insusurro | NO DATE ONLY DINNER (ft the junon scrubs)

NO DATE ONLY DINNER (ft the junon scrubs)

_{[The days following the gala had been relatively uneventful, save for the morning after. There was a necessary visit to the slums - Sector 5 to be exact - and it had gone off without any major hitches. Was it a little awkward? Sure. It had been the first time Roche had gone searching for flowers in Midgar, and the first time he'd actually bought any for something. For anyone. He doesn't count the times he'd been involved with flowers in Junon. Those moments never involved being crouched over a bed of flowers being "relentlessly" teased by the very florist he'd been sent to, prompting Roche to actually look sheepish. Especially after he'd described them and the realization kicked in as to what they were.

Did Reno realize that they were the same ones that were part of the Gnole's motif?

It'd only become worse when she'd started telling him about the best colors to pick, and the meanings behind them.

Turning up Friday afternoon to pick them up had been even worse, and only cemented the fact that this girl - as lovely and as sweet as she is - was a menace. And right up his alley once the overall mortification passed. Yeah, Reno absolutely knew what he was doing when he sent Roche to her. (Note to self: payback.)

Fortunately the rest of the day was going by smoothly, and by the time eight o'clock rolls around? He's ready.

Roche can't remember the last time he'd actually been able to dress himself up the way he wants. In the past, other people had already had things in mind and the gala had been no exception. This time however, it was in his hands and his alone. The jacket and vest went together just fine all on their own with the white dress shirt underneath it all, and while it was tempting to be a little Extra, the tie itself is a simple, plain black one. He already knows they're going to be right menaces, but that doesn't mean you can't look nice while doing it. The real effort came with his hair. He didn't mess with it often, but this time... It's special. The red streaks would wash out easily and while it's not exact, he did his best to match it to the shade Reno wore in the past. The flowers? Now that was the selling point - a not so big, not so small bouquet of red, orange, pink and yellow Amaryllis, accented by a sparse collection of Forget-Me-Nots and smaller wildflowers. The latter weren't his idea, but who was he to complain? Aerith was the flower expert, not him. (Surely she didn't do it to make it weird.)

Even with the car parked on the street behind him, he doesn't look too out of place at Reno's door in Sector 8. One last peek at the time on his phone - ten to eight. Taking a deep breath, Roche straightens up, and knocks.]}

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

_{[It's the kid's arrival that keeps Roche from reaching across the table for Reno's hand, and he both curses and thanks the powers that be for it. That'd have been weird, right? Especially if he just... blurted out something even stupider. Yeah, this kid? He's a winner tonight. The big, million-gil winner. A regular gillionaire. At any rate, it gives Roche a chance to slam the brakes on whatever is going on in his head before it gets away from him.]}

Ah... Don't worry about it. I'd be completely lost in your shoes, kid.

_{[He says kid like he's so much younger. It's the bright eyes that remind Roche of one. Bright and hopeful for the future, and he finds himself hoping that this place doesn't destroy that look. You hate to see high society do that to a person.]}

We're happy to have you, mister...?

_{[A-Alfons, sir.]}

Alfons. I like that. You'll have to forgive us. We've heard lovely things about this place, but some of the names here are a bit new to us.

_{[Best to be honest and upfront about it all, because Roche knows he's tripping up on how to pronounce some of the words listed as he rattles off his own order, and then tilts his head towards Reno. Do you want the honors? remains unspoken, but there's no hiding the shit-eating smile on his face.]}

...And whatever my dear companion would like.

[ Poor, dear, sweet Alfons. They clearly selected the greenest and most helpless of the bunch to send to the wolves' den, thinking they'd haze the newbie or else give them less than the gold standard of service. Maurice thinks he's pretty fucking clever, does he? Yeah, well, if sweet little Alfons plays his cards right tonight, he could wind up with a diamond in his pocket, a fat stack of cold, hard cash, the favor of two of the most powerful men in the world (each in their own ways, as it were), and also maybe even get invited for a threesome (to be cashed in at a later time, maybe—tonight is just for them unless they decide to get real freaky). It all depends on you, kiddo.

Reno's wicked little grin softens at the kid's nervousness and politeness, but when it's his turn to order, the teeth are showing again as he glances across the table. He contains his laughter and says, extending one finger to tap the menu, in as debonair a voice as he is capable of using: ]

Yeah, I'll get the Douche Burger. With the foe-y grass and gruh-yur cheese, all that. Yep. Oh, and extra gold leaf. I like my douche as gilded as possible.

