Today, it was a broom closet.

Sometimes, it's just too much. The lingering glances, the subtle (and sometimes not-so-subtle) innuendos, the long silences, and the casual touches—all culminate during the week to a peak when the time and place don't even matter anymore. And today it was a broom closet.

Was it dangerous? Obviously. Insane? No question. Stupid? That didn't even begin to describe it.

So why risk it? As Reno would say, "Because it's hotter than a Wallmarket Steet Rolex."

As far as broom closets go, this was about as safe as we could get in the Shin-Ra Tower, tucked away in the basement at the far end of the HVAC room. It wasn't even on the blueprint to the building. The only other people who might find their way down here were the Engineering staff, most of whom were at lunch now, and it wasn't much of a broom closet, either, as the only broom in here probably hadn't been touched since the building had opened. Half-used paint cans, some bottles of heavy-duty solvent, and an assortment of dirty rags lined the built-in shelves and provided our only backdrop.

And right now I had the best view on the Planet.

Reno grinned impishly at me, eyes sparkling like precious jewels from the single light bulb swinging above our heads. "Well, at least clean-up will be easy."

"Reno," I said flatly, "cleaning you up is an impossibility. You have to be willing to crawl out of the gutter first."

Reno pressed closer to me, finally breaking that imaginary barrier between us that we force between ourselves during regular working hours—when broom closets just aren't available. He flicked his tongue out just briefly and touched it to my lower lip. "It's much more fun to drag you down here with me," he rasped, his breath warm on my face.

He definitely had a point. Without any further delay, I devoured his mouth in an intense, biting kiss. Reno was delicious; he tasted like sin. It was a flavor I was getting very used to.

Reno immediately became pliant against me. I placed my hands on his hips and drove him back against the wooden work bench as I fumbled with the button fly on his black BDU pants—no blue suits today. We had spent the morning at the shooting range together to test some newly issued firearms and we weren't due back for another twenty minutes. Not a lot of time...but it was enough.

He'd been nearly too much for me to handle at the range. Or perhaps had been too much, considering where we were at the moment. It had begun by a "casual" brush of his hands against mine as he'd dropped a handful of bullets in my hand—just that small gesture had triggered everything...pardon the pun. I had practically been able to feel his eyes on me as he'd lounged against the back wall of our booth, watching me as I took my turn shooting at the paper target on the other side of the room, that long devious smirk fixed permanently to his lips as he watched me. And once when I swear I didn't know whether I would punch him or kiss him when he'd traded positions with me in the narrow booth and his chest had slid against mine, his hips just barely grazing my groin. "Oh, excuse me, boss," he'd said with false politeness.

I'd elbowed him in the stomach...not hard, just enough to let him know he'd been entirely too distracting and obvious, not to mention there was this thing of safety to consider when dealing with loaded weapons. And then I naturally proceeded to lean against that same wall and watch as he took his turn firing, admiring his precision with the gun. And if I happened to also admire the way his behind looked in those black cargo pants, the way that tight black t-shirt hugged his slim torso, the way that fire-red ponytail contrasted against his back, well...who could blame me? With the smell of gun smoke in the air and the atmosphere of danger and power, despite however safe we were in a supervised range, my senses became totally aroused.

Hey, I may prefer Classical to Punk, and Brandy to Beer, but I'm still male. I'm a Turk. What more need I say?

I had all but ordered him to this room upon our return. Of course, the order hadn't been at all necessary. He'd marched here without a question, and I'd found him waiting patiently after I had quickly detoured to shove the gun case—probably not as carefully as I should have—into my locker and burned a warpath here without bothering to change out of my matching fatigues. My jaw had been set, and my glare intense, and I'd walked with a brisk determination...and just as I'd hoped, nobody had dared to even make eye contact with me, let alone stop me on the way. Having a notorious reputation has its privileges.

