Happy Birthday was made for you

Rude's tension eases slightly when he can feel Reno relax around him. He doesn't know much about this, except he wished the other man had been this patient with him, as he learned to be with himself for the short time he was trying to train himself out of it. Reno's discomfort is very familiar, and Rude can only do what he remembers doing to tamp down his own in the past- move slowly and pay attention.

His other hand slows and stills on himself as he focuses his concentration, probing with his finger in time with the movement of his head, until he's managed to hit the last knuckle with the taut wall of skin. Rude gives two or three gentle warning pumps before turning his wrist and curling his finger into a hook and dragging the pad roughly against the wall opposite the taint, watching Reno closely.

He withdraws his mouth once more and nestles the shaft against the line of his cheek, panting. "Let it go, Reno," he whispers, savoring the name as it burns off his lips like vapors from a cinnamon candy. He doesn't seem to be referring to the muscles inside, not in that tone of voice. "Let it go for me."

And he licks, now comfortably, back onto the cock, sucking hard just at the crown and probing the slit with his tongue. He wants more. He wants to see Reno lose his cool, lose his words, before Rude loses his own.


The gentle prodding of Rude's finger eventually coaxes Reno into relaxing enough to let him inside. The feeling is odd to say the least, like he's got to go to the bathroom at first and it's anything but sexy. He can feel the muscles there resisting the intrusion, insisting that this is an exit only and his body tries to force Rude back any way it can.

It takes a few good strokes that move in tandem with the suckling at his dick for it to start feeling less odd and more like just being filled. He can't begin to compare it to anything else he's ever felt and he hisses when it slides all the way home but he fights down the urge to squirm up the couch and away from that finger by repeating the mantra that Rude wouldn't do anything to him that would feel bad.

Reno isn't sure really how long it's supposed to take before he can become used to this and he grunts with each pump as that bothersome voice in his mind reminds that this is just one finger. If the truck had been any indication, he was going to have something as big as his EMR shoved up there soon and that thought does little to comfort as he writhes on the couch, unsure if the pleasure can outweigh the oddness of this feeling.

When Rude turns his finger to press roughly against something inside him though, Reno forgets for a moment that this was anything but enjoyable and that muffled pleasure he felt from outside when Rude had rubbed his thumb below Reno's sac is now back, this time in a far more clear version. Reno lets out a small whine through gritted teeth and his fingers twitch on Rude's shoulder as the stroke wakes something inside that he hadn't known was there.

Reno had never researched gay sex, never had a reason to, and he hadn't known what kind of pleasure a guy could really get from being plugged in the ass by some other dude, but Rude has just laid out a big sign for him that screams how good this has the potential to be.

Reno lets out a short, hoarse cry and tugs at his wrists in the need to grab something to keep himself from lifting off as that spot is rubbed again and again, sparking something straight up into his gut that makes him want to tell Rude it's too much. Instead he hears Rude's voice, hears that rough growl, that command that even whispered holds so many promises if Reno just gives in and he swears he's never heard anything that sexy in his life. Too much is never enough.

As his cock is engulfed once more and the tease of a tongue against his slit assaults his senses, Rude's finger starts working that strange spot inside again and Reno finds himself begging for more instead of trying to get away from the intrusion. His hips shift in time with the bob of both finger and mouth and he's soon enough fucking himself on Rude's hand as much as his partner is pumping on his own.

He can feel Rude's other fingers brush the cheeks on either side and that only adds to the feeling of everything else that's happening below his waist. "AH...AH........Rude......oh gods.......oh fuck....what the fuck is.....oh gods.........hittin' somethin'...yer...fuck.........so fuckin' good......oh fuck Rude.........Ungh.......UHH......AHHHH......."

Reno's words are stolen away leaving only pure cries in their wake. He slams the doors on all his inhibitions, refusing them in light of Rude's request, and he lets himself enjoy the steady build of that electricity in his stomach, his body writhing and sweaty fingers slipping across the smooth skin on Rude's head as he desperately seeks something to hold on to.


