insusurro | OPEN/MINGLE — SMASHING GARDENS

OPEN/MINGLE — SMASHING GARDENS

[ Meanwhile, in the middle of the desert......

What happens when an unstoppable force meets an immoveable object? Who knows. This is more like two old, rusted Chevys trading flirting touches at low speeds. Galbadia Garden and Balamb Garden are careening into one another in a way that some of you might find all too familiar.

Maybe this happened years ago for you, maybe it hasn't happened yet, maybe you had no business being in these crazy hoverships in the first place, but regardless. You're here now and it's time to brace for impact. This one will be an even bigger problem, because there's no one at the helm of these ships. It's as if they've developed a will of their own and driven themselves into one another, sending both vessels careening into the boiling sands below.

Luckily, these things are as hardy as they are ancient. They'll both need new paint jobs and extracurricular activities will be out of the question for some time, but when the dust clears, everything is mostly intact. The Gardens will fly again. Someday.

Anyway, this is your chance to mingle somewhere that isn't Midgar. Both Gardens are smushed together, accessible through Galbadia Garden's basketball court. Maybe you want to organize a search and rescue. Or start doing damage assessment and making repairs. Maybe you wanna do some figure skating on the definitely not demon-infested hockey rink. Whatever you want, congrats, you're not in Midgar anymore. ]

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[ Just for the joy and exhilaration of being noisy in a place that could theoretically get them killed, Reno shrieks like a fucking hellcat when his back collides with the wall, absolutely delighted. This right here is exactly in his wheelhouse. Getting slammed around every possible surface of a room, leaving shit upended and ruined and in utter smoldering ruin and fucked to within a goddamn inch of his life is right up there with having his hair pulled. He love, love, loves that.

Mind you, any other time it's happened in his life, the other person was categorically hurting him and it was almost not really in the fun and enjoyable way, but he always just figured that was a shrug-offable thing when he was having so much fun being tossed about otherwise. Tseng, in fact, isn't hurting him, at least not in any way he doesn't find wholly unsatisfying (unsatisfying, because it's so fucking good he wants more and more and more), and if he wasn't so busy snarling with animal pleasure, he'd have to stop and marvel at just how soundly this one person always seems to overturn everything he thinks he knows and make him realize he's been doing it all wrong this whole time.

The tight and demanding hold he has around Tseng goes slack when they meet eyes again, that gaze like a sudden arrow to the heart. Panting, he makes some sympathetic sound he's not sure he's ever made before and bows his head forward to do as he bids. He's got some ridiculous notion that it'll be soft, but by the time he's worked their mouths together he can't rein in the insatiable hunger that makes him loose an arm from around his neck where he's hanging on for leverage, then the other a moment later, to cradle Tseng's face and pull him in and lick into his mouth with a deftness that isn't dulled in the least by his desperation. Holding on with only the strength of his legs, clamped tight against Tseng's waist and pushing himself back into the wall, is a fight against gravity, but fuck it. He can't scream like this, only whimper, reduced from words to sounds of base instinct, raw feeling. ]

[ That kiss is like the edge of a blade severing the very last of his strings. Now nothing truly matters. Not gravity, which he is handling well enough on his own, half by virtue of knowing in some hardly-won way how Reno will move and how to move him in kind to keep them both kinetic. Not their circumstances, not the stupid narrative running like an obtrusive marquee in the back of his mind, not even the need to breathe. His only concern is for Reno's tongue licking into his mouth, his hand on his face, how sweet he sounds when Tseng rocks into him and it's so good that he can feel them both trembling in unison.

He thinks he must look awful. Pained and frantic. Still doesn't care. Honesty is what Reno deserves here; let him discover every carnal clue in how roughly and hungrily he ruts against him, let him see how much needs this, how terribly he needs Reno in every capacity he has to give. If this is the last thing he ever tells him, he wants it to be indisputable.

