WHAT YOU SHOULD KNOW:

This is not actually a fanfiction but a roleplay of the admin of Tseng's facebook page and me, what's the reason why the following content is seperated in paragraphes where the point of view changes.

It's mainly uploaded for the fans that are interested in our character's relationship.

Just in case, here the links to our pages:

Tseng'spages/Tseng/220695998054630?fref=ts

Reno à pages/Im-Reno-Got-it/378382608959593?ref=hl

YAOI = contains homoerotic material. Don't like à don't read! You've been warned!

#### We don't own the characters. They belong to Square Enix. ####

FLASHBACK - The first encounter (Tseng X Reno)

The sixteen years old Reno lied in the hard uncomfortable bed of this goddamn jail, hands crossed behind his head, a cigarette hanging loosely in the edge of his mouth while he frowned up at the dirty ceiling.
He didn't have his goggles sticking up to his forehead at this age, neither a ponytail. His messy flaming red hair fell loosely in his face as he closed his aquamarine coloured eyes.
The boring grey overall he was forced to wear was dirty from blood of himself and others, not much, but a small spot here and there. They gave him a new one every few days but it didn't took long for him to mess it up again. The worst thing of this frickin' overall was that it scratched like hell and he bet that was on purpose because the security guys here were all fucking sadists.

A deep and angry sigh left his parted lips together with a cloud of nicotine as pain shot up his spine and made him twitch. Fuck! This son of a bitch has really not been very kind. But honestly... fuck it! He had nothing to lose anymore. All he needed were his shit and the thin necklace from his mum he wore hidden under the dirty grey cloth of the overall. And he'd do anything to either keep or get it.

He raised a hand to his mouth to pick up the cigarette and let the ash drop to the floor before he put it back to take another drag.
The air always looked kinda foggy over here but none of the securities gave a shit. He could do whatever he wanted but so could the other prisoners. If one of them would suddenly decide to kill him they would not even blink. One less to feed would just mean one less to take care of. No point in makin' a drama out of it.

Even if he'd maybe never leave this place, Reno didn't regret what he'd done to come in here. He'd do it again even if he was already cursed to have nightmares that made him wake up screaming almost every night. It has been worth it.

He heard steps coming closer and then the metallic sound of unlocking his cell. "Someone wants to see you lil shit."
Reno closed his eyes and an ironic smirk tugged the edges of his lips. "Always nice to hear yar voice, sunshine." He almost sang the words before he stretched and got up, wondering who this visitor could be. Probably this goddamn priest again who wanted him to pray to god and apologise for his sins and all this shit.
With a yawn he buried his hands deep in the pockets of his overall and passed the big guy to go to the visitors room, guided by a rough grip of his big hand on his shoulder.

The junior Turk sat amongst piles of papers, rifling through the folders methodically, sorting the information and storing it in his mind for later use. This person, he checked the name, Reno, why would he be sent to deal with a petty criminal turned murderer? As if there weren't enough ruffians and vagabonds scurrying through the slums, dirtying the underplate of Midgar with their uncouth behaviour. Selling drugs, peddling wares, prostituting their own sisters and mothers for a scrap of fine dining. A long sigh left the Wutain as he picked up the mugshot, a scrawny, weather worn, scarred face scowled back him.
Running a hand across his face, the raven haired youth glanced at his watch, then back at the doorway expectantly. As if on cue the sound of a pair of shuffling feet hit his ears. Tseng gathered the loose sheets and placed them within their assigned plastic wallets, pushing them aside when the door began to creak open. Steepling his fingers atop the desk, expression schooled to indifference, the junior Turk waited for his first glance of the prisoner.
Wild red hair was what his gaze flickered to first and then the eyes. They were an aquatic shade, a hint of both the sky and the sea, a shade balanced perfectly between blue and verdant green. There was something else that bothered the dark haired Turk. He glanced down at the mug-shot one more time, the grey-scale image was not helping the least in identifying the reason for the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach.
As the prisoner was shackled to his seat and the warden left the room, a heavy silence fell across the two men. Dark brows knitted together in consternation at the way the youth opposite him slouched, his countenance brimming with unparalleled boredom. Well Tseng would put an end to that arrogance soon enough. Reaching into the evidence bag the Wutain examined the contents which he hadn't yet had the opportunity to look through and pulled out a handgun, a glimmer of surprise passing through his face. It was a very special handgun as it was one issued only to Turks. He dangled it for a moment in his fingers before settling it on the desk, now he understood why Veld had assigned him to this case.
"Where did you get this?"

Not the priest. That was for sure. Reno recognised the suit of the Turks as soon as his gaze fell on the raven haired man that was waiting for him.
He didn't expect Shinra's lapdogs to be interested in what a dirty scum like him was doing in his free time, so he was slightly surprised but not for long since whatever it was would probably not change a single shit. So he let out an annoyed sigh as he let himself slump on the chair towards the Turk, not willing to talk to him at all.
But the guy was obviously here for exactly that reason. The redhead didn't even look at him but acted as if he'd enjoy the almost sterile sight of the visitors room.
As the lapdog eventually moved and talked Reno's eyes wondered to the gun on the table and stayed there for a while before he finally shrugged. He would definitely not talk to this guy in front of him, not even a single fuck.
Yeah, maybe he had this gun stolen from a Turk. Who the fuck cared anyway? They had enough of that shit, hadn't they? A single gun more or less wouldn't make a big difference, would it? What else should he have done? He had waited for an opportunity to get a weapon for almost two years. He fucking HAD to take the chance as he got it. Didn't matter who it was he'd stole it from.

