Dog Will Hunt (12)
Nov. 1st, 2008 09:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jaded_grinWarnings: This is a very dark fiction, so please don't read this if you have a problem with emotional intensity, use of the word "cunt" or any general sort of squickishness.
Title: Dog Will Hunt
Rating: Mature (for adults only, so if you aren't one, I take no responsibility for any scarring you may receive!)
Description: Rufus ShinRa finds himself oddly drawn to his Turk, Reno. This is a dark fic that explores several issues for both men and isn't at all a pretty, happy story--but it ends well, I can promise that, and there' s loads of good smut!
Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VII or any of the Square Enix characters which appear in my story, nor do I make money off of my writing. I do it for the love, people! For the love!
12
“Why do you even bother?” Rufus asked him, yanking open his collar to loosen his shirt. He was irritated with Reno, irritated that the man could consider him such a trial, such a chore.
“You got your uses, yo,” Reno told him, that cigarette bobbing in the corner of his mouth as he spoke, his eyes squinting against the smoke while his hands languidly unbuttoned his shirt.
Once again, Rufus felt like every inch the john, paying for his pleasure. He wondered what on earth he’d become. How the mighty have fallen! His father was probably laughing in his grave to know that his pure bred, high class son actually paid this person to sleep with him. Someone who should be honored to be touched by him, someone who should be flattered and begging for his attention—but no, he paid that someone instead.
“Fuckin’ thinkin’ again, you dumb shit,” Reno laughed, and stubbed out his cigarette. “Look at you, Priss—all ready to cry.”
“Shut up,” Rufus told him, galled that he was at this point. He stalked off to his bedroom with Reno a lithe shadow behind him. Feeling testy, he snapped, “I don’t pay you to speak, dog.”
“That you certainly don’t,” Reno mused, assessing him with cagey eyes, shedding his shirt. “That’s extra, yo—sweet talk ain’t fuckin’ free.”
“Reno, the day I need affirmation from someone of your questionable morals is the day that I should be shot,” Rufus told him, not even slightly in the mood. He dropped his hands from his jacket, defeated. Before, the anticipation of touching Reno was enough to pull him through the man’s obnoxious company, but not even that could rouse him. Sighing, he turned to his bed and murmured, “Just go home, Reno. It isn’t worth it.”
“It’s what you make it, boss,” Reno said, and Rufus heard the soft creak of the dresser as Reno leaned against it, no doubt lounging in his usual lazy way. God alone knew why Reno couldn’t stand like a normal person. No, he had to drape like some kind of slinky feline.
“I don’t want to argue with you, dammit!” Rufus snapped, and took a deep breath to calm himself. A headache loomed and he pressed his fingers to his forehead, wincing as it made good its threat.
“You already bailed me, yo,” Reno reminded him.
“I don’t give a good god damn,” Rufus told him, and resumed undressing, this time with the intent to go to sleep.
“You ain’t getting it back.”
Why was he still here? For Christ’s sake! Any other day and he’d be hightailing it for the door practically skipping in joy to have his freedom! What, could he sense Rufus’s headache pounding? He was goddamned uncanny sometimes.
“Just keep it, Reno, Christ!” he spat, tossing his layers of shirts against the chair in something very near to a temper tantrum. He fumbled his belt open and shucked his pants off, stepping out of them towards the bed. “Go buy a whore, go buy drinks for every scumbag in Edge, go buy your mother flowers—I don’t care about the money. I’ve never cared about the money!”
He almost checked but saved himself, knowing his slight hesitation would make Reno reexamine that sentence and Rufus’s peculiar emphasis which had clearly stated that he cared about something where Reno was concerned. His aching head had made him careless around the one person who would probably rather kill him than entertain the notion that he might be…cared for.
He yanked back the covers and settled beneath them, feeling lonely and isolated. There were hundreds of women who would gladly share his bed, would listen avidly to his woes, who would care about him on command…but none of them knew the slightest about him, none of them were equals or even respected. As much as Reno drove him insane sometimes, Rufus greatly respected him and always had—he was an excellent Turk, an excellent killer, and he put up with years of ShinRa Senior’s bullshit. Was it so much to ask that the man just once respond to him like he was a person? Like he had feelings? Maybe Reno was just too used to being an emotionless, ticking time-bomb that he assumed everyone around him lacked human qualities, too.
