Techno begets bad dancing.

"Lesson one- everyone thinks that exact same thing," Reno confides with a snicker. "If people was payin' enough attention to laugh at anyone else, there'd be hella fightin' goin' on. Y'might even be better off thinkin' of it like yer fightin' or mebbe fuckin'. Moves kinna flow like that- I seen ya move inna middle o'ground zero on missions b'fore." He stands when Rude's third drink is gone, holding out his hand before a fourth one can be called for. "C'mon. Nobody gonna laugh. Guy like you, easy on the eyes, ever'buddy wanna teach ya to dance- 'least I get the first shot, huh?"

Rude coughs a little when Reno mentions that dancing is like fucking. Yeah, his partner had seen him fight before but he'd never seen him....Rude feels the heat creep into his face again. He wants to see Reno dance. Wants to just sit here in a dark corner and watch the redhead move with all that grace like his own private show but he knows Reno won't accept that. Rude looks at the offered hand and lets out a slow sigh that seems to deflate him. The compliment catches him off guard though and Rude looks up at Reno with his mouth slightly agape. Did his partner just call him attractive? ' Calm down, Rude...he wasn't making a pass. Just an observation.' Rude finds himself wholly disappointed with that thought. He doesn't want anyone else teaching him how to dance. He just wants Reno. The hand in front of him is a golden opportunity that the shy man has to fight to accept. He can spend a few hours being far too close to Reno for comfort or he can leave now and lose the chance for something he desperately wants. Maybe it's the drinks or the lights flickering or the way those bright blue eyes are reaching into his body and taking a hold of his spine to force him into movement but Rude reaches out tentatively to take the offered hand. Reno's palm is a little sweaty and warm to the touch. Rude can feel the calloused spots where the redhead's gun is normally held and he feels the strength in the grip. It makes his heart beat faster. Normally, he would be wearing gloves if they were on a mission but this is the first time he's taken Reno's hand without the thick leather between them. It blows away all the other memories he has of Reno reaching out to help him up the side of a building or over a fence.

Rude slides off his seat and trails close behind his partner, glancing nervously around the dancefloor. Teens and twentysomethings gyrate and writhe to a beat that vibrates the very floor they're standing on and the heat of bodies packed together hits Rude head on. He concentrates on the only thing he wants to think about and stares at the halo of red hair that leads him out into the throng.


Reno's grip is just as sure as it is on a mission, even without the protection of the gloves. Behind his own eyes, in the safety of his imagination, he curls over the huge hand and pulls it around himself like a protective blanket; outwardly, he merely leads Rude to a thicket of dancers before easing them both around to face each other with the same cocksure expression he always adopts before things get chaotic on the job. He prods at Rude's hips the same way he did the arms earlier at the bar, swaying slowly with Rude to the faster beat of a new song, though still in the same rhythm. "Don't worry 'bout your feet juss' yet," he calls over the din, trying to keep his in place to show Rude what he's talking about. After several moments, he begins moving his shoulders in a slightly more complicated rock, nodding to Rude and rubbing at his sides as indication to follow suit whenever he's ready. "Juss' let your mind move ya the way y'hear the music tellin' it to. There ain't no right way an' wrong way to dance in places like these. It's all about yer comfort zone an' lettin' the air in the place move around ya."

And true to his words, Reno lets the music take him though his eyes remain on his partner, his own feet barely budging to accommodate the need for balance as his upper body weaves through the air like so much flexible debris in flowing water. Even though his ratty tank and jeans stand out like a sore thumb among the rest of the gaudy, glittering wardrobe across the floor, he looks more indigenous to the floor than the pulsing mob surrounding them, and somehow, people in the closer vicinity can't help but relax and move more loosely in his wake. A few try coming up to blend in with his dance and even with Rude, but Reno easily deflects them with subtle changes in his flow and shifting closer to his partner to protect him from people who think he's up for grabs. In a mental state like this, Reno's dance partner is his property, no matter who it is; if he can keep it up, he can almost pretend Rude is doing this to be with him, rather than just learning to dance. The simple reverie warms him around the edges and causes a dreaming smile to seep over his face and sink into it as he dances, his body unwittingly moving even closer to Rude's and swaying against it.

