Author's Note: It's been awhile, hasn't it? Sorry about that. Anyway, I've had this idea for awhile. It didn't quite come out as I intended, but nothing ever does, so I suppose I should get used to it. XD
Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy VII. Trust me on this.
Unofficial Rules of Being a Turk
There is more than one way to complete a mission.
The target is running, moving south through Midgar's dark alleys and smoky night. He's battered and beaten; blood is falling from his nose, one eye is swollen shut, and both hands are burned from grabbing onto an EMR. Reno's close behind him, feral grin lighting up his eyes – he's a predator, a graceful cat that isn't afraid to get dirty, to kill. He isn't talking, for once; instead, he's letting the silence get to his prey, and he's driving him into the arms of his partner. Rude is waiting for them both just a few streets away, all bone-crushing grip and dark sunglasses, and Reno smirks as he aims and catches the target's arm with a bullet he doesn't hear coming.
His prey, their prey, stumbles and grabs his arm in pain, but keeps running. Reno smirks; this is good, this is fun, and he lets out a crazed laugh before speeding back up, ponytail bobbing and tattoos hidden beneath smears of dirt and blood.
They're almost there now, Reno can see the dim glow of a dying streetlight just up ahead, and he knows Rude is waiting just out of sight. He takes another shot, and the target gasps as this one hits a more vital area; his prey knows now, he's going to die, and yet he keeps running on hope – but hope isn't good enough, not in Midgar, not against ShinRa's Turks.
Reno can almost see the blood begin to stain his target's back and chest, can almost smell it, and then he sees Rude step out from the shadows and stop the target in his tracks with a solid grip on his upper arms.
"Gotcha," the redhead purrs, coming up behind the captive man, breath tickling his ear as long, pale fingers seemingly caress his chest. He can smell the blood now, can see the way their prey is growing paler as he bleeds out, and he pushes him forward against his partner's chest and presses himself to his back.
The thrill of the hunt has gotten to him, and his target can definitely feel it now, but Reno doesn't care – the prey is about to become a corpse, and for all his faults, he isn't into necrophilia. Rude knows, too, and the bald man lets go of one arm (the target is too weak to resist now, and if he were to escape he wouldn't get far) and wraps it around his partner's back, pulling him and the dying man closer as he grabs his partner's mouth in a hungry kiss.
Reno groans and pulls away before flashing Rude a wicked smile, going back to the target's ear and whispering "What a way to die" just before the man's eyes roll back and Rude lets him crumple to the ground, the streetlight flickering once before going out completely.
In a dark alley in Midgar, covered in blood and pressed against sooty brick, two hunters complete their mission next to a dead man before phoning in the verdict.
Author's Note: Yes, they just had sex in an alley while covered in some random guy's blood after killing him. Yes, I know I have problems.
Studies show reviewing makes you better in bed.