Turk's Gambit

I respectfully credit all Original Creators, namely Squaresoft, which became SquareEnix,for these characters. In this way, I pay homage to my Fandom's Original Creator, and illustrate my Community's belief that Fan Fiction is "fair use". I do not claim to own these characters. I do not make money or gil from using these protected characters, nor do I wish to make money or gil from them. In other words, I am borrowing these characters to entertain the adult fanfiction community, but I am doing so with the highest degree of respect to the engineers, game designers, music makers, and voice actors.






I’m good at waiting. Waiting takes nothing but patience, which I have in abundance. I waited for my position with the Turks, waited for recognition and higher pay in the elite squad, and waited for the pretty scientist to notice me. Then, I waited for her to love me.

I don’t have to wait for that anymore.

I waited patiently, locked in a coffin in a black, dank hole for three decades. When Cloud Strife prompted my release I waited to prove I could help him. When we prevented the end of the planet I waited for a sign we’d done correctly.

I’m still waiting for that.

Now I waited in Tifa Lockhart’s bar, Seventh Heaven, for a sign of that troublemaker Turk, Reno. His call suggested past Turk business. I suspected Cloud of giving him my number. Since our involvement in the ruin of Rufus Shin-Ra and Lucas Havars, they seemed closer. I assumed Cloud carried a torch for the red-haired Turk.

Waiting, at least, allowed me to drink Costa del Sol rum. I enjoyed it but it never made me drunk. I couldn’t get drunk anymore, not since my change from man to beast. I filled the time watching the many patrons milling about.

I watched Tifa serve a non-descript man. He grabbed her wrist. I tensed for movement but she already had him flat on the floor, the wind knocked out of his lungs. Smiling, I relaxed. I sometimes forgot how formidable she could be. She dated Barret now, having given up on Cloud in a romantic sense.

We were all happier now that she’d dropped the idea of Cloud’s love.

A burst of noise and movement urged me to ease fully into the shadows. There stood my quarry, a blaze of cherry red on top of somber navy blue. He carried his preferred Elecro-Mag Rod in his left hand and his suit jacket in the other. His rumpled, quarter-silk work shirt looked as if he’d slept in it, and hung free of his trousers untucked.

A grin broke out on his pale face upon seeing Tifa, those red, curved tattoos on his cheekbones arcing.

Moving indolently, he scanned the room while he walked to the service bar. I’d noticed his poise a few times before and it befuddled me that someone so lazy could be so spry. It made him cat-like, that grace and lethargy.

He missed me, his eyes coasting over my position without stopping.

“Hey, Tifa,” he drawled. I could pick his voice out of thousands, easily. It took no effort to focus on him rather than the fifty or so people in the room.

Tifa smiled in an unsure way, apparently suspicious. “Reno,” she greeted. “On duty?”

“Nah, just cut loose.” Reno threw his gangly body onto a stool and propped his chin in his hand. “You’re looking good, gorgeous.” He looped his weapon’s wrist strap in the appropriate place before taking a casual scratch at his right forearm.

“Thanks for your approval,” Tifa said wryly. “I could say the same for you but you’re so arrogant you don’t need to hear it.”

“I’m wounded.” Reno accepted the drink she slid him. “I’m also looking for someone.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, that ex-Turk, Valentine.”

To Tifa’s credit her eyes never moved in my direction. She protected me as I attempted to protect her. “Is that so?” she prodded, gifted with making a person talk. Being a bartender gave minor degrees in sociology and psychology. A person spilled more personal information on a barstool than they ever did on a couch.

“Yeah, got to talk to him about the business.” Reno tossed his drink back, taking it in one swallow. I watched his throat move, momentarily distracted by the way liquid moved underneath the skin. He grinned at Tifa, showing winter-white, sharp teeth. “He said he’d meet me here, but I’m late.”

“How late are you, Reno?” Tifa asked, teasing.

“Almost an hour. Got caught up talking to General Sephiroth and forgot the time.” Reno watched her pour more liquor, looking delighted. “It sure is different at work without Rufus and Sheila; no more standing back to watch weird and intricate games.”

“I’m certain,” Tifa muttered. She didn’t like talking about Sephiroth, naturally.

