Happy Birthday was made for you

A/N: Sorry I suck at titles. >___< So, yeah. This is the next installment in this series. I was going to abandon it entirely but I was poked by someone who reviewed and was kind enough to let me know it was still being read. :) I hope you guys enjoy the rest.



Disclaimer: The usual, Reno and Rude don't belong to me but gods do I love 'em. ^___^



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Rude at first wants to correct Reno, let him know he didn't think he failed in the least, but the eyes catch him. They just shared a singularly intense experience together, pleasure and trust and satisfaction all in the same hand, but Reno's eyes have become just as desolate and depressed as they were when Rude first walked into the office today to take him out. Rude's brow furrows, and his mind works again to suggest he ask what's wrong, and then he hears Reno's barely audible welcome- sounding nothing like the brazen demanding partner of minutes, even seconds ago. "...Reno?" he ventures quietly, shifting himself to better look the redhead in the face.



The pit of his chest cringes into itself and throbs unpleasantly when he hears the tone in Reno's voice, idly contemplating leaving this sanctuary even for a few minutes- the tone suggests leaving and not coming back. Absently, his hand withdraws a little to rub gently down Reno's front, mess and all, and gently loosen the tie to pull it free from his nethers. He pushes it over the edge of the bed to get it out of the way and his arm slips back into its prior position, wrist turning to seek Reno's hand and pull the fingers back over it like a blanket. Rude tries in vain to think of excuses to keep Reno from getting up, walking out, forgetting tonight happened. He knows it's selfish, but... he wants to be remembered. He wants Reno to wake up sober and remember that Rude won't always say no to outings, won't always stay hidden behind his work and his mask... won't always hide his face. Not anymore.



And then Rude remembers the perfect excuse. He offers something as close to a smile as he can, not bringing Reno's upset into the spotlight to make him feel weak or inadequate with. He doesn't know what caused the hurt in those eyes, but he knows he doesn't want it to be there anymore. He tucks his head forward to press his forehead against Reno's ear and remind him in little more than a whisper, "I said you're not touching yourself tonight. If you feel like a mess... then let me help clean you. I can... I can wash your hair, I can change the blanket. Don't..." He pauses and takes a deep breath, hoping Reno won't think the statement too clingy for comfort. "...don't go. I don't... I don't want to spend your birthday without you."





Reno manages to look up at the soft calling of his name only to find himself trapped in those deep grays suddenly hovering over him. He winces slightly when the tie is finally pulled free and notes it's progress to the floor with a bit of surprise. This is the second mess Rude's made in his pristine house so far tonight and that fact alone attests to the man's emotional state of mind. Reno half expects his lover to hop out of bed and begin fussing over the strewn clothes and wet sheets the same way he does when Elena comes into their office when he's out and rearranges something. The change in demeanor doesn't happen though and instead a strong arm is curled back around him, much to his unconfessed relief. Reno can't bring himself to ask for it, but he's grateful the affection is given regardless and he lets his fingers be guided back to rest on top of Rude's. He stares hard at their hands, cream on top of coffee, and it strikes him how completely different those hands are. Rude's is strong and large, with fingers capable of crushing windpipes in the blink of an eye, and while Reno's is far from feminine by any means, his hand looks relatively small by comparison. His fingers are longer, more agile than his partner's and his knuckles are smaller from less physical fighting than Rude. It's not that he hasn't been in his fair share of fights, but he also doesn't beat the hell out of a boxing bag every day and he supposes that's what makes the difference.



His thoughts are derailed by the shift in Rude's body and mood. Soft deep breathing suddenly fills his left ear and Reno lets his eyes shut to take in the thunder's rumble that he hears there, formed into words just for him. He can't see the smile on his partner's face but with Rude it wasn't necessary; Reno could hear it in his voice. It washes over him as a relief when Rude doesn't try to force any issue, merely holding out the invitation and the door key with all the same grace his partner usually has, and Reno can't bring himself to refuse. The momentous affection and care in that voice makes the lump in his throat grow a bit more but the terrible weariness in his chest that had come to the surface at the idea of leaving this house tonight subsides greatly in the face of the offer. He can take this, accept it from Rude and not feel any less for it. It's the last statement that his partner makes which catches Reno's attention causing his fingers to curl and tighten subconsciously around Rude's. "Me either..." he whispers in return before his mouth can get any input at all from his brain and Reno scooches over another few inches to press his side more tightly against Rude's chest. He clears his throat to cover the action as if he were just trying to get comfortable but his freehand curls up to clutch possessively to the larger man's tricep, giving hint to the need he has inexplicably developed for wanting to be held.



