A/N: Just a minor bit of clarification for this story. I have not played Dirge so I'm not familiar with WRO or whatever the hell it is and how Reeve is associated. That being said, for the sake of this story I'm going to assume he's still linked with Shin-Ra. So deal with it. R&R, I definitely appreciate any and all feedback. And thank you to everyone who already has. I'm working my little brain in a frenzy with this story. Peace be with you.

"Boys Don't Cry"
Drunken Emotion

Feelings. Feelings made what was once rational, irrational. Feelings made everything that was once logical, illogical. This was the exact issue Reno Tarshil was beating himself senseless over.

Their second sexual escapade had set a new tone to the blooming relationship. What seemed as just casual acquaintances could thereafter be graciously labeled as 'friends-with-benefits'. Aside from their lust-filled encounters, they had learned a bit more about each other's anatomy than the normal friend would have ever thought to wonder such as Tifa's red zones lying with the tender flesh just below the earlobes, the center of her breasts, and the inner bend of her arms. She in turn learned rather quickly Reno's sensitive spots lingered along his spine and feather-light caresses to his ankles.

It appeared on the surface to be meaningless, spontaneous acts of fornication with one's former adversary after hours; while fucking each other's brains out, the rest of the population slept within their cozy beds heedless to the acts done upon the bar counter, or the floor, or against various walls...

But to Reno Tarshil, second in command to the Shin-Ra Turks; it was anything but meaningless sex.

All he could do was blame himself. If he hadn't pushed her the first time, if he hadn't opened his big mouth about Cloud--hell, if he hadn't been born, none of this would have taken place. In fact, he was content with blaming his mother for fucking his father and popping him out of...wherever babies came from. Perhaps the thought was a little out there, but one thing he was definitely to blame for...

He should have never gone back on his rule of 'no second time lovers'.

Because of the travesty he brought upon himself, he was left with the bitter consequences of feelings. Even though it didn't seem right to focus the blame to a second night of passion, Reno was happy to oblige the temporary relief it gave him. However, it didn't come close to solving the initial problem.

He was still stuck with this feeling. A feeling that made his heart pound and his blood boil. A feeling that caused his fleeting thoughts to focus on a fantasy containing a lifetime of subtle routine and joint living accommodations with her. A feeling that gripped him like a golden bear trap, locked and chained tight from any hope from release. The poor bastard was stuck.

Over the course of the week, Tifa and Reno often found themselves in compromising positions after bar hours which always ended with the redhead returning to his cold quarters after he laid his lover to rest. They'd never speak of the act after it occurred, completely content with the silent knowledge that it happened, and they were more than pleased with the results. As far as they knew, no one else was aware of their erotic confrontations despite the questions upon the tongues of Tifa's workers or the knowing look from Reno's comrade Rude.

Unaware of whom she was receiving pleasure from, her waitresses were very much aware she was receiving it from somewhere, and it surely wasn't from her blond come-and-go roommate that had been absent forever and a day. Upon their inquiries, she'd merely smile and carry on with whatever task beheld her. It wasn't their business, and she was aiming for it to remain that way.

When it came to Reno's bald best friend, he seemed to be able to read Tarshil like an open book. They'd been friends and partners for years, and if Rude was satisfied with an extended speech pattern, he'd probably be able to finish his friend's sentences. Alas, such was not the case and both were glad for it. Might as well be joined at the hip if they started that bullshit. But Reno didn't have to say anything at all. Never did he question his behavior or where he was located at ungodly hours of the night. Sometimes when a friendship is that strong...you just know.

He also knew of the feeling his friend was being pestered with. It was like an infection within the Turk that held only one cure, one the infected wasn't quite willing to touch just yet. Rude never asked, but boy was he curious. But it was also clear to him whatever was going on with her meant more to him than he was willing to let on. That was just Reno's way.

And a scheduled poker night would prove just how deep those feelings laid.

