Something Real

by A Darker Shade

Rufus and Reno get married.

I have been terrible at updating recently, but I will be continuing with my previous stories. Thank you everyone who has read, reviewed and faved.

I wrote most of this a long time ago, but the ending has been influenced by thoughts arising from a challenge CameoAmalthea set me on the Genesis Awards boards. I'm working on it, Cam - it's running away with me! I'll post all the bits of it here when it's done.

This is kind of a crack fic. Halloween is approaching, so if the idea of Rufus and Reno getting married fills you with horror, please think of it as a horror story!

M for OOC events, sex on the gondola ride, misuse of expensive clothing etc. The wedding vows and traditions here are from our world - I'm sure theirs would be different really.

---

Something Real

or

Rufus and Reno Get Married!

Reno was attempting to sleep off an unusually bad hangover, but something loud and annoying was stopping him.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

The hotel room was shaking, the tacky fake cobwebs by the door vibrating at the edge of his one-eyed blurry vision. Reno opened the other eye, trying to ignore the pain as a tidal wave of tinsel-bright stars fizzed across his brain.

Ow. Fuck! Wha –

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Earthquake? No – too regular. Someone knocking down the hotel? Would be an improvement. Who the hell themes a hotel on a haunted house anyway? But – no. Somebody at the door.

"Reno, wake up."

Shit. He'd recognise that irritatingly non-whiney voice anywhere. Why did the brat have to have a voice like fucking melted – sex on a –

What?

Reno dragged himself out of bed almost literally – rolling sideways until he felt the floor rising up to meet him, then hauling himself upright, hands on the edge of the bed. Damn it – worse than he thought – his arms were shaking. Serious bender. Been a long –

"Reno!"

"Ow! Don't fucking shout. I'm comin'."

Weaving towards the door like a punch-drunk boxer, Reno suddenly remembered the fight. Well – that explained why his head hurt so much. Shit. And he hadn't even been hitting on the girl whose furious SOLDIER boyfriend had punched him out so efficiently – it had all been a misunderstanding – seriously – Reno had actually been hitting on him. Thinking about it, "Why don'tcha drop this loser, gorgeous?" may have been an ambiguous chat-up line. Not that it would have made much difference to the outcome if the SOLDIER had understood Reno's actual intentions. Probably. Could never tell with SOLDIERs. Sometimes it was worth the risk, and Reno spent most of his life doing things on a whim anyway. What the hell - at least it kept things interesting.

"Reno – open the door!"

How did Rufus manage to sound even sexier when he was angry? That just wasn't fair. Reno lurched for the door handle. On the third go, he succeeded in grabbing it, and yanked the door open. Rufus stood in the doorway, doing a reasonable impression of sober, but his one closed eye gave him away. That eye opened suddenly, and Rufus' expression changed from impatience to something between shock and frank lust. Reno looked down and realised that he was naked.

"'M off duty," he slurred, by way of explanation, not apology. "Two days off. I'll be sober by Tuesday."

"Oh – fine. I'll go then," said Rufus, his eyes narrowing into an expression that might have looked cunning if it were rather less lopsided. "I'll just wander around the Saucer on my own and see how much trouble –"

"Shit Rufus – where's your protection?" Reno interrupted, suddenly managing to sound almost professional.

"Don't know. I lost him somewhere. Near the rollercoaster," Rufus grinned. He leaned on the doorframe, all six foot of damned physical perfection, far too many buttons undone on that black shirt, white jacket hanging open, blond hair gleaming under the low lights of the corridor. Reno was too hung-over to remember to conceal his appreciative stare, until Rufus raised an ironic eyebrow.

"Yeah – so – you'd better come in. I'll call Tseng – tell him you're safe," Reno said, wondering where in hell he'd put his PHS.

"Am I safe?" Rufus asked, entering the room and closing the door behind him. "How disappointing."

"You shouldn't say shit like that unless you mean it," Reno warned.

"You know I mean it," Rufus replied, his focus suddenly sharp.

Reno frowned. "Since when? Last I knew we were fooling around and then you became VP and that was over."

"I never said that."

"Not in words. Just backed waaay off."

"Did you miss me?"

Reno just shot him a look before retrieving his uniform pants from the back of a chair and pulling them on. The PHS was in the back pocket.

"Two years, nearly," Rufus said. Reno didn't comment.

"I came straight here," Rufus told him. "Rod'll still be looking. If you call Tseng…"

"Fine," Reno replied, scrolling down to Rod's number instead. "Though – why I should save his sorry ass…"

"He wouldn't do the same for you?"

"Yeah," said Reno. "Yeah, he would. That's why, I guess. If you wanted to see me, why didn't you just wait until I was on duty?" He turned his attention to the PHS as Rod's voice, static and panicked, said, "Reno – the VP's –"

"Yeah, relax – he's here. - I said relax. - Yeah – well – who's on next? - So – you call Trig and tell him to pick Rufus up here at the start of his shift, and you can owe me one. - Yeah, I will. - Hey – it's me. Of course Tseng'll be cool with it."

Reno slipped the PHS back into his pocket, and looked at Rufus. "So – you got four hours to sit around here watching me having a fucking terrible hangover. Congratulations." Reno flung himself back onto the bed, closing his eyes and groaning as the mattress bounced sickeningly underneath him.