“Lock the door on your way out,” he reminded, hoping Reno hadn’t lost his key somewhere. All of his Turks had keys to his penthouse in case some horror was to befall him and he needed them to come retrieve him.
There was a long silence, no sound of Reno even breathing. A few seconds later Rufus heard the snick of a lighter and smelled the faint smoke of a cigarette.
Annoyed, Rufus craned his head up and rolled half onto his back, sighing, “Reno, I can’t make myself any clearer—”
“Shut your shit, I don’t have my fuckin’ key,” Reno interrupted, moving to sit at the foot of the bed.
Rufus fell back with a tired sigh, whispering, “Great. I’ll have to have the place re-keyed again.”
“Ice it, yo,” Reno lowly told him. “It’s on my other ring, I left it at Nina’s on accident—I left everything, remember?”
Rufus flinched. He definitely didn’t need to be reminded that Reno spent so much time at the house of some woman named Nina, where he was distracted to the point that he forgot his ID and even his keys.
“So unless you wanna come lock the door behind me—”
“I’m going to bed,” Rufus breathed, rolling back over onto his side, facing away from Reno. “Lock the door and stay or leave it unlocked on your way out, I don’t give a fuck. I’m not in the mood for any more games tonight.”
“Didn’t know we were playin’ one, yo.”
“Everything is a game to you,” Rufus sighed. Even if Reno stayed, he wouldn’t stay in the same bed or even in the same room as Rufus. He would sooner stay the night in a dumpster than lie down next to his mark. On those rare occasions when Reno hadn’t cut and run, the morning had found him sprawled out on the uncomfortable couch, unwilling to even sleep at his side. It made Rufus feel oddly ugly and dismayed…what was wrong with him, then? How was his presence unbearable when drug addicts and trolling whores were acceptable? How had he toppled from the pinnacle of desirability to the last rung on the ladder? Was it his scars—those twisting, rippling, swirling scars that wound along his hip and belly and chest? It hurt his pride, it hurt his feelings. It hurt him even deeper than that...
This whole nasty affair was a terrible idea that should never have gotten started. Tomorrow was a new day. He would cut this ghastly business venture short and call it ended, no harm done. His fragile ego could only take so much and there was no trace of even a faint crack in Reno’s attitude towards him. All of his attempts to get closer to his intractable Turk, all of his attempts to understand him and know him had been rebuffed forcefully and seriously—Reno wanted nothing more from him than the extra gil, and all he was willing to do to get it was give Rufus the barest parts of himself, no more.
He started to drift off, only vaguely aware of Reno moving around. He very nearly roused himself to tell the man where the extra linens were, but he figured it was too much trouble when Reno would just scoff at his concern. He was already on the far side of sleep when the bed sank next to him.
Startled, he opened his eyes, wondering for a wild moment if Monica had somehow managed to reinvade his home.
There was a shift from the body next to him, a slight tug on the covers. Shocked, Rufus rolled slightly to look over his shoulder, better prepared to find an utter stranger lying there than his Turk.
Of course it was Reno, lying on his side facing away from Rufus. He clearly had no intentions of giving the man ideas—he was stretched out on top of the blankets, still wearing his pants, the long length of his ponytail making a trail over the light cover. The map of color on his slender back was muted by the dim light, but still clearly and sinuously following the curves and dips of his muscles. He looked gorgeous and edible in such a pose, with the sharp jut of his hip peeking over his waistband and the narrow sweep of his slender waist. He was right there, a touch away, and yet so unreachable he may as well be on another planet…
Rufus very nearly said the biting sentence that came to mind, that Reno could go ahead and take the whole fucking bed because Rufus had no intentions of invading his precious personal space like some kind of goddamned molester. It just seemed like too much effort to make for someone who believed such things. Reno’s touches were on the clock, paid for, not given for free—this was just his way of reminding his boss of that fact.
Exhausted and almost ill with disgust at himself, Rufus sank back against the pillow and softly told him, “No more, Reno. Just leave. I’d get more satisfaction from a blow-up doll without feeling like some kind of barely tolerated john. Leave the door unlocked, it doesn’t matter, just please go…”
“Why’s it bother you so much?” Reno asked, and he sounded oddly curious.