O o O

"I know you're there, Rude!" Reno half yelled, half slurred down the street as his right toe collided with the beaten curb. He was lucky to catch his balance with the street light in his path, but barely.

Leaving Reeve's home after what was suppose to be a friendly night of poker left this Turk in a foul mood beyond even his understanding. It was supposed to be poker. Just poker. But no, thanks to Elena who couldn't seem to handle losing her hard-earned company gil to her second in command every hand tried on her nerves a bit too much, opted for a change of pace that inadvertently set the record straight of Reno's nightly excursions. The change of pace was the most juvenile drinking game he'd ever heard of, but since the others were just as tired of losing their money, they seemed to be gung-ho for the idea.

He knew he worked with a load of queers.

"I never slept with three people in the same night," Elena said, a goofy grin on her face as she scanned the participants of their little drinking game.

It had struck one a.m. three minutes ago when the Shin-Ra poker buddies abandoned their game for a juvenile drinking game courtesy of Elena's request. She, of course, was obliged with the first question of the night.

Reeve took a swift surveillance of his condo to realize chairs were not yet upturned and beer bottles didn't litter the plush cream carpet and wooden dining table just yet--most had actually made it to the waste bin. It gave him a small sense of relief to know he wouldn't have to exert too much energy to bring his comfortable abode to order. That could change of course, but for the time being he'd take pleasure with the earlier assessed knowledge. Upon the quick survey, he couldn't help but also take note of Reno's somber mood. Tseng usually had that benefit, yet he seemed to be in rare form himself. He had decided to indulge himself in some of the alcoholic festivities and was obviously feeling the effects of said beverages. He seemed...content, less stiff than the Tseng everyone within the room was used to.

He also took a shot, which caused the other comrades in the room to stare in quiet shock. Tseng merely looked at his co-workers with a grin and a shrug, "I had my wild times in the past."

Elena forced her agape mouth shut before reaching for the vodka bottle and pouring her boss another, readying him for the next round, "Okay okay, it's your turn."

"This is a God damn retarded game, Laney," Reno suddenly piped up, focusing his attention on the deck of cards by attempting a card house...and failing repeatedly. His partner Rude reached to aid his efforts, but the hand was promptly swatted away, "My house."

His mind for the most part was on other things, and attended the current event to kill time before meeting up with his 'friend'. Saturday nights always had Tifa working later than usual due to the abundant demands of customers and the surplus numbers that came to the facility. Patience was a virtue, but it was one he was severely lacking at this moment in time.

"Puh-lease, Reno. A bit adverse to trying something new?" Elena retorted with a roll to her eyes. Reno cut her a glare while opening his mouth to respond, but was cut off quickly by his blond comrade whose attention was completely on Tseng. He was busy balancing his metallic foldout chair on the back legs with a wild smile to his lips. It didn't seem he could handle his liquor entirely too well, which would make perfect sense as to why he didn't regularly touch the stuff in the first place, "Come on Tseng, ask something."


"Fuck Tseng, I got one." Reno announced, grinning mischievously at the female Turk, "I never drew doodles of me and Tseng's future together with 2.5 children, a dog, a cat, and a house with a white picket fence and leave it in my desk drawer, top left brilliantly filed under 'unfinished mission reports'."

The statement earned dead silence as all eyes fell upon a red-faced Elena, who could do nothing more than raise a trembling shot glass to her lips and throw back the liquid with an unsatisfied 'gulp'. Silence fell away as a warm eruption of hysterical laughter filled the complex. Even Tseng found himself basking in the humor at her expense.

Upon seeing her evident humiliation, Reno almost felt sorry for attacking below the belt. He hadn't had a cigarette in a week and a half, his inner turmoil was frustrating the hell out of him, and all he could do is take it out on the one woman of their group who obviously had a difficult time handling it. But hell...she was such an easy target.

What would Tifa say about his actions...

