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

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.]}

[ Naughty naughty, wiggling around at the table like that, Roche. Reno murmurs through his nose and does what any normal person would do and gives his dick a love-pat. It's not a slap, but he taps it hard enough to make a soft pap that's surely audible (although probably not to anyone that isn't at their table), head tilting back into Roche's cupped hold at base of his neck. ]

Hold still, you heathen, we're in polite company.

[ He has to breathe his laughter out to avoid being overheard, hss-hss-hss. His lips part, but all he does is mouth at him, toying with him, making his cock bob with each lap of his tongue. ]

Mm, I like the sound of that... guess I better change your mind about changing your mind, huh? I want you to be totally sure about what you want with me.

[ Whatever that might be, as it were. Back down to the base he goes, then, swallowing him easily with a soft, choked moan that's also meant only for Roche to hear. ]

_{[His breath hitches and his fingers grip at the back of Reno's neck, but he's quick to put his game face back on. Up top, Roche leans into the back of the chair and continues to nurse his whiskey. He allows himself to pet his neck once, twice, and very begrudgingly withdraws his hand to place it back onto the table next to the bottle. You know, for when his glass is empty.]}

What I want...

_{[Roche exhales, and his legs fall just that much farther apart. Keeping his mouth shut would be the smart thing, but having a private little chat? That's one way to push his motor into the next gear.]}

I shouldn't say it.

_{[Someone might faint. And it's also best to leave it open just so Reno's imagination can take it and run abso-fucking-lutely buck wild with it. Let's see what he can come up with! Just for funsies! Because really, Roche already has some ideas as to what he could do, it's just a matter of behaving himself. Keep the ball in Reno's court and all that.]}

[ For a moment there's only the soft wet sounds of his mouth working Roche over like he's gettin' paid and the rent's due tomorrow. He's sober enough to at least listen for footsteps if they pass by the table, pausing only when he has to, but mostly going in without restraint, swallowed to the base and his nose touching Roche's stomach when a waitress in a fancy getup passes by with several expensive-looking bottles of something for a large table on the far side of the room. After she passes, he pulls back, his answer in a hissed whisper that carries enough that anyone nearby probably can hear the ss-ss-ss sounds, but not much else. ]

You shouldn't, but you're gonna tell me anyway. You're gonna spill some secrets tonight, baby.

[ Secrets. His prized currency. Back to teasing, murmuring quietly again. It's fine if Roche doesn't (or can't) answer him back—the talk is meant to rile him up as much as the other fancy tricks with his mouth are. Maybe even moreso. ]

It's not just gonna be somethin' for nothin'... I'll talk if you treat me right. And you will, won't you? You're so good to me. ♥

[ the flirty heart emoji is literally audible. and so is the noisy sound he makes when he sucks him down again, prompting a lady at the table next to them to glance over, frowning. ]

_{[He barely catches it from the corner of his eye, and wouldn't you know it? Roche shoots the fine woman a sheepish smile and raises his glass.]}

Apologies, miss. It's the best I've had in a long time.

_{[She squints, and it's either a satisfactory apology or she catches the glow in his eyes that brands him for what he is because she quickly diverts her eyes. A SOLDIER being somewhere so "formal" usually means they're acting as a guard for someone important so surely he must be waiting for that person, right?

Too bad the someone important they're expecting isn't going to show, and the real VIP of the night is under the table. It really is a shame that he has to stifle himself and keep his movements at a minimum. Roche quietly laughs to himself, and he shifts his leg to press the side of his foot against Reno's knee.]}

You... _{[A light tap. One-two. Just a warning that he's slipping closer and closer to that invisible precipice Reno has pulled him to.]} If you keep doing that, I'll spill more than a few secrets. Might be my whiskey, might be something else.

_{[God, what he wouldn't give to get his hands on his face properly. Trace those brilliant red tattoos with his thumbs and wrap his hands around his neck. He wouldn't choke him like that, but he'd do it just to see if he could feel his own dick in his throat. Roche knows without a doubt that this man is going to be the end of him, and you know what? He's still okay with it.]}

[ Warning? More like encouragement. Reno hums softly, lips pursed around the head of Roche's cock as he leans his head back again, taking a breath he doesn't need, pausing like he might say something, and then deciding against it in favor of taking it all the way to the end of the line. What he wouldn't give for a look at Roche's face, to be a fly on the wall in the room at large to see just how much attention he's drawing. It'd at least be nice to see the flush of his skin, going red in the cheeks and at his throat. It's enough to feel it all happen here, like this, though. How he starts to twitch, how tense the muscles in his thighs get, the way his breath quickens and his stomach draws taut.