[ Alfons is having a fucking crisis. Alfons furiously writes that order down, his face beet red. Y-Yes, sir. And for your side, we offer— ]

Fries. [ whoops. ] Please'n'thank you.

[ O-Oh. Yes, sir. Of course, sir. Will there be anything else? ]

Yeah... do me a favor. After you drop off our order, step out back and have a laugh where no one can hear you. You probably get sick of holding that in all day, huh?

[ There's a pause. And then, quietly, It is a struggle, sir. ]

I'll bet.

Make it extra fries. As many as they can load onto one of these plates.

_{[That's the thing about places like this. They never give you enough when it comes to them, and isn't that the worst crime of all? It's always a gigantic slice of pickle and hardly any fries. This is The Test.

I-I'll do my best, sir. And really, that's all anyone has to say. They just have to say, and try. I'll be back with your orders as soon as I can.]}

...What do you think?

_{[Roche, now that he's regained most of his composure, looks back up to Reno. Well. Most of it, because an awful snort still manages to slip out, but he doesn't even try to hide it. Nope, that fake, haughty mask he had around Maurice is g o n e. Adios.]}

I think he looked like he was about to lose it about the gilded douche.

[ Bless his soul. Reno has another short fit of giggles when Roche snorts, and that just made the whole night worth it, didn't it? If nothing else, he ordered an extra gilded douche burger at the nicest restaurant in all of Midgar and no one can do shit about it. He pours himself another glass of whiskey and has a solid sip of it as if to celebrate his success. ]

Yeah, I like him. Unless he does something real fuckin' heinous like spill the food all over us or something, I'd say he's the one. Don't you wanna make his night one to remember, too, you gentleman, you?

[ I mean, really, Roche has done way better at pretending to sound high class, at least. Then again, he's got that flowery, imaginative vocabulary. Reno just says whatever the fuck he feels like whenever the fuck he feels like it. ]

Then that'll be two no-good suckers you've swept off their feet in short order. A real force to be reckoned with.

If anyone is doing any feet sweeping, it's you.

_{[Reno certainly swept Roche off his, and that was the night Reno was all over the place. And how many times has he done that since?? He's honestly lost count at this point, and a lot of that was in part due to the little tiny things shared around the building. Nods across floors, loitering outside, things like that.

It does things to his awful, outcast heart.]}

Next thing we know you'll be coming back in from a job and I'll be waiting on your desk like one of those pin-up girls from the calendars. Think I could convince Gloria to let me in while you're not around?

_{[He's joking. Unless...?]}

Hahaha, oh shit. I'd love that. You'd be more likely to—

[ oh... well... wait a minute now. He shares an office with Rude, and he doesn't intend to leave that desk, but if he's going to be running the joint, that means the Director's office is all his. And its faculties, too, the ones you need sign-off from the bossman to use. Reno's eyebrows raise as he lifts his glass to his mouth, stopping to think before he sips. Honestly, he could have used any of these resources either way, but the fact remains that Roche is categorically less likely to run into Rude instead, like he was going to say, now.

But there won't be any sharing that tonight. Instead, he takes a sip and grins over the rim of his glass, pinning Roche with his searching stare. ]

You can't convince Gloria of shitthefuckall, but she knows the score. Honesty's the best policy with that one. And maybe if you butter her up with, eh... shit! What's that one she keeps around sometimes... begonias, I think. She also likes those shitty little cactus-sesses.

[ cacti, reno. "cacti." ]

_{[Begonias? Huh. He never would've pegged her for a Begonia Gal. If Reno thinks he's not filing that away, then he's in for it. Clearing his throat a bit, Roche sits up straight, plucks the champagne glass off the table, and extends it forward.]}

Good morning, Gloria. I was wondering if you could let me in so I could spread myself across a certain Turk's desk? I'm starting to feel like I'd be a better Honeybee than a SOLDIER, and I'd like his opinion on the matter.

_{[He's unable to keep a straight face for long, especially with Reno still looking at him like that. It all dissolves into a wheezing sort of giggle that Roche tries to cover up with his fist, but... It's already out there. God. At least they're seated far enough away that other tables can't hear, right? All they get is snippets and their reactions.

Animals, the both of them.]}

God... I'd even try bringing both, but...

