Fic: Applications of Logic (Final Fantasy VII, Reno/Rude)
Title: Applications of Logic
Fandom: Final Fantasy VII
Pairing: Reno/Rude
Rating: PG-13 for bad language and inexplicit slash
Dedicated: pennies_4_eyes - happy birthday my love!
Word Count: 1026
Summary: Reno, Rude, and promises made over a bomb.
Reno liked categories , regardless of what his appearance might have suggested. He liked things that were neat and tidy, even if - no, especially if - their end results were somewhat more colourful. Sharp blades, well-cut suits, self-destruction sequences - neat and tidy, with a side-order of flash. All things considered, it wasn't such a surprise that his preferred vices were whisky, explosives, and Rude.
Today he already had two out of three going for him, and he was definitely due a glass or five of whisky later. It wasn't often someone actually had the balls to follow up on a bomb threat to the Shinra building, and even less often that they planted something that could be remotely effective.
Rude had called him ahead of Tseng, knew that as efficient as their boss was, he didn't have Reno's speed or ability to drop everything in an instant. Being a Turk was a full-time job, but for most Turks it was just a day job where you happened to be on call 24/7; for their boss it meant fourteen hour days, sometimes longer. Rude couldn't keep the slow spell on the explosive's timer going forever without assistance, and the more time they had to disarm the device, the better.
Light green, dark green, light red, dark red. Reno wondered for a moment if any of the rival organisations or terrorist groups with a thing against Shinra had to sit through lectures on equality or if they had thrown in colour-blind unfriendly wiring out of spite.
"You owe me dinner," Reno announced, biting his lip as he separated the wires out a little further, careful not to pull on any hard enough to dislodge them.
Rude grunted, unimpressed. "Why?"
"You interrupted mine. On noodle day." Reno glanced up, saw Rude nod, and also saw a stiffness in his jaw that had nothing to do with their discussion. "I've got ether with me if you want some."
"Two minutes," Rude said. "If you're not finished then, I'll need it."
Reno fought down a grin, knowing Rude would take it the wrong way if he didn't, returned his attention to the circuit in front of him. Rude never accepted potions or their like unless he absolutely had to, never had been entirely happy using them for as long as Reno had known him. They had both come from the slums but wore its scars in different ways; Reno was a spendthrift, always expected to go back to nothing and held onto nothing so he couldn't get sentimental. Rude was more pragmatic, actually kept savings accounts and not just in Midgar either, preparing for the worst while expecting he would survive to see it. Reno wasn't sure which prospect was more depressing, but it was good to know they both had plans for a downer ending.
"If I'm honest," Reno said, thinking out loud for his own sake so he would have more room in his head for mapping out the bomb's wiring, "I'm fifty-fifty on which one's the trigger. Have you got any lightning materia?" Rude shook his head, and Reno scratched the back of his own. "Shit."
He'd won card games on worse odds. Reno patted Rude on the leg, took a deep breath, and cut the wire he had a better gut feeling about. Another curse slipped out when the bomb chose not to explode but the milliseconds on the timer continued counting down regardless, and he quickly cut the second, yanking his hand away as the taut wire sprang back.
The counter stopped, but Reno didn't feel any safer for it.
"Okay," Reno said, standing up, "Being alive is great, but that's... weird."
Rude said nothing, pulled off the wrist cuff holding his materia and tossed it aside before shoving Reno up against the pillar their apparently neutralised bomb was strapped to and kissing him hard.
"I know, I'm awesome," Reno replied, still distracted by the illogical circuit even as he dug his fingers into the damp skin at the back of Rude's neck; Rude might have lacked the hair for trapping sweat but a stressful situation and a basement that was too damned hot had taken its effect.
"Yes, you are," Rude agreed, and Reno shut his eyes as Rude's kiss lost its casual appeal and became decidedly more suggestive, one hand slipping under Reno's shirt as a taste of what was due later. After the promised dinner, of course.
Rude's nails scratched lightly along his back and Reno grinned, the last puzzle piece of the circuit sliding into place and setting him at ease. "It's a blood trigger," Reno said, interrupting their kiss so he could show off just how brilliant he was. "The second one. That snap should have cut me. They banked on someone getting Soldiers to defuse the bomb." And no doubt about it, Soldiers being expendable, President Shinra probably would have thrown a handful of them at the problem if he'd been aware of it. Rookies expected bombs to be built by the books, didn't look for triggers where they ought not to be, thought a crossed wire or two was the worst to be found.
Rude lowered his hands and pulled away, though not before licking once along Reno's neck. "Tseng's clean-up crew should be here in five. Lets go."
"Avoiding paperwork?" Reno teased, picking up Rude's wrist cuff and shoving it in the same box he used for the rest of his tools. "That's not like you."
"Avoiding time with your clothes on," Rude corrected, and Reno found himself involuntarily planning a course to the nearest room with a lockable door before his stomach interrupted said plans with a loud gurgle.
"Noodles first," Reno said with some reluctance. At least then he'd have the stamina for it. "Then I rip your clothes off."
Rude led the way, and if they only made it as far as Reno's car rather than his apartment after dinner, no one could have blamed them. After a day of slow spells, a fast night made sense.