Rude tries hard to relax but the way Reno is touching him is making it hard to do. He struggles to keep his face a mask of calm and watches Reno rock and glide through the air like living liquid. The hands on his hips, up his sides, all around him leave Rude's head spinning a little more than he's used to and he tries to block out all the extra sensory overload as he watches his partner's graceful moving. The words sink in a little at a time and he is grateful when Reno fends off those who try to come over and dance with him. He relaxes a little more as he sees that Reno is avoiding all the other possible dance partners who would be thrilled to take Rude's place. Maybe Reno is content to just be with him. Rude almost lets the thought go until Reno's body is suddenly far closer than it was a moment ago and the way the red head slithers across his chest leaves the larger man suddenly all too aware of every inch of his skin. He tries to just concentrate on still moving the way Reno tells him and the smaller man's hypnotic rocking helps a lot. With a slow exhalation of breath, Rude steps off the edge of a precipice in his own mind. The drinks start to kick in a little more on his empty stomach than they would normally and it doesn't take long before he finds the rhythm that Reno is talking about. He begins to dip and roil against his partner's chest, mirroring Reno's own body far too naturally. He has spent so long watching Reno out in the field and learning his body language that he has come to be able to almost gauge the next move before Reno makes it. Subtle hints in the man's muscles give it all away and Rude finds that dancing IS a lot like being out on the battle fields with Reno. They both move in tandem, a perfect swaying of their bodies and Rude looses himself to the moment. He ignores the looks they are getting from others and the pair move with such a perfect unison that most of those who would have come to hit on them think better of it. These two obviously are together. Rude's hand moves before he can even think about it, an instinct reaction, and suddenly one large arm is wrapped around Reno's slender waist, pulling the other man closer to him.

The warm feeling tumbles in from the edges to roll across his belly where the arm circles to pull him closer, and Reno's hands rise over his head to cup the back of Rude's neck, his head turning to smile up his shoulder even though his eyes are closed now. His movement slows and his feet begin to step in a more lively fashion to make up for the restriction in the rest of his body. He can feel Rude move with him, knows Rude's found his go point, and when his mind gives him a nudge to remind him that he's supposed to be teaching Rude, he's proud of his partner for working into it so easily. "See?" he beams in that same breathless voice he answered the phone with less than an hour ago, albeit much happier than the tone he'd used before. "S'not so hard. Y'doin' real good, Rude. Like a champ. Juss' keep movin' with me, y'doin' great. Feels so good finally dancin' with ya." He doesn't even notice the admission slip, caught up in the rhythm, the touch, the scent of the man he kills with, would kill for, the heat on his back and the coveted heart pounding behind his shoulder. To Reno, it's all the same- dance, sex, fights, kills. His body works him into the same chemicals, his reflexes act the same way, he gets the same mental high. Finally, his awareness swells him with the fact that he's hit three out of four of his life's greatest experiences with the man of his dreams. If Rude never touches him again after this, he's at least got these sensations to remember and die happy with.

Rude's rhythm falters for only a second at the admission. He makes up for it quickly and gets back into the rhythm but his eyes look down to watch that lazy happy smile playing across Reno's face. So beautiful. The hands on the back of his neck have the hair on his arms standing on end and his heart is pounding far too hard for the dance they are partaking in. Reno just admitted that he had been wanting this. Men don't want to dance with other men unless they're interested, right? And apparently Reno had been looking for this physical closeness for a while. There's a sensation in the back of Rude's ribcage like someone popping a warm waterballoon inside. All the fear, all the tension seems to melt off. He had to be right. He had to. Reno wouldn't just say that, not to his partner. He wouldn't just fuck with Rude that way. The dark skinned man had taken a lot of flak and had been the brunt end of many of Reno's jokes but the redhead had never done anything like this. Nothing that would hurt Rude. The larger man's mind works a mile a minute, fogging only slightly around the edges from the drinks, before he takes a chance he never thought he would. Rude's free hand comes up and he ghosts his fingers over Reno's cheek before cupping it and tilting the man's head up. Rude dips ever so slightly and presses his own to the man he's been dreaming about for years. He nips at Reno's lower lip and then withdraws, a soft gentle kiss.

