the final fantasy anonymous kink meme
I have made this post public again despite leaving LJ to allow people to save their own fics, etc.
Since this kind of thing seems to be spreading LJ-wide, I thought it was time we had one. ;) The original, I believe, is the Bleach Kink Meme, and there's a master list of others here. ;)
So...
The Final Fantasy Anonymous Kink MemeWhat is it? It's ( Read more... )
Since this kind of thing seems to be spreading LJ-wide, I thought it was time we had one. ;) The original, I believe, is the Bleach Kink Meme, and there's a master list of others here. ;)
So...
The Final Fantasy Anonymous Kink MemeWhat is it? It's ( Read more... )
“Okay, you gotta tell me if I overreacted here.”
“Fix your tie.”
Reno shot the big man a dubious look as he reached up to tighten the knot. “You know, I could really do with some sympathy here. I'm having, like, a real emotional crisis.”
The long hallway was silent save for the click of their shoes on the tiles, but Rude grinned broadly, his teeth starkly white against the shadows on his dark skin, and Reno figured that was good enough. “So this girl I've been seeing, you know, I told you I totally love her but she keeps fucking around with her ex?”
“You were gonna kill him.”
“Yeah, that guy, I know I told you. Anyway, I been begging and begging her not to do anything with him anymore, and she said she wasn't, so I'm like, awesome! But she keeps going out on Saturdays, says she's seeing her friends, girl's night out, you know, they paint their toenails and smoke tampons or whatever it is they do. I'm like, whatever, you gotta have friends, I don't need to be in your pocket all the time, go do your thing!
“But, you know, you know me, I'm not real suspicious, but I just had a real bad feeling about the whole thing. So last night after she came over, when she was sleeping? I got her PHS, right, and I looked in her text messages, and wouldn't you fucking know it but it's all full of sexy bullshit from this prick! I mean, fucking unreal! She hasn't been going out with her buddies, she's been seeing this asshole! She sucked his dick a few hours ago, and then comes to my house and gets in bed with me all nice like it's no big deal! I mean, what the fuck!
“So I'm real mad, you know, and I figure I better get her out of my sight before something real bad happens, you know? So I wake her up and we're all yelling and swearing, and she's all sorry and crying and shit, and I'm like what the fuck ever, and she won't get out! So I'm like, okay, enough of this, and I grab her bag, and I grab her and throw her over my shoulders and cart her downstairs! I really should have just gone back up and locked the door, but it's kind of a shitty neighborhood and I wanted to make sure she'd get home safely, so I shove her in the car with her shit and away we go.
“So I'm driving, and she's still apologizing and freaking out and stuff, but I ain't having any of it. We get to her place pretty quick, and she still won't get out of the fucking car! Now, I'm not interested in doing all of this dramatic breakup bullshit right out on the street for everybody to see, but she just won't fucking go! So I lean over and open the door, and she didn't have her seatbelt on, so I just shove her out, and I got all tangled up in the strap of her, you know, her purse thing, and I chucked that out after her. Then I just took off, man.” Reno sighed, though it was unclear whether it was due to unhappiness at reliving the previous night's sturm und drang, or mere lack of breath after his excited recitation of events. “I checked to make sure she wasn't near the tires or anything.”
Rude remained silent as they made their way down the empty main corridor of the 77th floor for a long time, his hands folded behind his back, almost as if he hadn't been listening. Finally, he gave a slight shake of his head. “So your girlfriend is cheating on you, and you drag her out of your house and throw her out of a moving vehicle.”
“It wasn't moving, man, I ain't like that! I wasn't trying to, you know, hurt her, I just wanted her out of my face.”
“Oh. That's totally different then.”
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Reno shot him a sidelong glance. “You know, man, it'd be really easy to get the impression that you were being all sarcastic about this, and I really don't need that right now.”
A slight lift of Rude's bulky shoulders. “What am I supposed to say?”
“I mean, I didn't, like, beat her up or anything.” He frowned, thinking. “I did grab her by the hair, but that was only after she started beating her head on the window.”
Rude turned his head to regard his partner for the first time, eyes inscrutable behind his ever-present shades. “What?”
Reno shrugged. “Yeah, she does that when we're fighting, she'll bash her head on stuff so I'll be, you know, sympathetic, get her to stop hurting herself. I wasn't in the mood for all of that sweet-talk shit, though, so I just yanked her back.”