Reno has never stayed long enough after any encounter before to be held, his mind rebelling at the idea of trusting anyone he doesn't know well with that kind of closeness, but Rude is the only person in the world that Reno can truly consider his best friend and he trusts his partner with his life. His partner is sworn to protect his body, right? So why not the rest of him? Moving his mind along this line of logic, it's easy enough for Reno to convince himself that Rude is a smart man and can toss Reno out anytime he finally realizes that he deserves better, and so it's easy in turn to let himself relax more into that warm embrace. "I think.....ya know...no one's ever washed m'hair b'fore..." he mumbles hopefully, the idea sounding more and more appealing to him and despite the tug of sleep that pulls at the edges of his mind, Reno can't let go of the warmth that spreads through his chest at the idea of staying awake long enough for Rude to give him this last present.







It sounds like Reno's starting to sober up a little, and at first Rude is afraid that sober isn't how he wants to deal with what happened, but he makes no move to leave- he clutches instead, moves closer- and Rude relaxes again, closing his eyes and curling his arm to bring his partner fractions of inches closer. "I still have that shampoo... the stuff you left in my truck when we had to drive to Junon. I meant to give it back several times... kept forgetting, I'm sorry." He's beginning to find that talking to Reno in more than a sentence at a time is becoming less and less of a hassle, and rather than render him afraid of the meaning or consequences of such a concession, he finds himself relieved. "Means I can use that, though, at least."



He remains still with Reno for another minute or so, listening to the clockwork of their bodies, before his awareness begins twitching at the concept of things out of place. He fights it as long as he can, not willing to leave this warmth, but eventually, even his muscles twitch every time he remembers. "I can show you the bathroom," he finally murmurs again, with a tinge of irritation in his voice, though the irritation is aimed far from his partner. "Draw a bath, hot as you want it. I'm... I need to change the bed," he finishes apologetically.



Reno makes a small grunting sound of acknowledgment when Rude brings up the shampoo he'd left behind on one of their long trips. It's been a while since he'd even thought about that but he remembers now how he'd looked for it frantically for all of about 10 minutes before deciding it wasn't THAT important. He'd used body wash that night and had bought more shampoo the next day, never giving it another thought till Rude reminds him. He dismisses the apology his partner offers him with little more than a half hearted shrug. It seems that their roles have now reversed with Rude doing all the talking and Reno offering quiet simple answers to it all. It isn't for lack of wanting to talk to the bigger man that has Reno so quiet as much as it's the warm lull of alcohol and a loving embrace that has stolen his desire to really say anything. It's nice to hear his partner talking more anyway, the man's voice could qualify as sinful, and Reno revels in any chance he can get to keep that hearty rumble rolling along the side of his face and neck.



There's a lull in the conversation that Reno doesn't push to fill with noise for once, content to listen to the rhythmic breathing next to him, but eventually there's enough of a growing build in Rude's discomfort for Reno to notice. The bigger man is twitching small muscles in his legs and arms, a sign Reno has come to recognize, and reluctantly the redhead relinquishes his grip even as Rude offers to show him the bathroom. He could get irritated at the need to clean that seems to drive his partner but in the end, he'd really been waiting for it. Rude has left a mess strewn all the way from the livingroom to his bedroom and while the short reprieve has been nice, it just wouldn't be Rude if the mess didn't eventually bother him. Reno would begin to worry when that day came. Instead he lets out a knowing chuckle when his lover mentions changing the sheets and snorts his assent. "Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm makin' a mess over here," he says lightly in response to the irritation in Rude's voice, cheerfulness tingeing his own now that he's got something to distract him and more of a reason to stay here. Reno rolls away from the warmth of his lover's arms and tosses his feet over the side of the bed, moving to stand up. Or, at least, he was SUPPOSED to stand up. Unfortunately his legs have decided on an entirely different course of action for the night, having long since given over the majority of his higher motor skills to the copious amounts of scotch and sake in his blood, and they opt instead to buckle without preamble or warning due to the sudden change in blood pressure, dropping Reno to his knees on the other side of the bed. His head swims at the sudden movement and change in position but he raises a hand behind him, waving in Rude's general direction to stave off any worry. "M' ok..." he slurs, "Jus' need a sec....fuckin' legs ain't workin'."



After a few brief seconds during which he tries to convince Rude's floor to stop dancing, Reno lurches forward and forces himself onto unstable legs. He wavers slightly, stumbling a few steps before he starts to get the hang of walking again and he begins to head to the livingroom before he realizes he has no clue where the bathroom is. He glances back over at Rude and grins. "Uh....maybe YOU should lead..."



