Wanted | By : Solain Category: Final Fantasy VII > General Views: 706 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VII, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
A/N: This fic is co-written between Drakonlily (whom writes the part of Reno) and Solain (who writes the part of Sephiroth).
He wanted … something.
Perhaps it was not knowing exactly what he wanted that had driven him out of his quarters in the later hours of the evening to roam the halls of the ShinRa habitat wing. It was not so late that others weren’t awake; those that did encounter the General in the hall hastily removed themselves from his path, for the way he stalked forth was an indication that he was in a dire, dire mood. It was the truth, for Sephiroth was in fact furious. This had been quite possibly the worst day of his life –a bungled mission, an assassination attempt on his own life, being publicly berated by the idiot president- all those events had mingled together to form a thoroughly unpleasant twenty-four hours.
What he wanted, he mused as he walked, was to beat the absolute shit out of someone.
Not just anyone would do, he decided as he rounded a corner and found himself face to face with a young, pasty faced ShinRa officer. The man, a full two feet shorter than the General, squeaked something before removing himself with considerable speed from the vicinity. Sephiroth watched him go, a sneer twisting his lips. No, not just anybody would do. He wanted to fight someone capable, someone worthy, someone that he knew would put up a good fight. Further down the corridor, a door opened, and stepping out into the General’s line of sight was a tall, lean, very red-headed man.
A grin, feral, curved Sephiroth’s lips. The answer to his craving had just put in an appearance.
Bad. Fucking. Day.
Yes, that summed it up perfectly. Without a shadow of a fragment of a doubt. Assassinate this assassin, find this file, tell this person to pay up, break so and so's arm. It was constant. And the recent attempts on General Sephiroth made them tell the Turks to up HIS security.
That fucker had a paycheck way into the six digit range. Couldn't do it his damn self?
And there he was, striding down the corridor to Reno. No mistaking that ludicrously long silver hair. Great, time to tell General Asspipe that he was his assigned body-guard. Reeve, Tseng and Rude had better FIND those assassins SOON before Reno just did the job for them.
Judging from the expression on Reno’s face –which was reminiscent to that of someone who had just swallowed battery acid- he was not happy to see the General. Not that how Reno felt really made any difference at this point; Sephiroth wanted to brawl and he was going to do it here and now. The Turk of the violently red hair had, more than once, made it known that he didn’t think much of Sephiroth, and while normally the General would simply ignore Reno or say as little as possible to him, the blood singing in his veins and the pain jabbing at his temples demanded violence.
He took a deep breath as he strode close enough to see Reno clearly. The Turk’s eyes, narrowed, watched him approach. Sephiroth halted an arm’s distance away, and for a moment they were silent, gauging each other.
“General,” Reno said finally, voice devoid of anything even remotely resembling respect.
“Turk,” Sephiroth said curtly, nodding. A moment later he exploded into action, his fist heading swiftly for Reno’s jaw.
Reno was fast. Reno was damned fast. Sephiroth's fist exploded into the wall throwing plaster about, but his target wasn't there. Instead, he could feel the barrel of a gun pressed against his temple, the hammer cocked. Blue eyes narrowed. "I am not in the GODS damned MOOD, assfuck."
“Unfortunate,” the General remarked calmly, “Because I am.”
Exerting some of the unusual speed for which he was renowned for, Sephiroth knocked the arm holding the gun against his head aside, following through with a one handed shove that sent Reno stumbling back. Breathing fast, heart racing, the General regarded his opponent much the way a predator would with its prey. “Come on, Reno,” he taunted, feeling irrational and headstrong and therefore quite unlike himself, “Let’s play.”
Reno snarled then, rocking from foot to foot. The hallway had emptied like a fire drill. "I'm a little old to play games with a pretty shit like you." He held the gun in a loose grip that told of countless years holding one. Turks with guns out were not things to be rushed. "I'm supposed to fucking watch you so that the president knows his glory boy'll be safe and sound. The big bad assassins almost gotcha today I hear."
The barb hit home; Sephiroth’s eerie green eyes narrowed until they were mere slits. “You’re a tad mouthy for a bodyguard,” he growled.
"And you're a tad offensive for a mark." Reno snapped back.
“Hnh.” Sephiroth lunged for the Turk again; his fingers brushed Reno’s neck but the Turk whirled nimbly beyond his reach. Undeterred, Sephiroth decided there was but one way to bring him down … and that was to bring him down –physically. He launched himself full tilt at the Turk, slamming into him with enough force to drive them both hard to the floor. Coming up fast, straddling Reno with a knee on either side of his torso, he reached down, secured the shirt collar, and jerked Reno upright so that the Turk’s face was mere inches from his own. At the exact same time he felt the unmistakable coolness of a gun barrel graze his chin; Reno’s smile was vicious.
