Dog Will Hunt (4)

[jaded_grin]

This is my first ever Reno x Rufus fiction, so here it goes.

Warnings: 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!

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1            3            5

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4

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            He showed Monica to the door in the wee hours of the morning, his libido utterly spent. She left with the satisfied air of one who has accomplished great deeds…if she only knew what had really gone on in Rufus’s mind while he was pummeling her so mercilessly. Even he himself was a little dismayed by it, and that led him straight into irritation with his distracting subordinate.

            He returned to the living room to find Reno splayed out on the couch just as he’d suspected, a cigarette burning in one hand, his jacket tossed over one of the chairs and his shirt mostly undone. He didn’t even glance up at Rufus when he came into the sizeable room.

            “Did you?” Rufus asked.

            “Nah,” Reno said, tipping his head back against the back of the couch and sighing out a cloud of smoke. With that uncanny, almost preternaturally intuitive way he had of knowing Rufus’s thoughts, he answered, “Crazy bitch like that, you never know what they’re up to—I came in her ass instead, yo.”

            Rufus flinched, appalled. He would no more dream of doing such a thing than he would consider arriving at work completely nude. It simply wasn’t done.

            “A hole is a hole, yo.”

            “It would be a disservice to call you an animal,” he said.

            Reno smirked and said, “Thanks, boss.”

            “I meant to the animals, idiot!” Rufus snapped.

            Reno grinned, flipping through the channels to arrive at his usual fare.

            “And kindly stop ordering pornography while you’re here,” Rufus ordered. “I do not condone such immoral and outrageous filth.” Even to him the words sounded high-handed and snobbish, but he refused to take them back.

            “Whatever you say, boss,” Reno agreed, and hit the ‘send’ button. Seconds later, lewd images filled the screen, an orgy of decadent and vile behavior that Rufus found both disgusting and unnervingly compelling.

            “Don’t you even care?” Rufus asked, utterly frustrated.

            “Do you?”

            Rufus flushed and said, “Reno, a man in my position can’t afford to care.”

            Reno gave him a hard, amused, and somehow condescending look, asking, “Like I can?”

            Rufus considered him for a long moment, this man lounging on his couch more like some kind of lithe, predatory animal than a human being.

            “No,” he said. “I don’t think you can…Care, that is. I believe you’re as capable of forming emotional attachments as a sociopath is.”

            Reno gave him a pleased, wolfish grin. It was disturbing, sensual in its unthinking sexuality, terrifying in its casual cruelty. Despite his vigorous exertions in his tousled bed, Rufus felt his body tighten against his will. It bothered him how easily he reacted to Reno, and it scared him that he couldn’t fathom why.

            The woman on-screen moaned her appreciation of what looked to Rufus like a violent gang-rape.

            Reno’s glittering eyes were fixed on the spectacle with avid fascination, though he betrayed no signs of arousal—his breathing was deep and even, no trace of embarrassment, as if he were watching some benign children’s show instead of something crude and awful and debasing.

            “You’re impossible,” Rufus decided. “If you’re going to consume this filth, I’m going to bed.”

            “Sweet dreams, yo,” Reno absently told him, the entirety of his attention focused on the sadistic parody of love making that writhed and moaned its way across the television screen.

            Disgusted, Rufus went to his bedroom, slamming the door and stripping off his robe with angry hands. He crawled into his oversized bed, cold now and stinking of spent sex. It was irritating and vaguely repulsed him to the point that he finally got up, stripping his bed in the nude, making it up inexpertly with clean sheets.

            Rufus’s mind returned to his office again and again, agonizing over what might have been a missed opportunity, what might have been Reno’s own cautious probing into his interest. Had he fucked it up? Had there been some kind of invitation there that Rufus had stupidly ignored? He couldn’t be sure and now he would never know, but he promised himself that it the chance came again he would take it. The next time Reno popped off with some insolent, mocking offer, Rufus would call him on it and then they would see who was embarrassed. Yes they would!

            He was unfathomably angry, and lay awake for a long while, fuming, while the racket of cruel sex leaked through the door to eventually work itself into his feverish, disturbing dreams.

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            He woke from an aching, restless dream to feel someone touching his belly. For a moment, his dreams crossed over to his waking moments and his whole body responded to the illusion that it was Reno’s cool hand against his feverish flesh. A moan and a rapid blink later, the person resolved itself into Monica, kneeling next to him on the bed and smiling that little-girl smile.

            He sat up abruptly and snatched her hand away, utterly disconcerted, the shock killing his lust in an instant. Or maybe it was just the disappointment…

            “I came back just in time,” she cooed, giggling.

            “What are you doing here?” Rufus snapped, irritated to have his sanctuary so assaulted. No one came into his home without his spoken permission, and Monica was no longer welcome.

            “I forgot my purse,” she said, sounding hurt, but even that had a calculated quality to it, a manipulative plaintiveness. “Reno let me in. I thought I would come kiss you goodnight.”

            How long had she been here? What else had Reno let her do? Had she settled next to him on the couch and watched that offensive violation of human dignity? Worse, had she allowed him to touch her? Surely, when confronted with flesh the man would leave off that fantasy world and indulge his appetites…

            Furious, Rufus snatched her down against the mattress and roughly manhandled her, appalled at himself in some rational corner of his mind. Gentlemen did not handle women as if they were things, but he found himself shoving his hand up her skirt and pushing her thin panties aside to force his fingers inside her. Monica purred and gasped, arching, wet. Was it the remains of their own delirious sessions, or the leavings of his insufferable Turk? Lube that made her slick or that creature’s leftover cum? He wouldn’t put it past Reno to actually cum inside her this time, already prepared for Rufus’s angry, instinctive reaction to inspect her. Manipulation was something his lazy Turk excelled at, and he’d somehow folded Rufus into one of his games.