His only answer, in the end, is another just-audible-enough wet noise and a low, murmuring moan as he pulls off, coaxing with his lips and tongue and quick pumps of his hand. Going for the messy, facial route, is he? Well, hell, it's not like he has any makeup to ruin this time. Don't worry. He's going somewhere with it. And he won't let it get in his hair, either. That'd be just terrible. ]

_{[Fortunately the dalmore provides an easy excuse to the dark pink spread across his skin. And if he has to, the temperature. They both know that'd a lie for the history books (SOLDIER was notorious for uniforms that could become unbearable in the heat), but it's not like anyone else would know. What matters is it'd make sense to everyone else. The thing that wouldn't be easy to brush off is the sudden appearance of shattered glass. Roche catches himself before his grip becomes too much for it, forcing him to set it down onto the table.

Just in time, too.

Torture wasn't being strapped to a chair and having someone beat the everloving shit out of him. Torture was being unable to touch. It's having to keep his hands where he can see them while his body shudders as he tumbles and spills into Reno's waiting mouth. It's the sudden burst of something metallic in his mouth from biting the inside of his mouth, and it's the feeling of a pair of invisible hands squeezing tight around his throat. It's Roche exhaling slowly through his nose, having no choice but to submit.

At the very least his expression doesn't shift save for the clenching and unclenching of his jaw. He doesn't trust his voice, nor does he trust the rest of himself. Mark his words, Reno. Mark his fucking words. Already the cogs start turning in his head. By the time they're ready to leave, he'll have something.]}

[ Reno is no ungrateful wretch with no manners—most of that's getting swallowed to spoil his dinner. Mama always said don't waste good cum when there's starving hoes out there who might not get any for awhile (mama doesn't exist, he made that up). He pulls Roche past his limit and well over the red line, as it were, and only makes just a little bit of a mess of himself, deliberately placed. It's fine. He's going somewhere with this, remember? In the meantime he nuzzles his cheek against his softening cock, then the inside of his thigh and politely tucks him back into his pants. He's sure it's possible to feel the grin even without being able to see it. ]

Tell me when the coast is clear.

[ It's a handful of seconds, no more than a minute when nobody is walking by or looking their way, and Reno spends it preparing for the punchline. When he finally gets the signal to resurface, he pops back up into his seat and that's sure to wind up bamboozling someone who will wonder if they somehow missed his striking figure cutting a path across the restaurant floor back to his seat. That's kind of part of the fun, too.

But not as much fun as sitting there audaciously with jizz dribbling down his chin, waiting just long enough for Roche to see it before he wipes it off with his fancy silk napkin. Get fucked, high society. Pretend it's Alfredo sauce. ]

Man, I dunno about you, but I got one hell of an appetite all of a sudden.

[ And wouldn't you know it! Right on time, here comes sweet Alfons with their food. Ten minutes on the dot. It's hard to say who's the better artist here, Reno or the waiter. Reno just grins and pours himself another glass of whiskey as the highly fancy food is laid out for them. It almost looks too pretty to be edible. His doucheburger is in fact extra gilded in addition to looking extra douchey. ]

My man! You really came through. That's good work, kid, really good work.

You're incorrigible.

_{[Is it about the hunger comment, or the blatant advertisement of what he just did? ~It's a mystery.~ No matter the answer, Roche feels his face warm up that much more at the sight of the latter. How many times is Reno going to draw that sort of reaction from him tonight, anyway? No matter, he stretches his leg out under the table and hooks his foot around an ankle.

God, what an awful, beautiful asshole.

Good thing he doesn't get a chance to voice that, too. Alfons. Alfons, baby. Baby, he loves you so much. Must be part of that sixth sense waiters have - you know, the one where they always seem to pop up to ask how you're doing while you've got a mouthful of food? Only this one also keeps Roche from saying something stupid. It's a damn shame he won't be coming home with the two of them tonight because oh boy one of them is going to need the help. Or both. Definitely both.]}

I don't know what we'd do without you, Alfons. Truly.