He frowned at himself, his laughter quieting almost instantly at the thought, "Hey, Elena, I didn't me--"

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck you Reno!" She bellowed, followed by a drinker's cough, the alcohol burning with a sensational lick in the back of her throat. With a deep breath, she calmed herself, her hazel eyes cutting over to the scarlet haired Turk with vengeance in her eyes. "I've got your game, you little bitch. I've never bought flowers for Tifa Lockhart."

The tension was so thick it was as if everyone was stuck within their own red brick wall. Reno in particular was actually at a loss for words. How did she know! It seemed so long ago in his mind that he had purchased that gift of forgiveness, and the buds themselves had long since dried and died out. Sure, people knew he bought flowers, but how did she know whom they went to? He should have known walls had ears and big mouths, like she did. He was a bit too embarrassed and irritated himself to make logical sense of it. All he knew was he wasn't ready to approach this issue, wasn't ready to come clean.

And he didn't have to--It was Rude who downed his shot.

"Rude," Reeve said softly, watching the large man shift in his seat as Reno's eyes pierced right though his skin, "I didn't realize you and Tifa had something going. I figured she would have mentioned it."

"Because they're fucking not, that's why. Rude, you lying sack of shit, you don't have to lie for me. I'm a big boy, you know," Reno scolded, "You better not have or I'll kick your sorry ass so hard you'll sprout hair from your head to your ass." He instantly felt guilty for the accusatory remark. It was that spark of jealousy coming to haunt him. It was brief, merely light in the dark, but present all the same. His friend simply made an attempt to save his face, and he did nothing but proverbially slap him for it. Fortunately for him, Rude appeared completely unfazed by the threat.

However, someone in the room just couldn't let well enough alone.

"I never slept with Tifa Lockhart."

Elena's one problem throughout her entire career was that she talked just way too much. She revealed too much information, and didn't know when to shut her mouth.


This was obviously one of those times.

It would appear everyone sobered immediately with the comment, and all eyes shifted around the room. No one moved--no one but Reno.

Tonight was obviously the night the secrets were to come out, and for Reno's sake he was willing to numb himself for the experience. He first reached for his shot glass as his intense aqua eyes connected with the inquirer, who sat frozen and afraid of what he might do finally coming to grips she'd made a terrible error in judgment. A drunk Reno had a tendency to be pretty unpredictable, "You don't know what you're missing. In fact, I fucked her once," he downed his shot, and snatched Elena's up from across the table so quick she flinched at the action, but remained silent, "twice," Tseng's was next on the list whose system was probably completely drained of the mind-altering alcohol by now, "thrice...hell, you fuckers ain't got enough shots on the God damn table with how many times I made her scream my name!" With that, he scooped up the bottle and guzzled the remainder without so much as a momentary breath to steady the flow. It was as if he swallowed the vodka waterfall in one go.

Reeve was at a loss, but only for a second as he was quickly realizing what this situation was about to turn into. Reno was at best a happy drunk, but if angered while drinking, the effect could be more than disastrous--it could cause causalities, "I think it's time for everyone to go home."

Without protest, Elena grabbed for her coat and bolted for the door, hoping to be quick enough before Reno caught sight of her departing figure. With luck on her side, the man in question ignored her retreat to turn to Rude, who regarded him quietly with calm concern, "Rude...next time I see that bitch, I swear I'm gonna pistol whip her."

"You did start it," Rude defended, obviously unconcerned by Reno's potential for a mood swing. They'd been drinking buddies for as long as he could remember, and never had he been struck by his friend.

Reno found himself glaring heatedly at the bald Turk, aggravated by his stance on the issue, "Pssh, whatever. She started it with that stupid game. What the hell was it called? And you dumb queers went along with it. Of all the lame shit you guys have agreed to, this has gotta be the lamest, girlyist--know what...forget it, I'm outta here."

