DISCLAIMER: I dont profit from any fic I write. Its purely for enjoymeny. These characters of FF7 beling to Square.
This is the first fan-fic I've written ( that makes 2 now lol). It's not yet complete, but I'll try to work on it if people want to see an ending. I write this while I was living in Asia, so forgive any haphazard paragraph spacing or minimal english strangeness. I posted a part of somewhere ( maybe AFF) a long time ago, but I dont know what happened to it. My computer assploded and I managed to retrieve this. I'll also probably be tweaking these a bit since Im already seeing parts where I confused english pronouns lol.
It IS Smut Heavy in later chapters. Sorry. I guess I'm just one of those evil, evil people :[ . But as I said, I've only written 2 of these ever, so who knows? Maybe I'll reduce the smut in upcoming endeavers lol.
This story has a bunch of humour, but also some drama/ angst maybe? . Some non-concensual situations between the clones. So keep that in mind if it bothers you.
Chapter 1
Welcome, My Little Fruitloop
...
Ah the Healin' Lodge. What a godawful fuckin name. Reno himself could have thought of a better bloody name for the place. It's like calling a supermarket "Food Place". Or- ..Planet Yum Yum? . His brain blanked, which meant it was time to concede mental defeat. He was way beyond capable thought or semi-amusing puns, that normally amused Reno alone anyways. Occasionally he assaulted Rude with them. Perhaps, more than occasionally. But Rude was his partner in crime, thus he had to listen to Reno's witty banter. Whether he liked it or not.
Reno snickered. 'Poor guy…love that bald, brick shithouse of a guy.'
Brick shithouse referring to Rude's absolutely incomprehensible size and stature. He didn't know where the term "built like a brick shithouse" came from, but it oddly seemed to describe Rude. And it had the word "shit" in it. Reno started to chuckle more and took another swig from the bottle of Vodka he held so preciously in his right hand. The burning sensation of drinking alcohol straight had been dulled an hour ago. Not to mention that Reno was used to drinking hard liquor straight up. Back when he was a teenager he used to "mix" it with other various crap like wussy orange juice to take the edge off. But years later he had realized there was no point in cutting the alcohol. It was his own private stroke of sheer genious.
Sure, for awhile it tasted like pure fire. He was in the position to make that comparison as he may have actually tasted fire for real during the course of his career with Shinra. But enough of this idiotic and worthless thinking. There were other toxins to attack his body with.
He lit cigarette #5 of the evening and noisily crossed his feet up on the desk taking a long drag. That's when he heard the rather deadpan voice of his most recent and reluctant guest;
"I don't like those sticks. They smell bad."
Blowing out smoke donuts, Reno glanced over to where the complaint came from and once again settled his eyes on his captive du jour….one of the silver-haired punks named…'fuck..what was it again? Zazoo? No..that was from a movie..maybe..bwahaha that was a fuckin bird. Uh…Christ..does this even matter? Nahhh….'
Reno, relaxed and thoroughly tipsy, looked over at his "company" for the time being and grinned, "What's the matter princess? Afraid the smoke is bad for your skin or something? "
Christ. Of all prisoners to have to be guarding until god knows when it was this pretty-boy fruitcake of a clone. Reno sized him up through inebriated eyes. Long, girly silver hair, pale skin, creepy ass green cat-like eyes. Then that almost designer, tailored leather suit zipped up just under his delicate chin. That suit was NOT made by cheapskate fuckin Shinra, that was for sure. Or had it? Fucked if he knew. Annoying though if it had been. Here he always had some business suit that reeked of poverty. If this silver-haired crackpot and his "brothers" were old Shinra experiments gone horribly wrong yet got those freakin' cool suits when all he had was…..
"…..hisss!…." Oops. He didn't mean to make that hiss out loud.
Reno tried to suppress the odd noise of anger and pass it off as a hiccup. He shot a gaze over to the silver-haired man, who was handcuffed and tied about 50 billion times to a metal chair with medieval looking industrial locks.
"What are you lookin' at punk?" he quipped with his cigarette in the side of his mouth. He managed to take another drink too. It was multitasking.
Yazoo merely tilted his head in a calm, inquisitive manner. Not fazed, nor daunted in the slightest.
"Did you just make a hissing noise?" he asked with just a touch of amusement in his voice.
Reno darted his eyes sideways, "er…no, I did not." He then straightened up and smoothed some of his crimson hair back while laying his cigarette on the ashtray. He could feel his captive's gaze burning a hole in the side of his head.
"I believe I heard a distinct hissing noise slip out of your mouth…along with some of that ghastly smoke." Yazoo chuckled and grinned ever so slightly.
Reno glared at him.
