insusurro | IM ON A BOAT MUTHAFUCKA DONT YOU EER FORGET

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IM ON A BOAT MUTHAFUCKA DONT YOU EER FORGET

[ FIRST ORDER OF BUSINESS: look up some old friends. This is a weird and wild new world and even if Zack isn't certain what his place in the grand scheme of things is supposed to be (except NOT DEAD, RENO), well, friends are the perfect place to start! They're the only home he's ever needed anyway. Fuck off with your Shinra shit, he's going through old Tinder matches and on-the-lam connects, reacquainting and reuniting, and it's just such a grand old affair. What a time to be alive. (Reno.)

And then he remembers these girls. Fires off a text, and wouldn't you know it? They're hosting a yacht party and asking if he can bring some cute friends. And can he. Time to dash out a mass text to all 104 friends he has in this world:

ayyyyyy yacht party! get here quick, were goin to costa!! 🌞🍸👙
🌐 Tap here to view Zack Fair's location

The yacht picks them up in Greater Midgar and there are plenty of babes and beverages to go around for the (too-short, wtf) ride over to Costa del Sol. But once they're there, it's all rum runners and bikinis and cookouts, motherfucker. The yacht will remain docked close-by, just in case you need to puke your guts out in the loo or make good use of the lush cabin space, but c'mon. Almost all of you are pale as fuck get some Vitamin D from somewhere other than Rufus, you cocksuckers.

Anyway. Enjoy! ]

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[That part was true! He wasn't trying to remind Reno about that night, and honestly, he wasn't really aware that Reno even remembered it since they A) hadn't spoken about it, and B) Reno was probably there drinking after he left. The chances that it was a clear memory was slight, he thought.

It's not that he has a clear mind while he was doing all of this, but at the very least he's not thinking about lifting Reno onto that table in the bar and trying to dryhump the life out of his partner. He's very okay with this very specific form of denial. Everything was fine. Reno wasn't leaning back closer against him, and he didn't feel his nipples more prominently each time his hands passed over that part of Reno's chest. It's all in his imagination.]

Swimming is like walking, just with no gravity. So, I could probably swim better drunk than walk. In theory.

[He's not testing that out. Trusting himself around Reno while shitfaced is just a feverdream now that he lived the reality. Rude wasn't as restrained as he thought he could be in that state. Fuck, when did his fingertips accidentally slide into the top of Reno's swimwear (what do you even call what he's wearing?? it's barely anything at all)]

It sounds like you're getting ready to challenge me again.

[ The back of his head lays against Rude's shoulder, peering up and getting mostly an eyeful of that stunning jawline he's got. The side of his face, that serious expression. So focused, so... handsome. God damn it, Reno! Look away!!! He plays it off so easily, nose crinkling, teasing and then laughing and then pretending he's just fixing his hair, flicking his ponytail out of the way again. Yeah, he's a great actor, but you know what he can't fake? His body's natural reaction to this kind of... stimulation. He's flushed from throat to belly, and there's absolutely no way that flimsy slut-version of a speedo is going to do anything to hide certain other problems he's having, and anyone else watching this from the outside would take one look at all this and not only be like "dudes get a room" but also that smile isn't fooling anyone. He's got it so bad. ]

Am I crazy enough to challenge you to shit I know I won't win? Mm... yeah. Yeah, I am. Hell yes, let's do it.

[ Like. In a minute though. He still needs more sunscreen dammit. Like maybe a second layer. Or a third layer. Or like just don't stop doing any of what you're doing, pal. ]

[When Reno is this close things get a little touch and go. He can smell his skin, and his hair. It's a little different than the shampoo he usually uses, but Rude tries to stay focused and keep his hands from straying too far from the path of righteousness. Unfortunately he's not religious, and nothing about how he pretends to lose track of himself so his fingers accidentally stumble lower to graze parts he has no business grazing.

If this was anyone else he would turn himself in to face jail time with how creepy this was. Then the guilt starts to trickle in, but stops almost immediately when he sees that there might be a little bit of tenting in that pitiful excuse for a speedo. Oh.]