“Uh-huh,” Reno added, employing his usual grasp of vernacular. Again he drank. I fully rested my eyes on the way he swallowed. Reno always struck me as a sensual creature, a bit feminine but a powerful fighter who knew how to relax. He let a daily grind or deep business slide off of him with equal aplomb. Nothing stuck. He didn’t carry grudges, brood or over-think matters. He liked to chat.

In short, Reno was my complete opposite.

“I guess I missed him,” Reno said, slamming his glass down. He took out his phone and hit a single button. “Sucks to be me; Tseng told me I had to do this.”

My phone vibrated. I plucked it out and opened it. “Yes?”

“Hey, Valentine,” Reno said.

“Hello, Reno,” I greeted in return. I watched him converse with me, noticing his body language matched his tone. He liked talking to me, for some reason. He’d taken special notice of me during the interrogation of Lucas Havars. I’d remarked to myself his unusual eyes; dark blue rims lightening to blue-grey only to become green near the pupil. Hazel fell short as a description.

“Sorry I missed you,” he went on, his face reflecting genuine regret for perhaps a half second. “I lost track of time talking to Sephiroth.”

“That happens,” I said neutrally.

“Yeah, he’s fascinating to watch,” Reno said. “Did you know he cooks?”

“No, I didn’t,” I answered.

“Yeah, he cooks,” Reno repeated. “I grabbed a bite of his quiche while he blabbed on the phone with Eldon. He caught me. Told me he’d made it and he didn’t appreciate having his food stolen.” Reno sipped at his third drink now, looking relaxed. I felt like he could talk to me forever without saying anything.

“Anyway, would it be possible to make another date with you?” Reno asked.

His choice of words caused me to focus on his smile.

Incredibly, Reno flirted with me.

I felt my lips pulling in humor for the first time in months. Trust incorrigible, exasperating Reno to make me smile.

“I wasn’t aware you’d asked me out, Reno,” I said lowly.

Reno licked his lips and shivered. Suddenly, a cocky smile burst over his face. “I’m slipping,” he announced, a self-depreciating light lurking in his denim and sulphur eyes. “Sorry, Valentine.”

He absolutely fascinated me to watch. I felt like I sat in a theater, at a private show. Animated, unrestrained and open, Reno dominated a room just by being himself. Again I smiled. “I would remember it, I think,” I went on, drawing him out.

“Oh, sure,” Reno agreed quickly. “Once I’ve asked you out, you’re out.” He cleared his throat, looking eager to change the subject. “So, want to meet up later?”

“Now is good,” I answered.

Reno smiled to himself, clearly pleased I’d see him. “Well, I can meet you, since you came all this way for nothing.”

“I wouldn’t say I came to Seventh Heaven for nothing.” I sat up and out of the shadows. “It’s been instructional to people watch.”

He spied me in an instant. His eyes widened in a comical way. Slowly, he shut his phone. I did the same, tracking his path as he wove in and out of people toward my direction.

“I didn’t see you.” Reno sat down directly beside me, stretching his long legs out underneath the table and hitting me with his knee. The contact didn’t upset me.

“I haven’t moved from this table.” My eyes traveled over him. He looked so young. At sixty-four years of age I felt old beside of him. Cloud didn’t make me feel this old. But, Cloud had a temperament similar to mine.

“Yeah,” Reno said, obviously thinking. “You blend in with the background when you want to, though. “I think you were playing with me.”

“I was.” I slid him my half-finished rum.

“Oh.” Reno blinked. His grin returned. Without taking his eyes from me, he took the rum and drank it.

Not the least bit disturbed I’d watched him…

I wondered why he always wore a pair of goggles strapped to his forehead.

“Listen,” he said. “Tseng is stepping down as the leader of the Turks.” He paused dramatically. When I didn’t leap on the information he rolled his eyes. “Don’t you want to know why?”

“I imagine it’s because he’s turned forty-five, the mandatory age to step down as Lead Turk,” I replied. “He’ll go to Administrative Consultation or take his pension.”

Reno gave an eloquent toss of his head, saying 'Of course' without saying it at all. “Well, the thing is, he’s nominated you to take his place.”