"Yes, Mr. Zazoo. I made a fucking hissing noise. Why that's so goddammed amusing I have no idea but then again, you're so introverted you probably don't get out much. So I guess watching television static is also amusing to you." He picked up his cigarette again, took a puff and blew smoke out of his mouth in Yazoo's direction, "Breathe in the cancer pretty boy!"
With that Reno started snickering and took another swig of vodka as he snuffed out the last of the cigarette butt in the ashtray.
"My name isn't Zazoo. It's Yazoo. With a 'Y'."
"It should be Fruitloop with a capital 'F' " Reno grinned. Muwahahaha…ah yeah Reno, that was a good one. Still got it. The vodka was finally taking him from the tipsy stage to beyond. Thank the Gods. Reno couldn't imagine having to guard "Yazoo" all night sober. Reno had met vending machines with more personality than this twit. He lit up another cigarette and took a drag, holding in the smoke a bit and allowing it to filter out his nostrils. When the hell was Rude going to phone him with further instructions? He heard a defiant "hmph" noise, rolled his eyes and turned to Yazoo again, who was looking delightfully annoyed.
"That disgusting smoke is sticking to my hair. I can smell cigarettes on my hair. What is the point of that vile habit?" Yazoo wriggled in his restraints to toss his long silver hair off his shoulders and made it fall down his back.
"Awwww.." Reno said with a drunken sneer, "Is my vice interfering with your hair care routine, precious? Let me guess, shampoo for colour treated hair, then a smoothing but nourishing conditioner, towel dry until damp, and then finish it off with a nice drop of hair shine shit to make it all glossy! I was wondering what smelled like apricots when we were restraining you to the chair. It's you! But I regress. I'm GLAD you smell good. I can't stand tying up people who smell like human sewage…" Reno lingered on that last thought in his drunken haze. He wasn't lying. It was a nice change that an enemy smelled good. Enemy odour…he never really thought about that before. Someone should write a manual on that. Not a large manual, just like, an insert. He took another drink. God he was brilliant when he was drunk.
"I think you meant to say, 'But I digress' " Yazoo stated, flatly. He then stared at Reno's hair. Bright red, front part wild, back slicked into a long tapered pony tail, "And you know a surprising amount about hair maintenance."
Reno scowled. That fucker and his know it all superior attitude. He then opened one of the desk drawers scouring through it for something, cursing under his breath.
"What are you doing now?" Yazoo wondered, attempting to peer over and look.
" I'm searching for some bloody duct tape to wrap around your mouth so I don't have to listen to your annoying voice, you stuck-up prick. Gods, you're supposed to be the silent one and now you decide to exercise those dusty vocal chords"
Hmm. Reno found a stapler. Nah, he'd never get away with stapling Yazoo's mouth shut. Besides, it'd be a waste to ruin that pretty face. Reno closed the drawer and leaned back in his chair again with his feet on the desk. Blowing smoke out the side of his mouth he gave Yazoo a look over. As if he were checking him out at a bar. Yazoo was very easy on the eyes. He couldn't exactly see his body, but got a good impression from the fitted leather suit that he was lean, and in great shape. After all, his fighting skills dictated that his body had to be in peak physical condition. But the suit zipped all the way to his neck and stopped under his chin. Why all the material? The face was lovely. He had such fine features for a guy. And those eyes. Sure they could be creepy and all, but right now they looked so…exotic. And lastly Reno had of course been over Yazoo's hair in fine detail. Sure, he was making fun of it but no matter what his hair regime was, it was working for him.
Conclusion; Yazoo was hot. Reno was man enough (and drunk enough) to admit it. If he wasn't such a flakey, crazy-ass freak Reno might have propositioned him at some other place in some other dimension.
'What the fuck am I doing?' Reno's face scrunched up in a contorted look of confusion. 'Bloody Hell, I'm so fucking bored of sitting here that I'm actually checking out the silver-haired wacko! I gotta turn the brain off again. Thinking is BAD. No matter what Rude says.' He quickly grabbed the Vodka bottle and took a drink…to no avail. He had emptied the entire bottle of booze.
"FUCK!" Reno yelled to the heavens, "Goddammit! Why me? Fuck it all to hell!" He threw the empty vessel across the room causing Yazoo to jump a bit in surprise. There went his plan to be hammered. Sure he was drunk, but he was aiming for completely loaded.
A thud resounded throughout the room as Reno's head slammed face first against the desk.
And he stayed like that.
At this point, Yazoo didn't quite know what to make of this redheaded human. He wasn't afraid at all, just curious. Reno must have quite a strong constitution. Yazoo wasn't used to alcohol consumption. That bottle of liquid would have probably made Yazoo pass out had he the will to consume it's entire contents. Reno was drunk and slurring his speech, but he still had adequate motor skills.
"You're such a drama queen. Are you also an alcoholic?" Yazoo asked innocently, staring at Reno who was still slumped over with his forehead on the desk.