You want to race me? Right now? Like this?

[Rude pulls his hands and grabs Tseng's towel (he wouldn't need it) to drape over Reno's shame. It's the least he can do for getting carried away. Reno is always himself, it's only when Rude loses track of himself that this sort of thing happens. He's the one to blame.]

You should have told me to stop. [Oh no, he's victim blaming, now. When did he turn into this person? Why doesn't he want to take his hands off of Reno's thighs under the towel? It only makes things look more suspicious.]

[ He... yeah, probably should've made a comment awhile back. Like somewhere around the firm, nice hands applying sunscreen directly to his nipples, time... would have been good. Reno pretends to be totally clueless when Rude catches on, like he couldn't fucking feel it or something? Yeah, right. Come on, man. There's being a good actor and then there's overselling it. And this isn't even overselling it, it's just—being fucking obtuse. Even more obtuse than he pretended to be at the bar. And he doesn't even have the drunk excuse anymore! ]

Uh, whoops-?

[ Yeah right, as if that's all he has to say for himself. Reno smiles sheepishly, even laughs, but damned if he doesn't make any move to pull away. There's one reason for that exactly: because Rude's hands are still on his thighs under that towel, and all his nerves are firing on all cylinders where their skin still touches. Anyone passing by could figure it out with a second glance, but if you don't make it too obvious, most folks are too wrapped up in their own business to pay attention to this sort of thing, so really—

Reno, stop. Reno, don't stop.

He shoots for somewhere down the middle of overt fucking asking for it and plausible deniability, knowing it's a whole load of shit and if Rude can't see through it then they're both screwed. They might be either way, but. Y'know. ]

I was into it, what can I say? You dunno your own strength!

[ YEAH TURN IT BACK ON HIM ]

[Whoops? That was it?

Rude wanted to jump out of his skin, collect all his organs, and run off into the sunset never to be seen or heard from again. Actually leaving the situation (that he started himself!) would have been more complicated, so he only sees one viable way forward.

If Reno wasn't going to redirect him or push him away, the path with the least resistance would probably be the most sensible thing to do. Which, when he thinks about it, might be the singularly worst idea he's ever had. The best plan of action from here was to jerk his partner off in a semi-public area, with nothing for cover other than a colorful beach towel.]

You're clearly still into it. Try to be less into it.

[Even as he says that he's resigned himself to fixing the situation. Acting like it was some sort of burden for him to slips his fingers under that skimpy bit of fabric to take Reno's dick in hand was the only cover he had against Reno figuring him out. He doesn't care if he knows that Rude finds him attractive, it's the emotional component that complicates things--so he'll just selectively ignore that.]

Don't blame me because you have no self control. [He doesn't know that this sort of defense even holds water when he's slowly working his closed fingers over Reno's cock. The quicker he finished him, the sooner he could eject himself from this existence. Still... on the other hand he did want to take his time for more selfish reasons.]

[ Oh, fuck. Okay. Is this still part of the gay chicken thing? Or whatever you call the game they play, the one that really isn't a fucking game and deserves more reverence than it's probably getting, but then again, life's a game, so fuck it, right? Man, he really shouldn't be thinking fuck it about anything involving Rude. There's no alcohol to blame it on, and he'll be god damned if he's going to pin it on what happened the other night, either. (The other thing that happened. You know.) Whatever it is, he can't stop it. That's what he tells himself. Whoops. Too late now, oh well. ]

I can do that.

[ He sure can. Even if it takes even more effort than he thinks it should to contain himself, he does his absolute best not to react. Looks straight ahead, bites his lip and then lets it go, takes as steady a breath through his nose as he can. It's hard. Really hard. Like, his dick and also this force of effort, leaning as casually as he can manage back into Rude's chest and looking the picture of relaxed, his hands resting placidly at his sides, fingers lightly curled.

