That was the end of it for awhile—Reno had deigned to sleep next to him and, apparently, that irritated the Turk to no end. Compromise was something the man clearly had no patience with or desire to do, and Rufus was stinging from that bitter rejection for weeks afterwards. It was one thing to simply be told "no" and quite another to be shoved away like some kind of horrible monster…It made him wonder how many other people had shared his bed and silently believed him to be a visual nightmare, but just lacked Reno's courage to let it show. At least his Turk had never fooled him, never tried to pretend that Rufus was anything other than something to be tolerated. The only compliment he'd ever paid Rufus was to call him "pretty" and that had merely been to get Charlie to come over, not something said to Rufus's face.

It was with something like shock that Rufus realized how much time had passed since he'd started that awful game with Reno—nearly eight months, now. Eight months of being led by the cock and paying to be fooled…It was rather sick and sad that this was the longest relationship that Rufus had ever had, and it was somehow fitting that it was a business deal at that. Rufus ShinRa had been born a businessman; it was the only thing he knew. He could only wish in some secret little corner of himself that he might one day find someone who could take him as he was, scars, flaws and all…Until then, well, sufficed to say that the loneliest place in the world was at the top.

He lost himself in work, drowned himself in the rebuilding of Edge, of the world at large. He did his best to redeem the name of ShinRa and found humorous irony in the fact that he was and would be the last one this planet would see. Perhaps he could make amends in his lifetime. If not, then perhaps the world would at least think back on him with the understanding that he'd tried. It all gobbled up enough of his time that he had little to spend on his sadness. Somehow, life just wasn't as vivid without Reno's foul mouth and shocking deviancy shaking things up.

A month after that disastrous encounter, Rufus found himself at home with nothing more to do than watch television for a few hours before bed. No emergencies, no paperwork, no charity events—just him in his comfy, worn cargo pants, the scars on his chest well hidden behind a loose button-up.

Unfortunately, the television offered minimal distraction, and he found his gaze wandering to the bar and remembering that night when Reno had brought Charlie over—the night this whole mess had started.

Sighing, Rufus got up off of the couch and went to the bar, smoothing his hands over the polished wood. He saw that his housekeeper had restocked his used whiskey. Smiling a little, he pulled up one bottle and then another and put them on the bar's smooth surface.

"Well, why not?" he murmured. "I only have myself to please, after all. Right, dad?"

He thought of his portly and intolerable father and smiled—old ShinRa Senior would've blown an artery to know his son was gay and hopelessly obsessed with a certain sleazy, red-headed Turk. The idea of it was amusing, and Rufus got himself a glass and settled down to drink his problems away. It wasn't responsible and it certainly wasn't a grown-up thing to do, but he had so little comfort in his life that he could afford to be reckless in the privacy of his own home.

He didn't drink in earnest, he merely lingered over every sip, letting it warm him and chase away that knot of loneliness inside him. He'd only been at it for half an hour or so before his phone started to chirp. He shoved himself off of the stool to locate the stupidly ringing thing on the end table near the couch.

He wouldn't admit even to himself that he hoped it was Reno.

"…'Lo?"

"Sir! Are you alright?"

Tseng.

"Fine, why?" he asked, and stumbled a little on his way back to the bar, noting with consternation that his glass was empty. He tried to refill it, spilled some, and opted to just drink from the bottle. He didn't think he was drunk, but he was by no means sober anymore.

"We just received a threat, Sir," Tseng gravely told him. "I've sent the Turks out to take care of it, someone is on their way there now."

"What?" Rufus asked, irritated, not quite catching what Tseng had said outside of someone coming over. "I'm fine, Tseng, I don't need a guard."

"Sir, are you feeling well?" Tseng inquired, sounding concerned.

"I'm fine!" Rufus insisted, and took another noisy swig, wincing at the taste of it. He really needed to start keeping beer in the penthouse. "Honestly, I don't want one of the Turks hanging around here, they scare the other residents…"

"Sir," Tseng sighed, having apparently guessed what was wrong with Rufus. "There is a Turk on the way and that is the end of it. There will be a Turk until this threat is unearthed and properly disposed of. Now, sit tight and wait, Sir."