Rufus shook his head. "That's not the plan. Here." Something landed on the bed beside Reno. Reno squinted at the small bottle.

"Potions don't cure a fuckin' hangover. Believe me – I've tried."

"It's not a normal potion. It works, trust me."

Reno's cynical laugh made Rufus smile a little bitterly, but he said, "It's true. I've taken it myself, several times. Try it."

"You a pusher now, Rufus? Or Hojo's bag-boy, huh?"

"Funny. Well – it's up to you. But I'm going back out there, so…"

Reno picked up the bottle. It was unlabelled. "What's in this shit?"

"Potion, a kind of Barrier adjusted to knock out signals to pain transmitters in the brain – only ones already firing; you'll still know about it if you run into a wall – caffeine... It works."

"No unrefined Mako? I'm not gonna get glowy SOLDIER eyes am I?"

"No. I told you – I've taken it myself."

"Okay. I'll have some if you do."

"I haven't got a hangover. And there's only one dose in that bottle."

"What the hell. Can't make me feel any worse than I do already!" Reno unscrewed the cap and downed the concoction in one go. "Huh. Tastes better than potions anyway. Not that it's doing any – Holy fuck!"

Rufus smiled. "Better?"

Reno stared at him. "That's –"

"Works, doesn't it?"

"That's incredible! Shit – why don't we market this stuff? Make a killing!"

"It was decided that for the sake of public safety we'd keep this one under wraps."

"I don't get –"

"The threat of a hangover is one of the few things that deters most people from drinking too much. Can you imagine the cost to the Shinra Medical Shervice if people were suddenly able to drink as much as they liked with impunity? Hah! 'Rufus slurs Shinra Service'. Say that when you're wasted."

Reno shook his head, amazed that the action no longer hurt him. "I was never deterred by the threat of a hangover!"

"Yes – but you're not 'most people', Reno."

"Tseng sings songs."

"What?"

"Oh – I know. That Second, Zack Fair, made up this one: 'Genesis's second summons'.

"'Rufus Shinra shummons Shiva'. Shit."

"Yeah – that's hard. 'Rufus Shinra shummons Shiva shit.'"

"Ha ha." Rufus leaned against the inside of the doorframe, and looked Reno up and down deliberately. "Put some more clothes on, Reno. We're going out."

"Where to?"

"Around. There's so much of this place I haven't seen yet."

"And you want to see more of it? Wouldn't've thought this place would be your style."

"Why not? What do you consider to be my s – style?" Rufus somehow managed to slip off the doorframe and took two stumbling steps into the room, barely managing to stay upright.

Reno laughed. "Was gonna say 'classy'. You know, you wanna do a good impression of sober, you need to stand still and learn to deal with the Ss." Reno found a shirt hanging lopsidedly off a high-backed wooden chair carved into the shape of a bat. He pulled on the shirt as Rufus leaned carefully back against the door, watching.

"My dad hit me once," Rufus remembered, sounding matter of fact about it, "because I couldn't say 'sh'. I was four or five. Found out later that it's a normal part of language development, but he hated any sign that I might be behind other children. Made me say 'Shinra' over and over, but I just couldn't. Sinra. Huh. Oddly appropriate."

Reno glanced back at Rufus as he hunted under the bed for his jacket. "Sucks. My dad hit me for existing, but hell – we came through it right? And now we have all this!" He got to his feet, jacket in hand, and gestured ironically around the chaotic room, strewn with clothes and decorated with various fake plastic suits of armour and heraldic shields in unlikely neon colours.

Rufus watched Reno shrug into his crumpled uniform jacket admiring the fit of it on the Turk's lean form. "You act like you don't care about your clothes," he said, "but I bet you tried on a dozen of those before you picked that one."

Reno grinned. "Takes some effort to look this casual. You should talk to your daddy about providing us with made-to-measure. I'll be two minutes." He disappeared into the bathroom, and Rufus waited, listening to the sound of an electric toothbrush, a tap running, Reno's surprisingly tuneful humming as he presumably did something with that absurd hair. Looking at the disordered bed, Rufus felt relieved that he'd found Reno alone. When he'd become Vice President, he'd thought it prudent to call a halt to the occasional encounters he'd been enjoying with Reno, but he hadn't realised the strength of his attraction to the man until he'd begun to find that no one else measured up. He had missed Reno. He wanted Reno. It had been much too long.

When Reno finally emerged from the bathroom at least ten minutes later, Rufus had to admit it was worth the wait. That volcanic red hair, which had been an utter mess, was now an artfully arranged kind of dishevelled that looked fantastic. Reno's shirt was open at the neck just enough to be provocative without being obvious. All his lines and angles simply worked. Rufus couldn't help staring.

Reno crossed the room, and came so close to Rufus that for one hopeful moment Rufus thought that the Turk was going to kiss him. But he only gave an infuriating smile as though he could read Rufus' mind, and began doing up the buttons on that expensive black shirt. "Can't have you wandering around the Saucer looking like some pretty, high-class rent-boy, VP," Reno commented, the light touch of his fingers through the fine, soft cotton setting Rufus' skin tingling, making his breath catch.

"What if that was the look I was going for?"

"Well then you'd just be asking for trouble," replied Reno, fastening Rufus' jacket, "and it's my job to keep you out of that. There. Better. I'll get my gun -"

"Good luck finding that!"