Rude gave a short bark of laughter. “Oh, man.”
“What? I mean, seriously, what, am I supposed to just sit there and let her brain herself?”
“You know, I was getting ready to get all mad at you about this, but you know what? You need to make up with that girl, pronto. You two are peas in a pod, Reno; soulmates.” He held up a hand with his fingers crossed.
“Look, all I'm saying is, if I can't trust her not to go around sucking guys' dicks, she shouldn't be able to trust me not to go throwing her out of a car--”
“Shut up. We're on.”
And, indeed, they had finally reached the immense double doors that demarcated the presidential suite from the rest of the Shinra complex. Reno sighed unhappily, but gave himself a brief shake, straightening his back and raking his fingers through his bangs. Rude stood beside him, breaking his formal parade rest stance to reach up and tilt his sunglasses down for the retinal scan. Their credentials thus confirmed, the hidden pressure locks holding the doors closed hissed in release, and were ponderously swung open by the team they were coming to relieve.
Their two fellow Turks stepped out cautiously, ostentatiously inspecting them to ensure they were who they were appeared to be; a little showy, to be sure, but there had been a pretty nasty incident involving a severed hand and a plucked-out eyeball the year previous, and the department was still pretty keyed-up about it. The formalities seen to, the two teams exchanged brief nods as the watch was handed over, the two on the previous shift walking away without a word; pretty cold, but there had also been a nasty incident involving some whispered gossip being overhead by its subject, and it wasn't worth risking your job over a heads-up that the boss was a little crabby today.
Still, Reno didn't expect a whole lot of drama; unless things had gotten very different, very quickly, they were just going to be riding herd on the kid tonight. The heir to the empire was a surprisingly agreeable sort most of the time, and was largely consumed with passing his exit exams these days; he'd probably spend an hour or three with his nose in a book before conking out for the night, leaving Reno and Rude to watch muted television until the day shift arrived in its turn to relieve them. No biggie.
Yeah, there were worse ways to make a living than watching the tube in surroundings that would make a king green with envy. Rude moved off to make a cursory sweep of the quarters, and Reno stepped into the center of the living room. “Hey, kiddo! What's shaking?”
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“Hang on a sec!” a young voice called from the depths of the apartment, and a moment later Rufus Shinra appeared, fresh from the shower, his loose pajamas clinging to wet patches of skin, his blond hair swaying in damp tendrils about his face. He was in that awkward phase of hair growth, just enough to get in the way, not enough to actually do anything with. Reno could empathize; he had been in that stage himself when he had finally said “fuck it!” and clipped his bangs short, letting the tail grow as it would. “What's up?”
“Same old, same old,” Reno responded amiably. Rude, having finished twitching curtains aside and peering under furniture, made his way back to the rest of the apartment to satisfy himself that no assassins lurked there. “You know how it goes. You still hitting them books?”
Rufus grinned and gestured toward the piles covering the desk in the corner, nearly obscured beneath a mound of loose papers. “You know it.” Reno ambled over, and attempted reading the title of one upside down.
“Macroeconomics: A Stock... no, A Stochastic Method of Analysis.” Reno shook his head wonderingly. “Man, I don't even know what that means! When I was in high school I didn't even make it to statistics, man, they just put me in trig for stupids.”
“And that's why I'm going to run all this some day, and you're going to be keeping me from getting scragged while I do it.” The kid's sunny smile took any sting out of the words; while he still said plenty of dumb stuff, he was just a kid, and he had the charisma to make up for it. Hell, if he turned out to be even half the president he seemed to think he would, Reno figured they'd all be in pretty good shape.
“Point, man, you've definitely got a point there.” He gave the living room a quick inspection; tidy as it ever got, no sign of dinner remnants, no company... “So, you need us for anything in particular tonight, or are we just passing time?”
“Yeah, pretty much.” Rufus tucked his lank wet hair behind his ears as he made his way over to the desk. “I'm about ready to fall over, but I really need to get through this chapter; then it's lights out.” He sat down and flipped the massive tome open to the marked place. “There's some beer in the fridge if you guys want.”
“Cool, cool, but you know your old man would skin us if he found out.” Rufus rolled his eyes dismissively, but said no more. “Well, look, kiddo, you just holler if you need anything, alright?”