"Tseng!" Rufus said, trying to sound authoritative but managing to sound like he had as a boy when the older, solemn Turk had practically raised him. "I don't—"

There was a rattle at the door and Rufus dropped the phone standing up. He bent to scoop it up and managed to get the phone back up to his face to hear Tseng saying in something near to a panic, "Sir?! Sir?!"

"It's okay, there's just someone at the door," Rufus told him, and walked to the foyer with Tseng urging him not to open it.

Rufus was too aggravated at having his quiet evening interrupted to have any caution. He threw the many bolts and swung the door wide open to catch Reno in the process of using his keys.

"Fuck," he said, and hung up on Tseng's alarmed voice. "Wasn't there anyone else?"

"Do I look fuckin' pleased to be here?" Reno asked, as irate as Rufus was.

Rufus just left him standing there, opting to return to his bar. He didn't intentionally ignore Reno, it just worked out that way—even before, if Rufus hadn't paid attention to him the man wouldn't exactly engage him in what could be termed conversation. Only when sex was on the menu would Reno interact with him, and he wasn't here on a favor, not tonight.

Rufus left the locking and guarding of the door to Reno, who said nothing more to him. The lazy, rangy man stayed put, lighting a cigarette and waiting out the threat while Rufus returned to his drinking.

It was rather spoiled now, with Reno there. Rufus was still offended by the man's reaction to him and absently, self-consciously rubbed the tracings of the scars on his ribcage, feeling the bumpy tissue beneath his shirt. It took all the fun out of his drinking and turned into something rather more desperate and sad, pathetic, even…Like his life had become…

"Yeah, he's fine, yo, just being pissy," he heard Reno say, apparently on the phone with Tseng. There was a long pause before the man asked, "If Rude and Elena put him under then why I gotta stay, yo?"

Rufus flushed and chugged another few swallows, ashamed of himself and ashamed of what he'd done with that ruthless, heartless man who only ever wanted to be wherever Rufus wasn't.

"Yeah, alright, fine," Reno said, sounding put out. "Whatever, Tseng, I'll see you at work…Yeah, go fuck yourself, too, prick…" he laughed suddenly, teasing the man whom he truly respected, "I know, right? No problem, yo. See ya."

Rufus didn't look up when Reno neared and sat down next to him, swiveling his stool so he could lean against the wall and face Rufus, his arm draped over the stiff back of the chair he sat sideways in. Without a word, he upended a shot glass and poured himself a shot of Rufus's whiskey.

"Aren't you on duty?" Rufus asked, frowning at him and resisting the urge to just get up and leave. Reno might've embarrassed and hurt him but there was no reason to give him the satisfaction of knowing he had.

"Not particularly," Reno said, and downed it before filling it again. "Tseng wants you babysat tonight, yo. He ain't a hundred percent that you're in the clear."

Rufus noticed that Reno's blue eyes were sharp and aware, too wide-awake and alert. He'd never seen him so present before and had no idea what to make of it. When he realized he'd been staring, he looked away and took the bottle back, tipping it to his lips.

"Jesus, yo, you're hitting it hard tonight," Reno remarked, and took the bottle away from him to fill Rufus's discarded glass. "There—at least pretend you got some manners, boss."

"Asshole," Rufus muttered, but sipped at it anyway. He sipped because he was already sliding down that slippery slope towards drunk. He wasn't a recreational drinker by any means and usually disliked the feeling of not being in control of himself. Tonight it was probably the only thing that would get him through without losing it on his Turk. Maybe he should have Reno killed…

"You done sulking?" Reno asked him, leaning back and lighting yet another cigarette before downing another shot.

"You done being a prickly shithead?" Rufus inquired, sipping with a little more urgency.

"You crossed a line you don't cross with me, boss."

Rufus laughed a little and sighed, "And you cross lines with me daily that no other employee is allowed to cross…Oh irony…"

Reno was strangely silent, just watching him with those too-aware blue eyes. Finally, he murmured, "What did you want?"

Rufus cocked a brow at him, wobbling a little on his stool. He rather appreciated that the alcohol made him less aware of Reno as a threat, rendered him less intimidating and easier to deal with.

"What do you mean?"

"You said you didn't mean to pet me," Reno said, and his voice dropped into a low purr, as if they were standing in the middle of a minefield and a loud noise might spell their doom. "So…what did you want, then? You started to explain…"

"Yeah, and you turned into a dickhead and pissed off," Rufus reminded him, chuckling at his own expense. "It didn't matter to you then, so it doesn't matter now—drink up."