Immediately Reno took the gun from beneath a pillow and checked it before slipping it into the inside pocket of his jacket. "Once had a girlfriend used to take her makeup off every night before she went to sleep no matter what – sober, drunk or high," Reno said. "She said it was the one thing she could never forget. With me, it's where I put my weapons."

"I don't want to hear about your girlfriends," Rufus said, his expression almost sulky.

"Oh - okay. Well, there was this one guy –"

"Or your boyfriends. Come on – we're wasting time."

"Okay, okay!" Reno laughed. "Where we going, Boss?"

Rufus led the way out of the hotel and down the steep hill to the fake tombstone bearing the inscription "Chocobo". "We'll start at the races," he said, "and take it from there."

Reno gave an approving nod. "Sounds like this is a job I'm actually gonna enjoy," he replied, taking his place beside Rufus on the turf-covered hydraulic platform and leaning across to press the button on the tombstone that would cause it to descend into the tunnels where a rapidly moving travelator would transport them to Chocobo Square.

x

Reno was feeling good. In fact he was feeling better than good. So was Rufus to judge by the way he was smiling. A part of Reno's mind was trying to send him a warning – Rufus has the excuse of being drunk, but you're on duty. Why do you feel like you've had about five pints of the planet's best beer? A much bigger part of his brain, though, was busy congratulating itself on his success at the races, and the warning went unheeded.

"Sign of a misspent youth," Rufus said, glancing at the GP-filled bulges in Reno's jacket pockets.

"You didn't do so bad yourself," Reno grinned.

"No – well, I never claimed to have spent my youth well. And I was always good at calculating odds. I warned you Foxy-Loxy was a long-shot."

"Yeah, but I liked the look of him."

"I guess it did look like some long-lost relative of yours…"

"Hey!" Reno reached over and mussed Rufus' perfect hair. "Chocobo right back at ya, golden boy." He watched as Rufus ran his hands through his dishevelled locks with a tut that wasn't nearly as irritated as it might have been, and a barely suppressed smile.

"Where to now?" Reno asked, once Rufus had rearranged his ruffled feathers to his satisfaction.

"I don't know. Let's just see where we end up," replied Rufus setting off in an apparently random direction. Somewhere near Wonder Square they passed a hideously decorated glowing building that was apparently supposed to represent an Ancient shrine, like the ones found in the remains of the old capital on the Northern Continent. It was ornamented with huge plastic seashells in iridescent pearl colours. A clearly intoxicated couple came staggering out – she in a frothy fuchsia dress and an incongruous-looking white veil, he in a tux.

"Can you believe that people actually choose to get married here?" Reno laughed, incredulous.

"Yes," said Rufus. "Let's."

Reno laughed harder. "Yeah – right. I can see Veld's face – your dad's! 'Did you have a good time at the Saucer, son?' 'Yes, thanks. Oh, by the way - I married Reno while I was there. Hope that's okay.'"

"Exactly," Rufus smiled. "It would probably finish off my old man."

"Yeah – right before Veld finished off me!"

Rufus shrugged. "Veld's a practical man. He'd live with a fait accompli."

"You'd have to propose properly," Reno joked. "I don't marry just anybody, you know."

Rufus dropped to one knee in the middle of the busy thoroughfare. "Reno – do you have a last name?"

"'Of the Turks', I guess."

"Reno of the Turks – will you marry me?"

Reno looked down at Rufus. "Well," he said thoughtfully, "let's see. Sexy as fuck? – check. Rich? Check. Powerful? Check. Nice car? What're you driving at the moment?"

"Whatever you like. I'll buy you a helicopter as a wedding present. You can fly us to our honeymoon in it."

"Chopper, huh? Okay, sounds like a deal."

"Is that a yes?"

"Hell yeah!"

"Come on then." Rufus got to his feet, grabbed Reno's wrist and started walking towards the temple.

Reno went with him, unresisting, but stopped as they neared the scallop-shell-shaped door. "Yeah, yeah – funny. So – what d'you wanna do next?"

"Marry you."

"Yeah, sure – but seriously?"

"Oh – I don't know. There are casinos aren't there? Shows? But I want to look in here first – see what it's like."

"Why? You know it'll be tacky as all fuck."

"I'm sure it will. That's why I want to see it. I'm so sick of operas and art galleries and all the other official rubbish I have to go to."

Reno looked sympathetic, remembering several interminable productions of 'Loveless' he'd been forced to sit through in his capacity as bodyguard for the President. "Okay – we'll take a look," he agreed.

The temple was deserted apart from an elderly couple seated quietly in one of the pews that formed two short rows running the length of the building. The interior of the temple was decorated in gold and white – all classical columns and crude copies of Ancient art – thin figures on golden backgrounds. The effect was less tacky than the outside only by virtue of the low, soft lighting. At the far end of the room was an altar on which stood a large natural conch shell. By the doors stood an ordinary metal vending machine looking absurdly out-of-place. Reno wandered over to it. "Classy," he observed, dryly. "Two-GP wedding rings. You want gold-lookin' or silver-lookin'?"

"I always thought I'd go for mythril, if it came to the point," Rufus replied. "You?"

"Never thought about it either way," Reno said. "Ain't no one gettin' a ring on me." He flashed Rufus a salacious grin. "Not on my finger, anyway."