“Will do.” Rufus raised a finger in what might have been a vague attempt at a salute, but he was already engrossed in the book before him; it probably took a lot of brainpower to wrap your head around crazy stochastic crap, and anyway, it wasn't like the kid even needed to talk to them at all-his mama sure didn't. Complacent, Reno made his way over to one of the stuffed sofas and sat down, resting his elbows on his knees.
It really wasn't as glamorous as people seemed to think, being a bodyguard, even for the most important people on the planet. Mostly, it was just like this: sitting. Standing. Maybe getting to lean up against something to get the ache off your feet. The big trick was being able to wait, to just exist in the moment and let everything pass over you without getting all fidgety or going nuts from the boredom... because you still had to be on the ball. Even when you'd been doing nothing but keeping your eyeballs from drying out for the last six hours, six days, six years, stuff still popped up; even in the safest, most secure, most boring places, stuff popped up, and you had to be able to pop right back at it without missing a beat. That was what killed you, usually; not being too slow or too weak or not good enough, but simply being zoned out, not on the ball, missing that one crucial step you needed to keep ahead.
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So he sat.
Rude still hadn't reappeared, so he was probably looking at the surveillance stuff on the kid's computer; it was a little unnerving, knowing that a teenage boy had access to pretty much every useful piece of information within a mile's radius, but it sure made keeping an eye on things convenient when they were on duty here. He'd probably be awhile; Rude was clever at that kind of thing, liked to spend a lot of time poring over the stats and data and records. You'd never ever guess it to look at him, or even to listen to him-getting that guy to talk was like blood from a stone-but he was a pretty good guy to have at your back.
So he sat some more.
You learned to... well, not tune out, precisely, but to twist the knob a little bit so the station was coming in a little fuzzy, just enough so you were aware of it, but not so much it really intruded on you too much. Kind of like meditating, he supposed, though he figured the lamas back home would be pretty pissed to hear him sitting on his ass compared to their endeavors.
“Oh, wow.” Rufus yawned, kicking back from his desk and stretching; Reno perked up, unsure if that was meant for him or just a general remark. “Okay. This isn't making any sense. Why don't you tell me how the rising price of gelatin predicts inescapable economic collapse?”
“Uh...” Did the kid actually expect Reno to be able to expound on this kind of thing, or was he just bitching? “Has that got anything to do with the cost of cunt in Costa del Sol?”
Rufus snorted out a laugh and spun around in his chair, smirking. Okay, cool, the kid was just being chatty. “You know they make it out of chocobo beaks and stuff, right? Grind it up into powder. So if that's getting scarce...”
“Yeah, just the, uh, byproducts, I guess that means all the birds are gone.” Reno shrugged. “I dunno, kiddo, me? I'd be just as happy. You ever seen one of those things up close? They're big and nasty and smell like hell, and they'll kick the shit out of you as soon as look at you. I eat 'em out of spite.”
Rufus laughed again, rising to his feet with another stretch; he strolled over and plopped down at the other end of the sofa. “You never struck me as the farming type, Reno,” he said. “The riding kind are a lot easier to deal with.”
“Eh, I went on a field trip once. Never had much use for riding around on 'em, either; why bother with some big nasty bird when you can drive?”
“Dad makes me take lessons. It sucks, but he's got a real hard on about it; a fine and proper young gentleman ought to be able to acquit himself on the polo field, etcetera, etcetera. Mind you, it's not like he's ever been within thirty feet of one himself.”
“Well, you know, uh, your dad's a pretty smart guy, so he's probably got a good reason for it. Maybe it's one of those, you know, seven habits of highly effective people, or something.”
Rufus snorted again. “Perhaps,” he said dubiously. “I've been getting into a different sort of riding, lately.”
“Yeah?” The kid was about old enough for a driver's license now, and he seemed like the type to go for one of those crazy speed bikes.
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“Yeah.” Reno waited for Rufus to elaborate, but the kid merely regarded him with a flat, unreadable stare that he had no shame in admitting gave him the creeps. Sure, he was a nice enough kid, but if he ever really took it into his head to make it happen, he could have Reno disappeared without a trace. Not that he ever would, necessarily, but sometimes dealing with a teenage boy that could buy and sell you a billion times over was a little unnerving.
