Business As Usual
Chapter 16: Sensuality
By Miyamashi
Miya's Note: Sorry this took so horridly long to put up. This was BY FAR the longest, most backbreaking (well, figuratively) chapter so far, as well as the hardest to write, both intellectually and emotionally. I was having a lot of writer's block during this one, you know, which caused my brain to attempt numerous times to spontaneously combust. I also wanted to fling things at walls or random people at various times during my writing. Most of the Chapter is a second draft. The original was done by hand. This has a significantly larger amount of action than originally planned. The whole part with Reno's little past…endeavor came on its own. It does help to balance the lovey-dovey stuff, so that's okay.
For all of the crap I went through creating it, I hope you all enjoy it! :D
Oh, and thank you for ALL of your wonderful reviews! You guys keep me going, and faster than I would normally go.
To Rosalyn Angel: Your "Three halves" comment really made me think of Douglas Adams and his FIVE book Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy TRILOGY. XD
To Narcissistic Fruitcake: I tried to hurry! Really, I did!
To keeper: Thanks for the review. I'd like to see sometime how you interpret Rufus. I like checking out how other people see the characters! I'm sorry I put you through White Flag. Hugs
To Crimson Release: Hiya! Thanks.
To Neflathir: Oh, yes, I know NOW that Rufus is alive. I've been keeping track of the Advent Children news. But, alas, I've gone too far into writing this story to bother with compensating for the new compilation. You see, if I did that, it'd completely change the story. Like, for instance, the ending, most of which I already have planned out, and White Flag, which, all things considering, is now completely inaccurate. Also, there are characters in Before Crisis (Like Veld, who was the Turk leader before Tseng) that should be in this, but I don't know enough about them to be able to incorporate them into the story. And WHO KNOWS what Dirge of Cerberus is going to do to me? I love Square, but the decision to release a bunch of spin-offs so many years after the original is going to screw over a LOT of fanfics!
So, let's say BAU is an FF7 fic, sans spin-offs. Sorry no living Rufus, though! (As much as I would like to keep his sexy behind alive, it would completely ruin the planned emotional impact that this fic has and will have if he dies!)
To Nanaki BH: Uhhh…reading the chapter might clear up a few things…like the supposed "clones" thing, which doesn't exist… But this chapter…or at least the beginning of it…should make you VERY happy. It's all description!
To Puppet In The Corner: So, does that mean that I have converted you over to Runoism? Wink, wink. Nudge, nudge. Know what I mean? Say no more! Haha!
Tarshil: Wowza. Those were some lovely complements! Thanks so much! sniff I shall strive to make this the most "magnigicent" fanfic ever created! (Don't worry. I LOVE that typo. I think I'm going to start using that in my daily dialect.)
To Sky Redfern: Oh, believe me. I've gone this far and I have absolutely no intention of stopping now! The fic will continue! Thanks for the kind feedback!
To She Who Loves Your Story (O.O): Lookie! I updated!
To corkykiggs: Muahaha! I have converted another to the cult of Runoism! Hahaha!
Ugh. I still managed to make an insanely long intro! ARRGH!
Rufus stepped into the elevator, and his right pointer finger hovered over the numbered keypad. His left hand reached into his back pocket, from which he pulled his wallet, which contained his identification. He slipped the inexplicably important piece of plastic into the tiny card slot.
The blacked-out buttons lit up to allow him access to the lowest and highest floors.
His finger moved to lay lightly on top of the button for the deepest basement. Maybe he could catch Reno in the Turk training area? Oh, how he could use a little something from the fiery redhead to clear his foggy mind.
But, wait. Rufus made a sudden change of mind and pressed the number seven. After all, he still wasn't wearing a shirt. He wondered aloud what Hojo had shot him up with to blur his common sense so. No, not to the Turk training ground, Rufus, to your room, where you can clean up and make yourself look at least semi decent before you revolt the poor man.
As the elevator rose, Rufus' head reeled. Strange. He had never been affected by the movement before, or by the change in height. He had been exposed to these lifts since childhood. Why would he? He felt near ready to collapse. Perhaps the experiment had made him more susceptible to vertigo.
As the elevator stopped, Rufus stepped slowly out of it and leaned against the wall in hopes that his head would stop spinning. Still a little dizzy, the blonde moved to his apartment, unlocked the door, and entered. It looked the same as always, save a little bit more blurry. Comfortable, but still with an air of richness about it, those rooms were the only place that truly felt like home to him. He took the opportunity to collapse in an un-businesslike manner on the bed once he had passed through the entryway.
This was a chance to think. What was the last thing that he remembered before he had woken up in Hojo's lab? He remembered pain. He had been shot multiple times. He knew that much. He also knew that his father was the reason for that having happened. He remembered his mother, or at least traces of her that had crept into his mind. He remembered Reno, too. Something about Reno. Reno had saved him…saved him from something, but he didn't know what.
It was all a mottled blur of memories and sounds. What of it had been dream? What of it had been reality? He turned slowly to his back. Looking down at his chest, the skin was slightly marred there. So, the shots must've been real. But, the wounds were almost completely healed. How long had he been under the Professor's watchful eye and insatiable lust for knowledge? Not too terribly long, surely. Hojo looked about the same as he had when Rufus had last seen him. Plus, his own body remained in near its usual condition. If he had been under anesthesia (or just plain unconscious) for any truly long amount of time, his muscles would have at least begun to atrophy. But, no. Nothing.