Rufus reached into his pocket and put four GP into the machine, pressing the combination for 'silver' and male, twice.

"Not like you don't have the gil to waste, Boss," Reno said, "But what're the chances of those even fitting?"

"Well, as you pointed out," Rufus replied, "these are classy products. I believe they expand to fit."

"Great. More stylish to use ring-pulls."

"It's symbolic. It doesn't matter."

"Yeah – but what'd'you want them for?"

Rufus came close to Reno and said, sotto voce, "We could give those old folks something to talk about. Come on, Reno – everyone thinks I'm in Junon, and I haven't been in the press for years. No one will recognise me."

"What? What – you don't want me to pretend…? No way. I'm not the marryin' kind – even for a joke."

"Go on – it'll be funny. You're not scared are you?"

"You're drunk."

"And you're definitely related to that chocobo." Rufus started making soft clucking sounds. Reno scowled. "I'm not scared. It's just stupid, is all."

"If you weren't scared, you wouldn't care."

"Oh – what the fuck ever. Tell me what to do."

Rufus took Reno's arm and pulled him up the aisle until they both stood in front of the seashell altar. Reno glanced at the old couple, but neither one of them seemed to be taking much notice.

Rufus took Reno's hand, and said, "Repeat after me. I Reno –"

"I Reno," Reno echoed obediently, followed by a whispered, "They don't even care. You could fuck me on the altar and I don't think they'd care."

"Take thee, Rufus –" persisted Rufus.

"Thee? I ain't 'thee-ing' for no one. Look – I've seen films an' shit. I know how it goes." Taking a breath, Reno announced clearly, "I Reno take you Rufus to be my lawful wedded – well, I ain't being the wife, so I guess - wife –"

"No," said Rufus, firmly. "Both of us would be 'husband'."

"Okay, whatever. – Lawful wedded husband, to have and to hold or whatever, in sickness – no good around sick people – and health, for richer, for – well, yeah - definitely for richer - till one of us gets a bullet in the brain or checks out some other way. Okay?"

"Hardly traditional," Rufus said, "But it will do. I, Rufus, take thee, Reno, to be my lawful wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; from this day forward until death do us part."

"Heh – well done," said Reno. "You didn't even shlur the S's. In shickness…"

"Shut up, Reno." Reaching into the pocket of his jacket Rufus took out the two rings. Holding Reno's left hand firmly, he slipped one of the rings onto his third finger before he had a chance to protest. The metal, what ever it was, gleamed brightly in the soft temple lights. Thinking that he may as well go along with the act, since the old folks were actually watching now, Reno took the other ring, which felt surprisingly heavy, and put it on Rufus' finger. "We done n –?" he started to say, but he was interrupted by Rufus' hands on the sides of his face, and Rufus' mouth on his own. Fuck – he'd forgotten how Rufus could kiss! When Rufus drew away, Reno felt a reluctance to stop that surprised him. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed Rufus' confident physicality.

"I think they're convinced," Rufus murmured. He looked up, and gave the elderly couple a dazzling smile. "Would you take a picture for us?" he asked, taking his phone from his pocket and holding it out to the woman. She nodded eagerly, said, "Congratulations. Don't get many like this – makes a change!"

"What do you mean?" Reno asked. "I thought you were tourists?"

"That's right, dear," the woman said. "We come every year to watch the weddings. Say 'honeymoon'!"

Rufus took Reno's arm, and turned him to face the camera. "Smile, darling," he said. Reno rolled his eyes, but smiled anyway. The woman kept her finger on the screen, so that, when Rufus took the phone back from her, there were a dozen pictures on the camera roll. The man appeared at Rufus' elbow. "When we got married, we signed one of these souvenir certificates," he said, showing Rufus a small table, set to one side, on which lay a pile of gilt-edged certificates decorated with more seashells for luck.

Rufus took out his beautiful silver fountain pen and signed his name. Reno frowned. "Is that a good idea?"

"It's for us to keep, no one else," Rufus said. "Go on, Reno. Icing on the cake – since we don't have a cake."

"Oh – all right. Then can we go?"

"Yes, of course," Rufus replied, watching as Reno scrawled his name across the piece of paper. Rufus took the certificate, folded it and put it into his wallet. As they made their way out of the temple, the old woman caught Reno's arm and whispered, "You take care of him, you hear? He loves you."

"I always take care of him," Reno replied. "It's – like a job."

Once they were back on the main street, Reno said, "Well – that was kinda weird! What now?"

"The gondola ride," Rufus said, firmly.

"You kidding? That thing goes at – what – two miles per hour?"

"Yes – for thirty, surveillance-free, camera-less minutes. We should consummate the marriage, after all."

Reno looked at him. "Consummate? As in – fuck?"

Rufus sighed. "You know, I only married you for your romantic way with words. Yes, as in fuck."

"Well – that sounds more like it!" Reno said, more enthusiastic than he'd been all evening.

x

Stripped of everything but his unbuttoned white shirt, Reno leaned his elbows on the edge of the gondola car window, half aware of the lights of the Gold Saucer far below as Rufus thrust into him hard, his hand just tight enough on Reno's dick. With perfect timing, fireworks burst around them as Rufus came, but the explosions didn't prevent Reno from hearing Rufus moan his name in that low, sexy voice. When Rufus let go of his cock and pulled out of him, Reno turned and kissed him.