On the inside, he's fucking screaming. All he wants to do is arch into Rude's touch, tell him what he wants and how much he wants it, fall completely apart in his hand. But instead he's chillin, keeping his breaths even, sitting still. Under that towel, though, his dick twitches in Rude's hand, and his heart's pounding so hard his whole body feels like it's throbbing. ]

But I'm blamin' you. You're not getting out of it that easily.

[Gay chicken ended the second Rude got his fingers around Reno's junk. He's not afraid to touch his partner's dick, but he's soundly terrified of what it might mean if he thinks about it too hard. Which doesn't include the complications of his feelings. Purely on a professional level it was terribly unacceptable, but there he was.

Maybe if he keeps acting as though he's pissed off to be doing it, they can write all of this off like the did with the dancing as weird quirky situations the two of them got into. It wasn't weird, and wouldn't ruin their relationship as partners. This was just the two of them being random, and entirely too close, and Reno's hair still smelled so nice. Fuck.]

Don't pull that on me. I did this with the purest of intentions. [A lie.] None of this is on me. [Another lie.]

[It's scary how comfortable something like this feels. Even with the risk of someone seeing them, Rude isn't concerned. Every time he feels Reno's cock move in his hand, his own feels like it's trying to punch its way through his swim trunks just to poke Reno in the ass. He sighs, right against the redhead's neck, rubbing his thumb over the head to smear the moisture around, focusing his strokes toward the tip.

No games. He's just going to make him come, and wash his hands of this so they can pretend it never happened. Reno might forget. Rude would be pleasantly haunted by every moment of this when he replays it in his head before bed and during early morning showers.]

Bullshit.

[ There's a certain amount of breathlessness to the way Reno says that that just kind of fucks up the whole vibe of what he was going for. It was supposed to sound sarcastic and unaffected, now it just sounds like he's accusing Rude of something while he's getting his dick stroked. In his defense, he guesses, it is kind of hard to sound like you're bored when someone's jerking you off under a towel in public, regardless of who it is, but. Still. Damn it. Goosebumps raise all over his body when he feels Rude's breath on his neck, and he purses his lips together for a few seconds when it starts to feel like he's not going to be able to keep from making a sound.

That moment passes, but also... doesn't, because Rude clearly isn't fucking around. He's going for it and the more he's worked over the more difficult it is for Reno to remain calm. He can only survive it if he fully disengages his brain, the way he has to when he's under extreme physical duress but won't let himself be pressed for information. Tap into that part of him that doesn't think or feel, only carries out his job. The cold and ruthless part that can kill a guy's wife in front of her husband and kids as a threat from the Turks and feel absolutely nothing about it. It's just business.

But it's not just business. Reno finds Rude's free hand and encircles his wrist, grasping at it. Tight at first, then more loosely when he thinks he can doesn't need the lifeline as much. Nope, he's cool. Not gonna lose his shit. Just to prove how much he's not going to lose his shit, he presses his fingertips into Rude's palm and slots their fingers together, holding his hand the gay way like it ain't no thing. ]

Ain't nothin' about you that's pure, partner.

[Rude might not be able to tell exactly what's going on in Reno's head at the moment, but he knows his partner well enough to see that he's into it. Even without being able to see his face, he can feel and hear the way his body and breathing respond to it, so regardless of what he wants to say officially, unofficially Rude knows he has him in the palm of his hand.

The grip to his wrist catches him unprepared. He hadn't been expecting any more contact than they had, but aside from the instinctive pause in his movements for a couple seconds, he doesn't try to shake Reno's hand off. In fact he turns his own to meet Reno's halfway when their fingers lace together. It makes him want to turn the other Turk around to watch his face as he jerks him off, kiss his lips while he makes him come. None of which he will actually do because he's more afraid of the outcome of that than Tseng walking up on them or something.]

Maybe not, but I'm closer than you.

[Only because Rude's taste in women was treasonous and his taste in men was his partner. Otherwise he was likely to be just as bad as Reno was. Rude was just very specific in what he liked, and most times he'd rather go without than have to deal with settling.]