He was hungry, he realized, but still too dizzy to do anything about it. For the moment, he would have to settle with mere resting.
He thought back to the last time he had been put under Hojo's "care". It had been a trying time, surely, to both his body and his mind, but nothing like this. No. He felt more tired than he ever had. It was like a thousand nights without sleep, and the feeling left of those nights beckoned him to rest. It pleaded him to slumber his life away, and dream of a reality where things like this didn't happen. It pleaded him to sleep and be numb to the world.
But the aggravated growling of his stomach begged him otherwise.
He grumbled in response, deciding that, dizzy and tired or not, he had better get up and shut the damn thing up. Then he could sleep.
Holding himself steady against the walls, Rufus stumbled slowly to his small but adequate kitchen. If only the food there had been so adequate. He had been gone long enough, he realized, for everything to have started to mold over.
If he wanted to eat, he would have to go somewhere and get food. This involved effort. That was something that Rufus Shinra, at that moment, did not particularly want to face. But, grudgingly, as crazy as it may have sounded, he listened to his stomach as if it were talking to him and he went to go get some clothing so that he could drop by the café. He pulled a pair of his usual white dress pants and a black button-down shirt from the closet and flung them on the bed, staring longingly through droopy eyes at the cushy sheets.
Looking down at his right hand, he noticed another healing shot wound. He could never be too cautious, he thought, and decided to cover the conspicuous mark. He dug the pair of cut-off leather gloves he used for gun training from a box in his closet and threw them on top of his clean clothes.
As an afterthought, he pulled a key from his wallet and slipped it into a lock on a cabinet across the room. Paranoid? Probably, but he could never be too cautious, he reminded himself again. The doors of the armoire swung open, revealing Rufus' collection of assorted weapons. From it he picked out a small twenty-two caliber pistol and a switchblade. These should be inconspicuous enough. He added them to the pile on the bed before walking to the bathroom.
As much as he didn't want to add another step to his unfortunate expedition, the Vice President of Shinra Incorporated was a very fastidious man, and he needed a shower. Plus, he couldn't go out, with a position as important as his, accompanied by a smell that was very much the opposite of fastidiousness.
It was a quick shower. He turned the water on, scrubbed off, and was out. He wrapped a towel around his waist. Water dripped onto his shoulders and the floor from his soggy hair. He turned.
It shocked the blonde to see his own face in the bathroom mirror. He looked worn, drawn, and haggard, his skin glistening with sweat and shining a sickly green-gray. But his eyes shone with a dreadful fire. Part of it was Mako. He had seen them shine like this--well, not exactly like this--once before. They seemed as drained of life and color as the rest of his visage, and they managed to remain cold despite their strange appearance of white hot stars being swallowed from the inside by black holes.
When he could finally draw his gaze from his own optical impossibility, he looked back to the rest of himself. He was more pallid than he had been just moments before. The only faint color that seemed to show upon him was the gold-copper gleam of his hair, which seemed to be fading, itself. It, nonetheless, shone brightly against the monochromatic tones of the rest of him.
And the room was the same. Color began to morph to grays, whites, and blacks. Rufus turned from the mirror. No, it wasn't a trick of the looking-glass. The hair in front of his face blended with the rest of his surroundings, all now a sundry and terrifyingly colorless picture that seemed as flat and lifeless as one of his old sketches.
The contrast between objects in the room began to fade. They began to meld together in a blur of black and white. He stumbled out into the bedroom, feeling around for the edges of objects. His fingers grasped something soft and inviting. He put on his clothes, not caring that he wasn't exactly dry or that he looked remarkably like a half-drowned and dying creature after it had been caught for too long in the swamps, using more his touch than anything to guide the fitted cloth onto his body. The weapons remained where they lay.
He scratched futilely at his eyes. This only seemed to worsen the condition. The room around him faded darker, darker, darker…
And then, he couldn't see at all.
Bursting from the room in a state of disarmed, blind panic, Rufus stumbled and swayed down the excruciatingly long hallway to the elevator. Once, he tripped over his own foot and toppled over. He had to practically climb the wall to get back up. Inside the elevator, he fought to find his footing and stabilize himself.
Card key…card key…where did he put the damn card key? To his relief, he found that he had slipped it into his back pocket out of mere habit. He felt for the card slot and forced the identification in.
It didn't work.
He tried it in the other direction. A small ding confirmed that the restricted floors were accessible. He ran his hands over the buttons in attempt to figure out which was the correct one. Ah, yes. That one, on the bottom left.
The sooner he found Reno, the better.
The elevator was completely silent. He felt it moving, but there was no other sign that it was doing so. He groaned in frustration and a bit of fear.
And though he knew he had made a sound, it wasn't there.
Slowly--as slow as the movement of the elevator itself--Rufus began to notice that his eyes and ears were not suffering alone. He realized the truth behind the old saying about not missing something until it was gone. After all, he had never noticed the slightly musky odor of the Shinra building. Not until now, when it had begun to fade. Even the aftertaste of his last meal, which had caused his stomach to writhe in pain, was disappearing.
Then, the last. There was no feeling in his body. There was no way to keep himself from collapsing--no way to even know that he did.
It was as the door was opening to the training area as he fell, and he dropped to the ground, half in and half out of the elevator.