"Your turn," Rufus said, still breathing hard.

"Yes, Sir!"

"You don't call me sir anymore," Rufus said. "Except when you're at work."

"I'm technically at work now."

"Then I'm order – no – asking you to call me by my name. In the circumstances."

"Rufus?" Reno asked.

"Yes, Reno?"

"Can I fuck you now, Rufus?"

Rufus kissed him, unexpectedly gentle, but full of intense passion nonetheless. "That's better," he said, taking off his white jacket. Quickly he transferred his phone, wallet, gun and GP into the pockets of his pants, before spreading out the jacket on one of the wide wooden benches that ran the length of the gondola. "Lie down. I want to be able to see you while you do it to me."

"That's gonna be ruined," Reno said, eyeing the jacket doubtfully.

"I don't care. I don't want you getting splinters. Come on Reno – I want you inside me."

"Fuck, Rufus – you make me so hard!"

"Good. That's how I want you." Rufus pushed Reno down so that he was lying on the bench, the soft fabric of the jacket beneath him, and, tearing open another packet of lube, spread it liberally over Reno's cock, looking into the Turk's eyes as he did so. Reno gasped at the sensations caused by the cool gel and Rufus' warm hand; groaned shamelessly as Rufus began to rub harder. Rufus released Reno briefly and stood to take off his pants and underwear, leaving him wearing nothing but the black shirt. He faced Reno, kneeling astride him, and kissed him again, hard and urgent. Reno reached up and unfastened every one of the buttons on Rufus' shirt, pulling him down, kissing his mouth, his throat, his chest, hands exploring Rufus' torso, remembering, registering changes. Rufus had always been gorgeous, but he'd grown up a lot in the last two years, shoulders broadening, muscles gaining definition. "Fuck, you're hot!" Reno exclaimed appreciatively. Rufus smiled, took Reno's hard cock in his hand to position it, and pushed himself straight down onto it with a cry much more of pleasure than pain. Reno moaned at the sudden intensity of the feeling, remembering how good it had always been with Rufus – realizing how much he'd missed it. He closed his eyes, concentrating on other senses – his dick enveloped by smooth, tight, heat; the grip of strong fingers on his thighs as Rufus leaned back to make the position workable; the warm, familiar smells of sex and clean sweat and Rufus; the soft sound of Rufus' breathing catching a little as he got used to the feeling of Reno deep inside him at this slightly awkward angle. When Rufus began to move, thrusting himself down onto Reno's cock, Reno opened his eyes and put both hands on Rufus' hips, trying to push up to meet him, but Rufus panted, "No. Keep still. Let me…"

Reno gave a frustrated groan. "That's what you said when you were fucking me! When do I get to – "

"Please," murmured Rufus. He leaned forward carefully and kissed Reno with the same soft intensity as before. "Let me. I just want to look at you. You don't know how long I've been thinking about this."

Reno was so astounded to hear Rufus say please, and so turned on by the heat in those blue eyes, that he couldn't help but acquiesce. He did reach to take hold of Rufus' hard cock though, and Rufus didn't stop him. Rufus began to move faster, Reno's hand on his cock keeping pace with the rhythm. As the gondola made its ponderous way high above the roller coasters and the chocobo race track, all the glittering excesses the Gold Saucer had to offer displayed far below, Rufus' entire focus was on Reno and the glorious sight of the Turk spread out beneath him, pale skin flushed, red hair disordered, his usual cocky self-possession lost to heady desire. Rufus arched back gracefully as he rammed himself down onto Reno's cock and Reno's eyes went dark with shameless lust at the sight of that beautiful, toned body. Reno did his best to keep still as Rufus had asked, but he couldn't help thrusting as the intensity increased. Rufus only moaned and pushed himself down even harder.

"Fuck!" Reno gasped. "Rufus –"

"Reno…"

"Yeah!" cried Reno as Rufus threw back his head and groaned with unrestrained need. "Oh fuck, yeah!" Reno came with an incoherent cry, and the ecstatic look on his face was all it took to bring Rufus after him, his come pulsing hot over Reno's hand and onto his chest.

Rufus leaned down and rested his forehead against Reno's for a moment, before kissing him again. Reno stroked Rufus' hair out of his eyes, and said, "Missed that. Fuck, you do that good."

Rufus smiled, the usual sardonic edge back in the curve of his lips. "Yes," he replied. "I love you too." Reluctantly, he got off Reno and started doing up his shirt.

"Wham bam?" Reno chuckled, stretching lazily. "Come here."

Rufus bent down for a last kiss, Reno's hands in his hair, but when Reno went for a second, and then a third, Rufus pulled back shaking his head. "I'd love to," he said, "But we have about thirty seconds before the ride ends."

Reno leapt to his feet, the look of shock on his face making Rufus laugh aloud. "I should report you to Veld for allowing yourself to become distracted while on duty," he said, taking his jacket from the bench and using it to wipe down first Reno, then himself.