Reno followed the excellent advice and refilled, still watching Rufus nursing his drink.

"Maybe I'm just curious," he finally told him, and he had that look on his face like in the bar, like when he saw something he could win at, a mark to hit.

Rufus gave him a wary glare and snapped, "I don't give two shits, Reno. It's done with, the whole thing is done with…"

Reno said nothing, just watched him.

Rufus flushed, growling, "Look, Reno, would it make any difference? I'm done playing your games, okay? I'm getting out while the getting is good—I've paid off every bill you could possibly come up with, some of which were a little ridiculous, I might add. A line of credit at the bookstore, for the love of heaven! You could've paid it a thousand times over with your salary—but, I digress. In the end, it comes down to this: you are a sociopath and my Turk and that will, apparently, never change…and I am the one with all of the money, power, and fame, sleeping all by myself in a bed big enough for four."

He tipped his shot glass and sighed, hiccupping a little before woozily putting it back down on the bar.

"They never tell you what it's like," he said, speaking only to himself, the words a whisper. "Do your best, try your hardest, claw your way to the top and when it's too late to take it back you find out…you're the only one there."

"That bug you, boss?" Reno inquired, and poured him more and the last of it for himself. Before he slammed that shot, too, he opened the other bottle. Always thinking ahead, his Turks.

"Should it?" Rufus laughed, feeling ridiculous and a little stupid. Here he was with everything a man could ask for, and the only thing he wanted was the one thing he couldn't ask for. "I don't have any emotions, right? I'm cold and reserved and cruel, aren't I? I'm the son of a vicious bastard who built an empire I helped topple and I'm a monster irreparably marked so that everyone will know it. How could something like that bother something like me, Reno? You tell me."

"Someone," Reno said.

"Eh?" Rufus asked, trying to hold his glass without spilling. He brought his lips down to it instead of the glass up to him.

"Someone," Reno said again, washing back another shot. "Not something."

Rufus actually laughed at that, wiping his lips and wincing past the burn of alcohol.

"My mistake," he whispered, though he'd said what he'd meant.

They both fell silent while Reno worked diligently to get to the state of inebriation that Rufus was already headlong into. Rufus didn't mind the silence. When he was drunk he tended to make an ass out of himself and turn into an emotional pansy. Being in that state around Reno was about as safe as bleeding while locked in a cage with a very hungry wolf—anything and everything could and would be used against him without conscience or second thought.

He was almost into a comfort zone when Reno finally broke the silence and asked, "You want I should do you a favor, boss?"

Reno's eyes had lost that alert attentiveness, returning to their usual half-asleep, glittering appearance. At least Rufus now knew what caused that sleepy, lazy look to appear on his Turk's face—apparently, Reno was always drunk.

Rufus just stared at him in stupid amazement, not able to properly process what Reno was saying until he came to two conclusions: one, that Reno was actually drunk; and two, that Reno was making fun of him.

"You are something else," he slurred, laughing at the assumed joke and slumping heavily to one side, his balance off. "I've been able to get anybody I've ever wanted, Reno—but even when I had you…"

He spread his fingers wide, mimicking something flying off.

Reno smirked and tipped his head back against the wall, those gleaming blue eyes still fixed on him, somehow pleased by what Rufus had said.

"Ain't nobody got me, yo."

"'Cept Christa," Rufus reminded, and hiccupped, hanging his head.

Reno took another deep drag off of his cigarette and gave him that unfathomable, all-too-amused smile, murmuring, "Except Christa…"

Rufus realized he was sulking, but he couldn't help it. The booze made him maudlin and Reno's teasing only upset him. How could he get jealous over Reno's young lover when he had come after? He was the other person? He'd paid him, this gorgeous and frightening man. And no matter how much he ever paid him, he couldn't buy what Reno had already given utterly to someone else…

"I'm gonna hit the sack," he murmured, and slid off of his stool, holding tightly to the bar to keep from falling.

Reno laughed at him, snorting a little and crushing out his cigarette.

"Careful."

"I'm fine!" Rufus said, brows drawn, irritated that he wasn't worthy of Reno's affection, but sufficed well enough for his amusement.