_{[Seriously, look at that gilded douche. What'd they to to deserve such a good boy? Oh, right. Stick out like total sore thumbs in this hoity toity world that they 100% do not belong in. Maurice, you did everyone a solid here. Everyone may as well be right at home and you've single-handedly landed this kid the biggest tip of the night. Of the month.]}

[ Oh, it's my pleasure, sirs, Alfons murmurs after he's set the last dish down. May I offer you anything else? ]

Nah, you've done perfect. Go take a rest, you earned it.

[ I'm afraid I've other tables to see to, but thank you. Do enjoy, says their dear, sweet waiter with a smile in what is undoubtedly a hard-trained posh sounding voice. Reno grins back at him, and after he's gone, hmms thoughtfully and trails the inside of his ankle up and down Roche's. ]

I wonder how long it took them to beat the country twang outta him. He's from Nibelheim. Probably only been here a few years. I'm willing to bet someone got him this job as a favor. An older brother, maybe.

[ Can he tell that much from a handful of minutes with the guy? Yep, he sure can. And speaking of a handful, fuck, this doucheburger is ridiculous. It's so overflowing with odd-smelling shit it hardly wants to hold itself together on the tiny bun it came on. How the hell do you eat this thing? Not with your hands? Is he supposed to use a knife and fork?!??! Reno stares at his food for as long as it takes to debate whether he's willing to be that much of an asshole and then just says fuck it. Sets his glass down and... cuts a damn piece of douche. It's

...gross actually. He blinks over and over as he chews. His mouth has never been more confused. ]

Your jizz tasted better.

[ JUST SAY THAT OUT LOUD IN PUBLIC WHATEVER ]

Shame, that. I've always found backwater drawls to be a toe-curler.

_{[Doubly so when they accidentally slip out when the person in question gets excited about something. You can take the boy out of the country, but you can never take the country out of the boy. Roche watches him across the room for a table or two while Reno busies himself with the Grand Ole Douche, then turns his attention to the beef slices. Skewers one with the completely wrong fork because why the hell does anyone need five different ones, looks up...

And just about loses it at the look on Reno's face. Oh, baby.

Roche doesn't even try to hide his grin. He just reaches across the table and offers up the strip of wagyu. Open up. And hook him up with a piece of that too, because can it really be that bad???????]}

I don't know how to tell you this, but no matter how short a SOLDIER's refractory period is you can't subsist on spunk, Hotshot. I think you'd be more liable to come down with a case of mako poisoning before that. Or I'd probably keel over. Whichever came first, I doubt it'd be good for either of us.

_{[BOYS. DO NOT.]}

[ backwater just makes him think of... yeah, no. And you know what else does, a SOLDIER's refractory period. Ha ha, he knows all about that! God, he sure fucks a lot of SOLDIERs or SOLDIER-adjacents, huh? Never really thought about it much before. Then again, he fucks everybody, so whatever. ]

Psh, have you seen me? I already subsist on nothing as it is, at least a splooge cleanse diet would give me some protein.

[ guys please. Reno passes his plate over for Roche to try this unholy abomination and eats the strip off his fork in the meantime. Now that's... palatable, he guesses. Honestly some bottomdweller cheap street food beats this any day of the week, but maybe he just thinks so because his tastebuds are underdeveloped and don't know how to process real food. It's just as well that he likes this better, anyhow—ask Rude, he'll tell you, Reno's always doing the annoying girlfriend thing where he wants what's on the other person's plate. ]

Mako poisoning ain't that bad, either. Just walk it off. Like a bad high.

[ That lady at the next table over is staring again. Reno licks the tines of his fork and tries one of the truffle things oozing around on the side of his plate. That part is pretty good, actually. ]

Next time I go in for a tune-up, I'll be sure to crash at your place when I come down from it. S'part of why I don't want to jump into Second class.

_{[That, and a higher rank means more work which means less time screwing around on the road and Causing Problems On Purpose. And it'd mean less time spent with the dumbapples of his eyes. Roche wouldn't stand for that, no sirree.]}

Though if you're really living off of nothing, it sounds like I ought to take you out more. I can't say I'm a good cook, but...