Arrgh. Reno turned his head to the side, "No Mr. Fancy pants, I am not a fucking alcoholic." He said in a musical, high-pitched nasal tone, like he was talking to a nagging mother. Good God, Rude! Where art thou?
And like an answer to his prayers, his mobile phone jingled its' ringing tune. Reno scrambled clumsily at his pockets to get it, excited that he may be relieved of this duty. Or at least get some fucking company.
"RUDE! You loveable, bald bastard! Where the hell are you? I'm DYING here of boredom with Mr. Wonderful. Tell me there's a light to the end of my hellish tunnel!"
Yazoo wrinkled his delicate nose, indignantly. The obnoxious redhead was dying from HIS company? Yazoo's perfectly groomed brows furrowed as well and his lips pouted. Hmph! He's the one who is intoxicated, HE's the one who is polluting the air with carcinogenic smoke. Every second word out of his un-educated mouth is unnecessarily foul, and he has the audacity to complain about his company? He was basically fused to a chair in this miserable excuse for a headquarters, all against his will! Yazoo sighed. What was he to expect anyways? It was obvious that Reno wasn't the sharpest pencil in the drawer. It was really best to ignore the redhead's spastic behaviour, as it was illogical and completely unreasonable. Even when he was sober. But it's a bit difficult to ignore him when he's shrieking into a cell phone. What was his issue this time? Yazoo paused to listen, not like there was any other choice as Reno's voice was breaking the sound barrier.
"THAT IS FUCKING BULLSHIT, MAN!" Reno screamed into the phone, his words still a bit slurred from his drinking. "What the FUCK does he think I am; a baby-sitter for the insane? A psyche-ward security guard?" He darted a panicked look at Yazoo.
"Well for crap's sake! How the fuck am I supposed to GET him there? Install wheels on his chair and pull him along on a rope at the end of my motorcycle? I DON'T WANT HIM IN MY HOUSE! He bellowed furiously to the person on the other end. He ran his free hand through his hair and paced across the floor.
"NO! I DON'T want to talk to the president!" He pressed his fingers on the bridge of his nose. "FUCKIN' HELL. FINE! Whatever! Nah, I'll be fine Rude. Sorry to yell at you for this it's just…you know it's fucking frustrating as hell. Just tell me you'll be home at some point? Yeah yeah…." Reno sat down again and sighed heavily, "What's that? You restocked the bar? THANK YOU GODS. Rude, you have no idea what that means to me. I love you buddy. I needed to hear that. Yep. I'll be ok. Do we have any duct tape at home? Fuck! No, he doesn't ramble on and on about crazy ass shit like his brat brother. I'll be fine with the wine partner! Later." Reno pressed the 'end' button on his mobile and placed it back in his pocket. He looked towards Yazoo in an obvious pensive state.
Yazoo raised an eyebrow, "What?"
"Well YOU are one lucky mental patient, crackpot!" Reno grinned, even though his teeth were clenched in an obvious state to calm his tone down. "You and I are leaving this blissful little cabin! Apparently your obsessive compulsive "brothers" may know you're here, so I have to move you're pansy arse to a top secret location."
Yazoo looked at Reno questioningly, "Where are we going?"
"You and I are going to the infamous Chez Reno…and to a lesser extent Rude." He said as he pulled himself out of the chair and collected his things. He grabbed his E.M.R weapon, a few guns for various holsters. Stole some ammunition from the employee supply cabinet and shoved his open pack of cigarettes in his suit jacket pocket.
"What is Chez Reno?" Yazoo asked, looking a bit uncomfortable.
"It's my apartment, dummy." He flicked Yazoo's forehead." And believe you me, nobody knows where I live, and if they ever figured it out and even TRIED to venture across the threshold that is my abode, the roaches would get 'em! Hehehehehe…" He continued to snicker as he grabbed some keys and started to examine how to move Yazoo.
'ROACHES?' Yazoo thought with a pang of anxiety. His eyes followed Reno around the room. "Do you mean…cockroaches?" He asked Reno in disgust.
Now THIS was comedy, Reno thought. Of all things, this gun-toting, 'I'm so superior in my leather suit', pretty boy was afraid of roaches? Sweet. He audibly chuckled in a menacing way as he went to the medicine cabinet.
"Oh yes princess. Cockroaches. Fuckin' huge ones too. The buildings been fumigated at least twice. Didn't kill them. The little buggers LAUGH at Roach Motels and other poisonous sprays. Let's just say it was easier to respect their space and accept them as neighbours. Fuck, if they didn't fly and move so fast, I bet I could get a collar and leash around one and walk it like a bloody dog." He crossed the room over to stand next to Yazoo.
Leaning in, Reno placed his chin right in the crook of Yazoo's neck and with lips to his ear, whispered, "Think of it this way. WE don't own the building. THEY do. And they allow us to live in it." He grinned and slipped his arm around Yazoo's torso to take hold of the zipper at the front of his suit.
