el vino
final fantasy 7, elena/rude/reno aka turks 3some, R, 315 words
for godenviesme (on LJ), even though he won't like it, because I can't write juicy porn.
feedback? yes please. warnings? sex, language(?), implied slash and whatnot.
Alcohol is good for Reno, it flows through his veins and makes him feel more powerful, but not violent or aggressive. But if he were to punch somebody, his fists would hit the target now more accurately than ever. He searches for a word and the word is 'fierce', because that's how he feels like.
Alcohol is bad for Elena, it makes her feel like she's floating in the air, not touching the ground. She feels giddy and light-headed, everything keeps spin-spin-spinning and no, she definitely shouldn't have drunk so much. She could shove Reno away, when he moves closer, but he holds on to her and she's too stupid from the alcohol to do anything other than just go along with it.
Alcohol doesn't do much for Rude. Things that are usually so perfectly organized in his head start to scatter and soon it's all a lovely mess up there, his brain, but he doesn't care much. It makes him feel careless, free. Like he could do anything. Things he normally wouldn't.
So when Elena crawls onto his lap, he doesn't move her away. She's got her tongue in Reno's mouth, so Reno's close as well and Rude's watching idly until Elena's whispering silly things into his hear.
The apartment they're in (his? Reno's?) becomes unimportant, they're not attached to it anymore and Elena's kissing him now, taking off his tie while muttering things to Reno, stupid drunk things. Reno's undressing her while Rude's hands search for Reno's body.
That's not everything Rude can remember, but the rest he just doesn't want to. The next morning he wakes up with bloodshot eyes and the salty dried sweat licked off Elena's (or Reno's?) ivory skin on his tongue.
He drinks water like it's medicine and walks back to the living-room, not looking at the pile of two naked bodies, arms and legs in strange positions.
He gets a feeling but doesn't want to call it a deja vu, because that would mean it hasn't happened before. How many, he stopped counting.
How many more, he doesn't care.