"You want on top of me so bad yer gonna have to buy me dinner first." Reno laughed at him, further driving the insult home. "Now get the fuck off me before I blow yer head out." The hammer pulled back on the weapon, and Reno's fingers fanned against the gun once.
Sephiroth didn’t care that he was a mere reflex away from having his brain spattered decoratively throughout the corridor – his entire being was now focused on the fight, on the struggle; all he wanted was absolute, unrestrained violence. Deliberately he bent lower, forcing the gun muzzle into his skin, and he didn’t stop until his face was mere inches from Reno’s own. “Do it,” he said softly, angrily. So intent was he on the moment that he didn’t foresee Reno’s next movement; a split second later Reno’s knee connected solidly with Sephiroth’s groin, and in the throes of sudden, terrific agony the General fell away.
Reno rolled to the other side, jumping to his feet and tucking the gun back into his shoulder holster. "Shit man, don't you have fucking something to DO? Earn your thrice damned paycheck or something." He ignored the NO SMOKING sign and lit up blowing a cloud of smoke over his red hair. "I mean, unless your job is "molesting others" than BANG up there chief." Twin jets of smoke filtered through Reno's nose. "You are stuck with me, and I ain't lettin' ya kill me, understood? So PLAY NICE."
Sephiroth, unable to answer on account that his vocal cords had seized, merely glared through watering eyes at the Turk. Inhumanly strong though he was, he was not immune to pain, and Reno’s aim had been unerring. Hands fisted over the agony in his groin, he rolled onto his side and focused on breathing deep until the torture had subsided enough for him to move. Coming carefully to his feet, he said grudgingly, “Nice low blow.”
"I'm a Turk." Reno answered simply. He looked Sephiroth over again with a critical eye before he flicked ash to the floor. "So where to now, mark?"
Bloodlust effectively dampened because of his injury, Sephiroth regarded the Turk for a moment with ill concealed irritation. Finally, Resigned to the fact that like it or not Reno would be with him everywhere until his would-be assassin was caught, Sephiroth sighed. “My place. I hope you enjoy sleeping on the floor.”
Reno closed his eyes and made a grimace. "I'm sleeping on your fucking couch, asstard, and none of your fucking Military 'I ain't seen a woman in years' funny shit’." He pulled his PHS from his pocket. "Reeve? I hate you and you are ruining my life." Silence followed. "No I fucking hate you and Se. I do. You fuckers owe me beer. LOTS of it. Enough to drown a dark dragon." Blue eyes rolled. "No, I'll make sure no one hurts Sephy-poo. But the fucker touches me I'll blow his pretty head off."
He placed the phone away and glared up at the general. "Well what the fuck you waitin on?"
With a disgusted noise the General began to walk, hating this arrangement just as much as Reno. He was a bit of a solitary creature, after all; it was how he’d grown up. Wondering if perhaps he could transfigure his couch into some sort of deathtrap while Reno wasn’t looking, he led the way silently to the large, two story complex that served as his living quarters. Stopping at the metal door and inserting his keycard beneath the blinking red light, he said dryly to Reno. “You needn’t worry. I won’t be trying to touch you tonight.”
Reno arched an eyebrow at him. "That makes me all kinds of squishy inside, Asstard. Really, nice to know you want to go out on a few dates first."
“Rest assured, if I wanted to touch you, I wouldn’t resort to a few dates.” With that vague remark, the General stepped over the threshold and into his quarters, not bothering to see if Reno followed. The lights flickered on at a simple verbal command; pointing to a small couch nearest the bay window, he said, “You can sleep there. There are blankets in the closet down the hall. Don’t touch anything. I’m going to have a shower.”
But, as per the usual, Reno was told not to touch so he did the exact opposite of that and looked about the entire apartment, double checking the windows and any other good hiding places before opening the fridge and groaning. Not one beer, not one, well, there was that rolling rock shit. Reno finally found some old whisky dusted the bottle off and filled a glass with ice before flopping on the couch and turning on the television.
Reno couldn't help but think about Sephiroth's last comment. It gave him shivers. He didn't put something like that past Sephiroth, he seemed like a dominating bastard.
"Nice to know where we stand, fucker." Reno went to the pay per view channel and selected a fight he wanted to see. He then finished the glass of whisky and got up to pour himself another. Then he thought about Sephiroth again and filled the glass with water instead. It took a LOT more than two glasses of whisky to get Reno drunk, but he didn't like the idea of being inebriated with Sephiroth.