The defiant shrug sent a snap of anger flaring through the raven haired Turk. Starting at his fingertips, it coarsed through his body, a burning liquid of calculated fury. His expression remained locked in status quo, though if one were to observe properly, there would be almost a ripple disturbing the calm surface of those obsidian dark hues.
"You will answer me when I ask you a question." His voice bade forth, laced with an unspoken threat. Unspoken because the reputation of the Turks preceded them by miles. Every rat that resided within the lower plates had surely lost a loved one or two at their more than capable hands. Why this youth shackled before him dared to defy his questioning regardless was truly a baffling matter.
But like every lock can be picked with the right tools, Tseng new it was only a matter of time until this piece shattered under his skilled hands. One way or another, utilising one method or another, he would pick this lock or break it apart in the process. Interrogation was one of the raven-haired Turk's strongest points. The contrast of his apparent self-control and the blood thirst with which he carried out his job was truly terrifying to some.
The Turk rose to step beside the inmate, leaning forward to grip a handful of crimson locks into an iron fist. Tipping the slum dog's head back to fix him with a cold glare, the Wutain repeated himself.
"Where did you get the gun?"

That the suited lapdog rose caused a light nervous feeling within his guts but it lasted not longer than a second before it faded away again. He shall just come. What could he do to harm him anyway? Nothing. Honestly.
An angry hiss escaped his throat as his head got roughly ripped back by the hair. He replied the cold glare of that black haired bastard with eyes full of hate.
Reno didn't respond to the question. Instead he spat right into the Turk's face. The spit ran slowly down his nose and Reno swore internally that he missed his very target: that freaking dot on his damn narcissistic forehead. He didn't hold back the light self-satisfied smirk that curled the edges of his lips though since hitting the nose was also not bad. It didn't matter what would happen now. The view was definitely worth it.

"Every time you make me repeat myself a new part of you will be spilling blood." The grip on the red-head's hair tightened and the Turk straightened; the smirk on the prisoner's lips matched by a sadistic curl of his own. Without further warning, he yanked the crimson locks and brought up a knee. The consequential meeting of face to limb resulting in a resounding, satisfying crack.
Letting the hair go, the Wutain perched himself on the edge of the desk, pulling out a handkerchief and wiping away the saliva in one fluid stroke. With an expression of mild distaste, he watched the scarlet liquid travel across his victim's alabaster toned skin. A journey repeated by a multitude of drops, each one journeying a slightly different route but ending up in the same resting place, a puddle on the cold concrete floor.
"Where did you get the gun?" The same question, for the third time and yet he would continue to ask until he got an answer. Such was the way of a Turk; when they were given a mission they fulfilled their objective or died trying. Well Tseng was certain he wouldn't be the one that would perish under the current situation. Oh no, not him though this Reno person might not survive. Another dead, one less piece of garbage dirtying in the slums, that was his philosophy.

It happened before Reno could react in any way. He felt his nose cracking, followed by utter pain shortly after. His eyes almost popped out of his head as he stared into the increasing crimson puddle to his feet, bent forward over his own knees. He needed a bit to realise what just happened but then he pulled the sleeve of his dirty overall and pressed it under pain on his nose to stop the bleeding, the chain that connected the handcuffs rattling with every move.
While the blood soaked into the fabric and dyed it red he glared at the asshole in front of him. "Are ya fuckin' proud now, bastard?!" He sweared, his voice muffled by the crimson wet cloth as he set up again to glare at the guy.
Unbelievable. This frickin' sucker pierced him still with that fucking calm look. His pain and all the blood didn't seem to bother him even a bit.
And then this stupid question again. What did he know? As if he'd asked the guy for his name before he took the weapon.
Suddenly Reno felt a little dizzy but he just blinked it away in rage. He turned his head to see if the guard wouldn't come to bring this goddamn Turk out but to his shock there was no guard anymore. They were alone.
He clawed the fingers of his free hand into the dirty cloth on his tights and gulped, the taste of blood causing the urge to gag but he didn't. He wouldn't crawl in front of this fucker like a kicked dog.
Anger grew in the depths of his guts and it's heat burned it's way through his veins like lava right into his eyes which almost seemed to emit sparks at the Turk.
"Dontcha dare com'any closer, sucker." He growled, an unchancy tone in his voice.

"So you can speak," he intoned, as if deaf to the insults parting from the prisoner. Tseng had to admit he was hardly impressed by the dull choice of words. The sheer banality of under-plate based slurs were hardly going to affect a person so accustomed to being on the receiving end of it. "I was beginning to suspect otherwise."
So the slum dog had some bark, very good, it would make their altercation all the more interesting at least. An expensive leather boot, crafted from the finest animal hide pushed between slender legs and found its place, pressing against the inmate's chair.
"You still haven't answered my question." With that, the boot that was balancing on the edge of the seat moved underneath, flipping the chair and it's red-headed captive over and onto the hard floor. Tseng arched backwards to rifle through the drawer, pulling out a standard issue riot baton. If he had to crack heads, he certainly wasn't going to dirty his own hands.
"Where did you get the gun?" He asked again, walking around to kneel beside the prisoner, resting the baton against defined cheekbones. "Answer me."

Reno just kept glaring at him while he had to struggle to breath properly. He followed the boot with his eyes as the chair where he sat on suddenly got jerked over by a kick. Groaning in shock he fell back and knocked his head on the damn hard stone floor. "Argh!" Raising his handcuffed hands to the back of his head he squinted up to the Turk out of one eye, rolled off the chair and managed somehow to get on his feet, simply ignoring the baton.
He didn't cover his nose anymore so one could see that his nose looked a bit weird now, slightly crooked. From the nose downwards his face was covered in blood, as well as a big part of his neck. And the blood stained sleeve was together with the other one in front of his body, as far apart as the chained cuffs let them.
He spitted out more blood, keeping his eyes glued to that completely calm bastard in front of him. "From any guy." His voice sounded nasal as he spoke, his eyes flickering to the baton. "... why do ya even wanna know, huh?"