"Fine – but I'll have to cite you as distracter," Reno replied, struggling into his pants, flinging on his own jacket and groping under the bench for his shoes while Rufus was already tying up his laces. The ride came to a shuddering stop and they bluffed their way past the attendant, Reno hastily zipping up his jacket to hide the fact that his shirt was completely undone. Apart from his slightly sweat-dampened hair and the fact that he was holding his jacket rather gingerly in one hand rather than over his arm, Rufus looked immaculate. With his uniform jacket fastened, Reno actually managed to appear smarter than usual – which admittedly wasn't saying much.

Rufus threw his soiled jacket into a moogle-shaped trashcan as they passed.

Reno said, "Must be a thousand gil's worth of tailoring…"

"Yes," replied Rufus carelessly. "At least. Now, where do you want to go on honeymoon?"

"Oh, I don't know," Reno grinned. "Anywhere with a bed. Costa? Nice villa with a pool. I'd like to fuck you in a hot tub."

"Mm. I could blow you underwater. Remember…"

"Yeah." Reno thought back to the first time they'd been together, in the changing rooms of the President's penthouse swimming pool, Rufus just eighteen, and Reno twenty-one, both of them with something to prove. That experience remained in Reno's memory as the best blowjob of his life. "Yeah. Sounds good. If only. But we have to be back in –" Reno checked his watch – "Just under an hour, so Trig can take over."

"Fuck Trig."

"You'd like to?" Reno laughed. "Well – he's hot, I guess."

Rufus shook his head. "I don't want to fuck Trig." He looked away. "Call him. Tell him you'll take his shift."

"That's my time you're talking about."

Rufus tossed back his hair, eyes narrowed. "Right. And I suppose you're going to argue that the last three hours count as professional time on the clock?"

"I could. 'Escorting the Vice President' –"

Rufus aimed for sarcastic, but only sounded bitter when he said, "Oh, I see. I didn't realize you were that kind of professional."

Reno looked at him, stung. "I was kidding."

"I'm sorry being with me is such a waste of your precious hangover time."

"That's not – Look Rufus, I'll call Trig. But you dish out your orders like I don't have anything else to do."

"So this really is just a job to you?"

"You know it's not. I'm not the one who broke it off two years ago without a word."

"And that's why you don't want to stay now?"

"I do. I do. Rufus – you just had to ask."

"I did ask."

"No - you ordered."

Rufus didn't look at Reno, but he said, "All right. I'm asking now. Will you call Trig? Please."

"Yeah. Yeah, I will. That will give us until eight in the morning.

"Will Veld be okay with that?"

"Veld's in Midgar. This is Tseng's call. But yeah – I don't see why he wouldn't be. He knows you're safe with me."

"But are you safe with me?" Rufus asked, mollified.

"I'm starting to wonder," Reno replied, smiling.

x

"See," said Reno, putting his PHS away and winking at Rufus across the dinner table, "told you Tseng would be fine with it. I told him you insisted on seeing the sights. He just said to make sure you get some sleep. Apparently your father's coming here tomorrow morning. He's made an appointment to have lunch with you."

Rufus snorted. "Good of him to ask me first. It'll be one of his little heart-to-hearts. Ever since Lazard disappeared he's been checking up on me – telling me I'm 'the future of the company' as if I don't know that already! But I don't want to talk about him now. Are you ready to order?" When Reno nodded, Rufus summoned the waiter with a look. Reno wondered how he still managed to do that even when no one knew who he was, although he supposed his own uniform might be scaring the staff into attentiveness. The waiter stood beside the table, pad at the ready.

"We'll have a bottle of Jottunheim '82," Rufus said. The waiter's eyebrows rose involuntarily before he controlled them. "Uh – Sir, you do know –"

"Yes. We're celebrating. We won quite a few GPs on the chocobos."

"Very good, Sir. And can I take your food orders?"

"Reno?"

"Yeah. Steak and fries, without any of that green shit, but loads of onion rings, thanks."

"Good choice. I'll have the same, only with the 'green shit'."

"And how would you like your steaks?" the waiter asked.

"Blue," said Rufus even as Reno replied, "Just this side of cremated."

Rufus made a face as the waiter walked away. "I don't know how you can eat it like that!"

"Nothin' that bleeds counts as cooked in my book," Reno said.

"Well, burning good steak to a cinder is a waste of food in my book," Rufus replied.

"Guess our books were written in different places, yo," Reno shrugged.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Under the plate you cook everythin' that way, 'cause you don't know where it's been. Guess I'm used to it now. Hey – how romantic!"

"What?"

"We're having our first fight! If we carry on like this we'll be divorced by tomorrow morning."

"It's not a fight. I don't care how you like your steak, Reno. I'm just – glad - that you agreed to this."

"You haven't exactly made it hard work, Rufus. This is the best time I've had at work, no lie."

Rufus smiled, his eyes veiled, as he looked first down at his hands where they rested on the tabletop, then out of the curved glass windows, watching the lights of the Gold Saucer twinkling like a thousand Midwinter trees far below. The restaurant on the saucer's top deck revolved so slowly that the motion was almost imperceptible. The views were spectacular.

"It's not so bad, when you get used to it," Rufus said.

"Nope. Not nearly as bad as that chapel." Reno held up his left hand, looking at the silvery metal of the ring catching the light of the tall white candles on their table. "Even these look okay here," he said, twisting the ring around his finger. "Fact, I'd have trouble telling this from the real thing – an' I fenced plenty of metals back when – well, when I learned to cook meat all the way through, yo." He peered at the ring more closely, taking if off his finger and holding it up near the flame. Rufus watched him.