_{[His eyes wander to the cactuar on Reno's wrist for a moment. Small, green spiky things seems like it's their thing, doesn't it?]}

[ Not cactuars, dummy, succulents! But yeah, Reno's gaze jumps to the dangling cactuar on his wrist, too, and he gets that kinda fuzzy feeling all over again. Yeah, cactus-sesses are their thing. Smirking, he gives his wrist a little shake so that the charm swings back and forth as he's taking another sip of his drink. It's meant to help him muffle his grin (and probably his laughter) when Roche laughs like that. Fuck, he's starting to get a little sloppy. This shit is gonna take him from pleasantly buzzed to drunk real quick. It kind of already is. Plus he's been dry for, what, several months? Yeah. It's already going to his head. His cheeks are getting a little ruddy. ]

Make sure you tell her which Turk, specifically. Oh, and you better come dressed for the part! I want fishnets, the little stinger bee ass thing, wings... the works. Evidently Rude's got a hookup with the proprietor for playing dressup. You should ask him to connect you. Aw, he'll make you pretty.

[ Can you imagine? yes. He can, and he is, and it's glorious. Oh, but wait— ]

Mm, you're already pretty, actually.

[ yeah, the dalmore's getting to him. ]

You just want an excuse to see me all dolled up like you were during the gala, don't you?

_{[Everything minus the weird bee ass could be hidden under his uniform, so it'd be missing part of it but... Huh. In all his years, Roche never actually considered doing that before. Who'd have thought that one Turk is all it takes to get him to actually think about it now?

Stranger things have happened.

Roche is going to have to mull it over some more, but hey! The idea is in his head now.]}

Though you ought to remind me which desk is actually yours. I get the feeling you'd get a kick out of it, but I don't know if your partner would appreciate me putting my ass all over the space he does his paperwork.

_{[Or... No, no, that's a silly idea. Even if the thought turns the tips of his ears the tiniest shades of pink. He knows this is the Good Primo Shit, but Roche barely feels the buzz in his fingertips. Is it time for a third glass? Perhaps, but he's not going to drink it right away. He just sort of... sloshes it around.]}

...I am serious about that, for what it's worth. Turning up on your desk and waiting for you to come back. I could even throw in a shoulder rub, though I don't have the talent Rude does.

[ Oh, no. The mental image of Roche getting all slutted up in a bee outfit and coming to lay out all pinup-like on his desk, only to wind up on Rude's instead, is pretty fucking funny. He's almost completely certain Rude would get a kick out of it, too, after the shock and disgruntlement over having his work messed up passed, anyway. He can picture it now, the look on his face— and on Roche's— and then he's giggling, that ruddiness in his face flushing even darker red. Give it long enough and who knows just what he could "stroll in" on.

Oh. That's pretty hot. Reno's grin widens, and he knows for a fact he isn't being subtle at all about the thoughts going through his head anymore, but between just Being Like That all the time and the alcohol, he doesn't give a damn. In fact, he'd like for Roche to know exactly what he's thinking. It kinda has a little extra spice to it, thinking such impure thoughts in such a high-class place. ]

Ohhhh, so you've met him and his famous shoulder rubs? Yeah, he's really good with his hands. Reaaally good. Say, we're really onto something here. It's been awhile since we had a bee in the office. The desk you want is the one on the left. We share an office, y'know, but I got ways around that. Top-secret, special ways.

[ The one on the left is, in fact, Rude's. ]

_{[Special ways, huh? Part of him wants to know now, but where would the fun be in that? Life was always that much more exciting with surprises waiting around the corner. Especially when said surprises concern his favorite people. Roche hasn't been disappointed by the Turks and their antics yet, and he doubts it'll happen anytime soon.]}

I seem to recall him saying I could do porn if I ever retired while he was working on my back. Being the office bee sounds like it'd be a step in the right direction.

_{[He still finds the thought hilarious for a number of reasons. Boy, that'd be sticking it to the old guard of Shinra, wouldn't it? It's a little fucked up, but it almost makes him want to do it even more now. Someone really ought to smack him with a newspaper. No, bad Roche. Bad.]}

Do I have to do the makeup, too? Or do you think I could get away with lip gloss and nail polish?

[ ohohoh. Rude said that? Reno's eyes light up like the starriest of skies. This is news to him! He knows Rude knows he knows Roche, at least, because he's mentioned it offhandedly a couple times, but isn't it kinda funny how he's utterly failed to mention any of his personal inclinations with anyone to him? Yeah, there's kind of a reason for that. And that reason is that Rude is very clingy, and needy, and would probably take it to heart. But, see, if he thinks Roche is porny...

This couldn't be any better if he tried. This is perfect, in fact. Reno's ruddy face is twisted with absolute glee and getting more flushed by the second. And yet he still goes to pour himself another glass anyway. ]

You'll wear whatever the good Mr. Rhodea puts you in, and it'll probably include makeup. Hey, uh...