Following the course of the red-head Tseng also stood, covering the distance between them in a single stride. Fingers reached out to pincer grip the other's chin and tip his head from side to side analysing the damage he'd done. A smirk pulled the edge of his lips, a sense of accomplishment flickering over otherwise stoic features.
"What a shame, how will a pretty piece of rubbish like you earn his daily bread now?" Upon noticing Reno's gaze sweep across the weapon, the baton in his hand swung as the Turk took hold of the handle and jammed the tip into the slum dog's stomach.
"I ask the questions remember?" The raven-haired Turk straightened the heaving red-head by yanking him up by the hair yet again. A flash of familiarity grew in the pit of his stomach, a lead weight threatening to twist his insides but Tseng dismissed the feeling as the last few reminders of a morality long buried. "Now, the gun. Where did you get it?"

The youth replied his look hatefully, though right in the next moment the baton hit him and all the oxygen got pressed out of his lungs. He curled himself forward, gasping for air but somehow he managed not to fall over.
"I..." he coughed and another spill of blood dripped onto the floor. He wiped his already crimson dyed sleeve over his lower face again. "I dunno who the hell this fuckin' guy was!" He yelled and then he yanked himself forward to punch his head into the Turk's stomach, ripped his chained hands up and hit his jaw with his clenched fists.
Maybe he would die here anyway but he would definitely not surrender without a fight.

The retaliation was unexpected, too quick for the Turk to do anything but take the damage. He keeled over at the impact to his stomach, only to stumble backwards at the blow to his face. That had done it. Any control he had over the situation slipped through slender fingers. Chest heaving, blood boiling, Tseng simply swept the red-head off his feet before pinning him to the ground. Using his full weight, the Wutain straddled the youth whilst holding his hands above his head.
It took all the self-control he possessed not to slam a fist into the prisoner's face repeatedly. He had answers to obtain after all. Veld would be disappointed if he didn't deliver.
"Seems I hit a moot point there." The baton trailed languidly from the inmate's forehead until it came to rest on his lips. "Are you really worth that much?" Tipping his head to one side, the raven haired Turk pressed the black rod into Reno's mouth. "Show me." A decidedly feral sneer edged onto his features. "Show me what dirt is worth and I might just be tempted to keep you alive."

All of a sudden Reno found himself pressed on the cold hard floor. There was a weak but cocky smirk that curled the edges of his lips before it died and changed into a blank stare as the realisation sank into him.
This sick pervert wanted him to suck a frickin' baton?! Well still better than everything else he could shove into his mouth. If he'd get the idea to try it with his rotten dick he'd definitely bite it off. Wouldn't matter if this would be his death.
Glaring up at him with of hate glowing eyes he decided to follow the order before he'd suffocate him with this fucking baton. Maybe he was ready to die, but not if there could be another way out of his shit. And he'd worse rods than this...
So he forced himself to close his eyes and slowly suck on the hard plastic as good as his restricted movement abilities allowed him to. He even used his tongue, circled it around the end of the rod even though he wasn't sure if the bastard would notice it at all.

The Turk watched with subdued interest as the rod was encased within the inmate's mouth, undoubtedly that was an expert tongue he caught glimpses of, one that teased and curled from many months of experience. Tseng had to fight the urge to loosen his tie as he sunk the weapon further into the accepting mouth, pulling it out before he could make the other gag, then lowering it back. He was effectively using the instrument to thrust.
Yanking the baton away from the red-head's mouth, the Turk decided to switch tactics, moving aside to flip the scrawny youth onto his stomach. Physical torture didn't seem to be working. There had to be another way to obtain answers. Perhaps another form of torture would prove more effective.
The interrogation took a sinister turn as the raven haired Turk used the moist tip of the rod to trail a path along the slum dog's spine until it came to rest on the elasticated seam of prison issue pants. Still using the baton, Tseng lowered the cloth, running the weapon along the crease of the red-head's firm rump.

He just kept caressing the metallic object in his mouth, trying to focus on nothing else, trying to forget what this thing was and why he'd been sucking it. But then it suddenly vanished. Wondering why Reno opened his eyes and blinked confused as he got flipped around.
"Ey!" Complaining he wanted to get up again though he hesitated. He felt the way the baton took along his back and swallowed heavily.
Maybe... maybe he could satisfy the damn Turk in another way than answering his questions? Maybe he finally understood that he just didn't know whom's fucking gun he'd stolen? And now just wanted a reason for not coming here worthlessly...?
Reno swallowed again. He was a fucking toy for this pervert. Literally. "... What... are ya doin'?" He whispered questioningly, starring at the dirty floor and not sure if he should fight or better give in to keep his ass more or less save.

The tie had become more akin to a noose, urging the Turk to yank it loose and over his head so he did. With a low, guttural growl Tseng dropped it aside, dark eyes roving over the prone form of the prisoner; arms shackled, face bloody, pants pulled down to expose a firm, carved ass. Vulnerable. Exposed. The position of power gave the Wutain a heady rush, and he licked his suddenly dry lips.
With calculated precision the black eyed Turk hooked an arm around the prisoner's waist, lifting him until he was on his knees, those slim legs curling instinctively under his body.
"I ask the questions remember?" He purred, twisting the rod against Reno's puckered entrance and suddenly breached the tight ring of muscle, forcing the thick metal object inside the red-head until he was satisfied with its depth of penetration.
"The gun." He repeated, slowly dragging the baton back out. "Where did you get it?"