Rude moves his head to meet with Reno's hands inside his rhythm, stretching the already-taut flesh of the cock in his mouth without relinquishing it. His finger keeps moving, pressing and rubbing, wrist bending to keep up with Reno's bucking, and once his mind has efficiently eliminated his own erection as something worth his attention, his other hand drifts back up to hold onto a slender hip before stroking its way up Reno's side and tucking under him to grip his back.

Rude uses this loose leverage to rock Reno's body closer to him, working with the way he moves to make it easier. His awareness twitches when it hears the creak of sweat running over leather underneath the gorgeous cacophony from the devil himself. Rude's fingers turn in when he has Reno close enough, and neatly trimmed nails still find a way to dig noticeably into the soft skin over the spine, dragging a rough path down Reno's back and turning to scratch just above his ass before curling his arm over it and cradling it.

Rude's thumb stretches up from the focal point of the rest of his hand to hook over the sack and rub at the base of the cock again, silently willing Reno closer. He wants more- he wants to taste more, hear more, feel more, TAKE more of Reno, covet and steal and keep him, bring him to this kind of abandon every chance he gets, learn to be this way himself.

He closes his eyes as he sucks even harder, dipping his head to take in more and begin bobbing again. Reno has been all he's thought, wanted, dreamed of for all these months, and instead of losing interest once he had what he wanted like so many people do, Rude only wants more fervently.


The multitude of sensations that rock his body from head to toe are almost more than Reno can take. It feels like everything between his waist and his thighs is alight and tingling, centered around the nexus of his groin. Pressure and electricity build in his lower abs, flaring up from his pelvis with each pump of Rude's finger, scrape of teeth on his cock and the pull of sensitive skin as Rude bobs his head.

Reno can't help the noises that fall from his lips at this point, his body writhing as he tries to keep up with the build of sensations only to find himself slipping farther and farther out of control. Suddenly Rude's other hand is on him, one more chord in a symphony of different physical experiences that tears a bit more of Reno's concentration away.

He finds himself utterly at Rude's mercy, unable to stop or even slow the train he's on even if he wanted to as Rude works him to the very edge, threatening to spill him over at any second. Strong fingers work against his hip and up his ribs before slipping under and across sweat soaked skin. Strong fingers grip into his back, hooking into muscles pulled tight with exertion, tugging him farther toward the source of all that consumes his world right now, and then laying trails of sweet fire in their wake.

The tracks that follow Rude's path down to his ass burn with the tinge of salt that is ground into them from the slicked leather beneath but it's a good sort of pain that Reno can appreciate and he returns the favor over the flesh of Rude's shoulder. He finds his lower back lifted from the couch and curled over one well toned arm and he can feel the sliding of muscle under flesh as Rude turns his wrist in to touch again.

The curl of his partner's forearm forces Reno to lift his knees and expose himself all the more to the finger pushing at his backside even as Rude's thumb now rubs at the base of his cock. It's the last nudge needed, that feeling of giving himself over to Rude, to being taken completely in a way he can't and doesn't even want to try to fight anymore, and Reno arches up hard on the couch, his head slamming back into the leather and his back curling upward as his hands push down on Rude's head in an action that is half trying to push away and half trying to stuff the rest of his cock down Rude's throat.

Coherent thought flies right out the window as the spring in his stomach uncoils and doesn't so much push him over the edge as it does shove him bodily and a strangled noise caught between a scream and what sounds like it could have been the cry of Rude's name erupts from Reno's throat.

He releases into Rude's mouth, his hips and legs jerking in uncontrolled spasms that he can't subdue and he wrenches his hands down to Rude's shoulder as what tiny part of him that is still capable of thought reminds that Rude might not appreciate having his head forced.