The kiss is met with a half-surprised bubbling noise at the back of his throat and a sharp intake of breath, but Reno's eyes never open. When his mouth is released, he can taste the change in the air as if the meaning and consequences of what had just happened were a sprint through the fairway of a carnival. The gravity sends goosebumps down his arms and a tingle across the nape of his neck. There's the mythical typical twitch in his groin, but when Reno feels the way he's felt for Rude since the early days of their partnership, his dick's got nothing on his heart in the face of a revelation like this. He's only fallen this way for two people in his life before ShinRa took it over, and after two different disasters, he's treated this crush like a feral animal stuck in a trap. The concept of letting the creature go is mind-blowing; nonetheless, he takes the opportunity between songs to twist himself around to face Rude and grip handfuls of his shirt without jarring the man's arms off him, finding no need for words- just like he finds in every crucial situation they've been in together for years. He forces the dance to slow down, accommodating the music above them, and pulls Rude down for a kiss of his own, hesitantly returning the nibble and letting their lips linger together as long as Rude will allow him to stay there.

Rude worries at first when he hears the intake of breath. There's the chance that he misjudged, that he stepped over the invisible line that will now separate them forever but when the redhead doesn't break away, Rude lets himself relax again. He let's his fingers slip over Reno's skin and shirt as the man turns in his arms, always making contact, always holding. He pulls Reno in close, cradling him in a protective embrace that tells the rest of the world in no uncertain terms that Reno is taken. Only Reno can change that in Rude's mind now. The redhead doesn't say anything to him, just curls into his chest and fists into his shirt, and that says volumes more than any words either of them could have managed. Rude loves the feel of this man in his arms. His partner, his friend. He can't imagine now not having the boisterous redhead near him. As the music slows, Rude lets Reno direct the pace, allowing him to guide where they go. The slower music is something Rude knows well enough how to dance to without any instruction and he relaxes into it. When Reno's hands find their way up to draw him down once more, Rude lets himself be pulled, bending to come within easier reach. Reno's kiss confirms everything Rude suspected during their first dance, everything he'd been hoping for in the years they'd been together, and all the rest of Rude's fear and apprehension fall away. He presses the kiss only slightly, tasting gently and encouraging Reno. He wants the other man to know that he understands now. That all the looks he'd misread, the changes he'd heard in Reno's voice, the way Reno's mood would shift in his company, he understands them now. He ony wishes he'd gotten the hint earlier. He can't say what's going to happen tomorrow but for now, he has Reno in his arms and that makes the world ok again. Rude pulls him closer, supporting him and keeping the rest of the world at bay.

Reno lets it go only to press up for another kiss, and then another, and three more before he's finally satisfied that Rude is responding of his own volition. For another half hour or so, they dance without the talk until the buzz is worked out of their heads- Rude needs no more lessons, it seems, as long as Reno is guiding him, and Reno needs no attention beyond that of his partner. Eventually, he steers them toward the edge of the crowd, away from the bar, and to one of the cocktail booths edging the club, where he slides into the seat and pulls Rude in after him. If they can deal with the idea when they're sobered and fatigued, then they can deal with it every day, right? He leans up from his slouch against the wall and, still catching his breath from the exertion on the floor, covers the side of Rude's face with more tiny kisses, the way he's wanted to do every time he sees the bigger man glooming down over paperwork or a bad job. "How long?" he finally murmurs, nosing against Rude's armored ear. "How long y'been like this an' I plumb passed it on without even knowin'?"