What if I just left you like this?

[With enough precum that there's a comfortable amount of slip, he touches Reno like he'd touch himself at home if he was just trying to get things done in a hurry so he can get to work on time, but then, without warning he stops, pulling his hand away entirely. Well, almost entirely. He's still running his hands over the inside and underside of one of Reno's thighs.]

[ Oh, no. That's not cool. Here Reno is strapping the fuck in to try and figure out how he's going to get off without coming to pieces and making a total public scene, and then that happens. Right away, Reno's composure goes out the window. He breaks out in a sweat, gasping under his breath, and squeezes the everliving fuck out of Rude's hand, crushing their fingers together. This time he really can't help but squirm, pressing himself back insistently against Rude's chest, swallowing, struggling. If Rude had just pulled away entirely he'd find some way to live through it, probably in the form of tying that towel around his waist and beating a hasty retreat to the nearest bathroom to whack off like his life depend on it, but the fact that he stays there teasing him and taunting him... that's wretched. ]

Fuuuuucckkkk youuuu.

[ That's all he's really got to say about it for a sec there because on the one hand, he's not about to break over this, are you kidding? He prides himself on not giving anyone power over him that he can't wrest back if he really wants to. Not that he ever bothers, but the point is that he could. But if he cracks now, Rude's got him like a rat. Physically, and probably mentally, too. Because the other problem is that he doesn't know how to get what he wants without it coming out way more sincere than he wants it to be. You can't casually and unaffectedly beg your partner to jack you off. You just, like. Can't.

In the end, he can only find one totally normal and not even worse than just asking way to get around it. His voice comes out little more than a hissed whisper, his grasp loosening only marginally on Rude's hand. ]

What if you don't do that, then I blow you in a cabana of your choosing and we call it even?

[ this is clearly his only recourse here. Reno's hips shift. ]

Your dick's jabbing me in the back.

Just to make sure Reno doesn't escape him, he puts his other arm around him. Any man tortured this way is likely to become a flight risk. The two of them cuddled up like a real couple is sure to draw stares at some point, and sure to be dismissed because Reno was Reno and why wouldn't he be fucking his partner? Rude doesn't really care how it looks.

He's not really a sadistic person, well, not when it came to people he cared about, but there was something about making Reno suffer in a way that he couldn't stand that sort of made up for that whirlwind of emotions he'd gone through when he was told that his partner had died only to see him show up at the office the very next morning.

Rude hadn't the words to express any of the things he felt after having trashed his apartment after the news. Of course he didn't wish Reno had stayed dead, but he did wish he was less casual about showing up like what he went through was for nothing. It wasn't Reno's fault he was killed (maybe), but he definitely could have tried to be less dismissive of Rude's feelings about it. Rather than have that argument out at work he left for the day without saying anything.

"No."

Was this over-the-top? Yeah, probably. But just because the counter-offer was tempting didn't mean he'd take it. "I had to spend an entire night thinking you were dead. That I'd never see you again. I think you can manage a few minutes like this. Then we'll be even."

"Didn't I say sorry? C'mon..."

Did he? He doesn't remember what he said. Just that Rude was, honestly, justifiably quite upset, and Reno didn't have the answers to make anything better. It'd all seemed perfectly sensible at the time to him, at least. Where else would he go but to work? And just... clock in? Report in? Go into their office and say good morning? What else could he do? It's all very different from being injured and showing up late, or any of the other shit they've been through. Can't imagine what it was like for everyone else in the aftermath, although he's... got a good fucking idea of it now.

But eh, y'know. Rude gets worked up about this shit. He let him go instead of trying to hammer home more emotional turmoil that he wasn't really ready to deal with, and... this is his punishment. Great. How the hell do you punish somebody who died, dammit?? The fuck??? Reno grits his teeth and grasps the towel underneath him in his fist instead. Presses the back of his head into Rude's clavicle and swallows tightly enough that it's probably audible, but whatever. Right now he has his choice of shit to struggle with, and aching with want for someone he's not supposed to want and willing his face not to get too red are the ones he's chosen to focus on for now.