The only sound, that of the doors opening and closing repeatedly as the blonde's body triggered the sensors that kept them from closing all the way, fell on deaf ears.
Six floors up, in the lobby of Shinra Incorporated, a Turk waited impatiently in front of the elevator. For once, he carried a gun in his coat so that he could practice shooting. He tapped his foot. It didn't come. His elevator was stuck on "B3", which was, ironically enough, his destination. He would have just given up and used the other lift, but it was rising slowly upwards from floor 45, and it would be a while before it reached his level.
The stairs looked inviting enough. It really wasn't that long to walk, plus…
Reno Kiribani opened the door to the stairwell, walking in and closing it behind him. He looked around. No cameras. No observation.
Perfect.
Because Reno could really use a cigarette. He lit one and began his descent.
The redhead couldn't place why, but he was filled with a sudden sense of dread. Something about the whole situation was suspicious. Why would the elevator have broken down on that floor? Usually, somebody would have to be there for that to happen. Either somebody had gone down earlier and had taken the stars back up, somebody was there at that exact moment, or the cable had snapped and the elevator had fallen all the way down. It was the lowest floor in the building, after all.
Reno's gut told him that the second speculation was probably correct, but he didn't know why.
He readied his gun, although it'd probably not save him if he needed it. There were only a very select few who had access to the training grounds. Among these were the other Turks, both of whom he knew the current location of. Tseng was in his office doing paperwork. Rude was out on a mission to track some girl that the science department wanted.
The others with access were all executives, and only one of them had ever come down there for as long as he could remember. But he was…
It was probably a break-in. Maybe, he thought to himself as he wished he had brought his mag-rod, the crook was a wimp and he would merely have to aim the gun in his general direction to scare him and have him apprehended.
But why would anybody pick there as a target for break-in. It was just about nothing but a shooting range, a sparring mat, a couple of empty monster cages, and some dummies used for fighting practice. What could anyone want with that?
Nevertheless, he readied his ID cautiously, aware that he was armed with only a weapon that he couldn't use to save his life, if it came to that. His access was confirmed. The door unlocked with a click.
And as it swung open, Reno's cigarette fell to the ground. The pistol followed it, and the sound of clanking and clacking metal echoed through the cavernous space. The redhead's eyes locked onto a figure lying motionless on the ground.
He walked slowly toward it, as if in a trance. It couldn't be…
But it was.
It was his Rufus.
Kneeling by the blonde, Reno felt for a pulse. He couldn't feel anything, but he never had been good at finding the right spot. In fact, he had just about as much talent for medical things like that as he had with shooting.
He pulled the bottom half of the other man from the elevator. The doors closed and the numbers on the indicator above them began to change. Reno flipped Rufus onto his back, setting the blonde's head on his lap and brushing the hair from the pallid face. Rufus' chest expanded slightly with a shallow breath, and the redhead's contracted with a sigh.
"Rufus," he whispered, "what happened to you? I thought that you were dead…" He shook the blonde slightly. "How long have you been down here? Were you looking for…me?" Reno let out a desolate, mirthless chuckle.
"Of course not."
"Rufus? Hey, c'mon…I know you're alive, so get up." He futilely tried shaking the blonde again. Rufus remained unconscious and completely limp in the Turk's hands. The redhead flushed slightly with worry, his face growing hot as his breaths grew more heavy.
Reno had no choice but to pick Rufus up, letting the comatose man's head fall and rest against his chest. He held Rufus close to him, using the little freedom of movement that he had in his right arm, on which the other man's leg's rested, to press the button for the elevator.
If this one didn't work, he would scream. After all, Rufus weighed more than he did, and he's have a hard time carrying him up the stairs.
But the lift stopped on "B3", and Reno dashed through the doors, still staring down toward the man in his arms, leaving his gun and still-burning cigarette behind. He was startled out of his reverie by the sound of a gun being armed.
"Just the men I was looking for," said a deep, hoarse voice from just inches in front of him.
Reno cursed under his breath.
"Fancy seeing you here, Sir," Reno stated sarcastically, looking up to face the President. "May I ask why you chose to come here, of all places?"
"What do you think, Turk? I'm looking for you. And you may do well to drop that contemptuous tone around me, you filthy parasite. The boy was released from Hojo's lab over a half-hour ago now, and he was neither in his office or his apartment, so I figured he would run straight to you. I see that I was right."
Reno bit down on his tongue.
"Since I knew that Tseng kept a very good eye on you, I asked him where you could be found, and he told me that you were coming down here for gun training. Are you planning something?" Shinra prodded Reno's forehead with the gun barrel, as if he were a trained circus animal. "And isn't this convenient? I could kill you right now with no resistance from the whelp. What did you do to him, Kiribani? Did the little fag scream your name before he fainted in your arms?"
If his hands had been free, Reno would have lunged at the President. Instead, he just hugged Rufus closer to him. The blonde never knew that he had saved Reno again, this time from a shot wound to the head.
"Too bad he's not awake to see this bullet shatter your skull."
"Before you kill me, I have a proposition to make."
"I'm not interested," Shinra said impassively.
"But I know that you don't want to have to deal with him. I take care of your son until he recovers, and that'll keep the both of us out of your way."
"I think that I would rather just kill you."
"But if you kill me now, like you said, he won't be able to watch my brains splattering against the wall and all of that. It just won't be as dramatic. Keeping me alive until he's recovered 'll give you a chance to make him suffer more."