Sephiroth had those little chocobo cookies, Reno discovered, the kind with the graham cracker outside and the chocolate filling. "Heh," Reno laughed and then snagged those on his way back to the couch. He cast a cautious glance over to the bathroom door before he chose to leave his side arms -all three of them- on his person. It was the look in his eyes that put Reno off. You could tell when someone was joking or bluffing. Sephiroth wasn't. It was just like looking at the Don, though Sephiroth was more physically intimidating they both had looks that plainly said the rest of humanity existed for them to use.
Sephiroth, standing under the steady, hot, needle-like intensity of high pressure water, was trying cleanse himself of the day’s frustrations in much the way he was ridding himself of sweat and grime. Normally, he had a tight grip on his emotions; he had to, with the position he held. Though somewhat notorious for his temper, he managed most of the time to keep it under tight reign, which was why his behaviour over the last twenty minutes was irritating him so. It was like some sort of inexplicable craving burning him from the inside out; what made it bad was the fact he had absolutely no idea what would satiate the strange desire. Curling one hand into a fist, he struck at the bland whiteness of the shower tile in sudden, frustrated ire. Why did he feel so … wound up? Like he was an explosion waiting to happen?
“Damnit,” he muttered. He shut the water off then, and shoving the shower door aside he stepped out. Fog from the heated water swirled heavily throughout the small bathroom; he caught a momentary glimpse of himself in the quickly clouding mirror, silver hair trailing in sopping ribbons down the expanse of his naked chest. With a self deprecating smile at the distinctly unhappy look his reflection was wearing, he grabbed a towel from the rack and began to dry himself. That done, he dressed quickly in a pair of loose fitting pants that were lying folded on the floor, foregoing a shirt because he planned on sleeping next. Of course, what he really wanted to do was … well, he didn’t know. Kill someone? Yes, that sounded appealing, but not quite what his internal desire –which was going to drive him insane- wanted. He sighed irritably, flicked off the light, and opened the door.
This was going to be a long night.
Reno's eyes were trained on the fight- Alexander Makofield and Junon's greatest, Kid Brawler- but he stopped really watching it when he heard the door open. Instead Reno's ears followed Sephiroth from the bathroom, counting his steps.
It wasn't easy, the man moved with a fluidity and grace that was superhuman. Reno suppressed a growl at himself. He'd fucking flirted with that asshole. Why couldn't Rude be here? Rude, blessed Rude who was motherfuckinhuge and scary. But no, they sent Reno, little skinny slum kid who was a tad too pretty for his own good. Though that hair of Sephiroth's gave any pretty of Reno's a run for its money. He always wondered if it was vanity that kept Sephiroth from cutting it. He ate another cookie, still listening.
Sephiroth, upon exiting the bathroom, took note of Reno lounging casually on the couch, focused completely on the television. He also took note of the opened package of Chocobo cookies and the tumbler half full of water sitting on the small end table beside him. Apparently, his order to touch nothing had been blatantly ignored, but he couldn’t say he was surprised.
Barefoot, he padded into his bedroom, wringing out the long mass of his wet hair over his shoulder as he did so. Flipping on the light, staring at his grey blanketed bed which looked rather unappealing, he realized that sleep wasn’t going to be an option for the night. He flicked the light off again and made his way to the kitchen; upon opening his near empty fridge he noticed immediately that the bottle of whiskey he’d been in possession of for nearly three years had been opened. He glanced at Reno, visible only by the wayward tuft of red hair rising over the back of the couch, and shook his head. Whiskey sounded good. Getting drunk sounded good. He found himself a glass, poured it full of amber liquid, and made his way out to the living room. Reno, a cookie half in and half out of his mouth, stopped chewing and stared as the General stepped carefully over his outstretched legs and settled down beside him on the couch. Sephiroth hid his grin by taking a long drink.
Making Reno uncomfortable also sounded good.
Reno's eyes narrowed and he finished chomping on the cookie and held the now half empty tray in between them. He continued to watch the fight, even though his eyes darted over to Sephiroth and back. Fucking bastard he just NEEDED to parade about half dressed. It was… distracting. He was intimidating with that pretty hair and thick full chest. He also continued to look at Reno like he wanted to eat him.
Aware of the glances Reno kept giving him, Sephiroth took a sip of whiskey, savoured it, and swallowed slowly. While the fight on the television may have caught his attention at a different time, what he wanted to do now, he suddenly realized, was provoke Reno. The Turk, having just finished his cookie, turned his head and met Sephiroth’s gaze full on. The General asked, “Enjoying my cookies?”
