Author's Note: Disclaimer found below.

Warnings: EVERYONE IN THIS FIC IS UNDERAGE. XD

Beware the yaoi (if guy x guy isn't your thing, TURN BACK NOW).

Beware the acne.

Explanation: This fic was written for the Yule round in the YaoiChallenge community on livejournal. It's AU for (private) High School regressed-age Turk shenanigans. Nothing really happens but amusing setting and characterization, but I figure someone might enjoy it here too. :-)



Smokin' in the Boys' Room


When Reno slipped into the boys' room on the third floor at the end of the south wing, Rude was waiting for him. He held up his slender hand to catch the skeleton key that Rude pitched at him, then used it to lock the aging wooden door. The frosted glass set into the top half rattled when he shook the knob to make sure it was secure. Not that it would hold if one of the teachers decided to investigate; it was simply another layer of defense.

"You got the stuff?" He asked unnecessarily, tossing the key back to Rude.

The darker-skinned youth tucked the key into a pants pocket and wordlessly held up a small plastic bag with what were clearly joints inside.

Reno made a snorting sound. "So if we get caught we just get thrown out, huh? No inconvenient questions. Hojo's sure got us covered."

"He just sent the Regressor; I rolled 'em," Rude responded, his voice still nearly monotone - but higher-pitched than Reno instinctively expected. Smaller body, smaller voice, he reasoned.

He wondered if he should ask Rude where he'd learned to roll a joint, but decided against asking. He probably wouldn't get more than a few very literal words in answer anyway.

It had seemed like a pretty sweet assignment, originally. Hojo had revealed that a batch of an anti-aging drug he'd been working on had been stolen. And by anti-aging, he meant that it physically regressed the apparent age of the user years at a time, on a temporary basis. Some work had uncovered that there seemed to be a plot to harm Old Shinra's boy Rufus. He was still attending the Academy - the most exclusive boarding school on the planet - so it was assumed that the Regressor would be used in the plot against him. It'd be easy to get close to the President's son if you were another student, right? So the Turks had been called in to uncover the plot and protect Rufus.

But the most efficient way to allow them to do this unobtrusively had been to give them the drug as well.

Which left Tseng, Reno, and Rude masquerading as students, at a disappointingly boring all-boys school, trying to remember how one dealt with being a teenager in the first place.

At least they hadn't had to regress to a pre-pubescent state. Small mercies.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Reno grumbled, loosening his school uniform tie and sliding into a comfortable slouch as he approached his partner. "Gimme one. I've been feeling all gawky and long-limbed all day."

"More so than usual?" Rude opened the bag, nose scrunching uncomfortably.

Reno snickered. "They took your last pair of sunglasses, didn't they? You bad boy, you."

"And my lighter," Rude admitted, handing over a joint and taking the other for himself. It had turned out that Regressor had to be inhaled to work; smoking was sufficient. His rarely-seen brown eyes flicked toward Reno almost apologetically, as though he'd failed in some important aspect of the mission. Probably thought he had, Reno decided. "Please tell me you still have yours."

"Wouldn't be without it," Reno grinned, pulling the silver cylinder from his pocket and flicking it on. He passed it to his partner and took a long drag, and coughed. "God damn these things are wicked."

As a sixteen-year-old, Rude was... impressive. His quiet demeanor belied the fact that he seemed to have gotten half his tattoos before that age - he was still adorned enough to be interesting. That, and he'd left all his piercings in, lest he have to re-do them after the mission.

As a result, he'd been instantly branded a troublemaker by the teachers at the Academy, and watched like a hawk despite never making a false move. He didn't slouch, never spoke out of turn, didn't make trouble, and never had a stitch of his uniform out of place - nor a hair on his head, Reno thought, grinning to himself - but he couldn't do a thing right, according to the teachers. He was constantly being sent to the principal, having his sunglasses confiscated, and generally being eyed with suspicion.

It was pretty funny, really. At least he provided adequate distraction to allow Reno and Tseng to move and investigate. Tseng was a model student, all slicked-back black hair and wire-rimmed glasses and exemplary behavior. Reno was... average, staying in the background, free to offer to show the other students some real fun. Mischief needed to be made, here.