Whisky could wait for the morning. Hangovers were more fun in the evening anyway.
The End
Fandom: Final Fantasy VII
Pairing: Reno/Rude
Rating: PG-13 for bad language and inexplicit slash
Dedicated: pennies_4_eyes - happy birthday my love!
Word Count: 1026
Summary: Reno, Rude, and promises made over a bomb.
Reno liked categories , regardless of what his appearance might have suggested. He liked things that were neat and tidy, even if - no, especially if - their end results were somewhat more colourful. Sharp blades, well-cut suits, self-destruction sequences - neat and tidy, with a side-order of flash. All things considered, it wasn't such a surprise that his preferred vices were whisky, explosives, and Rude.
Today he already had two out of three going for him, and he was definitely due a glass or five of whisky later. It wasn't often someone actually had the balls to follow up on a bomb threat to the Shinra building, and even less often that they planted something that could be remotely effective.
Rude had called him ahead of Tseng, knew that as efficient as their boss was, he didn't have Reno's speed or ability to drop everything in an instant. Being a Turk was a full-time job, but for most Turks it was just a day job where you happened to be on call 24/7; for their boss it meant fourteen hour days, sometimes longer. Rude couldn't keep the slow spell on the explosive's timer going forever without assistance, and the more time they had to disarm the device, the better.
Light green, dark green, light red, dark red. Reno wondered for a moment if any of the rival organisations or terrorist groups with a thing against Shinra had to sit through lectures on equality or if they had thrown in colour-blind unfriendly wiring out of spite.
"You owe me dinner," Reno announced, biting his lip as he separated the wires out a little further, careful not to pull on any hard enough to dislodge them.
Rude grunted, unimpressed. "Why?"
"You interrupted mine. On noodle day." Reno glanced up, saw Rude nod, and also saw a stiffness in his jaw that had nothing to do with their discussion. "I've got ether with me if you want some."
"Two minutes," Rude said. "If you're not finished then, I'll need it."
Reno fought down a grin, knowing Rude would take it the wrong way if he didn't, returned his attention to the circuit in front of him. Rude never accepted potions or their like unless he absolutely had to, never had been entirely happy using them for as long as Reno had known him. They had both come from the slums but wore its scars in different ways; Reno was a spendthrift, always expected to go back to nothing and held onto nothing so he couldn't get sentimental. Rude was more pragmatic, actually kept savings accounts and not just in Midgar either, preparing for the worst while expecting he would survive to see it. Reno wasn't sure which prospect was more depressing, but it was good to know they both had plans for a downer ending.
"If I'm honest," Reno said, thinking out loud for his own sake so he would have more room in his head for mapping out the bomb's wiring, "I'm fifty-fifty on which one's the trigger. Have you got any lightning materia?" Rude shook his head, and Reno scratched the back of his own. "Shit."
He'd won card games on worse odds. Reno patted Rude on the leg, took a deep breath, and cut the wire he had a better gut feeling about. Another curse slipped out when the bomb chose not to explode but the milliseconds on the timer continued counting down regardless, and he quickly cut the second, yanking his hand away as the taut wire sprang back.
The counter stopped, but Reno didn't feel any safer for it.
"Okay," Reno said, standing up, "Being alive is great, but that's... weird."
Rude said nothing, pulled off the wrist cuff holding his materia and tossed it aside before shoving Reno up against the pillar their apparently neutralised bomb was strapped to and kissing him hard.
"I know, I'm awesome," Reno replied, still distracted by the illogical circuit even as he dug his fingers into the damp skin at the back of Rude's neck; Rude might have lacked the hair for trapping sweat but a stressful situation and a basement that was too damned hot had taken its effect.
"Yes, you are," Rude agreed, and Reno shut his eyes as Rude's kiss lost its casual appeal and became decidedly more suggestive, one hand slipping under Reno's shirt as a taste of what was due later. After the promised dinner, of course.
Rude's nails scratched lightly along his back and Reno grinned, the last puzzle piece of the circuit sliding into place and setting him at ease. "It's a blood trigger," Reno said, interrupting their kiss so he could show off just how brilliant he was. "The second one. That snap should have cut me. They banked on someone getting Soldiers to defuse the bomb." And no doubt about it, Soldiers being expendable, President Shinra probably would have thrown a handful of them at the problem if he'd been aware of it. Rookies expected bombs to be built by the books, didn't look for triggers where they ought not to be, thought a crossed wire or two was the worst to be found.
Rude lowered his hands and pulled away, though not before licking once along Reno's neck. "Tseng's clean-up crew should be here in five. Lets go."
"Avoiding paperwork?" Reno teased, picking up Rude's wrist cuff and shoving it in the same box he used for the rest of his tools. "That's not like you."
"Avoiding time with your clothes on," Rude corrected, and Reno found himself involuntarily planning a course to the nearest room with a lockable door before his stomach interrupted said plans with a loud gurgle.
"Noodles first," Reno said with some reluctance. At least then he'd have the stamina for it. "Then I rip your clothes off."
Rude led the way, and if they only made it as far as Reno's car rather than his apartment after dinner, no one could have blamed them. After a day of slow spells, a fast night made sense.
Whisky could wait for the morning. Hangovers were more fun in the evening anyway.
The End