“I don’t belong to Shin-Ra anymore,” I countered, but I felt surprised over this information. I wasn’t a Turk and hadn’t been for longer than Reno’s age.

Reno looked at me a moment. “Let’s go someplace more private,” he said quietly. “I don’t feel I can talk to you in here.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know,” he protested. “No, wait, how about the ruined church?”

“The one Aerith Gainsborough liked?” I’d never been there.

“Yeah.” Reno stood up, throwing a handful of gil on the table as restitution. “I’ve got my car but we’d better take a rail; I’d get my hubcaps stolen in that area, if not the entire car.”

I followed him out, noticing how pleased he seemed. His body angled toward mine often as he chatted, and I found myself focusing on that rather than his words. He just gossiped anyway, told me things about the company that meant little. Once on the train he quieted a little, to my relief. His restless eyes moved over the other occupants, searching them all for signs of aggression.

Reno had a dark past, I felt sure. The attention he paid to our surroundings betrayed a habit, a need to be alert. All Turks shared this to some degree, but with Reno it wasn’t training, it was life.

“So, I’ve been meaning to ask,” he said in a low tone as he gripped the standing bar. “Is that a prosthetic or just jewelry?” he asked, pointing at my gauntlet.

“It’s symbolic of what a monster I am,” I answered steadily, watching his eyes. “All mythical beasts have brass claws.”

Reno stared at me, a very slight curve moving his lips. “But, is it actually your hand or does it just cover your hand?” he persisted.

“It covers it,” I answered, seeing he would not be put off.

He nodded.

For a long time we rode. It didn’t bother me. The car emptied of people bit by bit until we were the only ones occupying the space.

“So, you turn into beasts,” Reno blurted in his typical, unconcerned drawl.

“Yes.”

“Just like that, yes?” Reno shook his head. “Does it hurt, does it suck, do you like it?”

“Yes, no, undecided,” I answered in order.

Reno returned to staring at me. “You always so wordy?” he asked sarcastically.

“No, sometimes I’m quiet,” I replied, smiling inside. Reno amused me. My brooding didn’t bother him one bit. In fact, he appeared to like me this way.

Suddenly, he scratched furiously at his forearm, grimacing.

“What?” I asked. This made the second time I’d seen him scratch his arm.

“Oh, nothing,” he said absently. “Training some recruits to the Turk program and one of them lobbed a status bomb at me.”

“I’m not familiar with status bombs.” I’d dwelt thirty plus years away from the way Turks did things. This proved Tseng’s insanity.

“Status bombs cause a specific debility or a mood problem,” Reno explained, still scratching. “The one that hit me smelled funny. I half think it was a bad bomb, if there can be such a thing. All bombs are good.”

“Except when they hit you,” I observed. “Do you feel different?”

“A little hyper and a little aroused.” Reno seemed to force himself to stop scratching. “Time will wear off whatever it is.”

I took his word for it.

In another ten minutes we reached our appropriate sector. Reno led the way. I cast my eyes over the ruined place of worship, noting the collapse of the east ceiling. The building most likely sheltered all sorts of vermin, from bats to rats. Reno forced the dilapidated door to open and we entered.

The smell of lilies and roses blanketed the still air. Dust motes danced in a slanted beam of evening sun, looking reddish. In this light Reno’s hair blazed. He turned to look at me, propping his hip on a pew. “So, we’ve come all this way so I can beg and plead with you in private,” he announced. “Look, Tseng is really hoping you’ll take his place. Truthfully, so am I.”

“I fail to see why.” I looked around, seeing the flowers Aerith started many years ago, the sources of the lovely scents in the room. No one had been in here in many years, apparently. I didn’t even see footprints in the dust where the floor remained structurally sound. “And, I violate the age limit anyway,” I went on.

“Not if you’re…immortal, like Hojo says,” Reno countered. He scratched at his arm again. “And you’re practically indestructible, if I’m to believe what he says.”

“Everything dies, eventually,” I replied. If Tifa didn’t like talking about Sephiroth, I didn’t enjoy speaking of Hojo. The man had made amends for some of his crimes but I would never be easy talking about him. “What is my motivation to give up freelance and ties with WRO?”