"Shit," Reno said softly, looking up at Rufus, his eyes wide. "The fuck is this? This ain't no two-gil tin toy from a machine, man! This is – what? Platinum? No – not with that sheen. Mythril?"

"As I said, I'd always liked the idea of mythril. It's the most enduring metal there is."

"But – why? When did you – Oh. You already had these in your pocket, didn't you?"

"Of course."

"I don't get it. Why?"

"I wanted something to be real. Think of it as a souvenir. I – wanted to give you something. Anyway, it's worth fifteen thousand gil. You can always sell it – if you don't like it –"

"I – it's not –" For once in his life, Reno appeared lost for words.

"It's up to you."

"But that means – you planned it? The chapel – the wedding?"

"As soon as I knew we'd be stopping here after Costa del Sol. I bought the rings in Midgar before we left. I hoped there would be a chance for an evening like this – where I would be able do things I'll never be able to do in reality. This isn't a real place, Reno." He gestured out of the window towards the golden glitter that was all that was visible of the world from this high up. "None of it's real. I just wanted one thing that was. I don't expect you to wear it."

Reno weighed the ring in his palm. "Thought it was heavy," he said.

"Because it's not fake."

"Yeah. I - guess I'll keep it on for now," Reno said. "Wouldn't want to lose it."

"Let me." Rufus took the ring from Reno's palm and replaced it on his finger. "It looks good on you," he said.

"Can't keep it on this finger past today," Reno said. "The girls will be on that like a shot – Cassie'll go crazy. They'll be takin' bets on who I knocked up."

"At least you're safe from that with me," Rufus said.

"Yeah," Reno replied dryly. "Good to know there's one kinda trouble you can't get me into!"

The sommelier arrived at the table, cradling a bottle of red wine like a baby. With considerable ceremony he uncorked the bottle and asked Rufus whether he'd like to taste the wine. Rufus shook his head. "I know the vintage," he said. "If there's a problem, I'll let you know."

"Of course, Sir." The liquid that pulsed into the glasses was such a deep red it was almost black. When the sommelier had departed, Rufus held his glass to the candlelight and admired the richness of the bloody ruby colour. "I first drank this on my sixteenth birthday," he said. "My father was away on business, but he sent orders that I was to have a bottle from the cellar."

"You know I can't drink this, Rufus," Reno said. "I'm on duty. Veld would flay me alive."

"One glass," Rufus said. "You ought to toast our marriage."

Reno was sure he should be raising more of an objection, but he couldn't really think of a convincing reason why one glass would be a problem, and all he ended up raising was the glass.

"To us," Rufus said. Reno clinked his glass against Rufus'. He was feeling pleasantly lightheaded for some reason. Rufus really was incredibly attractive, and if he was going to be married to anyone it might as well be the man who would one day rule the entire planet. "To a long and happy marriage," Reno said, raising the glass to his lips. "Fuck me – this is good wine!"

x

"Reno."

"G'way."

"Reno – you have to get up. Trig will be here to take over in half an hour. You can't be in bed with me – you have to get back into uniform. You have to look as though you've been on duty!"

"Shit!" Reno put a hand to his head. "What the hell happened? I feel – I don't know – not hung over, but – I can't believe I went to sleep! How long was I asleep?"

"It doesn't matter. But you have to get up now." Rufus put both hands on the sides of Reno's face and kissed him. Reno yielded for a moment before pushing Rufus away. "No – this is not okay. It does matter! What the hell happened? I was drinking on the job –"

"You only had half a glass. At my insistence."

"But – we – the gondola –"

"That was good. Don't tell me you regret that."

"That's not the point, Rufus! I was on duty. I can't believe I've screwed up this bad. I don't do this – I've never done this!"

"Relax, Reno. It's fine. I'm fine. No one died."

"Yeah? Well that's down to luck, and it's supposed to be down to me. I'm supposed to be a fuckin' Turk! Veld will have every right to – I could lose my job over this."

"It wasn't your fault."

"What? Look – that's all very noble an' shit, but you trying to take the rap won't make any difference. I'm your protection – that's my job."

"That hangover cure I gave you may have had side effects."

"Not likely." Reno got out of bed and started to dress quickly, his expression more serious than Rufus ever remembered seeing it.

"No," Rufus said, suddenly looking almost sheepish, "what I mean to say is that it probably did have side effects. I – may not have given you a comprehensive list of the ingredients."

Reno stared at him. "Such as?"

"Some mildish opiates. Just to relax the subject – to make sure that a hangover headache isn't replaced by a tension one."

"And that's it? That doesn't explain why I apparently lost every bit of professional judgment I ever had!"

"Well – there's also the question of the Manipulate."

"What?"

"The labs managed to make an active ingredient from Manipulate materia. It's not as strong as a spell, but it works to convince the brain that the hangover's gone. It's not supposed to keep working after the pain stops, but it could have impaired your judgment I suppose. That potion was only a prototype."

"And you didn't think you should tell me that? Shit - no wonder I felt so spaced out."

"I didn't know it would have that effect, I swear." Rufus got out of bed, went to the bathroom, and returned with one of the Ghost Hotel's lurid magenta towels wrapped around his waist. "I'll be in the shower when Trig gets here. You – make sure it looks as though you were in that chair all night. Reno – I only wanted you cured of your hangover. I didn't intend to manipulate you."