All four men stood simultaneously, but it was only the redhead of the bunch that moved, and stumbled toward the front door. The liquor hit him at once, as if he'd been socked in all body parts at least twice and left him struggling to regain ground. He managed, but not without the aid of a wall or two. In the distance, he heard a brief conversation. He couldn't make out most of what was said, except for the last sentence stated by Tseng, "It would be best if you follow him home. There is no telling what he'll do this night."

Assholes.

So now he had a pint of pent up aggression toward a particular female Turk as well as three beers, and a bottle and a half of vodka in his system. Making his way through the streets of Midgar was no easy feat, but he was surely managing. He also noticed, despite his glazed over vision, that a certain blue suit was following him every step of the way. Picking out the unique sound of the footsteps, he narrowed the stalker down to his good friend Rude who apparently wasn't comfortable watching his partner in crime make it home alone without a distant escort. Not to mention Tseng told him to.

By now he must have been aware it wasn't home that Reno was going to.

He missed her. In these past hours of work and play, she was the on the forefront of his mind. The event that had taken place less than an hour ago had only made the feeling worsen three fold. Elena knew. That meant everyone on that side of the Planet knew as well. Had word gotten back to Tifa, or was the information still deaf upon her ears? He couldn't know unless he asked, and he would rather ignore it than approach it, just like everything else in his life.

When did things become so complicated? Since when did he care if anyone knew he was having wild, passionate, almost frequent sex with a former Avalanche crony? When did his heart begin to override his mind and his conscience become a prominent factor in his life? His mind was telling him to back off, to quit before it became too painful. But Reno was also stubborn, and allowed his heart for once to do some of the talking. Not all of course, or else he would have told her...

"You know what Rude? You bein' my freakin' shadow ain't really all that cool and shit... Go home, man," the words were barely coherent as they tumbled from his lips. He was sweating from the humidity and the alcohol seeping from his pores, his body releasing the poisons from inside. He was half a street away from his destination, and it was time for his silent companion to hightail it.

To his surprise, his bald stalker stood before his eyes, as if he appeared through a magical fog and materialized before him. Instead it was just Reno's brain processing his arrival a bit too late, "You don't seem in any condition for her company."

Her company... Tifa. "What the hell do you know?" Reno snapped, realizing suddenly that trying to stand straight in one spot wasn't working out, and consciously leaned his back against a light post behind him. The post was a few steps farther than anticipated, and he crashed against the metal stand, but accomplished his goal nonetheless. The light was annoying, but it was currently the least of his problems. It'd been weeks since he'd gotten piss drunk, and didn't have the intention to that night either. But circumstances arose, and that clear, flaming heaven in a bottle did just the trick to numb some of the hurt he was ignoring, "I'm fine, seriously."

Rude didn't even have to say a word before he confessed. "Okay, no, I'm fuckin' drunker than Tseng is impotent. So the fuck what?"

"I think you should go home."

Reno glared dangerously, shaking his head and wavering with the motion. He made a mental note not to repeat it, "Hell no, Rude, I'm already here. I gotta see her..." His mouth was suddenly dry as he attempted to swallow. The confession left an odd taste in his mouth, and a different pattern for his heart to beat to.

Rude noticed the subtle change, and his expression softened slightly, "Why don't you just give in?"

Although he was inebriated to the point of stumbling and forgetting his mother's name, he still comprehended the question. He comprehended everything in relation to her... "Because...because I don't..."

"You don't deserve her."

It all made sense to him, even in a moment where the alcohol in his system had the potential to wipe his memory slate clean of this night once his head hit a pillow, he knew why everything was so complicated. He knew why this entire adventure with Tifa Lockhart had his mind in such a twist since it started. He couldn't tell her, because he didn't deserve her. He couldn't progress, because he didn't deserve her. Sure, he'd toyed with the idea before, but he hadn't realized until that moment that he truly believed it--wholeheartedly.

But there was something much deeper and barely touched upon since it passed. The one love of his life rejected his due to his occupation. He couldn't possibly convey how much Sauntia had meant to him to the other woman in his arms, and how ready to she was to abandon him despite his compromising position with finances and his grandmothers' needs, but she had left a wound that never healed, and it was a gash he didn't care to subject himself to a second time. It was the reason for his rule long since broken that began his downward spiral into self-doubt and uncertainty.