"I better not get any splinters in my ass," he said. I'd worked the last button free and my hands immediately found themselves reaching into his fatigues, clutching those finely toned cheeks, kneading them greedily. I went to lift him up and set him on top of the surface so as to reach other parts of him just as easily. "I mean it," he warned stopping me with a hand on my shoulder, though his grin was still firmly in place. "I'll make you pick 'em out. With your teeth."

"Is that a challenge?" I growled thickly.

His mouth twitched. As did one ruddy eyebrow. "Well. Whatever you're in to."

"Yes, we keep meaning to explore that more, don't we?" I breathed over his ear, drawing his earlobe in my mouth, tonguing the silver hoop adorned there. Reno's hands weren't exactly idle as he moaned his pleasure. He tugged at the ends of my own shirt and pulled it up to expose my stomach, the fabric of the fine wicking mesh already sensual enough against my skin, let alone his fingers racing up and down my body.

I had been—and still am—Reno's first time with another man. While this manages to swell my ego to magnificent proportions, I also don't want to scare him off by coming on too strong. I am the more experienced in this arena between the two of us, though I actually doubt my general knowledge in the sexual arts supercedes his by much; so far everything I've suggested, he's approached wide open...er, so to speak. But we haven't explored everything, yet. Which is perfectly fine with me. Leaves some to look forward to. Not that I don't always look forward to this.

I ground my hips into him, hard, letting him feel the effects that being near him was having on my body. With his eyes squeezed shut, he braced himself against the work bench, rattling the whole structure to the wall. A container of some kind fell free from the shelf behind him, and we both held our breath for a moment wondering if it would break or spill. "Ah, hell," Reno griped.

While it didn't break, there was a spill. A clear, thick, viscous liquid spattered out and ran right over Reno's hand. He righted the bottle quickly, but then lifted his hand up, making a face of pure disgust as the substance dripped off him. "Ah—what the...yuck!" He was really resisting the urge to fling it off him. "What the fuck is this slime shit?"

I reached behind him and dipped my index finger into the little puddle, then rubbed it into my other fingers. The substance was slick. I smelled it. Odorless. I scanned the shelf behind him just briefly and saw a small plastic bucket filled with the basic, harmless ingredient that was now sure had spilled all over the work bench, and tasted it—

"What the hell you doing!"

And it tasted like nothing, too. "Methylcellulose," I explained, nodding to the plastic container on the shelf.

Reno looked behind him and read the label. "Well, what the hell is that? Do you always go around tasting everything that spills out of strange containers?"

"It's completely harmless," I told him. "Methylcellulose is used as a food additive, as an emulsifier, a thickening agent, as an ingredient in adhesive—"

"Jesus Christ, Tseng, you're eating glue?"

"It's not an adhesive. I said it's just an ingredient in some adhesives. It's also used in toothpaste, for that matter."

"Well, what's it doing down here?" he asked, still not convinced if the appalled look on his face was any indication.

"Mostly," I said, tracing my finger down the center of his coated palm, "it's used as a lubricant." I threaded my fingers through his, letting him feel the slick, viscous texture glide easily over his skin. He suddenly seemed less disgusted and more intrigued. "It's also quite inexpensive if you mix your own. They must use it to keep the machines oiled next door."

"Lubricant, eh?" he smirked. "Didn't know you knew so much about your lubes, Tseng," he purred.

I glided my fingers over the underside of his wrist, rubbing the substance over his skin, up his arm almost to the crook in his elbow. "I read a lot of ingredient labels," I counter-smirked. "Gives me something to do when I'm in the shower."

"I see..." Reno placed his goo-covered hand on my stomach and slid his way up to my chest. "So...we just found a regular fountain of fun, eh?"

He massaged my chest and then his nimble fingers traveled over to rub the substance on to my nipple where he toyed there for a moment with my sensitive flesh, lightly pinching it and teasing it to a hard peak. I hissed, squeezing my eyes shut for a moment and opening them again to watch his hand. "Seems so," I panted.