[ he can't help himself. he just can't. ]

Did you two, y'know...

_{[The question catches him so off guard that he nearly spits. But that'd be a waste of a good dalmore, so he winds up choking on it as it goes down. Sure, it draws a bit of attention for a few moments but he's fine. 100%, totally fine. You'd think he'd expect something like that by now, but when it comes right for your throat like that?

Hey, universe? Mercy? No? Fine, he doesn't need no stinkin' mercy. Mercy is for c h u m p s.]}

N-No-- Ah... No, but I... don't think I'd have refused him if he asked. He only worked out knots I didn't know I had and turned me into putty right there on the beach. Brought me to a cabana, and I did my best to return the favor.

_{[If he's looking a little more flushed in the cheeks, it's only because of the little coughing fit.]}

Hand massage. That's, uh... All I knew how to do, and only because of that place in Wall Market.

That's it, really...? Heh!

[ My, Rude is so respectable. And that credit does in fact go to Rude and not to Roche, because he knows for a fact that Rude's decency has a way of rubbing off on sorts like him. Not enough to make him change his ways, but let's just put it this way: if his darling partner hadn't been the kind of man that he is, and had perhaps been just a little bit more willing to succumb to his influences, instead, they would have been fucking like rabbits ten years ago. Oh, god, the young'n'wild sex they've missed out on, it's fucking tragic. But hey, they're in their prime now, they've got time to make up for it.

At any rate, Reno hasn't looked or felt this delighted in a long time, and that's probably partially because the adrenaline of picturing Rude working out the kinks is getting that alcohol in his bloodstream rushing around much faster than it was before. He's not sure he remembers the last time he came down off such a dry spell, if there ever was one, so of course it's going to him hard. ]

Yeah, he's almost impossible to say no to, huh? Good to know. A little hint about him, though? He's not gonna ask. You gotta take hold'a those handlebars yourself. I can teach you how I did it...

[ Well, besides the dancing and the game of "try not to get off" that ended in crying and ass eating. The other thing. The actual thing. God, he's rapidly hitting wasted status. He must be if he's divulging any details about who else in this world he sleeps with that has a name anyone cares about knowing. Especially when that person is Rude, but whatever. He'll have that threesome if it kills him, and soon. So it's fine. ]

He strikes me as the sort of man who I have to earn the attention of. I can't simply throw him on Delilah and expect it to be smooth sailing like...

_{[Like us, he wants to say. Whatever he and Reno have has been scarily smooth and turbulent all at once in the best possible way, and no doubt part of it is because have some idea as to how the other ticks. With their lifestyles, it's hard to ignore that sort of thing. Rude on the other hand was an enigma to Roche. He didn't quite know how to stoke his engine the way he knows how to get Reno's going.

He doesn't even know if the other man was interested in him like that.

Without thinking, Roche extends his leg to hook his foot around Reno's ankle. Just some harmless contact, that's all. Or it could've been if the glow of his eyes didn't have that mischievous glow to them. Look, their terms only said something about Roche making a pass and backing off. Nothing about the other way around, right? This is just his way of going along with it.]}

Are you really encouraging me to fool around with your partner? I am shocked. Shocked!

_{[Well, not that shocked.]}

Tch, don't be silly. I'm encouraging you to try.

[ Rude can vet his own picks, frankly. All he's doing is passing him one he thinks is pretty good. And if Rude's into him, then that makes furthering his plans of being railed by them both that much easier, and isn't that what truly matters in this world?

It does when you're smashed on fancy bubbly and the Dalmore 62, yeah.

Anyway, you know what's an impressive skill? The way that Reno raises his leg beneath the table and trails the inside of his ankle up, up, up the inside of Roche's calf without ever looking, above the tablecloth, as if he has moved at all. It takes very specific kind of muscle control and body strength to move just your leg without obviously looking like you're getting up to shit, but here he is playin' all sorts of games while he drinks a highly inadvisable 'nother glass of champagne, casual as can be. ]

An' anyways, if my partner likes you, then that's all the info I need to know you're really a keeper.

_{[Who does Reno think he is? Who gave him the right to say things that send Roche's heart into overdrive and make him feel all sorts of weird shit? He wants to file a complaint to their supervisor right now.]}

A keeper? That's new. ...What would you say if I said I liked him, too?

_{[Because Roche does, okay? He doesn't know him as well as he'd like to yet, but everything he's seen so far? He likes. He likes a lot.