"You're just punishing yourself, too, yanno. That ain't right."

"Sorry doesn't fix everything, Reno."

Rude knows he might be a little bit excessive right now, but there's a reason he tries to keep his emotions in check. When they get out of control he does stupid things. This is a much milder retaliation than the anger he took out on every piece of furniture he owned. He..should probably get that cleaned at some point.

If he finds out that Tseng drops dead one day, he's going to be upset about, obviously, but this was different. Reno means more to him than that. He has a feeling that even without having mentioned it, his partner can detect that there's something there. But it's still in that weird space of "are they, aren't they?" where if no one mentions it does it really exist?

"Do you really think I'd let you suck me off in the cabana like one of your fuck buddies?"

He would. He totally fucking would, but that's not what this is about. It's about revenge, and in that mission, Rude has complete focus--raging hard-on aside.

"Yeah, I do," Reno says plainly. That... may be a bluff, a little bit. He's not actually sure whether Rude really would or not, to be honest. Between the two of them, he's not sure which of them is smarter about this shit. He's thought a million times about all kinds of different scenarios and just when he thinks he's got an answer, something else changes, or his expectations are subverted, or he does something to screw it all up himself.

Mostly though, he tries not to think about it at all. He's always running that fine line between not wanting to ruin what he has because he cares too much and being afraid of what it'd feel like to find out he's got it all wrong. Case in point, there's... well, this subject. "But I love how you say that like you aren't acting like one."

If Rude just used him like everyone else, that'd make things make so much fucking sense. And it'd also ruin him, it'd screw with his head. Break his heart a little, maybe, too. But at least it would be something he can understand and work with. They could just screw around. He could mean nothing. That would be... fine. As long as their partnership doesn't get messed up, that's... fine, right?

Whatever, he doesn't know. He's all screwed in the head right now. He'd do just about anything to get his mind off of it. This line of thought at least helps him not focus on how uncomfortable he's starting to get, how hard it is not to squirm in place without any attention.

Oh no, Reno can tell he's lying. That has to be it, but how? They're not facing each other and the only thing that's betraying him at the moment is his cock that heard the words blow job and was fighting to make sure Rude let him get a little bit of the action. His partner had been right, he's torturing himself too.

With the redheads next words Rude hesitates. Is that what he's acting like? He doesn't want to be lumped together with the people who use Reno when then need him and then toss him asked for the next person. He pulls his hands away so he isn't keeping Reno there against his will anymore. This was meant to be a poorly thought out but fairly executed plan, but if that's how he was painting himself out to be, he doesn't want to follow through.

"That's not what I wanted," he starts, sighing when he tries to find what he feels comfortable saying at this point. "I actually care about you. That's the point of all of this. I thought you were gone."

Did Reno even know what that felt like? Probably not like blue balls, but it seemed like a good idea at the time.

Was that the point? Reno makes a funny face at that, not that Rude can see it. His whole body slumps when Rude lets him go, taking a breath as if he'd been holding it in. Maybe he had been, a little. Quickly, he presses his knees together under the towel and bows himself forward a little. So he isn't completely pressed flush up against his partner anymore. For some relief from the torture, naturally, but also because the topic just officially Went There and even if it's not really Going There, it's There and you know what that means.

Time to shut down a little bit. But not too much. Rude deserves better than deflection and a brick wall, but talking about care, or about what something feels like, or about the circumstances of his death just cracks open several cans of worms he'd rather not try to handle. Sometimes you gotta, though. Rude at least deserves an effort. That's why he doesn't shut him down, or do what he really wants to and run for the bathroom so he can jerk off in peace. Fuckfuckfuck.

"I care 'bout you, too, partner," he concedes, and leans back again. Not with the same deliberate insistence, but close enough. His chin lifts to peer up. "I guess I got a funny way of showing it. My bad. I'll stay put and take my punishment, if it makes you feel better."

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