“The pay, of course, and the opportunity to work under New Shin-Ra.” Reno looked into my eyes an unusually long time, perhaps studying their color. “You know I punch a clock, right? I’m not one for sacrificing myself for any job, but things are different now.”

I understood this as truth. Still…

“Besides, it’s steady income with status and perks, you know?” Reno started scratching again.

I reached out and grabbed his arm. Before he could jerk in surprise I had his sleeve up. Underneath the reddening his hands caused, a very dark and large bruise mottled his skin. “It’s a bad strike with a status effect,” I lectured. “You should be examined.”

“I saw the aforementioned mad scientist before I left,” Reno said, grinning lazily. “He told me to go straight home and to watch my libido.”

“And you disobeyed,” I murmured, letting go of him.

“Of course. Tseng really wanted me to find you.” Reno shivered suddenly. “But, I do feel odd.”

Quite abruptly, I did too. I rubbed my fingers together, feeling a gritty residue on my glove. Either the status bomb had a pervasive compound or it carried airborne constituents. A flush of unfamiliar heat traveled my bloodstream as I looked at Reno’s expressive mouth.

He saw. A light appeared in his eyes. “Ah,” he murmured. “See? Even the bombs that hit you are good, Valentine.”

I looked away, wondering if I had time to retreat to my hideaway. An aphrodisiac shouldn’t pose too much of a threat to me; I hadn’t been interested sexually in someone for a very long time. Still, I found Reno engaging, and an aphrodisiac wouldn’t care if he was a man or a woman.

I’d never slept with a man.

“Don’t sweat this,” Reno said. “It doesn’t mean anything.” He took his Electro-Mag Rod off, dropping it to a dusty pew. “I’m sure a guy like you learns to adapt.”

“You lured me here deliberately, with intent,” I said, folding my arms over my chest.

“The job opportunity is real,” he argued. “But yes, I did. Like I said, I didn’t want anyone to witness me begging.”

Despite my situation I felt a momentary flash of amusement. “You plotted this carefully, didn’t you, Reno?” I asked.

“Yeah.” Reno dropped his jacket carelessly to the dirty floor. “I knew you wouldn’t hook up with me unless something drastic happened. I’ve been perving over you for months, too.”

Flattered, but slightly concerned now, I met his eyes. “You want me? There’s a certain element of danger in that.”

“You stay cool,” Reno argued. “I’ve studied up on you.” He began to unbutton his wrinkled shirt, revealing by degrees a pale, smooth chest. “You’re good at keeping your beast chained.”

“And what if I let him loose on you while under the influence of this contagious contaminant?” I let my arms drop, compelled to move but fighting it. The thought of grabbing him arose unbidden.

Reno threw his shirt down atop his jacket. “It doesn’t matter if you do,” he answered. His grin returned. “I’m pretty tough for a lightweight.”

“And you have interesting taste in your choice of rendezvous points.” I looked around. “I suppose to you this is…romantic?”

“Flowers and filth,” Reno said, kicking off his boots. “What could be more romantic? I thought you’d balk at my apartment. This is private and it won’t matter if we trash the place.”

In his stocking feet he stood at least three inches shorter, putting him half a foot lower than me.

I reined the growing heat in my blood. “I’ve never had sex with a man,” I said. “Perhaps I don’t wish to start.”

Reno smiled softly. “I don’t think your cock cares,” he told me. “Besides, I’m not holding you to an exclusive relationship or anything that would cramp your style. Sure, I’d like more than the once, but I’ll take what I can get.”

He was right. My cock didn’t care. I felt myself swelling now as I looked at his naked chest. I’d always loved a good set of breasts, but his lack of them didn’t bother me one bit. I focused on his strong, sculpted shoulders, seeing the evidence of hard, violent living.

“Why me, Reno?” I asked simply.

“You kidding?” Reno slid forward, his hands working the clasps at my cloak. “Vincent Valentine, you’re so hot you burn the ground. I’ve been jerking off to your mental image ever since I met you.”

His confession sent lust coursing through me. Too, the sensation of his fingers brushing my neck sent shivers down my spine. Chaos stirred, howling in excitement.

All my celebrated patience evaporated.

I seized him.