Sighing, Rufus explained, “You’d rather freeze than share a bed with me. You’d sleep in an alley before running the risk that I might touch you…I wanted you, Reno, but I never wanted this. I have enough in my life stressing me out than to go on pursuing something that disgusts you and makes me feel like some kind of sex offender. You got ‘paid’ for tonight, you didn’t have to put up with me—cut and run. Consider it severance pay. I’ll see you Monday morning.”
Reno rolled a little, lifting his head to peer at Rufus in the darkness.
“You’re such a goddamned girl, yo,” he snorted, and shoved himself off of the bed.
Rufus didn’t respond. Reno could insult him all the way to the front door, so long as he used it. Feeling relief overshadowed by something too keenly akin to grief for comfort, Rufus settled back into the soft covers to spend his lonely night in sleep.
A few minutes later the covers got snatched off of him. Groaning with annoyance—why wouldn’t he just go?—Rufus rolled onto his back and covered his face with both hands, moaning, “Please, Reno, no tantrums…”
“Shut the fuck up,” the man said, sounding cross.
The bed sank again and that lean, warm body was sliding in next to him utterly bare, stunning Rufus into wide-eyed shock.
“Reno! What the—”
“Quit fuckin’ squirming, you dumb fuck,” the man sourly cursed, yanking the covers over them with ill grace. He slumped down into the bed with a sigh of irritation before he rolled onto his side, once more away from Rufus.
His shock gave way to wariness, and Rufus lowly told him, “I’m not giving you any extra for this—”
“Go to sleep, god damn it!” Reno snapped, and fell still.
Rufus stared at the back of his head, the only part of him he could see. The radiant warmth of Reno’s body slowly seeped into him, and he tried to puzzle out why the man had stayed when Rufus had offered him a freebie and an end to something he hated doing. Was he just being contrary? When Rufus said “go” then Reno heard “stay”? Or had he sensed that Rufus was serious when he told him it was over? Did he need the money so badly that he couldn’t have Rufus call it quits? Turks got paid well for their service, and Rufus had paid off all of his debts so there shouldn’t be monetary issues…Still, it was only once Rufus had uttered his decision that Reno had altered his rigid rules, and Rufus wasn’t going to fool himself into thinking that the man simply didn’t want it to end. Romanticizing what the two of them shared was as laughable as it was folly. From the first Reno had made it clear that he only liked women—he had more personal interest in watching paint dry than he had in Rufus ShinRa.
Rufus rolled over to face that mapped and slender back and Reno stiffened, clearly expecting him to reach out.
Chastened, reminded of how unwelcome he truly was, Rufus rolled away and curled into a ball, wondering just where in the hell he’d gone wrong.
He woke in the middle of the night, roused from his feverish dreams by a hand clamping firmly over his moaning mouth. Bewildered, he blinked rapidly to find Reno looking down at him with that cool, detached look on his face.
“You woke me up, yo.”
Rufus very nearly apologized, but the hand prevented it and the situation was so ludicrous that he stopped himself. His body ached and he wished Reno wasn’t around so he could just take care of it and go back to sleep. Imagine that, having the key element to the very dream that had so aroused him present but wishing that same person gone. He didn’t even make sense to himself these days.
Reno’s hand twisted on his mouth but didn’t let up as he roughly rolled back onto his back, dragging Rufus atop him. How the slender, rangy man could always wrangle his own heavier body with such ease was a continuous mystery to Rufus, and he found himself focusing on it as he sat astraddle Reno’s narrow hips, that hand locked over his mouth. He looked down at his swollen cock, farther down to see where those tattoos joined on Reno’s lower belly. He felt the man’s free hand behind him, no doubt working himself into an erection.
Servicing the paying customer.
Rufus jerked his head back and pushed with both hands on that belly, intending to get up.
“Knock it off,” Reno snapped, and snatched him back one-handed.