"...?! What the-?! HEY!" He felt so much like said toy right now. Like a fucking doll this guy could just lift up and put down where ever he liked to. Reno squirmed and struggled to get free furiously. "LEMMI GO, YOU GODDAMN SON OF A -" His eyes widened, became as big as bottom plates and his mouth was wide opened in a silent scream. His entire body was completely tensed in utter pain as a choked gasp was the only sound that escaped his throat.

That fucking bastard had shoved the goddamn son of a bitch baton up his ass!
That was... not good... Reno clenched his jaws so heavily that he wouldn't have been surprised if they'd have just snapped. "I-I'm gonna k-kill you...!" He hissed quietly through compressed teeth,
These fucking Turks thought they could do everything. They meant they would be allowed to just take what they want and erase what they don't, just as god-awful Shinra himself. Even more anger and adrenaline flew through his veins now, forced forward by his pounding heart to spread in every of his limbs.
"SHUT YOUR FUCKIN' MOUTH!" He yelled aggressively and twisted his torso, without taking care of his harmed face that got pressed into the dirt by his own weight, to punch his elbow in the Turks face. Simultaneously he twisted the rest of his body, struggled, kicked against whatever he could reach of that suited bastard.

A gasp of pain erupted from his lips as a firm blow smacked the Turk straight in the face. He lifted a hand as a stream of warm liquid was felt trickling from his prominent nose. The audacity. Veld would be so disappointed by the turn of events, were his only thoughts before that too was discarded. This had stopped being a formal interrogation the moment Tseng had lost his temper and now it was simply a power play. Cracking his knuckles the ravenette stood, dragging the inmate up and throwing him face-first onto the desk. Chains clattered with every move, restricting the distance the prisoner could be taken from the chair. But the desk was perfect, only a foot away and Tseng took another grip of blood red locks and slammed Reno's face into the tattered table top.
"Did I offend you? I apologise." He purred smoothly, leaning over the smaller frame to brush a whisper against the shell of the inmate's ear. All the while his fingers ran along his back, a deceptively delicate touch until it rested against Reno's reddened entrance. "Allow me to make it up to you." From cold hearted bastard to considerate stranger, Tseng could switch between both at the blink of an eye.
Those long fingers caressed the pink flesh until a digit slipped inside followed by a second. This was only another ploy to break the spirit of the stubborn red-head spread out in front of him like a delicious feast. Fine brows furrowed at his line of thought. Since when did he find the piece of filth attractive in the least? Determinedly the Turk twisted his fingers, searching for the bundle of nerves that would have the slum dog squirming in his hands, begging for more. Surely he'd be able to question him further at that point.

He hit something. Though his inner glory didn't last long. Right in the next moment he got forced to bend over the old table, face pushed against the tattering dirty white paint. A painful grunt escaped him and the ache his nose was causing almost drew him insane. Somehow he managed it to turn his head to one side so that his harmed nose didn't get pressed onto the table top anymore.
A shudder ran down his spine as he felt the Turk's breath on his ear, Offend? Make it up? Reno wanted to reply something, but somehow he couldn't form a single word with his lips except "fuck yourself.".
His body tensed at the suddenly following almost caressing touch. What the hell was wrong with this guy?! There was not much time to think about it since he felt his hand on his butt already. "No, don't...!" He held his breath as fingers got showed inside of him slowly. He growled, tried to push himself up from the table but that hand on his head hold him down mercilessly. Then it happened. The long slender fingers of that damn Turk hit something. He couldn't bite back the groan that escaped his parted lips but he'd like to knock himself out afterwards for this sound. That was awkward! He got raped here! No point in - oh, my god! Another groan followed the first one and the eyes of the redhead curled upwards before he finally shut them, gritting his teeth in anger and germinal desire.

Now that he'd found the correct angle, it was with unparalleled accuracy that the Turk drove his fingers to brush past the inmate's source of pleasure. The vocalised utterances filled with lust, fuelled his primal urges as a third finger joined the assault. Each and every one sliding inside with a fixed goal, only one agenda. To tease and torment ruthlessly.
"I would pay for this..." he purred, dark eyes clouding with an ulterior motive as the teen writhed helplessly against his fingers, the temptation of the heat encasing them causing a tightening within his own loins. Upon noticing this the Wutain paused, shifting the angle of his fingers so they deliberately missed the red-head's sensitive spot.
"So..." he began again, in an almost bored tone of voice, as if he wasn't still sinking slender fingers into the prisoner's warmth. "Where did you get the gun?"

The redhead whimpered, biting his lip in suppressed pleasure. "I do still choose whom I -nngh!" Widening his eyes he tensed his entire body as he hit the spot again. "Holy fuck...!"
The Turk changed the angle and gave him a little break. Gasping for air he needed a bit to understand that he was asking him the same old question again. But when he did he wasn't sure if he'd heard correctly.
"W-what?!" His eyes flickered to the Turk as far as possible since his head was still impeded from the hand on it. "I told you I dunno who it was, dammit!" He hissed, glaring at the black haired, though his look was kinda dazed and his cheeks had a light pink hue.

"Do you think you have a choice right now?" Tseng questioned, an unmistakable trace of amusement lacing his smooth voice. As if to prove a point the Turk shifted his fingers ever so slightly but enough to warrant a very physical reaction from the one undulating shamelessly under his assault.
"You heard me the first few times. Answer me or there will be consequences." The hand that had thus far been pinning Reno's face onto the desk loosened and meandered leisurely down his back. Slipping it between the stiff wooden table and the body of the prisoner, Tseng brushed his hand over the heated flesh between the red-head's legs.
A breathy chuckle escaped him as he found the prisoner's arousal already half formed, almost begging to be touched. It was with much reluctance that he stopped himself, only allowing a feather light touch. "You will need to remember. Perhaps I can aid in jogging your memory?" The plundering resumed, a steady action of fingers burying themselves almost knuckle deep.