Sephiroth was not rewarded with a look that said he felt ANY aversion to the situation. Reno's smirk was famous in Shinra and it graced his face now. "Ya know, I NEVER thought you'd like these things? Goes to show huh? Betcha got a teddy bear in yer bedroom too, don't ya?" He dug out his pack of cigarettes and lit one.
Sephiroth, after regarding him for a long, intense moment, asked without any preamble, “Would you like to check?”
Reno arched an eyebrow, but his smirk didn't fade. "Eh, I already got the grand tour, I'll just leave yer sick fetishes away from me." Twin jets of smoke filtered out of Reno's nose and he finished his water and began using the cup as an ashtray. Then he propped his booted feet up on the table and continued to watch the television.
Hmm. That wasn’t quite the reaction Sephiroth was hoping for. What’d he’d wanted from Reno was … well …
The General’s eyes widened as he realized just what he wanted from Reno. All of this frustration, all of this rage that had accumulated throughout this very, very bad day … it wanted but one outlet, and Sephiroth almost choked when he realized that that outlet was sex.
Not that Reno was unappealing; quite the opposite. The General had always had an affinity for red heads, and while Reno’s blatant belligerence usually irritated him, it also amused him; Reno stood up for himself and never took shit from anybody. Somewhat startled by this new revelation and much less disturbed than he figured he would be, he decided he’d do whatever necessary to start feeling normal again. And besides, he liked a challenge …
He downed the rest of his whiskey, set the glass down, and said very deliberately, “I’m going to give you once chance, Reno, to leave here.”
Reno threw him a "yeah right" look. "Listen, Seph, nothin' doin'. Pres says that you need to be protected from the big bad boogieman. And you don't sign my checks. What you going to do anyway? Kill me?" He made a "fft" sound. "I'm expensive to replace, you wouldn't want yer pay docked."
“No, I won’t kill you, Reno. I have other things in mind.”
Reno let out a little laugh and suddenly the nightstick was stretched out in-between them, humming a light blue. You keep yer hands to yourself, pretty boy or I'll fry ya. I know your type."
There wasn’t a lot separating the General from the Turk, and it took Sephiroth all of 1.5 seconds to close the space between them. Looming over the red head, head bent so that the damp strands of his hair fell all around them he said in a low voice, “I don’t think you have any clue about my type, Turk.”
The nightstick hurt a bit more than Sephiroth would have expected, still damp skin didn't help damper anything. Sephiroth reared up and caught both of Reno's booted feet to the chest in a swift kick.
Reno remained on the couch with that smirk. "I grew up knowin you're TYPE, Seph." He picked his cigarette up off the carpet and puffed on it till it relit. "You want to break someone, you want to scare someone and have someone just beg you for it. Well fuck you. The Don's always got some nice guys just like that."
“I,” Sephiroth said flatly from his prone position on the floor, “Am nothing like those …people.” Standing and eyeing Reno’s nightstick, he said, “You should know that, Turk. I’m not much like anyone else. There are vast differences.”
"People are people, no matter their god complexes. Did you forget trying to attack me 20 minutes ago? I'm not stupid, Sephiroth." Reno snorted and snuffed out his cigarette. "So enlighten me then, what is your type?"
Instead of answering, the General asked, “Tell me, Turk … do you in any way, shape or form find me attractive?”
"That's an irrelevant question there, Seph." The Turk smiled. "You're in great shape and you know it. Of course you're good looking."
“I think it’s obvious I find you to be the same.” Sephiroth paused. “So if I were to tell you that tonight I wanted you, what would you say?”
"I would tell you to take some five man time, I'm a whore, not a slut."
Sephiroth almost laughed. Almost. As it was, the twitching of his lips gave away his amusement at Reno’s glib and unperturbed remark. A moment later he said, “I didn’t mean to imply you were.” As an afterthought he added, “You’re much harder to seduce than I thought you’d be.”
Reno shrugged. "What can I say, I'm a professional."
“Granted.” Getting increasingly frustrated, Sephiroth eyed the other for a long moment, weighing his options. He was fairly certain that even though the Turk wouldn’t admit it, he wasn’t adverse to … contact of a certain kind with Sephiroth. Therefore, when Sephiroth suddenly began to move, it was to accomplish a technique that had just popped into his brain.
Which was, very basically, to tackle Reno.
Knowing that the nightstick was debilitating, Sephiroth made certain that when his weight landed on Reno, the hand holding said nightstick was trapped beneath them both. Anticipating a blow to the face with the other hand, Sephiroth reared up enough that the punch, while strong, was merely glancing. Catching that wrist, he struggled against the other’s wiry strength until he had the arm pinned against the edge of the couch.
