Happy Birthday was made for you

A/N: Ok, this is it. There might be more later if I decide to keep it going but otherwise, this is the wrap up point. I hope you all enjoyed and as always, reviews make me feel like you want more so let me know if you like it. :)



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Reno sidles up along side Rude, glancing up nervously at the bottle and his partner before turning to place his back to the other man. He leans back enough for Rude to reach his hair easily though he's not sure if this is the right position to have his hair washed. "Uh...yeah. Stings less now, ya know. Think the powder stuff is helpin'. Um...ya need me to wet my hair or anythin'?"



Rude has had very few, if any at all, occasions to spoil and coddle someone or something he cared for. He might have been a child- he honestly can't remember if it ever happened. He feels vaguely apprehensive in the face of a mirroring apprehension on Reno's face, but doesn't understand why an act as simple as bathing would cause such a nervous reaction- especially after the rest of his partner's mood swings in the past several minutes. Granted, Rude is slightly uneasy about washing someone else's privates, but as Reno pointed out, that's a bit silly in light of what has been unraveling throughout the evening.



When the redhead is close enough, Rude reaches out and pulls him closer by the shoulders, turning him to face away. "I can wet it," he offers gently, arms reaching around Reno to cup a twin handful of water and let it dribble over the bright hair. "I'll take care of you. Why are you nervous?" he adds with a note of curiosity. "Is there a new circumstance between now and before you threw a tantrum?"



Reno's voice breaks a little around the edges in a way that says he's only offended because what Rude said is true. "It wasn't a tantrum," he he states snarkily, his apprehension forgotten for a moment in favor of his self defense, adding rather sullenly, "I was just....I.....fuck. I 'unno. It's....." Reno ducks his head and watches the small streams of water run down his bangs like strangely colored stalagmites, rippling the water below and throwing off his own reflection like a funhouse mirror. There's a long pause broken only by the lapping of water around their bodies and the edge of the tub, joined by the soft plip plop of water still dripping from his hair while Reno tries to figure out how to say to Rude what he's feeling, to explain to someone for the first time what's on his mind that doesn't involved fucking or fighting. A sliver of aqua blue peers up over one shoulder as Reno turns his head slightly, the gaze not quite going far enough to settle on Rude and for the second time that night, all the bravado has been stolen out of the rough voice that comes up. There's a softer, more hesitant, quality to the redhead's voice as he tries his best to forge more new ground tonight without losing his mind. Finding out he was gay was strange enough, discovering he honestly was falling for his partner was also a shock, but to find himself now sitting in a tub between his partner's legs about to confess something as girly as feelings while getting his hair washed was making him wonder precisely when the white rabbit would come running through the room to lead him down the hole and back to reality.



"I...." Reno's voice chokes off and he's sure someone is trying to strangle him. Damn all this feelings bullshit. Why couldn't he just show affection like he normally did? Why didn't lovers beat the hell out of each other instead of all this other weird shit he can't handle as well. Reno's addled mind works to puzzle together what his heart isn't even sure it understands yet and in a fit of frustration, his mouth decides 'fuck it, they're taking too long' as words begin stuttering forth without much comprehensible meaning. "It's just...I can't HIT ya, ya know? I mean, how the hell am I supposed to say what I wanna say when I DO hit ya? Ya know what I'm tryin' ta say when I DO hit ya, right Rude? And ain't no one ever washed m'hair before. If ya just socked me in the face, I'd know exactly how ta handle that shit and then we'd go get a beer but yer washin' ma hair an' I don't know how ta deal with that....fuck, that sounds wrong....I meant I don't know how....ya know......I mean.....well DAMMIT, Rude, ya ain't got hair for ME ta wash." Reno's words die off as his brain finally manages to rein in his mouth and he dips his head back down, squeezing his eyes shut as if this would make his current situation any simpler.



And then it happens. The words fall from his lips in a voice so small even he can barely make them out...of course, that may also be due to the fact that they are spilled forth in one jumbled mess of consonants and vowels that barely co-exist.



"Ilubyarude."



Rude listens to the tirade, bemused, but doesn't interrupt. He only partially understands the spiel, the reasoning, the frustration, and only because he's made guesses as to Reno's disposition in isolated situations. He has to concentrate to keep from writing it off as drunken babble, as he's done in the past, but this makes a little too much sense to ignore. He sees Reno get derogatory or rough with horseplay only around people he's certain the redhead trusts, including Rude himself. and while Rude has a much more difficult time trusting people, he can almost equate the behavior with... well... the way he only hint smiles around his partner. Or... celebrates an occasion, such as today's.