Reno lifted an eyebrow and cocked his head, draining his glass in a fluid movement, watching Rufus desperately trying to gain his balance enough to walk.

Rufus took a step and paused, the room spinning.

"You need help, yo?"

"No," Rufus snapped, suddenly uncomfortable. He was afraid that it would start all over again if he gave in to even the least of the man's suggestions. Reno had manipulated him with ease into the role of paying customer, but Rufus couldn't bear to be suckered again. Reno was, unfortunately (and Rufus could only easily admit to this while drunk), much more to Rufus than just a body…he just didn't know how to tell him, and knew that Reno would never care. He was a job, he was a fattened paycheck, he was the body. Suddenly defensive, he said, "I'm not work, Reno…"

"Fuck," the man cursed, still rather amused. "You sure turn into a weepy cunt when you drink."

"At least I—" hiccup, "—have emotions, you skank!"

"Good one," Reno sniggered, insulting either the insult itself or Rufus's clever use of adjectives. Even drunk Rufus would admit that 'skank' was lame. Defeated even in this, he staggered towards his bedroom.

He had a little trouble getting down the hallway to his suite, and he knocked into the wall a few times, cursing. When he got to the bed his clothing stymied him, making him wobble dangerously and curse. Frustrated, he paused for a second to catch his breath and jumped when two long, slender white hands slipped under his arms to start unbuttoning his shirt.

"Stop it," he whispered, so tired and sick of it all. "I can't keep it up, Reno."

"They make pills for that, yo," came the lazy reply. He could feel the man's breath against his nape, Reno's head bent in concentration as he looked over Rufus's shoulder at his handiwork.

"I mean this!" Rufus hissed, angered that the man was making light of it. "I don't want to be some kind of paying customer to you!"

"You paid tonight, boss?" Reno teased, yanking that shirt from his shoulders and going to work on the tie of his pants, noting, "Keepin' it up just fine from this angle."

"I don't want prostitution," Rufus suddenly decided. "I'm not a goddamned deviant, Reno!"

"So, what d'you want, Rufus?" Reno asked, and rested his hands on Rufus's hips when he finished undoing his pants. His long fingers had slipped beneath the lip of Rufus's pants, absently curled against smooth, warm skin on one side and melted horror on the other.

Rufus couldn't put it into words. His shoulders slumped and his head dropped, his entire body drooping in defeat.

"I just…I…" he shrugged helplessly. "I can't keep doing this because when it comes down to it, I don't matter. And being with you just hammers that home. Christ, I pay for sex like some kind of homely hunchback!"

"Why do you?" Reno asked, and his hands were so warm, so welcome.

"It's you," Rufus said, and laughed harshly, moaning into his hands in mingled frustration and shame. "Because it's you…Christ, who wouldn't."

"Flattered, boss," Reno said, sounding anything but. His hands had tightened subtly on Rufus's hips, and the man knew he was probably struggling to keep from hitting him, or just walking away. In fact, he couldn't believe that Reno was still here on the heels of what pretty much amounted to an admission of caring.

Rufus dropped his hands, the booze making him feel like an emotional little girl who'd just thrown an ungodly tantrum. He definitely didn't pay Reno enough to take this kind of shit.

"I beg your pardon," he said, taking a deep breath. He'd been born a businessman, he knew better than anyone that emotions had no place in deals. "I don't know what's gotten into me but I certainly have no right to take it out on you—you're just doing your job. Please, go ahead and take off, Reno, I'll tell Tseng I made you leave."

Reno didn't let go of him, he just pushed his fingers down a little, loosening Rufus's pants.

"You don't h—"

"Easy money, yo," Reno whispered, and laughed against Rufus's neck.

"I don't want it to be business, Reno," Rufus told him, braced for the anger, for the irate reminder that nobody got to Reno, that nobody was allowed to care for him.

"You think too much," Reno said, and Rufus stood frozen in some kind of awed disbelief when those slender hands swept up his sides and back down to rest on his hips again, thumbs pressing lightly at the base of his spine in a way that lifted goosebumps on his exposed skin. A bare second later a hot, wet tongue snaked its way down his nape, forcing a low moan from his mouth.

A/N: Now we're on the countdown. This is the fifth from last chapter, so thank you to all of you who have been hanging in there, and for anyone who just picked this story up on a whim and read it through, I hope you've been enjoying!