him want, desperately, to squirm or groan or do anything but sit there, clenching tightly and holding still as possible to keep it in.

He wills his cock to stay down and forces himself to look as bored as possible, though maybe his expression is vacant because he’s trying hard to think about anything but what Rufus is going to do with him when this meeting is over. Rufus manages to give him a look during Heidegger’s report that says he can see the tension in Reno’s body, can see everything he wants and everything he’s denying himself, and it takes all his discipline to keep from moaning.

But everyone else? Reno’s got them fooled.