Rude starts to explain that it isn't Reno, that he just- nevermind. He returns that noncommittal shrug instead, rolling to sit up on the other side of his bed. A slight and dull throb makes itself known across his temples, but it isn't enough to incapacitate him, and is therefore worth ignoring. The sound of the tumble has him shooting over the bed and gripping Reno's arm in a split second, though, only letting go- albeit begrudgingly- when he's waved away. His state of mind rocks somewhat precariously between lover and partner as he slides off the bed, withdrawn involuntarily into his silent shell again for a short time.



he slides away and off the bed cautiously, padding around it to guide Reno to the bathroom, a protective hand at the small of his back in case he falls again. When he flips the light on in there, he and Reno are greeted with a simple white room containing a ridiculously large tub, perfectly placed towels and a strange variety of soaps lining one basin edge, some of them medical grade. Rude winces at the bright light, but stops himself from backing out until he's sure Reno is comfortably situated. "I have your... your shampoos there with the soap," he murmurs, almost apologetically. He'd never mention that in the rare moments of mental weakness, he would lather just a little, to calm himself during night freaks with some faint vestige of his partner's scent- even he knows something like that would be considered creepy. "Left them there to remind myself... never worked, I guess. Do you need help into the tub?"







Reno winces and squints up at the bright over head light. He's pretty sure Rude has managed to house the sun in that one tiny white light fixture through he's damned if he can figure out how....then again, it might just be the overwhelming starkness of the room. His own apartment would not have housed anything this white in it for long and as he gazes over the slick white tiles and the long white counter, he notes with something between amusement and amazement that even the GROUT looks pristine. The only real color that Reno can find in the room seems to be the small bottles of soaps and cleaning supplies that line the basin; even the towels, all lined in a perfectly even fluffy row, are utterly white. Reno muses silently that Rude must go through a lot of bleach and he imagines suddenly just putting a few simple green towels in here to break up the arctic flow of empty space he sees around the room. Rude gestures toward the tub and Reno looks over the ridiculously massive thing. He's seen kiddie pools that were smaller. Still, it IS Rude's house and the man had to find a bathtub that would actually hold all of his large frame so the fixture only makes sense in light of that. Reno shuffles forward and kneels down by one edge, his eyes taking in the whole thing in a long slow circle. The tub is freestanding, the shower itself having been removed to a hidden spot behind a wall partition to his right, and it sits out from the wall with a small ring of steps on every side to allow easy access.



Reno slips back up to seat himself precariously on the edge of the tub, wincing slightly at the twinge of pain this causes his rear, and cranks on the hot water. He glances over his shoulder at Rude and shakes his head. "Nah. You go 'head. Fix the bed up, partner. I know it's botherin' ya. I got this." A half grin tugs at one corner of Reno's mouth before he turns back to the steaming water now pouring out of the tap. He cranks on just enough of the cold to allow himself not to get burned and then leans over to pull the plug shut. There's a squeak as his skin slides across the edge and then a heavy thump as Reno capsizes right into the bathtub. His shoulder smarts a bit from the impact and he cusses that his equilibrium couldn't wait to give out when there was more water in the tub, but he flows with the motion and sinks the rest of the way in, pulling his lanky legs in behind him until he's entirely seated. He scoots back to place his shoulders against the cool porcelain and checks the plug and water temperature again before settling in to let the tub finish filling.



It takes about a minute before the water fills the large enclosure enough to seep up between his cheeks but as Reno sinks into the slowly climbing warmth, he's met with a bright flaring sting that shoots up around his ass. "WHAT THE FUCK?!" He skids in the bottom of the tub, struggling to get his ass up out of the water and instead contenting himself with flipping over onto his stomach and pushing his ass up into the air. The water makes the tub slick enough that in his inebriated state he can't make much headway on getting any farther than that but at least it dulls the burn for a moment. He hisses in through clenched teeth and eyes the rising water like an approaching enemy, completely oblivious to his ridiculous position in the tub.







Rude would also never mention that everything in here is so white because that makes it easier for him to see in the dark. He doesn't often turn the lights on in his house, unless his shades are on. He watches Reno sit at the edge of the tub and finally turns to leave, trusting his partner to make it into the water in one piece. He worries slightly as he picks up the clothing strewn from the living room to the bedroom and folds the blanket off the bed, checking carefully for seepage onto the sheets and relieved to find none. when Reno yells, however, Rude is back in the doorway like a shot, new sky-blue comforter in his arms, and drops it on the floor to rush in. He stops when he sees the comical sight, however, and a smile escapes before he has a chance to quell it, followed by an unbidden chuckle. He steps over the blanket and to the edge of the tub, peering in and sitting on the edge. Tentatively, one hand rests for a moment on a presented cheek before settling instead on the small of his back. Rude leans forward to slide his other hand under Reno's chest and heft him upward, supporting him. "That first step is a bitch," he teases gently.