Granted he can't really think about all of the reasons why right this instant, because his attention is split between Reno's leg trailing up and the look his his face. That's sneaky, bro. Real sneaky. And smooth. So smooth, that Roche slowly brings his knees together to trap Reno's foot between his shins with an arched brow.]}

How much higher would that praise be?

Oh, in that case...

[ The highest praise there is. Anyone who likes his partner (that isn't a filthy stinking terrorist spy bitch named Chelsea... or anyone else Rude has tried to seriously date that was basically trash) is good by him. Reno smirks as Roche traps his foot, and do you think that means he's caught? Really? Like an animal in a bear trap? Think again, bitch.

Reno makes his disappearance under the table look like a magic trick. Now you see him—and all with one leg caught. He bends like he's made of water, glancing to the side only briefly to make sure no one is looking directly at him while he's setting down his glass, and then the next second, poof, he's hidden under the tablecloth just like that. That element of surprise, he's sure, is enough to make Roche let him go so that he can get down on his knees, flipping from the spidercrawl he'd dropped down into to crawling up and perching his cheek on Roche's knee, his voice a whisper just harsh enough to carry: ]

Lemme show you how high my praise goes.

[ So much for being a "good girl" tonight. ]

_{[It's a neat trick. One that makes Roche's heart skip a beat, and draws forth a breathy laugh. Well, then. There's no arguing with Reno, is there? Roche could do it until he turned blue in the face, but that's not like him. Nope, instead of doing something pointless like that, he bumps Reno's shoulder with his unoccupied knee. His own voice drops to a low rumble, and to the rest of the world he starts to take a great interest in pouring another glass of the dalmore.]}

You get too naughty and I might have to spank you on the ride home. I could get away with that too, since technically it wouldn't count as making a pass.

_{[The most important thing here is Roche isn't saying no. It kills him a little that he can't shove his hands under the table without rousing suspicion to mess with his hair, but hey, he can always mess with Reno in ways that don't require them.]}

Sounds more like a promise than a threat.

[ yet another hissed whisper, and that about says it all, doesn't it? that he's going to be too naughty regardless. no regrets, honestly. this is the perfect middle finger to high society, in his eyes. a couple of dustborn rats that don't belong here making it their own, ordering and saying and doing whatever the hell they want, sullying up the joint with their nasty, reckless behavior. that's god damn poetry, right there.

and also he's drunk, but whatever, hush.

that's that, then. reno turns his head and bites roche's knee when it touches him, and then mouths his way right up the inside of his clothed thigh. should he mind not to leave wet spots? whatever, they'll dry. it's dark fabric. he parts roche's legs with a hand on either knee and once he's made his way to settle between his thighs, employs his wicked little teeth on the bulge in those lovely fancy pants of his. listen, there's plenty of material to protect him from actually getting his dick bit, relax. ]

How good is your poker face, babe?

It's...

_{[Roche trails off for a moment, staring down at the table as if he could see clear through it. He doesn't have to in order to know the look Reno wears on his face, but god if he doesn't want to see it anyway. His fingers drum a meaningless rhythm against the surface, trying to think of the best way to answer it. His poker face was fine, thankfully. You needed to have a good one when listening to the coats in R&D, and when dealing with the chain of command scolding him for the umpteenth time.

All things considered he thinks it's a pretty decent poker face he's managed to cultivate over the years.]}

...not going to get us kicked out, if that's something you're worried about. I believe it can handle you like this.

_{[Now if Roche could actually see Reno? That'd be another story. He's safe from that for the time being however, so when he starts working his way up, up, and up, he slides his chair in closer. Even readjusts the tablecloth a bit like he'd noticed a few wrinkles and was simply smoothing them out. No one is any the wiser, and with the alcohol finally starting to sink its claws into his system? No one'll bat an eye if he gets a little flushed in the face. It's the perfect cover.]}

If he comes back, you're in the restroom or you stepped out for a smoke. Good?

Perfect.

[ If that answer even carries back up to the table, he can't be bothered to care. He's had enough teasing. Roche is being a god damn prince charming tonight, and this is the best way Reno knows how to express his emotions, or... literally anything else. What was the premise behind this, again? Something about Rude? Whatever yeah sure he'd suck Rude's dick, too. He has sucked Rude's dick. God, that was some good shit. He's also sucked Roche's before, too, and amazingly it was also while he was drunk in public, but that was totally different. That was sloppy drunk, pure slut behavior. That was him on the edge of his sanity and just doing whatever the hell with someone who was basically a stranger to him. They were just havin' stupid fun back at the Gold Saucer. This is...