As if the cockroach talk wasn't playing with his mind enough, now he had Reno…unzipping his suit?
"What are you doing?" Yazoo protested as he wriggled and writhed beneath his bonds shuddering as Reno pulled the zipper down to his navel.
"Wow. No shirt under this leather outfit? Doesn't it chafe? Or are you into that sort of thing? You know, leather, whips, chains. Hell, you could be enjoying your restraints for all I know. Are ya?" Reno flashed a wide smile, getting a kick out of Yazoo's shock. Yazoo whined even more when Reno took the two sides of the now open zipper and pulled each side over Yazoo's shoulders and down to his elbows.
Yazoo was left bound to the chair with most his upper torso exposed. He just looked utterly speechless at Reno. God, it was the most amusing Yazoo had been all day. Which wasn't saying much. The silver-haired man did have a nice body though, from what Reno could see of it anyways. Very well defined muscles, but still delicate. Reno kind of appreciated a slender body in a guy. After all, it was kinda like his own. And Reno knew how others regarded him. No complaints so far! He grinned at his sexual track record, then looked back to Yazoo, whose face resembled a deer in headlights.
Reno smiling ear to ear now, decided to further shock Yazoo by going back towards the silver-haired man's neck and licking it from collarbone to just behind his jaw near his ear.
Oddly, Yazoo was just staring forward, wide eyed and breathing more rapidly. Reno had expected thrashing, yelling, something in an attempt to protest. How disappointing. So Reno went back to where he had licked Yazoo's delicate neck and bit him. Not too hard, as his skin was soft and pale, but firmly enough to leave a mark. Yazoo let out….a tiny moan?
'Whaaa?" Reno thought in confusion. 'Holy Crap, was that a moan? Is he actually enjoying this? Man, this guy is …odd. Maybe he does have a fetish.'
With that thought in mind, Reno pulled back and ceased what he thought was going to make Yazoo freak out and set out to do what he had intended from the start. He had a syringe in his other hand the whole time and needed to peel Yazoo out of that get-up that covered his entire body to find a vein.
Yazoo felt a stabbing pain in his left arm and let out a yip. He looked down to see a needle in his arm. Looking back up at Reno with heavy lidded eyes his head swam as the redhead faded out to darkness.
Reno tossed the used syringe in the garbage and walked over to zip up Yazoo's coat. The silver-haired man was unconscious. Is there anything drugs can't do? He thought to himself as he started to unlock the restraints and free Yazoo from the chair. He made sure to keep his hands and feet bound though in case Sleeping Beauty woke up earlier than planned. Rude had assured him over the phone that the amount in the syringe should be more than enough to keep his silver-haired guest under complete sedation for a few good hours. More than enough time for Reno to tie him to his bike and make the trip to his apartment. Better to be safe though and keep the little wacko tied somewhat.
Reno bent over and grabbed Yazoo around the waist in an attempt to hoist his body over his shoulder and carry him down to where he was parked.
Abruptly, he found himself staring at the ceiling with Yazoo's unconscious deadweight draped across him on the floor. He had overestimated his own strength and fell backwards.
Ouch, he thought, rubbing the back of his head. Ok…perhaps Yazoo was heavier than Reno had anticipated. Fuck. How was he going to get him down the stairs? Goddammit! He was built for speed and agility! Not for carrying bodies for long stretches. Rude does that! Fuck fuck fuck.
"OooOOoOOo!" Reno said out loud as he tilted his head to the side. In the corner of the room was a wheelchair! Perfecto! He managed to wriggle his way out from underneath Yazoo and hauled his sleeping ass into the chair.
And with that stroke of brilliance, Reno smiled and rolled his captive down the wheelchair accessible ramp to his motorcycle. With a whole lot of hauling and fumbling, Reno finally managed to get Yazoo safely tied to the front part of the seat on the bike. Reno sat on the seat, trying figure out how to make this work. Adjusting the ropes around Yazoo's body, he finally had the unconscious man lying face down across his lap giving him the ability to freely control the motorcycle.
And at last he started it up and moved out of there towards home. The night wind was cool and felt so good whipping through his hair. The moon was bright overhead. The ride back should be no problem.
"Hey Yazoo," he spoke to the unconscious body of the silver-haired deadweight, "While your down there doing nothing, you could at least blow me for taking such good care of your needy carcass!"
He laughed out loud and continued to drive faster down the dusty roads into the city. It was clear and no other vehicles were in sight. He'd be home in no time. Maybe this wasn't so shitty after all. Sure he'd have to deal with Yazoo, but at least the man would be tied to one of his chairs in his living room and he could relax with a whole cabinet of liquor and blow smoke donuts in Yazoo's direction from the comfort of his own couch.