Reno’s quiet gasp of surprise and hope enflamed me. Craving and anger went to war. Roughly, I shoved him down onto the nearest pew. If I hurt him he would take the blame for it. He’d drugged me and lured me here for this, all the while knowing full well I wasn’t a homosexual.

I pinned him to the aged wood, delighting in being stronger than him, aroused by the little, involuntary jerk he gave. He feared me regardless of his desire. “Is this what you want, Reno?” I growled, spreading my hand over his neck. My brass claws scraped his skin. “You want me to bend you over in this disintegrating church?”

“Absolutely,” he whispered, eyes going to mine. “Gods, you have beautiful eyes, Valentine.” His hand slid up my chest slowly, pressing upon my muscles. “I wouldn’t care where we were,” he confessed. “You could fuck me across Tseng’s desk if you wanted.”

I froze, making way for a tremendous shudder of need. I hadn’t released physically in so long…

Thirty two years, to be exact.

It looked like I’d break my run of celibacy.

“You think too damn much,” Reno complained, attacking my cloak again. “What good does it do you, huh?” He released the last catch and my tattered garment slid noiselessly to the floor. “It’s kept you alone and miserable. Here I am offering myself and you’re resisting, even with a little pharmaceutical help.”

“Of course I resist, you red-headed idiot,” I whispered. “You drugged me. You led me here for the express purpose of a seduction, knowing I wasn’t like you.”

“Don’t kid a kidder.” Reno slid his hands underneath my shirt clasps, grazing my heated flesh. “You’re exactly like me; you go both ways. It’s not my fault you didn’t know it.”

His words came a little strained. I let go of his neck, unwilling to kill him. I’d gouged his skin badly in two places, making him bleed sluggishly. I filled with the need to taste those ruby trenches, to feed the animal lurking in my soul. Slowly, I bent my head…

Reno gasped, falling limp as I ran my tongue down, collecting blood. He tasted of copper and musk. He tasted of clean sweat and adrenaline and need. He wanted me.

And now, I wanted him.

I worked free of my shirt, feeling Reno’s capable hands helping me. His touch made me boil inside. I bit down, hearing his ragged breathing as I broke his skin.

“Oh, shit,” he swore. “Yeah, I like it rough.” He unfastened my pants, his breathing accelerating. Tugging, he freed my hips of the black leather. “That’s the spirit,” he urged. “Cut loose on me, Valentine.”

I didn’t have a choice now. Chaos fed my yearning, insisted I find release with Reno’s willing body.

My gloves and gauntlet came off, falling beside us.

I leaned back, working the clamps loose on my boots. Reno spread his hands over my chest, running down, down to the gapping waistband of my trousers. “You’re so fucking sexy,” he groaned. “I’ve thought about you every day.” He helped me free myself of clothing, then tore at his own pants while his eyes devoured my erection.

Panting, I stared at his smooth, nearly hairless body. His slender hips and flat stomach showed the source of all that grace I’d admired. His lanky body, slightly smaller than mine, displayed his muscle well. I reached for his cock, feeling my own jump.

This seemed alien to me, odd but not bad.

Reno’s large eyes stared up into mine as I gripped him. They lowered in pleasure, a sigh escaping him as I began to stroke. He felt firm, hot and silky. My groin tightened up.

“Ah,” Reno almost whispered. “Gentle and rough. You’re a man of contrasts, Vincent Valentine.”

I shook, feeling him reach out to touch me the way I touched him. He applied pressure to my head, pushing his fist over and around tightly. I gasped at the slick warmness, looking down to see him toss a small tube to the pew. Once again I felt a flare of anger toward him. He’d brought lubrication for this. Though glad, it just added a new dimension to his culpability.

He really, really wanted me to screw him.

“Goddamn,” he said, half groaning. “You’re still thinking too much. I can see it in your pretty red eyes.” He reached up with his dry hand, grabbing my crest of hair and fisting. My head jerked a little as he shook me. “Stop it,” he said firmly. “Listen to that beast inside you for awhile, not your bleeding conscience.”

His barely forceful reminder set a match to me. Growling, I rolled with him into the floor, kicking pews backward for room. I pinned his arms, painfully aware of the slick lubrication on my cock. Our breath stirred up the dust. I watched it settle in his hair, illuminated by the sun’s last dying light.