"Why should I let you live until you're in a better position to fight back and he's standing behind you?"
"Because this is too easy, that's why. There's only one thing that you and Rufus have in common, and that's your lust for competition and a bit of excitement. There's no challenge now, no impact, just a gun at the head of a man and an easy opportunity for a kill."
Shinra responded by pulling the gun away from Reno's head, much to the redhead's surprise. "Don't expect me to show any mercy next time, Turk." A slightly unnerving smile crept its way onto the President's large face as he stowed his gun in his jacket and pulled out a cigar. He bit the end from it, spitting it to the ground, and lit it. The smoke drifted lazily through the air.
There was a long, uncomfortable silence as the elevator door attempted to close. The President stopped it with his foot. Reno hadn't even noticed that they had already arrived. He looked around in the new location.
"Where are we?" asked the Turk.
"Science wing. I'm not staying here. I think I may have to kill somebody after all if I have to deal with you and the madman."
"…Who?"
"Hojo, you idiot." And Shinra stepped back into the elevator, leaving Reno practically alone.
The Turk stepped up to a steel sliding door. Somehow, even it gave off an air of malice that matched that of the rest of the floor. Reno didn't know why, but he just didn't like his current location.
Since he couldn't exactly knock effectively, the redhead kicked at the door. From behind it came a grunt of annoyance that echoed through the entire level with a strange sort of shrill impetuosity. The thick steel parted with a seemingly angry hiss, revealing behind it a thin man in a lab coat who glared at Reno from behind thick spectacles and under a thin but protrusive brow line. But that glare suddenly turned itself into an eager smirk, though the malignant aura surrounding the man didn't fade. The Professor stepped out of the doorway, motioning for the redhead to carry in the prized specimen.
"You Doctor Hojo?" Reno asked bluntly, setting Rufus down on a metal examination table.
"Professor Hojo," hissed the man in the lab coat, taking off his glasses and cleaning them off with a rag from his coat pocket. "I'm no doctor. Those dirty, simple medical sciences have never appealed to me. Too low for my tastes. I regret having to even associate them with the word 'science', I'm afraid." Hojo stepped over to Rufus, picking up his clipboard so that he could take more readings. "Where's the bastard father?"
"Hell if I know. He dropped me off here and then left."
Hojo grinned sinisterly, not looking at his company. "And you are?"
"Reno Kiribani. I'm a Turk."
"Shinra, that coward. Always too spineless too do anything on his own. I swear, he has lackeys for everything."
"I…" Reno bit his lip. "So, you hate him, too."
Hojo gave Reno a blank stare, as if to say, "No, really? How ever did you guess?"
"Forget I asked. What's wrong with Rufus?" Reno inquired, the worry evident in his voice.
Hojo paused in his observations, leaning against the table and looking at the redhead.
"What?"
Hojo merely laughed and went back to taking readings.
"What?" Reno asked again, getting quickly annoyed. "And you never answered my question."
"It's nothing that won't wear off. You can rest assured that he will be back to his usual sarcastic ways soon enough. His senses were merely over-taxed. As a result, they temporarily shut down. Time is all that is needed for recovery. It's a bit disappointing, really. I was hoping for some more interesting results." That menacing grin reappeared on the scientist's face. "You should quit fretting. You'll end up with an ulcer, and then you will have to come down here for treatment."
Reno didn't want this in the least. He had heard once that higher-level SOLDIERs received Mako treatments from Hojo himself, but he didn't stay in the forces long enough to find out. From what he had heard, that only came after a couple of years of intense training. Surviving Hojo's special Mako treatments was supposedly how one got promoted to first class. Reno had only ever reached a couple of classes over grunt (twice, both times before being quickly demoted), and his treatments had come from a grumpy nurse with a pension for stabbing her patients with the needle a little bit too hard for comfort. "How long do you think it will take," he asked, partly relieved by the Professor's assurances that the blonde would be alright.
"Most likely a couple of days." Hojo walked into a back room and was gone for a while before returning with a small case.
"What's that?"
"There are five needles in here. I have filled each with vital nutrients. Give him one a day. You don't want him to die of malnutrition while he's…asleep."
"…No…" Reno scuffed his shoe into the ground.
"Now leave. I have no need for him at the moment, and you are in my way."
Reno decided that Hojo was a positively charming man, and wondered if all of those rumors he had heard about his being a babe-magnet were all that true. The redhead picked Rufus up from the table, and Hojo set the case of needles on top of the incapacitated form.
As Reno hoped, Rufus' apartment door was unlocked. Even more conveniently--albeit a bit suspiciously--the door was ajar. He set the blonde down on the bed.
Rufus looked so helpless; so innocent. It both intrigued and frightened the Turk. Rufus was a pale, fragile porcelain statue: such a beautiful piece of art, but far too easy to shatter.
Reno pulled one needle from the case. "I should have asked Hojo where to stick this," he said aloud, pulling the cover from the sharp point. "Well, whenever I get shots, I always get them in the arm…"
He held the syringe between his teeth, trying the pull up the long, fitted sleeve of Rufus' shirt, eventually having to give up and just take the man's top completely off.
A familiar wave of lust washed over him. He wanted to feel Rufus' warm lips against his own, but knew, in reality, that they were cold and bloodless. Reno tore his eyes from his sleeping lover's lean chest and palely angelic face, looking instead to the blonde's arm.