_{[Roche finally takes a bite of the gilded behemoth, and almost immediately his face contorts into a grimace. Oh, that's... Not great. Everything else practically drowns out the beef, and for a moment he looks like some poor, confused animal. Street life taught him to never waste food no matter how godawful it is though, so even though it takes a few painful seconds? Down it goes. And as soon as it does, he's reaching for the whiskey, tongue out.]}

—You're right. I taste better. Oh my god.

_{[Are there people out there who actually eat this on a regular basis? This is an affront to the classic burger! If anything needs some good ol' divine judgement, it's that! 1/10, would not recommend.]}

You'd cook for me? Baaabe.

[ Oh no. Oh god. There it goes. Reno laughs outright with a pfffthahaha and doesn't feel bad about it in the slightest. Hey, at least he he kept the stank look off his face! Doesn't matter if he's got better manners (he doesn't) or if he's just better conditioned not to let his utter disbelief show too much (probably), he ate that solid gold douche and by god he did not make a fuss. ]

Toldja. You think that's why the liquor's so strong? To drown out the taste of the godawful food?

[ Aw, maybe he shouldn't say that too loud. He wouldn't want to make Alfons feel bad. He'd probably agree though, poor kid. They really need to hire him out from under this hellhole. Maybe get him a nice admin job in the skylounge at HQ or something. Cushy, nice view, lots of perks. And basically no actual work he'd be responsible for, with a chunky-ass paycheck to boot. Yeah, that seems fair. Reno nods to himself as he's swallowing down the last of his whiskey in solidarity. ]

Don't worry. I'll get us crap-ass takeout when we get back to my place. Gotta have something for that totally innocent couch cuddle sesh, right?

[ There is obviously nothing innocent about anything he just said and he knows it. ]

_{[Oh, please poach Alfons. He'd thrive up in the skylounge, and if he doesn't watch it he might even get eaten up. Plus it'd be less awkward to loiter around that floor than it'd be to loiter here if anyone wanted to get his "attention." Roche would do it if he were ever in his position, that's for damn sure. The kid is wasted on a place like this.]}

God, it's like you're trying to make me fall for you.

_{[His laughter is along the lines of a subdued HAHAHAHhahahahaha-- and boy, Roche is killing it and himself with the shitty jokes tonight. That's probably the best-worst one he's told yet. Aaaaaaand there's that funky feeling in his chest again. Is he blaming this one on the doucheburger? You betcha. When in doubt, blame the weird food.

He's so fucked.]}

You do that, and I'll wake up bright and early to make... I don't know. Pancakes? Eggs? Whatever your heart desires.

_{[Because there is no way in hell he's going home by himself tonight. Nope. Reno's stuck with him until at least noon.]}

Whatever my heart desires, huh?

[ His? Heart? That he always acts like and sometimes even says he doesn't have? He could've still believed that if not for Tseng, maybe. After everything that happened with that mess, his chest's been torn wide open and his heart laid bare as surely as if Tseng had torn it out of him and slammed it down on the table to look at. You see? There it is. There's no denying it now—he's got one. And it works. And it works overtime, in fact, without even getting any double pay.

And it's doing a little flippedy-floppedy thing right now, which he circumvents dealing with by stuffing a bite of whatever the hell this... mushroom thing or... actually he doesn't know what it is he stabs on his fork (salad fork, you idiot) and eats, but it, too, is better than the douche, so whatever. ]

Can you do hashbrowns? Say yes and we have a deal.

[ they're not fries but they're close enough. And there they go again, doing the ankles thing under the table. You guys the last time this happened there was a blowjob. ]

Anything.

_{[Each syllable is punctuated with a light bump of his foot against Reno's ankle, and he takes the opportunity to tend to his own plate. He's not used to how rich it is compared to what he usually eats, but gosh darn it if these little potatoes aren't the cutest things. They're going right on his shopping list next time he goes out. He even goes as far as skewering a few to plop them onto Reno's plate, too. He's got no qualms about doing the sappy, gross thing and sharing.]}

But, yes. I can do those. I can do it hole-in-the-wall style where it's greasy as hell, or I can whip it up like they do in some of the places up here on the plates.

_{[It's going to be the greasy ones, don't worry. Roche knows that's where all the flavor is, and he saves all his bacon grease just for that.]}

I could even bring it to you in bed.

Mm-mm. Cheap and greasy, baby. That's the only way. Hah... fucked-out and full'a potatoes, that's what bed is for, right?