A deep moan escaped the inmate who bit his lip in embarrassment right in the very next second.
"... consequences...?" Huffing kinda amused Reno turned his head to shoot him a look out of the corner of his eyes. "Told you I dunno, so go on and fulfill your friggin' duty. But make it quick, yo, got some more plans for today."
Heat of embarrassment crept up his cheeks at the Turk's chuckle, turned them dark and it made him furious. Why the hell was this turning him on?!
Okay, he liked being passive, even to be treatened a little harsh at times. And he had to admit that this guy was everything else than ugly. In fact he would almost call him handsome. Reno was captured between hate and lust, curiousity and anger.
He squirmed, trying to stifle his groaning by pressing his mouth against his tied up arm, as the black haired guy kept thrusting his fingers into him.
"M-maybe he was wearing a suit..." He muttered under his breath, not even aware of that he was talking until he finished the sentence.

"Very good." A murmur of approval left the Wutain's throat and he finally wrapped his hand around the inmate's rapidly growing length. With carefully timed strokes he coaxed it into blooming, making it flourish within a warm calloused hand. Tseng watched and absorbed every reaction, adjusting both hands until Reno was a mere heap of nerves, moving subconsciously as lust quickly surpassed any rational emotion that had so far been holding him back. Tseng had begun to react to the heated moans rather physically himself, the thin fabric of his trousers barely holding his own arousal at bay. There could be mutual benefit in this endeavour perhaps but the red-head would have to ask. For past experiences left the Turk incapable of forcing himself onto another in such a way.
"What else?" He purred and sped up his motions as encouragement, only pausing when he felt the inmate's length swell in a telltale fashion, a precursor to imminent release. Immediately his hand tightened around the base, though his other continued to tease relentlessly. "What else?" He repeated, pressing into the firm globes of the teen's rump, certain that the other would feel it and expecting a reaction of either abject horror or the complete opposite.

Reno felt like having lost and won the game at once though it wasn't finished yet. "I-I dunno...!" He moaned his groin twitching into the other's hand.
When he felt the hardness in his torturer's crotch his vision blurred for a moment. In his head was a fight between lust and disgust but since he knew the second emotion wouldn't help him out of this situation at all, he let the lust win.
He wanted to take a hand back, to simply grab the Turk's package through the black pants but the cuffs on his hands didn't allow him to. At least not in this position though he didn't want to risk another punch with straightening himself now. Instead he just pressed himself against the hard on, gasping because of everything he was doing to him. It felt so damn good that he even forgot the pain of his harmed nose. The bleeding had stopped too. All the blood was needed elsewhere now.
Sure this wasn't his first time. Not at all. But nobody gave a shit about him so far. He was just a toy, a thing to use. And he let them, 'cause so he could get what he wanted. Here in jail that meant cigarettes, alcohol and sometimes also harder stuff.
But this guy...! Damn, his hands were gorgeous! How must have been the rest then?

"I'm afraid that's not a satisfactory answer..." he stated calmly, immediately withdrawing slender fingers and removing his hand. Even going as far as to take half a step back; leaving the red-head completely empty, untouched and devoid of the Turk's bodily warmth, struggling in a delectable frenzy of want and desire. Truth be told Tseng needed a moment to think, and having his arousal pressed up against the inmate's bare flesh made him realise his blood was pumping in the wrong direction.
Dark eyes narrowed in thought as he weighed up his options. The mission objective of retrieving information came first and foremost; the secondary goal of fulfilling his carnal hunger could perhaps be accomplished at the same time. Reno had consented; it was apparent in the fervent moans, the glazed eyes, and the coloured hue in his cheekbones. But the evidence he had gathered thus far was hardly acceptable. A man in a suit. With a sigh the Turk flipped the youth onto his back.
"Tall short? Slim large? Dark fair?" Tseng stepped between the lean, parted thighs of the prisoner, careful that his body made no contact as he leaned forward, bracing himself on coarse fingertips. "This can be of mutual benefit to us if you cooperate. I can make it beautiful…" his voice lowered as he ran a finger over Reno's sensitive stiff length. "Or I can make it hurt…" The sound of a sharp smack echoed through the small room as the Wutain backhanded the inmate. "It's your choice."

The redhead gazed up at him out of half lidded eyes, struggling with keeping his breath calm but except his slight dazed eyes and flush he seemed rather cool.
"I didn't see his face..." He eventually pressed through clenched teeth. "I didn't lift my head higher than to his damn shoulders and anyway... just saw him from behind." He shrugged, trying to get any information out of his clouded memory. It was not that he liked to treat the Turk with giving him everything he knew bit by bit. Sure, he didn't want to help him either but it was more the fact that he refused to think about that day at all. His brain just tilted when he tried. "... he was taller than me." Another piece of memory, born of the increasing pain in his head. But the still present hunger numbed it.
The touch of his sensitive hard on caused a sharp inhaling. Fuck! This guy really must have had magic hands.
Right in the next moment his face flew aside, a burning bruise growing on it's right cheek, forcing him to dig deeper in his buried memories, but somehow also boosting his lust.
His erection ached under the urge to be touched, so the inmate moved his cuffed hands slowly to his crotch. Chains slid rattling over dirty fabric and bare, bruised skin before he finally reached his throbbing boner. "I... can't remember..."