"Be kind of a shame to let this go to waste, huh?" He circled his index finger around my other nipple, giving it the same treatment.

I didn't answer. Words were lost to me, now. I yanked the button fly on my own pants open and let them fall to my ankles. I then pulled my silk shorts down, finally freeing my erection. I quickly repeated the action and undressed Reno the same way. We didn't have the time or luxury to get completely undressed, but this would do fine.

I dipped my entire hand in the puddle of liquid behind him on the work bench and grasped my length, sliding the head of my cock over his length, using my hand to stroke the both of us, working the lubricant over our erections. Reno, too, was now at a rare loss for words, and I watched his face, rapt with ecstasy, as fascinated by that as I was the feeling of my hand working over us. I could only stand watching him for a moment before I couldn't take it any longer, and I leaned in demanding another kiss from him. He seemed readily eager to comply and broke when it became too much.

"I want you inside me," I moaned against his neck. Again, no words, no sounds at all except a stuttered hitch in breath and a shaky sigh. I think Reno still believes that I am only humoring him when I don't always demand the lead. It's not that I don't love being inside him—nothing compares to that tight warmth, the feel of being joined with him, and he so eager to accept me. But I believe in equal pleasure for both partners. And I do love the feel of him buried inside me to the hilt, thrusting against me so hard, it's a pleasure that borders on pain...or the other way around. The submission, the pain, the pleasure...right now I needed all of it. I needed him.

"I want you to fuck me, Reno," I whispered to him. "Hard. Fast. Now." Smooth eyelids drifted shut and his lips parted as he drew in rapid breaths. He answered with a jerky little nod. Nothing emphasizes a point like a well placed vulgarism when you need it. I think that surprises him sometimes almost as much as what I was asking for.

I took his arm and pulled him from the work bench. "Trade with me," I said softly, and then grinned as he passed by me and I placed a kiss on the side of his mouth. "No splinters for you today."

Reno rolled his eyes and smiled. "Damn. I was so looking forward to it, too."

I took my position over the work bench, which was just above waist level for me, and sighed when Reno covered my back. His hands smoothed down my sides, over my ribs. I heard him hum appreciatively when he stroked my buttocks and the back of my thighs.

I pushed back against him, no longer able to wait, and felt his cock rest in the cleft of my ass. He worked his hands over me a little longer, massing the muscles in my legs, buttocks, and hips. Then he swatted me on one cheek. "Get yourself ready," he ordered gruffly. "I wanna watch."

I grinned to myself; Reno really was getting the hang of things. Very soon I wouldn't be able to hold back on anything I wanted to do with him—and I could still think of quite a bit.

Obeying, I slowly trailed my fingers in the slick lubricant again, coating my fingertips with it generously. I spread my legs as wide as I could with my trousers still pooled around my ankles, and leaning over and placing my forearm on the workbench, I began to tease Reno with a nice show. I knew we didn't have too much time, though, so I immediately reached behind me, circling my opening with the substance on my fingers, and slowly penetrated myself. Reno gasped, and I could hear the wet, slick sounds of his hand racing over his own length as I fingered myself with deeper and faster thrusts.

"Add another," he demanded, and I complied immediately, inserting two fingers now, stretching myself, preparing myself for him. "Ahhgod," he moaned.

"Don't you dare come," I reminded him and heard him slow his movements immediately.

"Goddammit, I can't help it, Tseng. You're so fuckin' hot. I want you, now."

"Do it," I said, removing my fingers and reaching back for him instead. He moved toward me and I felt for his length, gripping him tight in my hand as I guided his cock between my buttocks. I rubbed the slippery tip of his length around my tight ring, and then pushed myself back onto him.

I whispered his name, and he moaned mine in unison, halting all our movements just a moment as we both adjusted to the sensation. Another reason I insist on trading the dominant and submissive roles—we both know what the other partner is fully experiencing. And while I realize we ultimately concentrate on our own pleasure in the course of one coupling, it enhances it to know what the other feels.