...Though the kids here were so straight-laced that not a one had accepted so far. The toilets remained un-cherry-bombed, the grounds un-toilet-papered... What were kids these days coming to, Reno wondered?

Not to mention the fact that he hadn't gotten laid for two weeks, and the hormones were killing him. How had he survived feeling this horny all the time?

Rude clamped his joint between his teeth, fishing a small notebook and pen from his back pocket. "Any new leads?"

He would stick to business. Damn. "Not since that jerk in the Drama Club called his upperclassmen brothers down on us." Reno winced at the thought, remembering the painful trek to the nurse's suite after that. How was he supposed to have known that the twerp had been Sephiroth's youngest sibling, not Sephiroth himself regressed? That had been before Rude had pulled the records from the Principal's office...

"All the records I sent off to Elena have checked out." Rude seemed to be marking things off in the notepad.

"It could be one of the teachers."

"Why steal the Regressor, then?"

"Oh. Yeah." Reno gnawed on his own joint. Dammit, how had he survived being this age the first time? It was hard to think.

There were a few silent minutes of trying to finish smoking as quickly as possible before he caught sight of himself in the mirror over the sink, scraggly red hair combed roughly to one side and face sporting quite a bit of acne. "Shit," he muttered out loud. "Not even I would fuck me."

"This the part where I tell you you're eminently fuckable?" Rude asked, flicking a bit of ash from his joint. His gaze was centered on his partner, but rather lower than his face. Reno had to wonder, now, just how often he'd been checked out from behind those sunglasses.

Reno reached up with one hand and patted his partner's head. Rude was not allowed to shave his head, according to the student handbook, and so had cropped his hair into as short a buzz-cut as possible. And his hair was an orangey auburn that Reno never would've suspected. No wonder Rude shaved his head. The color was odd with his skin-tone.

Suggesting that he stick to the cute fuzzy buzz-cut after the mission had merely gotten Reno glared at.

"You lookin' to take advantage of having the room to ourselves, here, partner?" Reno asked, raising his eyebrows and giving Rude as inviting a look as he could.

Rude snorted. "Call me back in a few years," he responded, with that grim set to his jaw that said that he was trying not to smile. "...Or at least wait until we're off-duty."

Reno grinned. Having his partner just as enslaved by hormones as him was just a treat. He sidled up to Rude, leaning against him and making as much physical contact as possible. "You sure? We're kinda on break -"

Rude looked down at him with half-lidded eyes as though he really had to think about it. "Nuh."

"You're down to one syllable," Reno purred, his own voice sounding high-pitched to his ears. He slipped one hand around his partner's waist, taking another drag from the Regressor joint with the other.

"I've got Algebra in ten minutes," Rude muttered, backing against the wall. Reno moved with him, grinning with narrowed eyes.

"Skip class. It can't lower their opinion of you." He ran his hand lower.

"Ngh - Reno -"

That was just about when the door rattled and opened. Reno jumped away and threw himself into a nonchalant slouch against the wall.

"At ease," Tseng ordered without looking, closing the door behind him and locking it again with his own skeleton key. "Anything?" He fished about in a pocket for a moment, then produced a small inhaler, breathing deep from it. Smoking wasn't the only option for taking Regressor, but having three asthmatic students transfer in at once might have aroused suspicion.

As Rude began to respond, Rufus - back in his dorm room - closed the video window on his monitor. The session had been recorded; another week or so, and he'd have some wonderful material to save for when the Turks worked for him.

Now, he thought as his foot bumped the unopened case of Regressor hidden beneath his desk, if he could just keep them from finding the web cam in that bathroom before then...



Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VII, its story, and characters are the property, copyright and trademark of Square Electronic Arts L.L.C., and no ownership or claim on said property, copyright or trademark is made or implied by their use in the work(s) of fan fiction presented here. This fan fiction constitutes a personal comment on the aforesaid properties pursuant to doctrines of fair use and fair comment. This fan fiction is non-commercial, not for sale or profit, and may not be sold or reproduced for commercial purposes.