[ Nothing is as perfect as when they're together this way, when all the workshit and lifeshit and bullshit is swept off the table onto the floor and all they've got is this. If life could be like that all the time, boy, they'd be pretty fucking happy, wouldn't they? Two peas in a sticky wet pod, just rolling all over each other all the time. They'd never get bored! Never get tired of it, surely, with such chemistry to carry them through on. It's such a lovely, perfect fake thought, and exactly the kind of nonsense Reno never allowed himself to fill his head with. Nobody had to teach it to him—not the streets, not the people who thought they could own him, not his friends, not Veld or Tseng or life in the Turks. He just always knew innately: this thing you want, it's not for you. You can't have it. It isn't safe to have it. It's a liability. It's a risk you can't afford to take.
Does he got the pocket change to afford it now? Maybe yes, maybe no, they did end up like this, after all... but maybe it suits them. Freedom suits Tseng, he thinks. He seems so alive. It's only been one week. What's another week going to look like? Or a month or a year? That curious thought makes him feel as good as the sex does. He swallows every sound, breaking to breathe and crashing back together again once, twice, and on the third time he slams his head back against the wall, teeth gritted. Thinks about darting a glance over to see if their files are done yet and decides he doesn't much care right this second. ]
I wa—
[ Are those fucking voices he hears right outside the door? Not trying to get in, he doesn't think, but passing by. Reno's breath catches in his chest, and the weight of his options is as visible as anything on his face for all of a couple seconds before he does, duh, the obvious thing, and moans like he's being fucking murdered in the most uncomprehendingly exquisite way. ]
Throw me on the fucking floor and touch me, Tseng.
[ Hahaha, oh shit. Nice, says whoever is out there in passing. Unfuckingbelievable. ]
no subject
Does he got the pocket change to afford it now? Maybe yes, maybe no, they did end up like this, after all... but maybe it suits them. Freedom suits Tseng, he thinks. He seems so alive. It's only been one week. What's another week going to look like? Or a month or a year? That curious thought makes him feel as good as the sex does. He swallows every sound, breaking to breathe and crashing back together again once, twice, and on the third time he slams his head back against the wall, teeth gritted. Thinks about darting a glance over to see if their files are done yet and decides he doesn't much care right this second. ]
I wa—
[ Are those fucking voices he hears right outside the door? Not trying to get in, he doesn't think, but passing by. Reno's breath catches in his chest, and the weight of his options is as visible as anything on his face for all of a couple seconds before he does, duh, the obvious thing, and moans like he's being fucking murdered in the most uncomprehendingly exquisite way. ]
Throw me on the fucking floor and touch me, Tseng.
[ Hahaha, oh shit. Nice, says whoever is out there in passing. Unfuckingbelievable. ]