For a moment, Tseng wholly believes that he will. His breath catches, not out of fear but excitement that ripples beneath his skin, pumps his heart in a wild blur of pounding kinetics. He wants to lean into those hands and whisper until he can't anymore for Reno to just do it, tear him open and hollow him right back out again. And Reno must be thinking the same thing too, because he speaks and all but affirms it.
That they shouldn't is—it's not a non-issue, but it is losing a very bloody battle in his mind. They need to move on, they need to go back to work, he needs to report to Rufus, there's so much that is mandatory and urgent and they are spitting in the face of it all by even coming here. He should not be encouraging this behavior. He also died last night too, which is no excuse for tardiness and never has been, but this is a part of their work now, and Reno is doing such a good job taking inventory that it would hardly be proper to discourage him.
"No," Tseng agrees. He is watching Reno, wondering how long it has been since he has been so bare before anyone. And was there ever a time when he let hands that were not his own roam so freely over his flesh uncontested? How strange it is, that that familiar revulsion is nowhere to be found, how he almost wants to sink into Reno's touch, no matter how cruel it turns. Especially if it becomes sharper, nastier, because maybe then this alien longing will be sated and they can go back to business as usual.
For now, he is captured in the throes of it, and it drives his fingers to stroke through Reno's hair, makes him content to stay locked within the passing of their lightless gazes.
"Do you want to suffer?" he asks, as breathless as anyone would be asking if they're wanted, if they're loved, if they're cherished. He wants to add that he could make it so sweet, that there is no one else in this world who could hurt him like Tseng could, but if Reno does not already know that doubtlessly, then there really is no point.
no subject
That they shouldn't is—it's not a non-issue, but it is losing a very bloody battle in his mind. They need to move on, they need to go back to work, he needs to report to Rufus, there's so much that is mandatory and urgent and they are spitting in the face of it all by even coming here. He should not be encouraging this behavior. He also died last night too, which is no excuse for tardiness and never has been, but this is a part of their work now, and Reno is doing such a good job taking inventory that it would hardly be proper to discourage him.
"No," Tseng agrees. He is watching Reno, wondering how long it has been since he has been so bare before anyone. And was there ever a time when he let hands that were not his own roam so freely over his flesh uncontested? How strange it is, that that familiar revulsion is nowhere to be found, how he almost wants to sink into Reno's touch, no matter how cruel it turns. Especially if it becomes sharper, nastier, because maybe then this alien longing will be sated and they can go back to business as usual.
For now, he is captured in the throes of it, and it drives his fingers to stroke through Reno's hair, makes him content to stay locked within the passing of their lightless gazes.
"Do you want to suffer?" he asks, as breathless as anyone would be asking if they're wanted, if they're loved, if they're cherished. He wants to add that he could make it so sweet, that there is no one else in this world who could hurt him like Tseng could, but if Reno does not already know that doubtlessly, then there really is no point.