"Oh Jesus, you're so tight, Tseng," Reno gasped.

I coaxed him by moving my hips forward, feeling his length slide nearly out of me, and then I pressed back again as he countered my movements, thrusting himself all the way into me. I gasped again, throwing my head back, when Reno took complete initiative and drove into me hard, hitting that spot deep inside me that felt like an electric current coursing through my whole body. "Oh gods, Reno. Harder."

And Reno had no problem meeting my request. He plunged deep inside me again, rotating his hips as he did to maximize the sensation. He quickened his pace, and I knew this wouldn't last much longer. I dragged my fingers through the lubricant once more—not that we needed anymore...we were virtually dripping with it already—and grabbed my own length, squeezing and gliding my hand over my cock to pleasure myself. I closed my eyes and concentrated on these sensations fully. I was startled to hear Reno hum close to my ear as he bent over me and pulled my left hand away as he reached for me with his right. "Need a hand?" I heard the grin in his voice as he began to stroke me in a way that was nothing short of amazing.

It had only been three weeks now that Reno's dominant hand had been free of its cast after a six week tenure of having the damn thing on since he'd broken it in action. He'd received that injury the same day we'd first become lovers—incidentally, also my birthday. His dominant hand had been relatively useless since, particularly in this application of things. To feel his hand on me, gripping me firmly for the first time... To say it felt amazing was an understatement. He'd been walking around for three weeks now squeezing a racquetball in his hand for therapy treatment, trying to build up the muscles and tendons in his wrist and fingers again. I was the first to admit now that, despite how ridiculous he looked carrying around a ball everywhere he went, the treatment seemed to be working just fine.

Nine weeks total now—just a little over two months—that Reno and I had become lovers. It was an adjustment for us both. Sometimes I still wake up in the morning and wonder what I've gotten myself into. Having been sexually inactive for so long, I had denied myself the very basic of human needs, finally giving in to him. Reno himself admitting to having never experienced another man before me...it was a shocking revelation to me. Not because Reno presented himself effeminate or anything of the sort, but because he had been attracted to me, had been willing to give himself to me, he trusted me enough to do so. All these sensations, these revelations, I tried to not let affect me emotionally. But with each new coupling, it was becoming apparent that neither of us was about to give this up anytime soon. It felt too good...in so many ways.

My knees weakened; if he had not been there to hold me up (at both ends), I'd have collapsed. His hand was working me almost brutally now as he pounded hard into me. It was too much. I pushed over that edge and shuddered into his hand, spilling my release onto the concrete floor beneath us, as I dug my nails into the wooden workbench and gritted my teeth hard to keep from crying out. Reno's grasp did not loosen nor slow down, and I gripped his forearm to try to still him, as it seemed the orgasm he was wrenching from me would last forever, even after I had emptied myself completely. I idly wondered if I could go mad from this. "Reno," I whimpered, the sensitivity become too intense, "please..."

Finally he let me go to rise up behind me and grab my hips to help leverage himself, thrusting into me even harder than before. I could feel his cock pulsing inside me, swelling. I reached down between my legs to feel for his scrotum, tight now in his arousal, and stroked him with my hand as I squeezed around him from inside, coaxing the orgasm from him. Then he stopped and bent over me, sinking his teeth into my back to stifle his own cry as he came deep inside me. I felt the pain of his bite and hissed my satisfaction, vaguely becoming aware that my hand had found my cock once more, still fully erect, as it twitched from my recent climax, as I gently teased the slick head with my thumb.

Finally, with a pair of pathetic whimpers, it was over. Reno extracted his teeth from my skin and laid his cheek on my back, and though I couldn't see the bite mark, I knew it had to be fairly deep just from how it felt. Reno, as I had discovered fairly early on, is a habitual biter. I constantly berate him about it and pretend like this actually bothers me. Truthfully, short of trying to take my life, Reno would have a very difficult time doing anything that would bother me.