The redhead was fortunate that the near-white skin on Rufus' arm clearly showed the veins beneath, and he jabbed the needle into one, injecting its contents into the man's bloodstream.
One dose of fluid just didn't seem like nearly enough to keep him alive.
"Don't die on me now, okay?" Reno asked, knowing perfectly well that he wasn't going to get an answer. Rufus merely lay silently on the bed, his breathing surprisingly fast, all things considered.
"If you could see the way I'm melting over you now, you'd probably laugh in my face…" Reno sighed, letting the strange truth of the situation sink in. "You know, I like it when you laugh, Rufus. I don't think enough people get to hear you do it. In fact…am I the only one?" The Turk felt his cheeks getting hot with embarrassment, although the only reason for him to be the slightest bit humiliated couldn't hear a damn word he was saying. "I don't mean that laugh you do when you think something's ironic, either. I mean the real one, even if it is usually aimed at me."
"Yeah, you'd definitely laugh if you could see me now. Can you believe how emotional I'm getting? I actually wish you were awake to see this, although you'd never let me live with it."
Reno brushed a couple of strands of blonde hair from Rufus' cheeks. He bent down and brushed his lips over the other man's. They were chill. Reno didn't particularly care. "Wake up soon, Rufus, so we can laugh together."
Reno picked his head up from the edge of the bed where he had fallen asleep hours before and looked down at Rufus, who hadn't moved since he had. He ran his fingers lightly over Rufus' right arm, and he subconsciously knew that he was asserting his possession.
Rufus was his, and not anybody else's. He doubted whether Rufus was even his own.
Reno's hand stopped as he noticed a slight twinge of movement on the blonde's face. Then, came a twitch of the fingers.
And Rufus' hand was clasped around his own, the Vice President's eyes suddenly open wide and staring, horrified at the ceiling.
The thin fingers clamped down mercilessly on Reno's right hand, digging into it and drawing blood. The redhead pulled away, breaking free from the panicked grasp.
Rufus groped toward him, staring slightly in the wrong direction, although his finger tips scraped over the redhead's shirt and chest, and the nails drew thin, pink scratches down his skin.
"Rufus! Hey, calm down…it's just me!"
But the assault didn't stop, and Reno backed up quickly in retreat from the ceaselessly grasping hands and the wide, eerily glowing eyes.
Mako.
Rufus tried to prop himself up, but his arms gave out from under him and he collapsed back onto the bed, curling into a small, fetal ball and tearing violently into the sheets. Reno watched in stunned, fascinated terror from against one wall of Rufus' apartment bedroom until the blonde began to try to tear into himself--to gouge out his own eyes with those sharp nails--, screaming fitfully like a deranged man.
Reno grabbed his hands, leaning over him and pinning them to the bed. Rufus struggled to free himself, his eyes darting from place to irrelevant place around the room, his breaths coming in short, sporadic gasps.
"Rufus, calm down!" Reno yelled, but the blonde couldn't hear him. He didn't want to do it, but it made Rufus stop:
Reno punched him in the face, just hard enough to send one small stream of blood running down his chin from the corner of his mouth.
The blonde stared silently off to the side as his body relaxed. His tongue followed the blood as far down his chin as it could, and his breathing became slightly less erratic, though it still came in quick, panicked intervals.
Reno let one hand go warily, and Rufus didn't attack. The Turk picked the hand up gently and brought it to his face.
A thin finger ran over a scar from which crimson tears had once flowed, and the blonde's breathing slowed further. The ice-eyes closed slowly and the lips formed "Reno", a sound coming from them that remotely resembled the name. This confirmed Reno's earlier suspicions. Rufus was acting as if he couldn't tell what sound he was actually making. No, Rufus wasn't acting at all. Rufus couldn't hear Reno or himself.
Reno's hand cupped over the blonde's jaw, which had begun to turn a sickly green-purple with bruising. He flinched, but was complacent.
Two pairs of lips met as the redhead leaned down and pale arms circled his shoulders. He sat down on the edge of the soft bed.
The kiss ended far too soon for Reno's liking. Rufus' eyes reopened and stared blindly upward, the pupils quivering slightly in despair. The blonde raised himself slowly, using Reno as support, before going limp in the redhead's grasp, his face sinking into the nape of his lover's neck.
Reno did his best to comfort him. "Rufus," he whispered, forgetting for a moment that the name would fall on deaf ears. The breath on the Vice President's neck nonetheless managed to provide him with a small amount of consolation. The thin, bare chest rose and fell just a little more slowly and the heart within it slowed to match.
Reno, feeling this, whispered the blonde's name again, so softly even he himself had trouble hearing it. And again and again, but silently, just the airy puffs dancing over the warm skin next to the redhead's lips.
It was a long time, though how long it was difficult to tell, before the blonde stirred.
One last time, Reno mouthed the name, and the sound of it issued from his lips in an almost breathless stupor.
"Reno?" Rufus asked, pulling back slightly.
"Can you…?"
"I can hear you now, yes, but…so quiet…" the blonde whispered so that the redhead had to lean in very close to catch it. "I can feel you, too…but that's all."
"Rufus…I…"
"I wish I could see you…smell you…taste you on my breath…" His muscles tightened, then relaxed, and his body arched back into Reno's grasp as he breathed slowly and shakily, staring sadly at nowhere in particular. "I want you to come back to me."