Rufus shrugged, settling back against the arm of the sofa. “So what do you do for fun?”
“Uh, me? Ah, you know, stuff. I'm not really that exciting. I just kind of hang around.”
“Have you got a girlfriend?”
“Yeah. Well, kinda. We just had a bit of a tiff... you know. Well, you probably don't, actually, what girl in her right mind would give you a hard time?” Reno grinned to hide the uneasiness this line of questioning was provoking; he really didn't like discussing his personal life with the boss-any of the bosses-and this was a little intense. “What about you? You've got a girl or something, right?”
“Something,” Rufus agreed with an inscrutable nod. “Most of it's just so boring, though.”
“Yeah, well.” Reno himself had never been a particular fan of the kinds of ice cream socials the kid was probably attending. “Trust me, it gets better.”
“Does it?” the kid asked, leaning forward intently. “How's that?”
“Well, you know.” Reno reached up to scratch the back of his neck, equally displeased with this new direction; hardly a great philosopher, he was still pretty sure he shouldn't be presuming to advise the son of President Shinra on how to run his life. “You get older, you get out from under your parents' thumbs, you get a lot more freedom to figure out what you wanna do. You don't have to ride around on birds if you don't want, you know?” He looked around, waving an arm to encompass the lavishly appointed room. “I mean, some day you're gonna have to look after all this; there's gotta be some compensations, right?”
He turned back to see how the kid was taking it, and was very proud of himself for not flinching: Rufus's hand was right before his eye, so close he could read the wrinkles, and soon the boy's thumb was stroking his cheek delicately, tracing the path of the deep red tattoos that slashed his cheekbones. “What about these?” he asked distantly. “Were these fun?”
Reno sucked in a deep breath between his teeth, feeling completely out of his depth. “Well, you know, tattoos sting real bad, and I think your mom at least would be real pissed if--”
But Rufus wasn't listening. He rose to his knees, looming over Reno, and darted forward, grabbing Reno's face with both hands as if to give the ink a closer inspection. His breath was hot on Reno's face, close enough to kiss, and Reno was officially creeped the fuck out. “Okay, whoa here for a sec, kiddo, if you wanna talk about something, that's cool, but I think you really need to--”
“Shh,” Rufus breathed into his ear, and his tongue darted out to flick the lobe; Reno froze liked a trapped rabbit as the kid's hand tightened on his tie.
“You want me to get out of here?”
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Both of their heads whipped around at the interruption, and Reno couldn't decide if he was more relieved or mortified to see Rude's solid bulk hovering in the doorway, his expression carefully blank. Whatever, this would snap the kid out of whatever freaky mood he'd gotten himself into, and they'd--
“Not at all,” Rufus replied, as casually as anything. “Come here.” He slipped his legs from beneath him and sat, scooting close to Reno to make room; Reno slid back as far as he could, but the arm of the sofa caught him, trapping him thigh to thigh with the kid. “Take a look in the end table drawer.”
Rude paused for a moment, then approached, stopping to direct the contents of the drawer as instructed. His expression didn't change as he hoisted the creases of his pants and sat beside Rufus, but he didn't close the drawer, either.
“So very blase! Do you guys talk about this stuff?” the kid asked with a lazy, sleepy grin. “Did you know this was coming? Been looking forward to it?” Reno shot Rude a frantic glance; what the fuck is he going on about? A raised eyebrow appeared behind the sunglasses, but whether that was meant as a response to him, the kid, or a mere comment on the increasingly fucked up situation they found themselves in, Reno couldn't guess.
Okay. Calm your nerves. This is just weird, it ain't scary. “Um. Look. Kiddo.” He raked a hand through his bangs. “Look, if you're... if you need to... I mean, okay, look, I know a lady who does out call stuff, I'm sure we can figure something out--”
“Why bother? I already have.” Rufus's fingers were brushing against his cheek again, trailing slowly along the curve of his jaw, the soft flesh of his throat. “Haven't you read any literature, Reno? One mustn't say no to princes.” The kid leaned forward, giggling against his neck, lips caressing his skin.
Oh fuck, oh Shiva, oh fuck. Okay, so marrying the boss's daughter was kinda the Shinra way, but this was, this was... oh, fuck! The kid was kissing him now, his mouth following the same path his fingers had taken, hot and wet against Reno's suddenly sensitive skin, and he looked imploringly at Rude, but got only a slight lift of the shoulders in return.
