Letters of Us
This is my first Reno/Rufus story. I wrote this a while back - December, maybe. I'm just getting around to typing it. I have several stories I'm working on right now, so my From the Wrecking fans, I'll work on that next after my Kadaj/Cloud fic, I swear! Then I have another Reno/Rufus story somewhere to finish the first chapter of. And a birthday Axel/OC for my friend Ryu.
Anyway... Reno/Rufus fans, enjoy. Every chapter is an idea/drabble having to do with a word starting with a letter of the alphabet, in order. First is "A for Allowed." This chapter is rated T for swearing and sexual themes, but nothing actually done.
~0~
(Reno)
^-Allowed-^
Everything I do has to do with being allowed, whether I'm allowed to do something or not. I have to know whether I'm allowed to think or do or say certain things. There are certain things I am allowed to do, some things I'm not, and some things I'm not allowed to, but do anyway and manage to get away with.
I'm not allowed to make a display of my affection for him in public. It has something to do with his reputation - pompous little rich brat and all - my reputation - slums-of-Junon street-rat known for sleeping around - and affection being a distraction. But alone in his office, door locked, I'm allowed to kiss him right on the mouth, and trust me, I do. As soon as he puts down the pen, done with work for the day and I've clocked in, finally done with my mission, I'm in his lap, kissing those thin lips till they're bruised and touching all that's mine.
I, personally, like it. Rufus is always so tense, maybe even scared because, what if someone walks in? What is someone comes in to ask Rufus a question about company policies or something equally stupid and annoying, and they see me grinding on him, him tugging my bright red hair, kissing me into a drug-like high? I like the danger of that situation, the adrenaline. So what if someones sees? Whether their President prefers men or women, and in this case it's men, shouldn't change their opinion of him. Rufus being a homosexual doesn't make him weaker, or any less capable of striking fear into the minds and hearts of his people, what with his cold nature and colder, pale stone-colored eyes.
Ahem.
I'm not really allowed to even imply that I'm with him in any way that isn't strictly business in public, but when I happen to brush by him or reach behind him to grab my order forms and I come tantalizingly close to him, his body doesn't argue with it, even if his eyes do. Or when I chew my pen top sensually out of boredom at our long, pointless meetings, mmm, he really doesn't argue with that, aha. I recieve a lecture later on the danger of the matter, the risk, what we'd lose, and I sit through it (I know, Rufus, I know) before bringing up my point. (So what if they know?)
Safe in the security of his own home, he lets me do as I please to him. I can kiss, suck, touch, bite - so long as it doesn't leave a mark for the press and their newspapers and cameras to see. I can pin him down and make love to him. But the funny thing is, by the time he allows me to do such things, I can only what he asks of me. Without realizing it, or pardon, acknowledging it, I've let Rufus control me, made me his puppet, to the point that I need orders. I need him to command me.
Reno, kiss me.
Reno, bruise me.
Reno, fuck me.
And very rarely, I'll hear a: Reno, hold me.
I'm allowed to see Rufus when he's weak, when he's hurt, when he's needy. To date, Rufus has never cried, not even I've had the honor of seeing the man of stone shed a single tear. (Are you even human?) Rufus has trembled senselessly though, glassy eyes out of focus. Rufus has screamed and writhed in his uneasy sleep, haunted by nightmares he won't speak of. This happened alot during the days of the Geostigma, and the weeks following it, and not even Tseng was allowed to see him then. So who was there to calm his shivers and hold him as he shrieked? I am. I'm the only one who's allowed to.
One day, I won't be though. It hurts to see someone you deeply care for be so broken, y'know? (Of course, don't all Turks feel this way? We're all undeniably loyal to our boss - over time we've actually grown to truly care for him.) One day, I won't be a Turk; I'll be older, not as strong, or agile, or deadly. Will I still be allowed to be with him then? Or will he find some new pretty boytoy to waste his time on, someone who can't give him what I can? Will he be able to trade his familar life of secrecy and lies for true adoration and affection? I want to show the world, not hide in the dark. I want to place a hand on his waist, and if any one else tries to touch him, I want to have permission to break their little fingers off out of jealousy, not instinct. Ha, or even better - shove all of Rufus's stupid, time-consuming endless stacks of paper to the floor, then wipe his mind of the mess I've created by bending him over the desk to be properly fucked.
Of course, I'm not allowed to think that way. (About leaving him, not bending him over the desk, aha.) I could never leave Rufus. Not only am I not allowed to, I just... can't. I belong to him, physically, mentally and emotionally. I could plan on saying no, telling I'm fed up with being a closet affair, of being a guilty pleasure, deny him what he wants and/or needs, to go against him, but when the moment arrives and I look that young blonde man in those chilly ice-like eyes and to try to tell him, no, stop, I can't - and the words just die on me. I can bat his slender, pale hands off my sharp hips for a few mometns to deny him, but eventually I let him touch me. (But I don't bottom, yo.)
Everything is about whether I'm allowed to with Rufus when it comes down to it.
Alright, once I get some other fics done, I'll update the second chapter. It's called "Bleed" and I've got it about a quarter done. I'll let you wonder what the plot is. I thank all people who will review~!
~Naux