The push to his head causes Rude to growl and pull away slightly before he controls himself again and lets it happen, allowing Reno's force to guide him instead of shove. The dance and crescendo of Reno's reactions reach into the pit of his stomach and twist in an entirely different way than his nervous sickness episodes- a much more pleasant way.

He finds the muted pop of a joint in his finger from the impossible squeeze sort of amusing, and stills his hand so he won't wrench or scratch anything unbidden. The taste hits before the sounds, and he cringes a little at it before he accepts it and leans up, hanging his head to let himself swallow properly around a couple of muffled coughs.

If he tries hard enough, he can almost taste the alcohol in the bitter, meaty mix of taste washing through him. If he tried hard enough, he could probably get drunk on it, drunk on Reno himself... but Rude finds he enjoys a lucid loss of inhibition far more than the idea of forgetting in the morning.

His name. He closes his eyes and replays that sound behind his ears as Reno moves and curls around him. It could have been his name, though the chances of that are slim. He prefers to think it was- it causes an unsettling twitch in his chest that he wouldn't mind feeling again.

He realizes that he feels it sometimes anyway- when he finds a cup of coffee on his desk in the mornings once in a while, strong enough to have been brewed with way too much ground and stirred with just a little sugar the way he always drinks it, or every time he finds Reno moving on the same wavelength as him even when they're not on a mission- symmetry without the weight of obligation. When Reno finally takes his hands from Rude's head now, Rude rolls the member out of his mouth gently with his tongue, sucking it clean along the way.

He pulls his finger free of the trap, tamping down another cringe, and turns to grab a tissue from his coffee table, discreetly wiping his finger clean out of sight as he leans over Reno to regard the flushed face with something between fascination and admiration. "You act like you've never been touched before," he observes, a faint note of curiosity in his tone.


Reno's chest is heaving, burning with the exertion of each breath as he works to bring his body back under his own command. His legs and hips continue to twitch even after the last of the orgasm dies down and it feels like someone else ( Rude) is pulling the marionette strings that move him. His ability to form words has been temporarily stolen and shivers race up and down his body, riding the waves of each panted breath that leaves him.

Reno sucks in a harsh breath when Reno vacates his body and for some reason he feels little emptier now, as if he's just discovered a hollow spot inside him he never knew existed till Rude filled it. His pants are still tangled in a mess around his knees and as he lays on the couch in the ebb of orgasm, he decides against pulling them up. With any other lover, Reno might have been tempted, he'd walked out on many a lover within moments after they had coupled before....but again, that familiar mantra plays through his head and Reno knows that this isn't just anyone, it's Rude, and he not only can't just walk out, he doesn't WANT to.

The climax mingles well with the alcohol saturating his thoughts and in that moment, Reno is sure he'd actually prefer to spend the night in Rude's room. He'd never slept a whole night at someone else's side, preferring to sneak out before morning, sobriety, and regrets had a chance to catch up but now the idea of going back to his own tiny apartment with its mess and that lonely bed seems like an unbearable choice.

His eyelids flutter for a moment and he lets his head loll before the shifting of the couch beneath him signals Rude's presence over him. Even before, Reno opens his eyes, he can FEEL that weight hanging above him, suspended and protective. He squints open one eye, his breathing already almost back to normal due to years of physical training, and peers up at Rude. He's beginning to hate those damned glasses. They fill his vision and block him from seeing Rude's reaction to all this, presenting to him only the silent, stone hard killer that he's used to working with.

It isn't till Reno really studies his partner's face that he can see the note of some unidentified emotion there, interest or fascination, maybe? The question catches him a bit off guard, it wasn't what he'd expected, and he stares at Rude for a second as he tries to gather enough of his thoughts to put forth something typically witty. Instead, he can only manage to croak out the words "Firss' man" and "Not like that...nothing like that b'fore...." He takes a few more steadying breaths and then grins up at his partner. "So ya gonna untie me, now? I can't exactly do much for ya like this, partner."