He lifted his pelvis impossibly high, bringing us together. The slide of our cocks together made me moan and tremble. “I’ll break you to this one way or the other,” he vowed, his voice rasping.

“Be careful, Reno,” I cautioned, my own voice coming out ragged. “You might be the one broken.”

Reno’s eyes rolled in delight. “Oh hell, Vincent,” he gasped, “I’ve been waiting to hear your voice like that.” He wormed an arm free, threading it between us. “Sexy, sexy fucking growl, and all for me.” I felt him grip me once more. He adjusted me, rolling his hips until I hovered at his entrance. “But, talk later; right now you fuck me.”

I looked into his hot, pleading eyes and pushed.

Reno, arms liberated, grabbed at my sides. Inhaling sharply, he arched his back. A whimper tore free of his throat.

Chaos surged.

He was tight, tight and searing. A woman never gripped me this way. Reno’s greedy channel clutched and massaged every inch I forced. I threw my head back, snarling, and drove into him hard, listening to him struggle for breath. His legs gripped the backs of my thighs, heels pulling me even closer.

Hot stars burst behind my eyes as Reno’s fingers twisted my flat nipples to peaks. I knocked his arms away, swinging them back to the floor where they belonged. He wanted this, wanted me, and now he had me.

But, I had him.

I slowed, savoring the plunge, loving how he fought me. Every coil and curl of his body made his clenching firm. I stretched him, driving forcefully, hitting bottom.

The smell of his musk and sweat, his passion and fear made me insane. I felt my teeth pushing down, the incisors pointing while the canines curved. Power rushed through my blood stream, feeding the might and muscle of Chaos. I choked down the transformation, desperate to feel this as a man and not a beast.

“Vincent,” Reno panted, still urging me on with his legs and heels.

“Reno,” I answered, rumbling deep in my chest. I met his eyes, seeing his enjoyment, seeing his love for this. It gave me the distance I needed from the beast. I slowed, reaching for his cock but never stopping my rhythm. I needed him now and he would satisfy me.

I touched him the way I liked to be touched, listening to him gasp. He writhed under me, his one free hand tangling in my hair.

“Holy Shiva,” he whimpered. “No one’s ever-.”

I didn’t care. This was the way I wanted to fuck him. If I educated him along the way, so be it. My groin burned white hot, wanting release, but I would hold out until he came. His other, selfish partners would fall into the void. He was mine.

I rolled onto my back. “Ride me,” I commanded, taking up the lube to pour a generous amount on his straining flesh. “Ride me, Turk.”

Reno obeyed, poising himself over me and plunging down, his face drawn in bliss and pain. “Son of a bitch, Vincent,” he breathed, bracing a hand on the pew.

I jerked him while he labored, watching him come closer and closer to climax. His beautiful body shivered and sweated, muscles rolling. That cherry red hair spilled loose over his shoulders, worked free of his ponytail. Mouth open, eyes staring upward, he began to shake and I knew I had him.

Still stroking, I rolled again, sitting up only briefly. In seconds I had him aloft, fucking him upright. I was strong, strong enough to hold him up with one arm while fisting his needy cock. “Come, Reno,” I growled. I felt ready to explode but I needed him to go first.

A sound like dying eased from Reno’s throat. He spasmed, thrashing and clenching, my name escaping him over and over. Scorching semen jetted onto my chest as he came again and again. In two more strokes I joined him, roaring my satisfaction.

So long, so long to go without this release. How could I have denied myself this pleasure? It threatened to turn me inside out and I loved every boiling jerk in my balls.

He slumped over me, his shattered breaths blowing hot against my neck. “Vincent, oh god,” he moaned. Hands clutching my back, he gave a mighty tremor and went still.

I felt the drug leaving my system. Slowly, I pulled free of him, but I still held him close.

I had enjoyed this. I wanted more.

And, I still wanted him.

Slowly, Reno stirred. His lips dragged over my ear. “What now?” he asked softly. “I’m surprised you haven’t thrown me out a window.”

A chuckle escaped me. Maddening, incorrigible Turk…

“Your gambit paid off,” I told him.

Reno laughed weakly. “Next time, kiss me,” he said.