And somehow, no matter how much it pulls from him, he's still aware that it isn't enough. He traps Reno soundly against the wall with his hips and with his hands, lances as soundly and deeply into him as he possibly can, and there at least he can impart that much. The fuller shape of Reno's ass has him crumpling his face in euphoric agony as he grinds hard against it, as if he means to embed himself deeper than he ever has. The half-buried sounds he makes against Reno's mouth turn frantic and raw, less like a rough refrain before the end and more like something that always was, revealed in full. ]

[ 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. ]

[ Tseng's eyes dart toward the gun on the table the second he hears voices. What an un-turk-like dilemma, being stranded so far away from firepower. Good thing he resigned before he threw the whole season. He considers going for it, and then Reno lets loose that resounding scream, and Tseng feels his heart start to race and his face light up all at once.

Yeah. This is him. The batshit fuckwild shrieking banshee of his dreams. Tseng wastes no time throwing him to the ground. ]

You're fucking crazy.

[ He says it the same way he said I love you that first time, breathless, with more pathos than he's ever expended in his life. It's not even voluntary; Reno draws this shit out of him, the same way looking at him now sinks his stomach in that free-falling vertigo kind of way, as if he's never touched him before, as if all of this is new and fresh and he can't wait for them to go out together, bright and explosive like dying stars. Everything else looks so colorless in comparison. Nothing else feels so real, so vivid, so alive.

But Reno does, with skin so hot it's nearly molten beneath his smoothing hands, his body like a furnace as he eases himself back inside. He can still hear them talking out there ("Nah!! Don't go in there. I think Dan's porkin' that newbie from Dollet.") but it's not doing much to kill the crazed edge to his grin. ]

More.

[ He drags his palm over his tongue and wraps his fingers around Reno's cock, jerking in time with each brutal slam of his hips. The light in his eyes has turned to wildfire now. This has never been an option before, turning Reno out in such a shamefully public venue, showing everyone what they are and precisely what that fucking means. If he wasn't inspired to rattle every last sound out of Reno until his ears are ringing before, he is now. ]

Let them hear everything.

[ Reno manages a bout of raucous laughter between gasps and pants as he hits the floor and is descended upon all over again, aching already and sure he'll be bruised and limping by tomorrow. He howls when Tseng pushes back in, grasping at him, grasping at the floor, back arched and legs splayed wide only to come closed against either side of Tseng's hips and urge him in with the tight squeeze of his thighs. He's got such a hold on him with those legs he could probably flip them over with that alone, but there's no such need for that kind of theatrics when it's so fucking good like it is, his head snapped back to expose his throat—and to direct his screaming right up at the ceiling.

Speaking of theatrics, is some of this that, a little? Yes, some, in the sense that there is no absolute demanding need to be quite that loud, and also now they have a potentially dangerous audience to entertain, but it isn't shrieking just to shriek. The absolutely pornographic moans and cries and yelps at Tseng's name or any of the other things he says that sound fresh outta Pornhub (oh, fuck, you're so good, that's it, yesss, fuck me— harder—) are part of the show, it's true, but none of them are lies. None of it is forced. This is, if nothing else, just an opportunity to let it all out. Why fucking not scream and say everything he wants and let Tseng know without so much as a shadow of a doubt how much he's loving it? And it might make him laugh, as a bonus, might get them killed, as another bonus, and it'll leave his throat raw, as the best bonus.

His eyes fix on the door for only a second or two right when he hits that point of no return. Anything else, he can spring to action from. But being caught in the web of an absolute fuckstorm of an orgasm, like he's about to be—that's total vulnerability. He's helpless as a sexkitten. To be honest he can't even make out if the voices are still there or if he's imagining them anymore, but to hell with it. Reno gives himself over to fate with one last strangled cry, shuddering and hiccuping, twitching and tight. And tears—some tears he'd kind of hoped to skip over this time, his lower lip trembling as the incomplete wiring in his brain sends all those rushing chemicals to the wrong places. That's alright, though. That's honest, too. ]

[ Everything about this is shit that Tseng hates. The loudness just to be loud, the breach of privacy, the fact that he's on his knees on the fucking floor. It really compounds the fact that things have changed, irrevocably and surprisingly, when he finds himself gasping desperately for air beneath the echoed din of Reno's yelps ringing off the walls, when his hands clench tight and he finds he can't stop moving no matter how uncomfortable it is, no matter how much this shouldn't be doing it for him. Is it just a Reno thing, this morphing of ideas and circumstances that he's severely averse to, converted into thrills he's never even fucking imagined? Or is it just a part of how much he's broken now, because oh man, that option's a real contender.

