OPEN/MINGLE — SMASHING GARDENS

[fujin]

[ 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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[electroburst]

[ 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. ]

[beenhad]

[ 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. ]

[electroburst]

[ 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.

[beenhad]

[ 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. ]

[electroburst]

[ 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??? ]