Fanfic100 stuff again...
Theme 77: What?
I love you,
Reno hisses, eyes closed, hands wrapped tightly in Rude's shirt, spitting the words between kisses and shallow gasps
and then both the support of Rude's arms around his back and the support of his own holding himself up suddenly stops existing and Reno stumbles backward against the wall as the echo of the phrase registers in both their ears.
Rude stares at him; Reno stares back; two pairs of cracking sunglasses lie on the floor, ignored.
All Reno can taste is blood, from where he's bitten down on his tongue too hard.
All Reno can feel is relief, that Rude doesn't ask him to repeat that.
But that's alright for now because they're used to blood and Rude-not-talking anyway, and he doesn't hear any complaints from Rude when he grabs his shirt and pulls him closer once again, maybe in desperation, maybe in anger, maybe both, maybe neither.
All he knows is he doesn't want to think any more about what he's done, what might happen, what any of it might mean. The sex is terrible, messy and fumbling like drugged-up virgins. But then, maybe that's all on purpose, and Reno thinks he prefers it that way.
At the same time, all he wants is now and all he wants is for now to be over and done with. And then it is, gone far too fast and having gone on for far too long.
And when Rude turns at the door and Reno raises a hand in goodbye--can't say Later anymore--he's pretty sure Rude doesn't want to have any lingering good memories of the last time, either.
Night, Rude says,
and as soon as the door slides shut, Reno's on the phone looking for a new apartment, preferably one with walls that haven't been stained by his own fucking mouth.
No one important is ever going to walk back into this one, anyway.
Reno is going to make damn sure of it.