Maybe it's both. Suddenly, it doesn't matter. Reno cinches around him like a snake and all the air squeezes out of his lungs. The pressure around his dick goes tight and grinding. Tseng knows exactly what that means. He ignores the peppered shadows dotting his eyes and grits his teeth, leaning over Reno's twisting body. No, a better place to bite down would be his throat, wide open and exposed, the perfect place to anchor himself while he fucks him hard enough to keep moving through the merciless clench of his muscles. His growls rumble right through Reno's skin. His mind goes blissfully silent but for this primal mantra of bite lick fuck harder harder faster almost.

In the end, Tseng fails to uphold his side of the show. He doesn't hit climax so much as it is ripped from him; Reno goes tighter than ever before and there's no breaking through it, nothing he can do but lay within him and feel the riot of contractions that happen in the wake of him spilling into Tseng's hand. Probably couldn't pull out if he wanted to. He doesn't want to. He goes right for the place he automatically goes every time, fitting his face into the crook of Reno's neck, burying the short, sharp sound he makes in his skin. Feels like it lasts forever too, his hands holding Reno just so against him so he's buried deep while he pulses inside, a perfect cradle of warmth and wetness.

And then holy fuck, he's exhausted. And giggling his ass off, suddenly. Is that applause he's hearing? If he could lift his head, he'd be shaking it. ]

[ Ha, imagine that. The last time anyone applauded him getting fucking wrecked on the floor he was about nineteen years younger and the Honeybee hadn't yet seen the graceful touch of Andrea Rhodea's remarkably clean business practices. Reno laughs breathlessly between snivel-hics, sniffle-laughing, the relentless grasp of his body and limbs around Tseng falling away to lay there limp and spent for as long as it takes him to wipe his eyes and finish giggleboohooing. It's hard to help grinning with Tseng losing it overtop of him. Having someone laugh while they're coming in you is, like, a really special feeling that can't be put into words.

God, he's so in love. This world deserves to burn straight to the core. ]

Got your giggledick real good that time, crazyface.

[ God why! Is he still! Sobbing! Rather than waste time wiping his eyes, he props himself on his elbow to nudge his wet nose against Tseng's decidedly less wet one, grinning from ear to ear. ]

You're soooo beautiful.

[ Tseng frames his hands around Reno's adorably crumpled and tear-stained face and leans them right back down to the ground again. Did he say they were done? No. Back to ground zero. ]

It's not...

[ Trying to explain what he finds so funny is a task. There's a simple explanation, but it's hard to get it out when he's still buried deep inside Reno, feeling him gigglingsobbing from the inside out, which makes it even funnier somehow. Look, for once they're both tearing up. Tseng presses their foreheads together for a second to deliver the sentiment that Reno deserves right now that is being soundly disrupted by whatever's on his mind.

Finally, he works up the will to say it. He can manage the one word. That's all. Reno will get it. ]

Squoze—

[ Fuck this he's going back to his spot against Reno's neck to kill himself with laughter in peace. ]

[ ah fuck. he really should have seen squoze coming. reno brays, unexpectedly, like an ass, cackles like a jackal. gigglehicsobbing, no. just out-and-out squawking like a vulture, yes. all four of his limbs regain enough strength in their rubbery muscles to squozetight around tseng again, serving the purpose of both a sort of playful embrace (kinda? whatever) and some kind of sisyphean torture where he snickerstrangles the life out of him when he's already spent. ]

Heh, hey, I'm glad we figured out your ultimate kink is actually the aftersquozin'. I'm kinda partial to the chucklefucking, myself, though, gotta say. Kinda feels like your dick's tryna peck back up all the seeds but can't stop spitting them all back out straight into my insides every time you cut another soblaugh. This is hot as hell. You wanna go another round?

[ they need to fucking leave??? ]

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OPEN/MINGLE — SMASHING GARDENS

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