"Not so fast." He paused the slow, downwards journey of steel encased wrists with a sharp tug, lifting the bound limbs up and over the inmate's head. It took mere seconds for the Wutain to pull a small knife from his wrist strap and stab it through the chain links and drive it right into the wooden table, binding the slum dweller to his fate. Their current position left the Turk only inches away from Reno's face whilst their bodies curved together on the desk. Obsidian orbs assessed the truthfulness behind bright oceanic eyes, whilst their breaths mingled into an intoxicating combination. Reflexively the Turk rocked his hips, regretting it the very next moment as a spark of pleasure created by the friction left him gasping for breath.
"You must have seen his hair..." he ground out between gritted teeth, their current predicament failing to conceal the straining bulge in his suit trousers. Still, there was something in the back of Tseng's mind a familiarity that pricked his senses the moment he caught sight of the red head. He pushed himself back onto clenched fists, though slim hips remained pressed firmly against the inmate's. Perhaps the time was ripe to wrap up the interrogation but not before something useful was gleaned from it.
An ominous sound of a zipper opening filled the damp air and the Turk pulled out his stiff length, brushing it tantalizingly close to Reno's welcoming entrance. It took all of his self-control to not simply breach the tight ring of muscle and bury himself inside. Instead he simply waited, expression fixed to a neutral state.

Reno gulped when his hands got pinned above his head. The sight of that knife made him hold his breath first but the Turk just used it to attach the chain between his handcuffs to the wooden plate of the table.
His breath still quickened. This guy knew how to play with the fire, that was for sure.
The redhead bit his bottom lip at the friction of their lower bodies. Even more when he heard the zipper and felt something pushing lightly against his entrance. He gulped again, his brain not much more than a heap of mash as he tried to remember.
Compressing his eyes he tried to forget the circumstances for a moment and to focus on his blurred memories.
There was this man. He was tall and skinny but obviously in a good shape since his torso build a perfect "V". Not too much but just the way it could have been kinda nice to look at. ... if there wouldn't have been the job on Reno's mind that had to be done and that had taken 99% of his brain's capacity back then.
Reno clenched his eyes even more, grinding his teeth at the increasing pain in his head. Hair... hair... "... long black hair, yo..." he muttered under his breath. "... silky."
Something in his mind snapped, the pain faded away and his eyes flutter open widely at the man above him. "... … fuck..." The word was not much more than an exhaled breath but it said enough of what was going on in his head. He met that frickin' Turk before.

Their expressions of realisation and surprise must have been perfectly mirrored as black orbs remained locked on aquamarine ones. So the hapless Turk who'd had his gun stolen had been him. The raven haired youth looked down at the slum dwelling scum under a new light, one with renewed interest. Whereas previously the prisoner's value had been nothing more than filth beneath his polished shoe, under the revelation that he'd managed to outwit the Turk, his view of Reno shifted to that of a diamond in the rough.
"Black hair... silky..." his hand lifted and pulled the band from around midnight strands, spilling the barely shoulder length hair around his face. "Like this?" The same hand moved to his own mouth, a tongue slicking it with saliva before moving down to encase his stiff flesh, covering it the fluid. It was the least he could do, considering the success of the interrogation.
Tseng lifted both of the prisoner's legs, bending them at the knees, curling them into the red head's body until he was spread wide open. With a sound akin to appreciation the Turk rocked his hips forward, entering the inmate's body in one swift stroke until he was fully seated, their bodies joined intricately in the dance of carnal desire.

Reno wasn't able to do much more than to nod slightly as the Turk loosened his hair band. His eyes were widened, the orbs shrinked to a pea of black in insecure aquamarine oceans.
As the Turk moved again a surprised gasp escaped out of the red-head's throat. When he grabbed his legs and forced them onto him his heart pounded restlessly in his chest. He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could think about what, the black haired man already buried himself deep inside him.
Reno arched his back on that table, his mouth ripped open in a silent scream. Choked gasps, rattling chains, heavy breathing... the table wasn't standing properly. It tilted with every slight move.
Damn... this guy was big...! It hurt. Probably because the skin was still bruised from that goddamn baton. But Reno was used to pain and this was bearable. He swallowed and relaxed as much as it was possible in his actual position, lying on hard wood, hands pinned over his head and unable to move. But he managed it somehow. At least a bit.
"What... are ya waitin' for, huh?" He hissed, trying to stifle the upcoming naughty grin with biting his lower lip.

Though every fiber in his body urged him to move, the Turk, even in the midst of such an intimate action was able to restrain himself. Fingers currently wrapped around the inmate's slim legs tightened until his knuckles turned white. The display of emotions that flickered through the other's face was a riveting sight, as open as a book and just as interesting. As the red head's forehead smoothed from its crease, the muscles surrounding Tseng's aching length became more accommodating, shifting and subtlety clenching until he was forced to close his eyes in concentration.
It was the final jibe that triggered the Turk into moving, a smirk curving the edge of his lips as dark eyes flew open. Without further warning the Wutain snapped slender hips back and just as quickly re-entered the prisoner. The pace he set would be considered brutal by some but Tseng saw little need to stretch the encounter out much further, his primary objective being that of attaining physical release.
But the needy little noises the red head made had Turk suspect that their lust fuelled encounter would be over far too quickly. Picking up the discarded hair-band, deft fingers slipped it around the red-head's package, rendering him incapable of reaching climax unless he was permitted to do so.