“Let me up,” Rufus ordered, and avoided that palm to no avail—it slapped back over his mouth. Aggravated, he wrapped both hands around Reno’s slender wrist and pushed, pulling his head back again. “Reno, just go—”
“Keep it up and I’ll smack the shit outta you,” Reno warned him, and Rufus had no doubt that he meant it. “You’re paid up, you prissy shit—I ain’t owing you fuck-all.”
“I’m not in any mood—”
“I can see that,” Reno cut him off, and Rufus flushed, embarrassed that his erection so obviously invalidated his words. “Just shut your box and deal, yo.”
God, it was so impersonal it was almost funny. Reno lifted his squirming, resisting body and somehow managed to get Rufus to hold still long enough to get partially inside him. And that was all it took. Just that barest nudge and Rufus was pushing himself eagerly down on him, willfully impaling himself on all that hard, rigid heat. Reno’s hands took up their customary position at his hips, shoving him down on that relentless cock even as those sinewy hips snapped up in pitiless rhythm.
Rufus moaned, his head hanging and his soul hurting, his throbbing cock pulsing where it strained into empty air. Defeated, he arched forward over himself, letting the spill of his hair hide his body from Reno’s burning, impersonal eyes. He took his pleasure in private, knowing that the man would touch him no more than he had to.
Because Reno never really touched him. He offered his body, the stuff of Rufus’s fantasies, his hard grip on Rufus’s hips and his hard cock shoving inside him. He never closed that roughened palm around Rufus, never so much as brushed him there, never let his hands wander anywhere but his backside when he entered him and his hips while he fucked him.
It didn’t matter, just being filled by him was enough for Rufus—a few deep thrusts and he would clench and cum like a two-gil whore, arched over Reno’s body to hide that eruption from him. Sometimes he touched himself, but he never let Reno see him do it. And once he came, once he writhed on that fat cock, moaning like a godless slut, Reno would angle those narrow hips and work mechanically for his own release.
Sometimes Rufus wondered if he even enjoyed it at all, but he knew that Reno always came, filling him with rough thrusts. As he always said, a hole is a hole. He could have closed his eyes and imagined someone else.
But he didn’t.
He kept that steady, cool gaze on Rufus the whole time. He didn’t flinch from it.
Reno always owned what he did.
Rufus came abruptly, gasping a little, one frantic hand trying to contain the eruption, to keep it from spilling onto Reno’s washboard stomach. Reno’s pace picked up and those hips rammed into him, the faint pulse of his cock the only sign that he was coming as he thrust. When he was done, he gave Rufus a shove to get up, to get off of him, to stop touching him.
Rufus rolled away, flushed and sweating. He looked at Reno, a fucking wet-dream lying sprawled in his bed, not even out of breath. Those twisting tattoos mapped a path down both sides from beneath his arms, angling over his slim hips to converge above his groin, a frame of riotous color for the stark white beauty of his chest and belly and still-stiff cock with that wet, gleaming piercing.
Rufus wanted to say something to him, to tell him he was beautiful in that moment, his skin almost luminous in the dim light. Such a shame to cover it with such hideous, pointless images, but it suited him. Such a richness of deviant artistry so cleverly painted that his Turk uniform gave no hint of it existing, even with the indecent way Reno chose to wear his clothing—just those two slashes beneath his eyes, a mild hint to what lay beneath.
He was suddenly overcome by what had caused him such recent discontent. He wanted to know this strange and unpredictable man…and the chances of that happening were so nonexistent that it made him even more melancholy. Saddened, momentarily unable to control himself, he reached out just to touch him, to feel the silky texture of his smooth chest, to trace his fingers down the ridge of his belly to the point where those tattoos met.
Reno caught his wrist before Rufus even reached him, squeezing with painful, grim intent.
“You ain’t allowed touch me,” he said, his voice low with serious warning. “Ever.”
Rufus jerked his hand back, embarrassed and shamed, offended that he’d been rejected, shocked out his grief. He’d just been trying to…to…to what? Be closer to him? Appreciate him? Of course Reno would reject such a thing, he had no understanding of anything outside of himself, no care for others. He would no more understand wanting to touch someone with tenderness than he would understand quantum physics.
“You pay me, boss. You don’t fucking own me,” Reno snarled, his anger somehow out of proportion to Rufus’s innocent crime. The Turk wasn’t just angry, he was furious. “I’m not your goddamned lapdog.”
