Title: A Good Idea
Characters/Pairing: Reno/Rude (a bit of a Rude/Reno/Tifa triangle if you squint)
Author's Notes: Started as a pairing whim, turned into a justification and subversion of Reno's depiction as a womanizer, and ended as a parody of itself.
Disclaimer: I obviously don't own the Final Fantasy VII franchise. If I did I'd actually have money, I probably wouldn't spend time writing fanfiction, and various FFVII characters would/wouldn't be dead.
A Good Idea
They really aren't drunk. They aren't. Reno hadn't even finished his whiskey before deciding that sneaking upstairs was definitely a good idea. That letting Rude press him against the wall, kissing him and kissing him and kissing him, was a good idea. Maybe it was the thrill of doing this under Tifa's roof just to piss her off. Or the fact that Rude wasn't exactly vocal but Reno had definitely caught him murmuring his name — Reno, not Tifa. So maybe that was why. Because neither of them were drunk enough to write this off as a whim. They weren't even buzzed. Hell, Rude had only drunk seltzer since they got here. That fact burns in the back of Reno's mind as he continues to kiss down Rude's neck, letting his coworker draw out a groan when Rude grinds his hips against him.
Admittedly, Reno had a reputation. But it wasn't exactly warranted. He hadn't been in a committed relationship or even dated since joining the Turks. The only game in town when you're married to the job is colleagues, but Reno had never crossed the line. He flirted like it was in his job description, but nothing serious. No promises, minimal physical contact. Just enough teasing to have Elena angrily threaten him with a sexual harassment complaint or reduce Reeve to stuttering uncertainty after stumbling into a conversation about sexuality. There was that one time he had gotten drunk at Seventh Heaven and ended up making out with Tifa in the storage room. But they agreed it was a one-time thing. She was angry at being left behind once again while that spiky-haired not-boyfriend of hers took his angst show on the road. And Reno had been drunk and bored and curious as to whether Rude would be pissed at him for scoring with his crush. Rude stopped speaking to him for four months after that little tryst, but Reno still wasn't sure if it was out of anger or Rude being his usual imperceptible self. Though he had assured Rude that he was lucky he never got any action with Tifa because she didn't pull punches and Reno spent a good month sporting bruises from that ill-advised encounter.
So, anyway, the point was, Reno didn't make a habit of this. He could count on one hand the numbers of times he had someone in his bed since becoming a Turk. And, as for screwing around, he had never gone this far with Rude. He usually reserved mild flirtatious one-liners for Rude, just enough innuendo to fluster or exasperate the man, depending on his mood. Nothing in their relationship indicated they would end up here. Reno tried not to sound too out of breath as Rude pressed him more firmly against the wall, his fingers dropping to the zipper of Reno's pants.
"Not that I'm… " he cut himself off with a moan as Rude finally managed to get a hand into his pants and palm him through his boxers. Taking a bracing breath, he tried again, "I'm not complaining. This is pretty hot. But I'd rather not get cockblocked by Tifa catching us in her upstairs hallway and slamming me through a wall. Uh, you know, the distinctly non-sexy version of slamming me through a wall."
He smirked when he felt more than heard Rude chuckle at that and took the opportunity to grip Rude's hips and push him back, letting his gaze momentarily drop southward to assess just how much Rude wanted this. His mind buzzing pleasantly with desire, he pulled Rude into the nearest room and closed the door, taking just enough time to jam the back of a desk chair under the handle just in case. They had plenty of time to figure this out, but he knew this was definitely a good idea.
Part two: A somewhat humorous conclusion to the story. Because I can't write smut.