Reno didn't quite understand what Rufus had meant by that, but he understood the plea in those last eight words, and he leaned forward over the bed, resting Rufus on the mattress and laying his head on the thin, pale chest, his flame-red hair fanning out over the skin like a wildfire.
"Don't leave. I need to feel you."
"I won't. I couldn't leave if I tried."
The hands on Reno's back went slack and fell against the expensive sheets. The eyes closed, and all was silent and still.
The body of the Turk convulsed violently with soundless sobs, though the breaths of the Vice President rustled the red hair, causing the flames to dance over his flesh.
Rufus' dreams were fevered, and the limits of his physical body manifested themselves in them. There was nothing, save for a jumble of sounds and pain.
He could actually feel it.
Again, that mass of screams and screeches haunted him, but this time he felt as if thousands upon thousands of pairs of groping, snatching hands accompanied them, trying to pull him even farther into the darkness.
He tried to scream, but they were smothering him.
Reno sat up with a start. The body under his was flinching wildly. Rufus' head was turning quickly from side to side, his mouth opening and closing silently in what seemed to be a wordless plea for help.
"Damn it…" Reno hissed, staring down at the blonde. He yelled the other man's name, shaking him and trying to wake.
This only made it worse.
It hurt to watch it and to not know what to do about it. He had to make him stop, but how? He cupped his hands over the blonde's cheeks, holding the head still. The body struggled against him, trying to grab his hands and pull them away.
"Stop…stop! Get away from me!" Rufus yelled, and Reno had to cover his mouth so he wouldn't attract attention.
Reno laid down fully on top of Rufus and held his arms down, burying his own face in the nape of the blonde's neck. The way Rufus struggled pitifully and helplessly against him, trying to scream and trying to bite a chunk out of the Turk's hand, it felt like rape.
And when Rufus finally did manage to grasp Reno's hand with his teeth, the redhead recoiled with an angry yell and had to stop himself from reflexively breaking the other man's jaw.
The Vice President seemed so innocent, so defenseless, so beautiful, his skin colorless beneath the blood that shone so brightly crimson across it, his hair spread out chaotically like tattered silk over the equally elegant sheets…
Reno wanted to take him, even as his fist hovered inches above the bloody lips.
Rufus was drowning. He was suffocating under the weight of those thousand gasping hands. Was this death? Was this his payment for all that he had done?
Oh, how he wanted to join the screams, but those hands were choking him. Nearly defenseless, Rufus did the only thing he could do at that moment: he bit down hard on the fingers covering his mouth. Some of the weight was suddenly lifted.
Reno fought hard against it, but he couldn't resist…just one little kiss…
His mouth was covered once more, but this time it felt as if his soul might be torn from him.
Lust was too powerful a force. There was no use fighting it any longer. He ran his nails down the pale chest…
Powerless to fight back, Rufus felt himself sinking into the darkness.
The victim was going limp. He would have his prize.
"…No…"
This wasn't death. No, death was the green eyes staring into his, though they were nothing but a memory.
"…what am I doing?"
Fall into the darkness. Even that was better than…
"Look at me!" Reno's eyes pleaded toward the other man.
Reno began to panic. What had he been doing? What had gotten into him?
Rufus, just by being there, was driving him insane. Worse yet, the redhead wanted nothing more than to be consumed in that insanity.
Consumed in the darkness…
He wanted Rufus to consume him.
…Drowned in a frigid void…
He wanted to feel that wonderful heat against his own bare flesh again…
…Lost. Merged with nothingness…
…Filled to the brim with his overwhelming ecstasy…
…Empty. Soulless…
His body was possessed, just as it had been when…
…No…no…not that…
"But you enjoyed it, didn't you Kiribani?" Mocked Reno's memory.
"No," replied Reno.
"I could see it. Don't lie to me, Kiribani. That's how you got yourself into this. Do you understand?" Pulitz hissed, grabbing Reno by the hair and pulling him inches away from his own nose. "You enjoyed hearing her scream as much as I did, didn't you?"
"Yes, sir."
"Leave me alone and just let me die!" Rufus yelled, bringing Reno back to his senses.
Those had been her exact words.
"Do you think that's gonna stop me? Who do you think I am?"
"Get off of me, you monster!"
"That's it, Kiribani…show the poor wench who you are…"
The adrenaline rushed through Reno's veins and his heart pumped loud enough to hear.
"I want to hear you scream…"
A familiar, musky odor filled Rufus' nostrils. No, he definitely wasn't dead, but what was this?
He heard a voice past the yells. Like it had once before, the voice of Reno Kiribani rang out above the others.
But how sinister it had become…
"Reno, where am I?"
The sound of his name seemed to bring him back a little. The redhead stopped, his face softening and his mouth hanging wide open. Rufus' eyes were open again, still staring absently upward.
This was not some nameless, insignificant woman in a dark back alley. This was Rufus Shinra, his boss and lover, whom he'd sworn to himself that he'd protect with his very life, for his job and for otherwise.
This was Rufus Shinra, who had almost become his second rape victim.
"You're in your room, here with me," Reno said. He would have added "safe", had he thought it were true.
"Why are they screaming, Reno? Is it me?"
"No, I…" The Turk stopped. There were no screams, but how could Rufus know?