Rufus was working his way down Reno's chest now, not bothering to undo the buttons of his shirt, just nuzzling against the hard muscles of his torso, hands on Reno's shoulders as he intensified his explorations. Reno couldn't restrain a gasp when he felt the tugging on his belt buckle; the kid had bitten it, was tugging it with his teeth. Rufus looked up, that same cockeyed, crazy grin on his face. “What say we make it easy on you? A little on the job training?” he asked with a smothered laugh, reaching down to undo the belt and yank it out of its loops. He looked over his shoulder as he undid Reno's fly, seeming to size Rude up. “I trust you can figure out your part of the proceedings?” Rude made no audible reply, and if he nodded or shook his head, Reno was unaware of it; he squeezed his eyes shut as the kid's hand fished for his dick.
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He couldn't believe this. He couldn't fucking believe this. Wasn't there some union or something he could file a grievance with? He'd sat through the god damned sexual harassment videos when he'd first hired on, and this most definitely fucking qualified! But then again, maybe that was the whole scam; what dude was really going to stand up in front of an ombudsman and go “Yeah, my boss's teenage son raped me. No, he's half my size, and I'm totally not gay, by the way”? What the hell! But, hey, maybe it wasn't so bad; secretaries had been putting up with this kind of thing forever, and it seemed to work out alright for them. Maybe this was that whole feminism thing kicking in-equality for everybody in every situation?
Whatever. He couldn't see any good way out of this particular moment... and, hell, a blowjob was a blowjob.
He wasn't hard when Rufus first took him into his mouth, but that changed rapidly when the kid went to work; he was as talented as anybody else Reno had ever had on his knob. Nice lips, great tongue, long blond hair; it was pretty easy to lie back and think of Shinra, and he tried to do just that. A firm hand grabbed the base of his swelling shaft, lips around his head, tongue teasing his frenum, flicking and working the ridge... Aw, yeah.
Reno was a little startled when the kid moaned, the sound vibrating against his pelvis, and jumped when the kid's teeth scraped him as the kid suddenly shifted forward. He cracked an eyelid and saw Rude, pants around his knees, kneeling behind the kid... oh, man, Rude was actually fucking him, the kid's bobbing head being interrupted by Rude's thrusts. He seemed totally okay with it, too, his face still completely expressionless, just pumping away like he was at the gym or something. This is too fucking weird, Reno thought despairingly, and allowed himself to loll back, head hanging off the sofa arm, and just did his best not to think about the whole thing, just concentrate on that mouth, that rhythm, that... unh...
His fingers found their way into Rufus's hair, twining and pulling, pushing that busily moving mouth further down on his cock; most women hated head-grabbers, which was exactly why Reno enjoyed doing it, but fuck Rufus if he could dish it out but not take it. He was even starting to swell a little bit now, getting there, getting there... he bit his lip, instinctively trying to think of blitzball scores, but dismissed them just as quickly; if the kid thought he was a two-pump chump he might not pull this bullshit again and, really, this wasn't Reno's thing, he wasn't into this, he wasn't real worried about showing the kid a good time...
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...but the little fucker just moaned, practically gagging on Reno's cock, and he gave every appearance of being totally into it; Reno's pants were probably going to get jizzed on pretty soon if this kept up. He could feel the kid's hard on brushing against his calf as Rude's thrusts pressed him forward; he was into this, he was digging it, and man, what the hell was wrong with his head to get off on this kind thing? Be gay, sure, fuck around with the help, sure, but get a train run on you, get jerked and yanked and used and--
It took him hard and fast; he felt his balls start to tighten and then he was spurting, pulsing and throbbing, and oh holy fuck, was this worth it? Was this okay? The kid was just sucking it down, lapping it right up, and it felt pretty fucking amazing and, oh man, again and again and again and--
He exhaled roughly, sagging back against the sofa, his eyes rolling up to the ceiling as he lay back in utter exhaustion. The kid was still working on him, and he wanted to push him away-too sensitive-but wasn't quite ready to chance it. Rude was still working away on the kid, and for once, Reno was actually kind of glad he always wore those damn shades; he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to look him in the eye again after this.
What a way to make a fucking living.
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♥ at you!
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also E/N hahaha
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