"She already knows you're a Turk. And she accepts you still," Rude really could read him like an open book. He deftly remembered the night he had spoken to his companion about his lost love with such clarity he felt his throat constrict for an instant. The bottled emotion was becoming a ticking time bomb with its detonation set too close for comfort.

"Tifa is good one." Rude's voice snapped him clear from his train of thought and back into reality, with shining streetlights and howling alley dogs. "You should give it a try."

"Yeah," Reno agreed quietly, feeling himself sober minimally with the conversation and distant memories, "I'll have to kill Strife first, though."

Rude smirked at the comment, nodding in agreement, "He's only an obstacle if he's around."

"That's what you think!" the redhead shot back, recalling what it took to get her to cease from making references to the Chocobo-boy, for the sadness in her eyes to wash away when and if she thought of her longtime childhood friend, "It was a bitch and a half to get her to quit crying over the puberty stricken bastard."

"But she did."

In his own little way, Rude was trying to give him some encouragement, some supportive words to be unafraid to approach the next step, to rinse away the fear that had him spellbound from acknowledging the feeling that was holding him hostage. Reno wasn't prone to such attachment, and it wasn't something that was ready to turn tail and flee for its next victim. This Turk was stuck like Chuck at a chick flick. "Rude, I didn't mean to...you know, earlier, jump on ya back there about sticking up for me."

His friend held up a hand and shook his head. He already knew, and there was nothing left to say. "Be good to her." With those final words, Rude did as earlier requested by his partner in crime, and left Reno to his endeavor. And as Reno watched him fade to black, he couldn't be more content with the type a man that lay within the retreating figure. Sometimes no words were necessary--you just knew what they were before they're ever spoken.

Then it hit him. Be good to her? What about him? What about his feelings? Didn't anyone care about his heart being splattered on the pavement by the martial artist's fists? It also occurred to him his track record was a bit more questionable than her own. He supposed the concern was justified. Besides, if memory served him correctly, Rude's affections were directed toward Miss Lockhart at one point in time. Still...

Taking in a very deep, steadying breath, Reno tested his balance away from the lamppost. It was wobbly, but as long as his heels stayed on concrete he was good to go. Falling into his drunken stride, he resumed his trek toward 7th Heaven with a bit of lingering hesitation. Earlier, nothing could stop him from stepping through the doorway, taking her in his arms and relishing in the time they had to spend with one another, even if they did retain the title of 'friends'. Now, with his thoughts in such a jumbled mess, he wasn't sure what he wanted any longer. This thought gave him slight pause, but soon continued with the tight clench within his chest at the thought of abandoning an opportunity with her.

When he entered the complex, the lights remained on and the majority of the chairs and stools were upturned above ground. The floor was speckless and the glasses sparkled with a glossy, spotless finish. It was the trivial these things he noticed first and foremost before his vision registered the off-duty bartender. She sat within the last remaining chair upon the wooden floor, her form slumped over the table with her head cradled snuggly against her folded arms. There was such a peaceful look upon her face, he didn't dare wish to disturb her.

He knew she'd sat up waiting for him even though her night had to have been beyond exhausting as Saturday nights always tended to be. Her only relief was in the knowledge of Sunday being a gracious rest period as the bar remained closed to give the beaten bartender a much-needed breather. She worked too hard.

Upon closing and locking the door behind his entrance, he carefully shuffled to her side. Sobriety was slowly creeping on him, but not as swiftly as he would have liked. Allowing her to slumber in such a position was not at all acceptable. He knew how it felt the next morning--neck in a crick and spine at a curve.