Reno pressed a groan through his clenched teeth as the Turk slammed back in. He gave his best to suppress every in his throat upcoming sound but the pace in which the guy was suddenly penetrating him didn't make it very easy. He flipped his head back, gritting his teeth and compressing his eyes, unable to hold back another moan.
The heavy storm of feelings in his groin made him tense up again. So much that the attached chains were as taut as bowstrings and the veins in his arms bulked out.
When he noticed that something got pulled over his bale he hesitated for the blink of an eye, but all the other happenings distracted him again so that he dropped any thoughts. The friction in the lower regions in his body soaked all the blood out of his head.
"... oh fuck...!" He gasped breathlessly and pressed his pelvis against the fierce, apparently unbridled motions of the Turk.

For that moment he was a puppeteer; every roll of hips evoking a jerk, a squirm, a cry of pleasure from the one pinned beneath him. Power over another was certainly addictive, something the Turk could grow used to and to exert his dominance further Tseng released the supple limbs, only to yank the red-head closer by the waist, for their encounter had begun to push Reno further and further away.
Cold and efficient. That was the reputation the young Turk had garnered, the status which could be applied to his current actions. Not a sound escaped his pursed lips bar the occasional murmur of encouragement when the strings were pulled to tight and Reno made an especially beguiling sound. Even though his body propelled forward almost viciously, driven by base instincts Tseng was not inconsiderate. A skilled hand reached for inmate's member, stroking him infallibly though the hair-band would prevent any untimely consequences.

Reno was overwhelmed by all the feelings. The Turk pounding into him, the firm touch of his already for release aching erection and both of that under the suddenly so lustful thought that he was defenselessly extradited to this man.
It was not really something new to him to get tied up during sex but the first time that the other guy gave him pleasure. And what pleasure! Breath taking, brain melting pleasure without any yet visible end.
The youth sought for release so badly that he couldn't prevent his body from squirming and moaning under every thrust, every touch, even every sound of that way too controlled voice of his punisher. Though he wasn't able to cum. He was so close, so damn close but still he couldn't. It was a cruel but sweet torture that made him melt on that frickin' dirty table.

It was certainly a sight for sore eyes, how such a primal act could so successfully bring a man to reduce himself to nothing more than a quivering mass of muscles and bone. All restraint lost, resistance discarded in favour of fervently reaching the end of a journey. And a climatic end it would be undoubtedly. His puppet would have his ties severed soon and be free to feel the climax he so desperately sought. But not before the raven haired Turk achieved his own goal; his target now hovered within grasp and Tseng chased it down masterfully with every plunge into the heated cavern of Reno's body.
A shuddering intake of air foretold that the elusive prey had been apprehended, caught within an intricate web of carnal passion. Iron grip tightened on the pale flesh of the inmate's hips and the other hand compressed around Reno's engorged length as the Turk emitted a soft grunt of release. The mark that he'd captured so rashly was ripped from his grasp, ripples of euphoric pleasure gathered to a point and burst, leaving a trail of white fluid in its wake. Gasping for breath, Tseng finally cut the strings of his coveted marionette, pulling the hair-band off the prisoner's reddened member, his movements slowly came to a grinding halt though his hand continued to tease relentlessly.

Reno did almost not notice the sudden irregularity in the Turk's motions, hid hitched breathing, the trembling of his hips and eventually the warm fluid which got pumped inside of him. The only thing he fully noticed was that the painful increased pressure in his groin faded away and got replaced by another even more intense feeling.
Unconsciously holding his breath he tensed his entire body up. Throaty short groans escaped his mouth with every twitch of his lower body and almost immediately every twitch was followed by spurts of thick milky liquid. The inmate arched his back moaning loudly as the overwhelming fire of his climax ran up his spine, accompanied by the noise of the rattling of the chains that pinned his hands above his head.
His breath normalised slowly. Still shuddering and gasping he gazed up to the Turk out of half lidded eyes though his brain was completely clouded.

Both missions accomplished, the Turk reluctantly withdrew from the sanctuary of the prisoner's body. As hypnotising as the red-head was in all his lilting sounds and agreeable actions, there were reports to fill and a Turk director to appease. Leaning over, Tseng yanked away the small knife that had been pinning the inmate in place, the impassioned breathing drawing his gaze downwards to wonder over Reno's face momentarily.
It was then, in a moment of weakness, he dipped his head and conquered those parted lips in a slow cavort of mouths and wetness, of heated tongues and soft pliable flesh until the ominous ring of his phone jarred the Turk back into his senses. Leaving his distraction, Tseng pulled out a handkerchief and cleaned himself up, re-acquiring his pristine composure before tossing the cloth towards the prisoner.
"Clean yourself up." He snapped then retreated to the far end of the room to answer the phone in a hushed tone of voice.

Reno needed a moment to gain his senses back. Still the Turk's scent in his mouth he sat up rubbing his wrists. They were bruised and sore but the inmate was still too dizzy to give a shit.
He picked up the handkerchief and wiped all the evidence of their encounter off, his eyes flickering to the Turk who was standing with the back to him and mumbling into his phone as if nothing had happened.
And Reno himself... hm... he wasn't sure what this even was. Did that guy just rape him? No... it has been way too good for that. So it was just the fact that the Turk found him kinda appealing maybe? And to be honest... he wasn't the red-head's preferred type of man - at least not so far - but he had something... juicy. And this dangerous aura...
Reno caught himself starring at the guys backside, let his gaze trail off and stood up to put his clothes properly on again.