"Make them stop, Reno," Rufus shouted, as if reverting back to his childhood. "Make them shut up. Make them let me go!" The blonde struggled under Reno's weight. Though he could have normally thrown him off easily, Reno seemed twice as heavy when Rufus' mind turned him into a thousand hands.
"Don't fight me, Rufus. There's nobody else here but you and me. I need you to be calm. If you're calm, you'll be okay," said the redhead, as if trying to assure himself.
"But I have to fight them. Help me, Reno…"
"There's nobody to fight but me."
"But I can feel them, Reno…"
The Turk got up off of the bed and backed off. The hands stopped and disappeared. And, with the hands gone, the screaming did the same.
"What happened?" asked Rufus quietly. "Where did they…?"
"It was all just me, Rufus. You were having some sort of freaky dream or something."
Rufus relaxed and smiled contentedly, sighing lightly into the air. "You always seem to pull me through." The blonde let out a small chuckle. "Come back and lay with me. I think I'll take the risk of having another episode."
"I can't do that."
"Why not, Reno? Take it as an order from your superior if you won't take it as your lover's request."
"I just can't."
"I thought you said that you wouldn't leave me."
"I guess I lied."
Rufus frowned, his brows knitting together.
"Listen, Rufus. I can't expect you to understand. It's just that I lost control before, and I don't want that to happen again."
"I don't care what happened, I need you here with me now."
"Rufus, I tried to rape you earlier."
Much to Reno's surprise, the redhead smirked. "Am I that sexy?"
"I'm serious, Rufus."
"You didn't try to rape me."
"You were unconscious and I know what I was doing."
"And if I had been awake at the time?"
"I don't know."
"You can't rape a willing subject."
"You were struggling against…"
"I was struggling against whatever Hojo's twisted fucking experiment did to me. I wasn't struggling against you."
Rufus stretched his arms out to the side. His body arched upward for a moment before sinking back down upon the bed.
"Reno, this body is nothing to be but a vessel and a source of weakness. Take it for your own. Do what you will with it. That's the only time it's ever good for anything. Rape me, if that is what you want to call it. I like it better that way."
Reno stood stock-still, gaping slightly.
"I know that it is what you want. Would you prefer it if I struggled; if I fought back? Anything. You can have your darkest, most twisted sick little fantasies. I give myself to you."
"What if…?"
"Don't even speak. Just take it."
Reno took two steps forward. His legs touched the edge of the bed.
"If you're having doubts, then kiss me. Feel it. See that I want you to take this from me. Hear me moan into your mouth. Let it be music to your ears. Just don't hold back."
Reno moved in for the kill, striking Rufus' lips with his own like a predator to his prey. He grabbed the blonde by the hair, pulling his head back to expose his throat. Rufus' body shuddered as Reno ran his tongue across the sensitive skin. The Vice President grabbed his captor by the shirt and dragged him up onto the bed. The fact that Reno showed no resistance made it an easy task.
Reno sat, straddling Rufus' hips. The blonde struggled under him, which sent a wave of heat through the Turk's body.
This was freedom as Reno had never felt it before. Rufus had given him free reign. Every time prior, no matter who it was with, he either had to take it by force or settle with something less. Even with Rufus, he had been forced to hold back in the past.
The blonde's back arched, pushing their hips together.
"You don't have to fight. It's easier if you relax," Reno whispered.
Rufus complied.
"That's it. Just like that." The redhead's heart beat fast with his excitement. He ran his hands down Rufus' chest, and could feel that the pounding within it matched his own.
Rufus let his other senses take over where his eyesight left off. He let himself enjoy the taste the other man left on his tongue when they kissed. He took in the strong scent that spoke of cigarettes, scotch, blood, and something he could never quite place that invariably made him think of sex. He listened to the quick, heavy breathing that puffed against his skin in hot bursts.
Most of all, he felt the electricity that Reno always carried with him in his very veins--that same energy that had inspired the blonde to suggest the electro-mag rod as a weapon--that had begun to flow into him from that thin and powerful body in the form of sheer, unbridled passion.
Reno fumbled clumsily with the buckle of Rufus' belt. The Vice President slipped his fingers under Reno's hands and undid it with one swift movement. The clank of the metal buckle as Reno flung it to the floor cut through the near-silence that hung like a sheet over them.
"I want you," Reno whispered in a plea for reassurance that what he was doing was right.
"You have me."
"Give me more."
"Take it all."
"Everything."
"Yes."
"That's what I wanted to hear."
"I know. Now just shut up and take it."
"Yes, Sir."
If at all possible, Reno's heart raced faster as he fumbled with Rufus' pants much as he had with the belt shortly before.
"You do realize that the belt was there for a reason, right?" teased Rufus, the dry sarcasm evident in his voice.
"Eh? Reno asked all too quickly, sopping and flushing slightly. His fingers twitched above the button on the white dress pants.
"I don't keep that thing on for show. It's there to keep my pants from falling down around my ankles. That is what belts are normally used for, right, or am I some sort of freak?"
"For wanting me to shut up so bad, you sure do talk a lot."
"I'm a walking contradiction, remember? You can't expect me to always follow my own rules."
Reno silenced him with a long, hungry kiss. Rufus had to admit that what Reno lacked in skill, he made up for with zeal.
The blonde didn't let him do it for sheer lust. He didn't let him do it for love. What was love, anyway? That was something the blonde could never understand.