Rude responds gladly to every kiss sent his way. He moans into a few of them ever so softly, a sound of contentment, and his hands rub reassuringly over Reno's back as they dance. When the music slows again, Reno leads him from the dancefloor and Rude follows without a second thought. He slips into the seat next to his partner and uses his own body to shield off the rest of the world. The alcohol didn't last long in light of his size and all the sweating and dancing, so by the time they sit, he's completely sober. He sighs and leans into the kisses against his cheek. Reno is there, warm and not upset with him, and Rude is sure this was the best decision of his life. The whisper of Reno's voice drifts across his ear the way it has in so many daydreams but this time is real. Rude allows himself a small smile and wraps his closest arm around the smaller man again. "About a year and a half," he admits quietly, feeling immensely foolish for not having said anything earlier. He's almost afraid of the answer he'll get but curiosity and self abuse make him ask anyway. "You?"

He's glad he kept his mouth shut as long as he did, then. He winces slightly when Rude asks, feeling foolish indeed and huddling in for a moment before he has the balls to answer. "Four'n a half... maybe five years," he admits. "I s'pose tryin'a get you to come outside with me alla time sorta growed on me after awhile, huh?" Even under the serious weight of confession, he can't help but turn a slight twist of humor onto it to make the situation easier for the both of them to digest, maybe to turn what he's starting to consider ashamedly as obsession into something easy to laugh about and sweep under the rug. "Least now I don't gotta watch ya go home with some bimbo," he observes as an afterthought, grinning.

Rude snorts at the last comment. He hadn't taken a woman home with him in a little over two years. He'd stopped finding the heart to bed them, the meaningless faces one after another, and it had only been 6 months later that he had come to realize why the women no longer turned him on. He'd fallen instead for his partner. He's grateful for the humor Reno offers at the end of his statement, it helps ease the shock of learning just how long Reno had harbored a crush on him. Oh sure, he'd thought the redhead was handsome as hell when they'd first met, but he hadn't every figured Reno would be into him and truth be told, he had been rather annoyed with his new partner for a long while. Reno wasn't exactly easy to get used to. Still, the boisterous Turk grew on most people until they couldn't imagine not having him there to crack one of his dark humored jokes. Rude smiles softly in the flickering lights and looks over at his partner. "Never again," he whispers almost too softly for Reno to hear. He brushes his thumb along the side of Reno's face and shakes his head. "Only one I'm taking home from now on is you...if you'll let me." Rude had to admit he was flattered that Reno had held a torch for him for so long. He knew he wasn't exactly the easiest person to get along with either and it surprised him that Reno hadn't found someone else when Rude had remained oblivious to his partner's desire for so long.

Reno closes his eyes and rests his face against Rude's hand, the grin falling into a genuine smile again, rather than the smug satisfaction he displays any other time he gets his way. It's worth the years of backstepping and daydreams and dead-end flings and, most importantly, most tiringly, wearing the man down to be comfortable around him. It was worth all of that and more to hear these words. To anyone else with Reno's viewpoints, luck and talents, this would feel like a victory. Hell, his few times in love felt that way, but maybe that was the problem- look where they went, and look where he is now that it doesn't. It's more of a comfortable niche he's been carving for himself and Rude to curl up in, and victory isn't really what you feel when you lay down a shovel you've been digging with as long as he's been. He finds he likes this feeling a lot better than he likes victory.

His eyes study the man before him while he thinks, though not in a skeptical manner, and his hands idly curl around Rude's arm, pulling the thumb around to kiss lightly at it before something flickers over his mind to leave a trailing change in his expression. "...that mean you're takin' me there tonight?" he inquires, another hopeful note in his tone. He's been to Rude's house exactly once- or, much rather, outside of Rude's house exactly once. Rude's never agreed to hang out at Reno's place either, come to think of it. His brows rise slightly, coupling with the faint upturn of his mouth, to give away his opinion of the possibilities.