The room was quiet now as we each tried to gain control of our breathing. Reno didn't move to pull from me yet—neither of us moved. We knew this was about as much afterglow as we were likely to get. I just remained bent over the workbench a moment, waiting for my heart to slow down. I could still feel him inside me as his arousal began to relax, and the warm wetness seeping from my body. Together with the gel we'd slathered over ourselves, and the slick sweat on our skin, I'd say we worked up quite a mess. It was, admittedly, a rather guilty pleasure of mine. It's not often I get an excuse to experience such primal compulsions.

Reluctantly, I pushed my elbows straight and lifted myself up, looking for anything to aid in our clean-up. I spotted a bag of unopened shop rags on the shelf in front of me, grabbed it and tore it open handing one back to Reno.

"Eh?" he said, groggily as I hit him in the head with it. He peeled his face off my back and lifted himself up, taking the cloth I offered to him. "Oh shit, I'm sorry..." He brushed the mark on my skin he'd left with his teeth.

"Did you draw blood?" I asked casually.

"Not this time."

I snorted softly and shook my head as I wiped the slippery gunk off my hands. "I'm going to file your teeth down one of these nights while you sleep, Reno."

"Oh, right, you love it," he chided playfully, shoving my shoulder as an instruction to bend over again. I knew what was coming now and I didn't want it to. He pulled from me, the sensation wrenching a gasp from us each. I had become used to Reno's presence in my body and I didn't want it to end. Now we were back in the real world with deadlines and responsibilities to maintain, and I briefly had the urge to yell "TO HELL WITH IT ALL" to everything and whisk Reno away with me somewhere else secluded, private...ours. It was an impossible fantasy, but it was all I had at the incongruent moment of standing in a dirty broom closet bent over a workbench while my lover used a shop rag to clean me off after sex.

Reno quickly dabbed me with the rag. "God, Tseng. You got me wiping your ass for you now, too. And yet I'm still working for the same salary I was two years ago. You drive a hard bargain for a raise, boss."

I think—I'm not entirely sure, but I think—I might have actually blushed. Only Reno. "It's comments like that that keep you from getting one." I twisted around and smacked his hand away. He snickered as he unceremoniously cleaned himself off, and then pulled up and fastened his trousers, gracelessly adjusting himself in front of me with a wicked grin. His eyes were rife with mischief. Well... It's good we were past the awkward stage of things. Of course, in retrospect, I think that lasted all of maybe ten minutes with Reno. He is shameless about who he is and makes no apologies for any of it. It is part of his, er...charm. Sure. I'll go with that.

We finished cleaning and disposing of all evidence that we had been there, except for the bottle of Methycellulose. I'd told Reno to leave it tipped over on its side, as it had been when we knocked it there. It would look like an accident and nothing more—not that anyone who came in here would even notice. It's funny that in actuality, we couldn't have asked for a better substance if we had planned it that way. Some days we just get lucky, I suppose. I straightened my uniform fatigues, and except for a slight pink glow to our cheeks, Reno and I looked completely innocent. Well. In a manner of speaking.

"Two o'clock staff meeting with Heidegger," I said, glancing down at my watch. "We have ten minutes to get there."

"Ah, good. I could use a nap now," Reno said with a lazy stretch.

I shook my head and gazed at him for just one moment, then grabbed a fistful of his t-shirt and dragged him close giving him one full and final kiss. His hands found my rear instantly, and I instinctively pressed against him again. Realizing what I was doing, I forced myself to break the kiss, and took a few deep breaths. I pried his hands off my backside.

Reno sighed dolefully and leaned up against the workbench. "Too bad you didn't get any splinters," he grinned again.

"Not back there anyway," I said, inspecting my fingers and picking a small splinter imbedded under my nail. "Next time you can pick wood out of your fingernails."

He smiled—a genuine smile, not the cocky one he usually wears. "Long as there is a next time, I'm not picky..."