After all, he had originally gotten a very twisted interpretation of the word. He thought back to when he was learning how to read. Like any child's picture book, this one was optimistic. It told him that "love" was "what your parents feel for each other", with a picture of a happy husband and wife, so unlike his Mother and Father.
Needless to say, love was never something that Rufus Shinra had particularly looked forward to.
But if not for love or lust, then why?
Maybe it was just that sex was all he really knew of living; sex, and pain. The former just happened to be a hell of a lot more enjoyable.
So, this was a new kind of freedom to him, too. Hadn't he once said to Reno that suffering was his only affirmation of life? Now, that wasn't true. Now, he had a choice.
Strange, he thought, how only his damned father and this rugged shell of a man could make him feel anything. Strange, and a little sad.
Reno, on the other hand, didn't seem to be putting as much thought into the act as Rufus was. He just seemed to move in frantic, ecstatic pulses, letting his mind shut down and his body work on its own.
Oh, what Rufus would give for it to be that simple. He envied Reno so for his simplicity. He thought back to the redhead's musky odor. It spoke so truly of what he saw in the personality of the man who carried it. Smoke. Drink. Do your job. Make out with somebody. This seemed to be Reno to a tee.
But what Rufus couldn't see was that what made Reno so frenzied in his fervor was the very same thing that made him fear it. He kept thinking back to the rape of that poor, young woman. She had been a member of his brigade. She was younger than he was; more petit, very pretty. It was Reno who had set his eyes on her.
He had been Pulitz's favorite at one point. That fact, ironically enough, changed that same night when the officer found him in remorse for what he had done.
Reno had just gotten into SOLDIER, as it were. He was only sixteen and very naïve. He had asked the girl out once, and she had refused him. He brushed it off, content with watching her from afar, until…
"Kiribani, I've seen the way you look at that girl. How would you like to have more than a glance? I can change that."
"What are you talking about, Gerome?"
Pulitz took her to the bar; bought her a few drinks. He got her a little tipsy, then took her outside, where Reno had been waiting.
The girl looked confusedly between the two redheads before asking, pleadingly, to Pulitz, "What is he doing here? You said you were taking me somewhere where we could be alone. You never said anything about him!"
"I get her first, Kiribani," said Pulitz, ignoring the woman's plea, "then you can do whatever you want with her."
"That wasn't in the bargain, Gerome."
"Bargain? Bargain? There was no bargain about this, Kiribani. I'm doing you a favor, and you're talking to me about a bargain?" Reno shivered as he recalled it. Even now, the cold bite of Pulitz's drawling, ever calm voice cut through his memory.
"I'm leaving. You people are insane," screeched the girl. Funny, Reno thought to himself, how he couldn't remember her name, like he'd made himself forget so that the visions of her screaming hysterically under him didn't seem so appalling. After all, she was meaningless without a name. Just a pretty face.
"You're not going anywhere. Your use hasn't run dry yet," drawled Pulitz coolly, grabbing her arm tightly. "And don't even try to cry out. I won't think twice about breaking your lovely jaw." He shoved her against the wall, cupping one hand over her mouth to keep her from crying out.
Reno turned his head away disgustedly as Pulitz had his way with her. It wasn't of disgust at the act--no, he was too hardened by his desires for that--it was more like the kind of sickening feeling one gets when he realizes he's the one getting the dirty leftovers.
When he turned back, it was because of a hard grip on his shoulder.
"I've had my full, said Pulitz, lighting a cigarette and pushing the girl toward the young SOLDIER. "Now you take the scraps."
Acting as much the part of the mutt as Pulitz made him out to be, Reno grabbed the girl roughly from Pulitz's lack grasp and flung her naked body to the asphalt.
The taste that Rufus suddenly left in his mouth was bitter: a harsh reminder of the bile he had been forced to choke back that night as he realized what he had done…that night, hours after he had ravished the young body of his co-worker and left her, a gash across her throat, in the light of a street lamp on the cold alleyway pavement.
Rufus sank back against his pillow, his eyes wide and blank as hers had been, fresh blood dripping onto his prone throat from the aggravated cut on his lip.
The redhead ran his tongue over the tender throat once more, taking in the metallic taste and scent of the warm liquid there. Rufus shivered under him, the blonde's thin fingers tracing over his Reno's shoulder blades.
"You like it, don't you, having absolute power?" Pulitz's own words mocking him from the grave of his lover's lips.
Reno had a twisted image of things that had never been, but, nonetheless, felt so appallingly real. A thin, lanky, and scarred body moved beneath him. Red hair, even more bloodlike than his own, spread in an arc across the pillowcase in place of spun copper-gold.
Reno's body convulsed as he held back a sickening retch.
"What's wrong?" asked Rufus quickly, broken from his stupor of sensuality, his hands clasped tightly in strands of scarlet.
Reno stayed silent for a moment as he swallowed down the bitter, acidic mixture that lingered in the back of his throat. "Turn over," was his eventual reply. "I'm not done with you yet."
Miya's Note: Oh, yay! It's done! I've finally finished Chapter 16. I seriously hope I never have that much trouble with a chapter again.
Sorry to all of the Reno fans. I know you probably hate me right about now for making him a rapist, but you all needed a not-so-gentle reminder that THESE ARE NOT NICE PEOPLE.
Probably the creepiest thing about it is that I'm sure you'll forgive him for it, if you haven't already, just like Rufus was forgiven after the murder of Leiza. It's so fun to write such loveably appalling characters.