“Now then,” he said with a triumphant grin, “About that seduction …”
"You're just a pushy son of a whore, aren't you?" Reno tossed his shoulders to little avail, Sephiroth was just too large to be pitched off the couch at this angle. Reno got the distinct impression that he'd done this before.
“Stop fighting,” the General said. He leaned in close, his hair again forming a curtain around them both. When he spoke next, his lips were so close that they brushed Reno’s own. “You know, give yourself a chance and you might enjoy this."
Reno tilted his head up and caught Seph's bottom lip with his teeth and then kissed him hard. He had to arch up to keep in contact with the shocked man above him.
This aggression wasn’t exactly what Sephiroth had expected, but he wasn’t complaining. This was what he wanted, this fast, furious connection between them that had his heart pounding and the blood singing in his veins.
Suddenly Sephiroth found himself at a very odd angle, flipped off of his couch and glaring up at where Reno was watching him, hands against his chin over the arm of the couch. "You need to be on your toes more, Seph. I thought I told you no." He smirked then, almost laughing.
The long length of Reno’s tied back hair had fallen over the couch and was hanging mere inches from Sephiroth’s face. He caught hold of it swiftly, pulling Reno forward and over the couch arm while at the same time pushing himself upright. Reno’s startled cry was lost as Sephiroth’s mouth closed over his own, and this time the General’s kiss was much more insistent than his last. With a subtle, sinuous movement of his head he managed to pry Reno’s lips apart, and then his tongue was invading the other’s mouth with single minded purpose.
Reno was going to yelp, he hadn't expected this. Had he expected Sephiroth to give up? Well he hadn't expected that either. Now, however his hair was gripped tightly in Sephiroth's large hand and … and Sephiroth was a pretty good kisser.
Reno growled at him, he may have wanted it, but not tonight. Not just because Sephiroth wanted a fuck. It took him a moment to realize his hand was free and two could play the hair tugging game. He took a fistful of white hair and yanked back and down. Sephiroth's mouth left his with a strangled sound of surprise. They toppled down, knocking the table over and nearly breaking the television in the process. Reno fell hard against Sephiroth's stomach, and forced the other man's head back with his grip on his hair.
Growling low in his throat, the General attempted to wrest his hair free. When that failed he retaliated by wrenching hard on Reno’s red strands, yanking his head down in the process until they were both glaring at each other a mere inch apart. Breathing hard, the General asked almost voicelessly, “Now who’s on top of who?”
"I thought I told you that I am not putting out tonight." Reno's arms shook a bit fighting back against Sephiroth. "And I don't bottom, pretty boy."
“I’m not asking you to,” was the General’s breathless reply. Exerting a little more pressure, ignoring the pain of his own hair being wrenched, he tugged Reno’s head down little by little. The Turk’s whole frame was tense from resisting; Sephiroth surged upwards to close the distance between them, claiming Reno’s mouth once again. He reached up quickly with his free hand and wrapped it around the Turk’s neck, effectively cutting off any retreat.
Reno pulled back again on Sephiroth's hair, harder before biting at his neck, just under his jaw. Before he could do anything else, however, the PHS started ringing. Reno snarled and sat up, still straddling Sephiroth's stomach. "Now what?" he asked into the line.
"Oh you are fuckin' shittin' me." Reno pinched his nose and reached around for his cigarettes again. "Who the FUCK is stupid enough to do that?" He groaned. "And I have bodyguard duty. Oh yeah, that works, what am I supposed to do, ground him?"
Reno stood, already checking his weapons. "I hate getting shot at, Reeve. I motherfuckin HATE gettin shot at."
Reno stood, already checking his weapons. "I hate getting shot at, Reeve. I motherfuckin HATE gettin shot at." He sighed. "Right, back up in 20." He turned and looked at Sephiroth. "You are to stay here, no leaving, no opening a window, someone will be by in the morning."
And with that, the Turk was gone.
Sprawled across his living room floor, the skin on his neck still tingling from Reno’s bite, Sephiroth’s first infuriated instinct was to run after Reno, drag him back by his hair, and proceed with what most likely would be the most fantastic sex of his life. Knowing that he couldn’t, however, led to the almost as strong desire to throw something heavy –like his television- out the window. Instead he lay where he was, breathing deep to calm the rage that had flooded him upon having his “seduction” thwarted. The night wasn’t a total waste, oh no, even though a very, very cold shower was in order in order to dampen his heightened libido. Things had actually gone well.
Getting to his feet, rubbing at his neck and what he knew would be a bruise in the morning, he padded towards the bathroom with a smile. No, the night hadn’t been a complete waste. He knew now, at least, that Reno was attracted to him. And attraction was something he could work on.
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