He furrows his brow when the spiel finally seems to end, having retrieved the shampoo and started to lather it in. He doesn't quite grasp the irritation with his lack of hair. That, of all things, makes no sense to him whatsoever. if Reno prefers to disguise his affections with violence, why should washing hair matter to him? And then something rushes out that Rude almost didn't catch. He mouths the syllables to himself as he works his fingers into a cleansing massage over Reno's scalp, trying to discern what... and suddenly, it falls into place.



The idea itself is no surprise. You don't walk into an experience like theirs as a trusting virgin like Reno did, not without at least some modicum of emotion... but Rude had never expected his partner to admit it. Not when he was anywhere near sober, anyway. His hands slow their pace until they come to a stop, his face becoming unreadable before it falls through confused, amazed and finally warm. If only Reno could see the smile cautiously spreading over his face. The entire tangent makes sense now, and Rude chuckles as the pieces of it come together in his train of logic. Rude decides at first not to answer, merely pulling and posing Reno to lean over so he can ladle water over the red tresses and rinse them clean. When the suds are gone, Rude's arms sneak gently over the pale shoulders to pull Reno to lean back against him, before extending one arm out in front of them both, hand held in a non-threatening fist. "So... if you can't wash mine... then hit me. I can take it." His tone says something very similar, if not the same, as what Reno just admitted, though he's very afraid he might say it wrong if he tries any other way.



Reno tenses slightly as Rude gathers the wet mop of hair onto the top of his head and begins to massage it into a thick lather. His mind screeches in utter terror as he waits for his partner to fathom the tangle of words he's just mumbled but after a few moments of silence, he begins to hope that maybe it was just too soft to hear. Perhaps for once, the fates have decided to be kind to him and Rude simply missed the muttering under the slosh of water around them. Maybe he wouldn't have to try and explain where the hell that came from or talk about his feelings or gods forbid, his fucking soul. Maybe he can just pretend that didn't happen and relax into the strong fingertips running over his scalp....slowing slightly.....stopping all together......FUCK.



Damn you fate.



The sudden halting of Rude's hands tells Reno all he needs to know and he cringes slightly as he waits for the words to fully sink in. It's obvious his partner DID hear him and that he's just figured out what was said but since he can't see Rude's face, he has no way of telling how the other man is taking the confession. There's a moment that lasts forever as Rude's fingers hover in in Reno's hair and the redhead waits to either hear it back, and have to deal with THAT, or for his partner to lose his shit fully after all the grief Reno had just given him over not saying that very thing. There are a lot of possibilities when it comes to how Rude might react....but chuckling was not the one Reno had expected.



Chuckling. Rude doesn't say anything else at first, just a low rumble of amusement that Reno recognizes but it comes with no further explanation and at first there's a real pang of something painful in the back of Reno's chest. He'd just confessed his love and his partner had laughed. He lets Rude mold him like a boneless doll, pushing and pulling him however he needs to for the rinsing of his hair. The foxtail spills over his back and shoulder like blood colored seaweed, slick and smooth, and the usually wild mass atop his head hangs limply, clinging to one side of his face as he leans over. He doesn't say anything, preferring not to let his mouth do anything else that fucks up his night until he feels the strong wrap of arms around him. His muscles offer a tiny amount of resistance at first but he gives quickly to the embrace and leans back against the broad chest behind him. A shift of one arm causes Reno to finally open his eyes again and he stares blankly at the fist being held out in front of him. A small part of his mind wonders if Rude intends to just sock him in the face for putting him through all the ranting he has since they found themselves in the bathroom, but a look of bewilderment comes across his face at the words offered to him instead.



THIS he can understand and in one blink of an eye, Rude reconfirms why Reno let himself come here tonight, why he could say the words he just did in the first place. Rude doesn't ask for some long detailed exposition on Reno's soul. He doesn't request a love poem or long talks into the night on their feelings. He simply understood. He understands the confusion and frustration that Reno is feeling and instead of pressing for more, he's offered a simple door out. It resonates with the same understanding that they have in the field, that each has the other's back without having to say anything and Reno knows right then what is in the words Rude DOESN'T say. The ones he spares Reno from having to deal with or work through. I love you too. A slow smile spreads over his face and he cocks his head, staring with undisguised affection at the outstretched fist he knows and can happily deal with.



A bony elbow is suddenly slammed into Rude's gut, striking just under the ribcage where it will knock the wind out of him and Reno's smile breaks into a toothy grin. "Thanks, partner," he purrs, leaning back against the other man in complete relaxation. Now this is a love he can handle.



The jab is answered with a heavy grunt and a slight flinch. Rude grimaces for a second, hoping he won't get hit there EVERY time if this is the way they're gong to deal with this. "...don't mention it," he wheezes amiably, catching his breath. And when he's good and ready, Rude further responds by dunking his partner under the water in a playful hold. Eventually, they tire out and manage to get clean, finally deigning to stumble back to bed once they're dry- and, oddly enough, a little bruised.