[ Living the life. Maybe not quite as nice as when Rude makes him breakfast, but he also hasn't had the benefit of fucking Rude and staying for breakfast just yet, either. Or having him stay. Huh, they should correct that, now that they finally broke the seal on that, huh? Or... like... would that be too much? Funny how he can wonder if that would be "too much" with Rude while thinking it's perfectly acceptable for Roche. Listen, it's lower stakes, that's the thing! He doesn't have as much to lose.

Maybe. Probably? Whatever. Speaking of potatoes, Reno plows into the ones Roche gives him, and those are actually good. So there is food that's halfway decent here after all! Imagine that. Then again, there probably isn't any kind of potato he won't eat. He's a dirt-eating commoner like that. ]

Guess I'll have to reward you for it before you head out.

_{[Life is short. Drive fast, leave a beautiful corpse and do whatever the hell your heart desires. Seriously, Reno. Don't let those dreams be dreams and just go for it. Take life by the handlebars and run.]}

You don't have to, Reno. I offer because it's honestly something I enjoy doing. And if it wasn't obvious already...

_{[Roche busies himself with horking down more of that Good Beef Shit, and maybe it's just to let Reno dangle for a little bit. He's got to tease, you know? If he didn't, things might take a turn for Weirdboring-ville, and he ain't about that.]}

I'll give you three guesses. No hints.

Mm...

[ What is he guessing? Reno makes a face with his mouth stuffed full of delicious baby potato, then washes it down with whiskey. Man, he's fuckin'... drunk. Like drunk drunk. Not buzzed, not tipsy, not kinda on the borderline, but drunk. There's a big difference between that and smashed or shit-faced, but still. Lest we not forget, he hasn't had a drink since Gooski's. Shit's gonna hit him hard, bro.

For now, though, it just seems to embolden him to be slutty in public (not unusual) and say whatever he wants to without giving a crap who hears or how anyone feels about it (also not really unusual). ]

What, you like me? You liiiike me-like me, I mean, with hearts'n glitter. Or you wanna impress me? Or you want me to "fall for you," as you put it? Am I close? Did I get it?

[ There goes his ankle sliiiiding up the inside of Roche's calf. ]

'Cause let me tell you something, Bike Guy. I liiiike you, too. You already impressed me. And as for that last bit...

[ meaningfully trails off because two can play at that game ]

_{[He's close. Eerily close. Roche studies him for a few moments, and during that time he's content to let Reno do that with his ankle. What can he say? He's always been a physical affection kind of person, and this is preeeeeeeetty damn close. The only thing that'd be more sappy and gross is if he reached across the table for Reno's hand, but he's not doing that.

That hits different than a half-assed game of footsie when it's in a high-class establishment during a da--dinner.]}

You don't want to fall for me, babe. I promise you that.

_{[He stabs one of the last two potatoes next and waves it around as he speaks. Thank god for alcohol for taking away his filter at a time like this, right??]}

The truth is, I actually give a shit about you and I like seeing you happy.

_{[Aaaaaaaaand he's sticking the fork out across the table again. Roche can feel that lady's eyes boring holes in the back of his skull because how dare these two act out like this and maybe her own date is a bit of a bore. Whatever. Roche has the best dinner buddy right fuckin' here and he's not sharing right now.]}

Likewise.

[ Oh, falling for him is a death sentence. Literally. Just look at Tseng! Dead twice over and now his career's over! And Rude? That guy is so fucked. And anyone else? God help them. He's a curse on whoever gets stuck with him. You know what's so fucked up, though? He can't say he has any regrets. About them, or about this. Because, yeah, he... he knows. He knows what the fuck is up. He can pretend he doesn't all damn day long, but—

Aughhhh. Not now. It's just dinner.

Tell that to the big smile that stretches across Reno's face as he leans forward and bites that potato off Roche's fork, though. Not a smirk or a grin or any of that other crap, but a genuine smile. He actually wears expressions of sincerity worse than he does those shifty, cocky ones. His face just doesn't know how to attractively express such genuine displays like that, man. He's not practiced at it. ]

You keep sweet-talking me like that and I dunno if I'm gonna be able to help it, though. Better humiliate me in public or slap me around on the ride back or somethin' before I start getting too comfortable.

NO DATE ONLY DINNER (ft the junon scrubs)

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