ADVENT: Paying Up (Final Fantasy VII)
Title: Paying Up
Fandom: Final Fantasy VII
Pairing: Reno/Rude. Sort of.
Disclaimer: Not mine, don't sue! Just trying to spread non-profit christmassy joy, and if you sue me Santa may leave you coal.
Summary: Reno bets Rude 50 gil that he can't sing a Christmas carol and learns to live with his deals.
Notes: Crack!fic written both for Star0Alchemist over on DA and my partner Kit. Its your faults that I'm stuck on these two!
“On the twelfth day of Xmas my partner gave to me ~”
Heads snapped around so quickly a handful of regulars had to rub necks that had twitched painfully at the sudden movement. Rude, standing on his chair next to a sitting and gobsmacked Reno, grinned at the room and continued. Reno tried to pull him down by his pants, but failed.
“Twelve shots of vodka!
An eleven inch dildo,
Ten nude photos,
Nine flavours of lube!”
“Ok, ok, Rude. Get down now.” Reno demanded, pulling harder but without luck. Rude stayed his ground, a surprisingly pleasant baritone rolling out over the bar. Tifa stopped where she stood, fingers still curled around Elena’s cold glass.
“Damn...”
“I know.”
“Eight ‘songs’ on the jukebox!”
“Dude, not cool!” Reno cried, poking the singing Turk with his deactivated EMR. It wasn’t the suggestion; it was the air quotes that offended him. Turks didn’t do air quotes.
“Seven new pairs of sunglasses, -“
“You wish!”
“- Six novelty wigs, -“
“You chrome dome!”
“- Five empty bottles of Jack!” This time the big man’s hand came down fast to cover the red head’s mouth, forestalling any more interruptions of his musical efforts by the idiot. The regulars had begun to clap along with the rhythm, and Reno’s huff of annoyance was greeted only by Strife’s smirk.
“Four kinds of explosive,
Three sets of handcuffs,
Two new materia,
Annnd a jolt from his EMR!”
Applause and laughter joined Reno’s spluttering as he was finally released from the iron grip so that Rude could climb down again. You had to know the bald man to see the victorious little smirk for what it was.
“You’re a bastard Rude! You know that? You could’ve just sung me a line of silent night or something, you dick! Didn’t have to put all that outta your ass!” Reno growled good-naturedly, handing over the 50 gil when his partner silently held out his hand for his winnings. “Jeeze, yo. Gonna kill my rep here.”
“Be careful what you ask for then, partner.” Rude smirked, pushing his sunglasses neatly back into place.
Fandom: Final Fantasy VII
Pairing: Reno/Rude. Sort of.
Disclaimer: Not mine, don't sue! Just trying to spread non-profit christmassy joy, and if you sue me Santa may leave you coal.
Summary: Reno bets Rude 50 gil that he can't sing a Christmas carol and learns to live with his deals.
Notes: Crack!fic written both for Star0Alchemist over on DA and my partner Kit. Its your faults that I'm stuck on these two!
“On the twelfth day of Xmas my partner gave to me ~”
Heads snapped around so quickly a handful of regulars had to rub necks that had twitched painfully at the sudden movement. Rude, standing on his chair next to a sitting and gobsmacked Reno, grinned at the room and continued. Reno tried to pull him down by his pants, but failed.
“Twelve shots of vodka!
An eleven inch dildo,
Ten nude photos,
Nine flavours of lube!”
“Ok, ok, Rude. Get down now.” Reno demanded, pulling harder but without luck. Rude stayed his ground, a surprisingly pleasant baritone rolling out over the bar. Tifa stopped where she stood, fingers still curled around Elena’s cold glass.
“Damn...”
“I know.”
“Eight ‘songs’ on the jukebox!”
“Dude, not cool!” Reno cried, poking the singing Turk with his deactivated EMR. It wasn’t the suggestion; it was the air quotes that offended him. Turks didn’t do air quotes.
“Seven new pairs of sunglasses, -“
“You wish!”
“- Six novelty wigs, -“
“You chrome dome!”
“- Five empty bottles of Jack!” This time the big man’s hand came down fast to cover the red head’s mouth, forestalling any more interruptions of his musical efforts by the idiot. The regulars had begun to clap along with the rhythm, and Reno’s huff of annoyance was greeted only by Strife’s smirk.
“Four kinds of explosive,
Three sets of handcuffs,
Two new materia,
Annnd a jolt from his EMR!”
Applause and laughter joined Reno’s spluttering as he was finally released from the iron grip so that Rude could climb down again. You had to know the bald man to see the victorious little smirk for what it was.
“You’re a bastard Rude! You know that? You could’ve just sung me a line of silent night or something, you dick! Didn’t have to put all that outta your ass!” Reno growled good-naturedly, handing over the 50 gil when his partner silently held out his hand for his winnings. “Jeeze, yo. Gonna kill my rep here.”
“Be careful what you ask for then, partner.” Rude smirked, pushing his sunglasses neatly back into place.