Gathering all of his sobering strength in the task, he curled an arm beneath the bend of her bare legs as he pulled the rest of her body against his chest. So soft and firm, she felt divine against his physique. Even as she shifted in her sleep, her warmth spread throughout his body and just for a moment made him feel whole again. This feeling was certainly magical as it was destructive. It would all depend on how it was handled in the future.

The pathway upstairs was more challenging than anticipated. With every two steps up, Reno felt himself stumble a step back down. And when he allowed her feet to crash with the undisturbed banister, he scolded himself for his lack of focus and motor skills. Forcing himself the rest of the way with speed and efficiency, he all but dropped Lockhart onto her perfectly made bed, complete with clean linen and fluffy, scream muffling pillows.

As eyelids fluttered slowly open, her hands grasped at his collar before he could completely pull out of her line of fire, "Reno...come lay down with me."

There was no protest in his body language, though he realized how difficult sharing her single bed was about to be. Tifa seemed to realize this as well, scooting over as far as she could muster as the Turk slid to lie beside her. With a bit of maneuvering, the two managed to cuddle comfortably together. Reno lay with half of her body upon him, the other half upon the bed beneath.

"You've been drinking." Tifa stated. If there was one thing that never got past her, it was a man who had been indulging in alcoholic pleasures way too much in one night.

Reno didn't let the comment faze him. Instead he claimed playful ignorance, "How do you figure?"

His inquiry recieved laughter from his companion, which in turn gave him a reason to find the humor, "You practically bumped me into a wall on the way up, and you reek of vodka."

Reno frowned slightly at the reply, craning his head to look down into her face, "You were awake the whole time?"

She nodded, yawning as she answered him, but didn't grace him with a verbal reply. Sleep was beginning to reclaim her, and she was just about willing to give in to its call.

The Turk simply listened to the soft breaths she emitted as he noticed them fall into a steady pattern. He knew this pattern well, though it seemed to mark the end of his brief visitation. He shifted to slip from the bed, "I gotta go. Wo...well..." he trailed off, searching for a viable excuse but coming up with nil.

"Exactly." Lockhart was fully aware that this Turk was granted with an off day, and his excuse for departure was fruitless at best. "Besides, you're too drunk to go anywhere." She giggled gently at her next thought, which she spoke aloud, "Just be gone before Barret gets here to pick up the kids."

"Oh great, that's all I need. A thousand bullets in my body for trying to take advantage of Tifa Lockhart. Hopefully he'll kill me in my sleep so I don't piss my pants in terror." His sarcasm earned another small spout of laughter, which allowed him to settle back against the sheets. This time, his arms slid around the brunette beauty beside him, his embrace firm and comforting about her form. His mind trailed back to his earlier conversation with a certain fellow Turk, and found his stomach tie into knot another agonizing knot. He shouldn't be afraid of this, this closeness. He shouldn't be afraid of this feeling. For God sakes, he was a hired killer, yet it was emotion he was horrified to tackle. As ashamed as he felt, he couldn't shake the feeling.

"You know..." he began solemnly, running a fingertip or two along the course of her chocolate locks, "I think you need to...take an extra night off next week. Since, you know, the kids won't be around. Have the other girls close up for you."

He could feel her smile against his chest, "That would be nice."

Her positive agreement gave him encouragement, "Right, so you should go somewhere nice. Indulge yourself in, say, a nice restaurant for dinner...or something."

There was a long pause within the room, and try as Reno might to battle the hasty pitter-patter of his chest, there was no calming the exultant muscle from anticipation.

But she surprised him. "Only if you take me..."

There were no further words as he felt her body melt completely against his own, sleep finally taking its claim upon her. Would she remember this conversation, or would she find it to be a pleasant dream she'd awaken from? Hell, would he even remember the entire night, or let it freefall from his memory banks?

No longer feeling so drunk, but every bit as tired as the woman within his arms, he let sleep take him as well. There was some semblance of hope, some shining light in the distance that captivated him, and let him know things might work out after all.

His last thought before he was completely taken over was how he just broke his other rule by staying the night with her, and had absolutely no regrets.