Turning around with a faint scowl, the Turk snapped his phone shut, anger being taken out on the piece of electronic equipment instead of whom it was directed towards. Noting the slum dog was now more decently clothed, he folded his arms, a long inhalation of air preceding his next question.
"Do you want to be a Turk?" It sounded ridiculous even to himself but Veld had insisted. One that possessed a hand nimble enough to deceive one of the best was indeed a candidate for the group. Tseng was not pleased in the least. He had been hoping never to be reminded ever again of the spiraling downfall that led to his primeval actions and loss of carefully preserved control. How would be cope when the evidence of his failure joined his ranks? A constant reminder of the sinful act he had indulged in.

"W... what?" The redhead must have misheard since he thought the guy just had asked him if he'd want to be a Turk. That was ridiculous!
He hated Shinra, the entire corporation and especially his lapdogs. So why should he even think about being one of them?
The raven haired man didn't seem to be pleased at all himself.
So why did he ask him anyway?
Why did they want him?
He resumed this questions in one single word:
"... why?!"

It took two strides for the raven haired youth to close the distance between them, slender fingers lifting Reno's chin so he could peer into aquamarine orbs, gauging every reaction, good or bad.
"You can join us or remain here for the next two decades. Your choice." It was murder the inmate had been acquisitioned for, a life sentence was all he had to look forward to and with such pretty a face, not a night would go by where he wasn't in the company of one brute or another as demonstrated by the Turk's own loss of control.
The guilt, the remorse that verged on spilling was quickly dammed behind a gaze of steel. "It's your choice," Tseng reiterated, his voice almost a whisper and the hand loosened before the Turk turned on his heel to approach the door.

Reno watched him thoughtfully, now noticing that he'd held his breath.
He exhaled in a sigh. He'd got to face the truth... this offer was a precious gift which he'd never expected.
He could leave this damn jail, could leave all the bastards... be free. Free under Shinra though.
During the time on Midgar's streets Reno had learned that a quick decision can save life's. This time there was his own to save. Or rather to make it worth living at all.
So he did what he had to.
"What do I have to do?"

"Whatever you're told to do," Tseng deadpanned, a hand grasping and turning the handle. "Us Turks are Shinra's right hand men, that's all you need to know for now." The offer was a once in a lifetime one, a rare opportunity to escape the ties and sit above the regular laws of Midgar's mankind. No one in their right minds would turn it down, not in the face of a life sentence.
"We can offer you revenge," he murmured, memories recalling the very words that had been used on him by his current mentor. The bloodshed that followed had sated the Turk's innermost needs, and the sense of justice that followed cemented his allegiance, "against anyone who has wronged you."

"Alright." A shadow darkened his face at the word 'revenge'. "I already had mine." He said coldly. "But I'll keep that in mind yo."
Shuffling toward the suited man he raised the gun, balancing it with his pointer on the ring around the trigger. "Don't forget that. ... and sorry for smuttin' it."
Yeah... he was ready to go. Everything was better than this dirty whore hole and well... he had nothin' to lose anyway.

A survival instinct took over at seeing the prisoner in possession of a gun. His gun. Yet again. With unparalleled speed Tseng gripped the inmate by the wrist, the other hand disarming him with ease, though at seeing exactly how the gun had been presented, he did question the intent behind it. The Turk nodded whilst placing his beloved weapon in its holster.
"Alright. Come with me." The door was thrown open, a shaft of penetrating light forcing the Turk to lower his gaze. "You're a Turk now. We have a standard to uphold. Remember that and we should get along just fine"

Reno shrugged and raised his brows then. "Already? That was easy, yo." A dumb grin spread across his face and he nudged the other one with his elbow.
"So... we're work mates yet? Cool. How about repeating our li'l... encounter some day, mate?"
Yeah... Reno has never been the most intelligent guy in the world though he had no idea about what all that what just happened meant to him. It was more an adventure and he felt excited to discover his new life.

Tseng cast a dirty look behind him at the prisoner's question, extending their distance by stepping into the daylight, away from the many inquiries.
"This will not happen again." It was a statement of fact, for the Wutain had no intention of repeating what had just happened.

Reno snickered and waved at the guards and other prisoners when they passed them.
"Later bitches! ... or not, yo!"
Full of juvenility and relief to really leave this goddamn place he even wrapped both arms around Tseng's arm grinning but ignoring his words.
"So where do we go now? And how? Will I get such a sexy suit too now?"

"You will be issued a uniform," the Turk monotoned, leading the youth away from the meeting room and far from the guilt of what had transpired, even though Reno seemed to have forgotten already. "The Turk leader will fill you in." He shook off the former inmate with a scowl, patience wearing thin at his antics as they left the compound.

"Alrighty then!" Responded Reno still grinning. "And who's that? I'm lookin' forward to meet him, yo! Bet he's a really tough guy huh?"

"He's under our jurisdiction now," the Turk flicked a wrist dismissively towards the approaching guards with a look of disinterest, veering towards the exit doors with a steady gait, Reno faithfully in tow. "You'll find out when you see him." It was all he could muster, the constant chatter was already beginning to grate on highly strung nerves.

He located the company car with ease. It was parked obstinately in front of the building, all rules of permits and permission forgotten. The Turk slid into the driver's seat, an eye roving over the red-head's attire with disdain before he started the engine.
"Get in. You're going to become a Turk now. Learn to follow orders."

Reno yanked the door on the passenger's side open and took seat. Then he slammed the door shut with a loud bang. "Alright. I'm ready. Let's go, yo!"
Looking out of the window he slid down and slouched in his seat.
His life has got a new outlook and he couldn't await to find out what that meant for him.

Afterword (Just 'cos I feel the need to do this^^"):

Use condoms!

Since the Turk's are important members of Shinra, they have special medical treatment! Medics made of Mako energy help to keep them healthy and resistant to most diseases. Sexual transmitted diseases go with that what is why Tseng doesn't use one here.
*nods* okay that's it xD"

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