...different?

Can it be different if you're just blowing someone? Is there such a thing as a meaningful blowjob? Like, he's blown some meaningful people, but like............... it's just a blowjob. Right?

Whatever.

Enough fucking around. Reno tugs down the fly of Roche's pants so deliberately he's sure it makes a sound and doesn't waste one single further second pulling his cock out and licking a long wet strip all the way up. He purses his lips over it and sucks hard and is he trying to get his goat? A little? Maybe. Which would be, y'know, fine, if sweet little Alfons wasn't on his way back with a complimentary bread basket, on the house. Because he likes this table. ]

_{[Roche opens his mouth to ask Reno to repeat himself, but all he manages to get out are the first two words before he has to bite down on the inside of his cheek. Alright, alright. He's playing dirty right out the gates and it's nothing short of a miracle that the only real noise Roche makes is a sharp exhale from his nose.

Yeah, alright, he's getting at least one good swat on the ass for that. He was going to wait until they were in the car, but now Roche is probably going to make good on it as they leave. That'd be another big middle finger to high society, wouldn't it?]}

Fuck--

_{[That, at least, isn't directed towards anyone in particular and is muffled partially by the lip of his glass. It's an even better cover when Alfons turns up and looks... confused for a moment? Where'd the other guy go?]}

Ah... He'll be back, don't worry. You know how it is when business calls.

_{[Oh, Alfons. Sweet, sweet Alfons. It pains him so much to lie to such a cute face (it doesn't), but sometimes it has to be done for the greater good. And in this case, the greater good was going to drive him up the wall under the table. This wasn't like the Saucer where Roche could freely bury his hands into Reno's hair and whisper absolutely nothing but praise and other sweet nothings. He couldn't look over his shoulder, make eye contact with someone walking by and give them a look that dared them to say something. No, this time he had to behave himself, pretend nothing out of the ordinary was going on, and keep any squirming to a minimum.

I'll be back in, um... Five-- Ten, he counters. Ten, and his dear beau ought to be back. Alfons'll be perfectly fine in their hands, and if management tries to scold him? There'll be words. T-Ten minutes, then.

It shouldn't take that long. No, he can't even recall lasting terribly long at the Saucer either, and both of them had been all over the place that night. Here he was entirely at Reno's mercy, only after Alfons departs a second time does Roche let himself slump forward. All he can do to coax Reno along is an occasional nudge with the side of his heel.]}

Hear that, babe? Ten minutes.

[ Ten minutes, geez. Reno huffs quietly under his breath in a silent laugh. Ten minutes and he'll have sucked Roche's soul clear out of his body. At the rate he's going, they'll be lucky to last a solid five, but hey, if the gentleman of the hour would like him to make it last rather than slam through the whole experience, who is he to deny him? Ten minutes it is.

That means he can pull back to play with his food a little. Y'know, before he enjoys a nice gilded doucheburger. Some might say it's bad form to have dessert before dinner, but whoever says that is a stiff who doesn't know how to live. Reno doesn't offer any verbal response or words of encouragement, and he's real careful about not making a peep otherwise, but what he lacks in audio feedback he makes up for with an absolute world class talent using his lips and tongue. And in being a fucking tease, like when he goes from lapping over him like a kid with a sucker to swallowing him all the way to the base to pulling off entirely just to nuzzle his cock with his cheek, his breaths coming out in hhh-hhh-hhhs through his nose to convey that he knows full goddamn well he's being a shit.

The timer may not come out to a whole ten minutes before he finally has anything to say, murmured low and spoken with his lips against the tip like he's talking into a microphone. ]

Should I just leave you hanging, you think...?

You do that and I think I'm going to have to reconsider a few things, Hotshot.

_{[Nothing serious, at least. Roche glances over his shoulder, and once he seems to be certain that it's all clear? He throws caution straight into the trash and slips a hand under the tablecloth to cup the back of Reno's head to keep him right where he is for a moment. To the outside, he may as well just be scratching an itch or doing the polite thing and keeping himself from fiddling with too much on the table. And if he rocks his hips forward just once, rubbing himself against his cheek?

He's simply getting comfortable. The chairs aren't as luxurious as a booth, you know.]}

I was thinking about climbing into your lap and trying to take you for a ride when we get home, but now I'm not so sure.

_{[How's that for a pass? Thank god for being able to keep his voice down, because no one but Reno needs to hear that.]}

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