"You can't help yourself. You manipulate everyone. Lucky no harm came of it – just good sex, a good meal and a fake wedding." Reno smoothed the bedding, tidied crumpled clothes into the laundry basket, set his goggles straight on his head, and checked his weapons. Rufus watched him, admiring the smooth transition back into professional Turk mode.

"Actually – about that –" Rufus began, but he was interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Shower!" Reno mouthed. Rufus obeyed, moving silently. By the time Reno opened the door to Trig, Rufus was whistling tunefully, and the water was running on full power.

When Rufus emerged from the shower, Reno had already gone. Trig was sitting in the armchair Reno had supposedly occupied all night, reading the papers. He looked up and nodded to Rufus, serious as ever, despite his informal appearance. He was the one Turk whose hair was even more outlandish than Reno's, and Reno had been right when he'd described him as hot – but Rufus had no desire for anyone who wasn't Reno.

"Good morning, Sir."

"Good morning. I believe I have an appointment with my father?"

"Yes, Sir, scheduled for eleven."

Rufus dressed quickly. Standing before the antique-looking dressing table on which stood an elaborately ugly carved mirror, he ran his fingers through his hair to push it into place, and fastened his watch. As he did so the light caught the ring on the third finger of his left hand, and he transferred it to the right, wondering whether Reno had remembered to do the same. Doubtless he had; free from the influence of drugs, alcohol or materia, Reno was a consummate professional.

Rufus regarded his reflection, unsmiling. Everything had a price, and he knew that he would pay for yesterday eventually, but he couldn't bring himself to regret what he had done. He had honestly meant to tell Reno the truth, but Trig's arrival had prevented him. Reno had one day's leave left – let him enjoy it. He was probably going to be annoyed when he found out. No – he was going to be incandescent. Rufus couldn't help smiling at that image; Reno was gorgeous when he was angry. Anyway, it wasn't as though Rufus actually intended to tell his father about the wedding – that wasn't why he had done it: arranging for the old priest to be at the chapel with his 'wife' as a witness; making sure that the 'souvenir' certificate had been carefully positioned over the carbon paper and the official register; switching the rings. He had done it because he knew that his old man was already in negotiations with the fathers of one or two eligible heiresses, and when he'd considered the matter he'd discovered that the only person he'd ever had anything approaching romantic feelings for was Reno. When he'd thought about it further, he'd been shocked to realize that those feelings had persisted and deepened over the two years of their separation.

Knowing full well that Reno would have laughed in his face if he'd made a proposal of marriage in any serious way, Rufus had concocted his plan, arranging with the priest by phone for everything to be put in place, telling him a pack of convincing lies about who he was – saying that the wedding had to be in secret because he happened to be cursed with the name Rufus Shinra, and if the real one – the famous one - got to hear about it, he might prevent a wedding that could lead to adverse publicity. Once at the Gold Saucer, he'd waited for the right time, got himself just drunk enough to convince Reno that his actions were spur-of-the-moment whims, and lost Rod in the crowd so that he had an excuse to go to Reno's room.

The one thing he hadn't meant to happen was for the potion to have a lasting effect on Reno's critical faculties. Would the Turk ever have consented to even the seemingly fake wedding if he'd been in full possession of his normally astute judgment? Rufus wasn't sure. Of course, technically, the fact that Reno hadn't been aware that he was entering into a legally binding marriage contract probably invalidated it in any case, but as long as it existed it gave Rufus grounds to oppose any other marriage. And he hadn't been lying to Reno when he'd said he wanted something real. What he felt for Reno – that was real, although he was under no illusions that Reno felt as much for him. Rufus was already caught up in a potentially lethal game, of which the Turks knew nothing, aiding Avalanche against his father. Whether he would survive it – or whether Reno would – that was unknowable at this stage. But Rufus was prepared to risk everything to achieve his goals. Everything – including Reno. Did that mean that his feelings for the Turk weren't valid? Rufus didn't know. All he did know for certain was that when he'd been confronted with the idea of marriage, the only person he'd wanted to marry was Reno. Was that real? Was that love? Was there any point to any of it?

Well – if there was a point, it was this: that there would always have been this one day – would always be this memory of a day – when Rufus had succeeded in arranging the world as he wanted it. A memory as pure as untarnishable mythril. The day after tomorrow he would see Reno and tell him the truth, and endure his disbelief, his justifiable fury, his scorn. But for now, he was going to keep the secret to himself. He'd done what he'd set out to do, for better or worse: he'd made his own choice.

Turning back towards Trig, Rufus's attention was caught by a spider dangling from one of the ornate chandeliers, whose electric candles flickered with unconvincing, punctual flames. At first he thought the creature was plastic, but it ascended rapidly, scuttled across the ceiling and disappeared behind a molded plaster gargoyle.

Rufus watched it go. Subconsciously, he touched the ring on the third finger of his right hand, thinking about the day after tomorrow, when he was resolved to confess his duplicity to Reno. It was an even bet that his husband would try to kill him, but he was willing to take the risk.

Rufus smiled. His ordinary life rarely felt real to him these days, but he was certain of one thing: whatever Reno's reaction to the news turned out to be, there would be nothing about it that was fake.