Finding an out for his temporary descent into the madness of actually caring for this rude, emotionless killing machine, Rufus coldly drew back, snapping, “No, Reno, you’re my goddamned watch dog.”
Reno breathed a soft curse in his direction and rolled over onto his stomach.
Rufus, aware that he was no longer being watched, simply looked at him, admiring those sinewy shoulders, the puddle of that long pony tail which coiled in ropes between his shoulder blades and trailed in a wisp down his upper back. Those disturbing, cavorting images were indistinguishable in the darkness, and Rufus was glad of it. The enormous tattoo that defiled Reno’s back bothered him on an instinctual level—angels being torn from the sky, dragged down by their demonic cousins to have their innocence eaten from them, gnawed away to leave the bare bones of despair.
“You don’t have to sulk,” he said, and was suddenly tired to tears, tired of it all.
It wasn’t enough anymore. At first, it had been—just the man himself, lusted after for so long, yearned for with such force. His mere presence in Rufus’s sex life had been such sensory overload that Rufus hadn’t had time to think of more. Now he wanted it. It wasn’t enough to have those hard hands digging into his hips while he was fucked so hard it hurt. It wasn’t enough to be able to open his eyes and see Reno’s handsome, impassive face before him. He wanted reaction, he wanted substance…he wanted to be needed as badly as he himself needed Reno. “I wasn’t petting you, Reno. I just...”
Reno pushed himself up effortlessly, the strong muscles of his biceps and corded forearms moving like silk beneath his inked skin as he shoved himself out of the bed. Silently, he began to dress.
“What are you doing?” Rufus asked, and his panic made him sound demanding, superior.
“I’m leaving, you goddamned twat,” Reno muttered, pausing a moment to light a cigarette. As soon as he took a deep drag, he straightened and pulled on his shirt, that colorful leanness where his belly narrowed into his loins showing behind his open fly. He didn’t bother to fasten his pants or button his shirt, he yanked his jacket on and jammed his feet into his unlaced combat boots. With a tug to free his ponytail, he headed for the door.
“Reno!”
His Fastest Turk flew him the bird over his shoulder and strode out of his suite. A moment later the front door slammed, and Rufus was left all alone in his big, cold bed.
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Date: 2008-11-02 04:00 am (UTC)I need my stuffie....
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Date: 2008-11-02 01:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-02 06:39 pm (UTC)Cats make me happy.
I may have a dog (children force us to do many distasteful things) but my preferred pets are feline (aside from children who can also double as slaves when it comes time to bring in the groceries or rake the lawn).
As to the end of Curiousity, we may never know who his partner was.
At least not yet.
Somtime later, they may meet in the street and Rude recognizes his smell or something. This has the added attraction of letting it stew in your brain longer and giving us a one-shot later on. win-win =D
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Date: 2008-11-02 04:23 am (UTC)I feel so bad for Rufus..
until I cheated and read the ending on ff.net, lol. *goes back and re-reads the previous chappies*no subject
Date: 2008-11-02 01:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-03 07:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-03 11:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-03 02:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-02 10:37 pm (UTC)And they're both convinced that the other is incapable of feeling... I think this is even more enjoyable reading through for the second time.
And yum for the smut :)
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Date: 2008-11-02 10:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-03 12:28 am (UTC)More please. Soon. Please? (See, now you made me beg!)
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Date: 2008-11-03 01:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-03 01:18 am (UTC)I can't seem to stop thinking about this story/pairing, and I've been wracking my brain to make all the bits coalesce and make a story...we'll see!
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Date: 2008-11-05 01:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-05 01:52 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-07 08:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-07 01:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-10 08:58 pm (UTC)Kerri: **sniffling** There's something between those two, something deep. But like all the Renos I've ever met, this one is also too stubborn to see it! I think I need to go cuddle with my men.
God, I hate it when my muses are smarter than I am. :( lol
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Date: 2008-11-11 08:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-12 04:10 am (UTC)Here's the original artwork (http://kamizuki.deviantart.com/art/commissioned-fanart-7-8-2007-61636885) on her DA account.
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Date: 2008-11-12 11:54 am (UTC)