            “Get out,” Rufus snapped at her, shoving her from his bed.

            “Rufus!” she wailed, offended. “What on earth—”

            “Take your things and leave,” he coldly told her, angry and not willing to risk it. His imagination wouldn’t leave it alone, even lacking hard proof of her tryst. “Get out now.”

            She pulled herself together with a haughty, insulted gasp and strode angrily from the room.

            Rufus got up and put on his robe, following to make sure she left. He got to the living room as the front door slammed.

            Reno chuckled from his place in front of the television and lowly murmured, “Trouble in paradise, boss?”

            Rufus glared at him, searching the couch for some sign of abuse, for some indication that it had been put to ill-use.

            Reno slid those heavy-lidded, deceptively sleepy eyes in his direction and gave him a cruel smirk, saying, “Careful, yo—paranoia is a dangerous thing.”

            “I can hardly consider her safe in the presence of a monster,” Rufus snapped, unwilling to admit that Monica might not only welcome Reno’s attention, but actually beg for it in much the same way as that actress had, willfully offering her body for defilement, wanting to be used like a whore. It angered him because it touched too closely to the workings of his own dangerous dreams, and it tied him into a hard knot of jealousy.

            Reno just sat in that same position, no indication that he’d even moved to answer the door, no proof of any disarray in his wrinkled, half-undone clothing.

            “Get some sleep, yo,” he lazily said, having moved on to yet another disgusting bit of pornography. “You’re a fucking crabby cunt.”

            “I never thought I would have to institute this rule, Reno, but you will never ever indulge in sexual intercourse with any of my guests, do I make myself clear?” Rufus tightly asked.

            Once again, Reno’s languid blue eyes landed on him and his head cocked, his handsome face set into a thoughtful, intentionally innocent frown.

            “With any of your guests, huh?” he echoed, and Rufus flushed, realizing that he’d pointedly not included himself in the restriction. “Don’t crease me none, boss. I ain’t gotta come to your place to get high-class pussy. Your girls slip me numbers all the time, yo—anytime I want it.”

            “You son of a bitch,” Rufus said, absolutely floored that there was a whole subtext to his dates’ interactions with his bodyguard. For Christ’s sake, how long had Reno been fucking his girlfriends when he wasn’t? He didn’t doubt now that Reno was telling the truth, and knowing it was true made him bitterly angry and ridiculously offended. “How dare you?”

            Reno chuckled a little and took another long drag off of his cigarette before murmuring, “How dare I, indeed, yo. Sometimes a good girl’s just gotta lie down with dogs…”

            “You truly are a reprehensible individual, Reno,” Rufus snapped, aghast, angry but with no way to strike back. “I would be ashamed if I were you.”

            Reno gave this suggestion the same consideration he gave to anything—he ignored it and went back to watching the television, but he finally replied, “Flattery will get you nowhere, yo.”

            Rufus made a frustrated, furious sound but only stood there, impotent with rage, unable to so much as scratch the surface of his aggravating Turk. He couldn’t hurt nonexistent feelings, he couldn’t dock a mocked paycheck, he couldn’t threaten with ignored punishments—he felt his power over Reno slip to an all-time low, and that pissed him off as much as anything he’d learned this evening.

            “Cross my heart, yo, I won’t fuck a single chick you bring in this house while she’s here,” Reno told him, murmuring it absently, his mind on the television. “That make you happy, boss? You gonna cool it down now and rack out? You’re interrupting my movie, yo, I don’t wanna deal with your shit right now.”

            “Reno, I pay you very well to deal with my shit,” Rufus said, his teeth clenched. “And I am very nearly out of patience with you—”

            “Touchy bitch,” Reno called him, and turned up the volume. “I about got you figured out, yo…just almost there…”

            Shaken, Rufus decided a well-timed retreat was in order. He bit back his lecture, bottled up his anger, and hurried away even knowing that his tuck-tailed and hasty withdrawal would only help his outrageously aggravating Turk reach his realization that much faster.

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            When he woke the next morning he felt like he had a hangover, and wished to God that it had just been booze bothering him. He hadn’t slept well at all, and his whole body was sore from pummeling that vapid woman, Monica.

            He showered and changed and murmured a greeting to his housekeeper when she bustled into his suite.

            “Breakfast is ready, Mr. ShinRa, Sir,” she told him, giving him a huge smile. She didn’t so much as bat an eyelash when she started to clean up all of those spent condoms. She was a servant, she did what she was paid to do and was paid very well to do it.

            Rufus left his rooms to go to the kitchen, spying Reno still sprawled on the couch. He looked as if he hadn’t moved at all the entire night.

            Curious, Rufus paused and retraced his steps to the living room, coming to stand with hands on hips before that lazily relaxing man. He expected him to be asleep, but those half-lidded blue eyes were still on the television—cartoons, this time.

            “Did you sleep?” he asked, using his best condescending voice.

            “Nope,” Reno said, reluctantly standing and stretching, the bones of his long spine popping. Rufus backed up a step, slightly unnerved. It was easy to forget how tall Reno was, the way he always slouched. He was so slim he seemed smaller, but when he reminded Rufus of how big he actually was, the man always got a little nervous. Though by no means short, he was shorter than Reno, though more solidly built.

            Those blue eyes landed on him and Reno smirked, asking, “You flippin’ out or something’, yo? You look scared.”

            “Don’t be ridiculous,” Rufus snapped, flushing. “I’m going to have breakfast, you’re welcome to help yourself.”

            “Why, boss, I’m touched,” Reno mocked, dropping his long arms to his sides and cracking his neck. “Letting the dogs eat from the table, now, yo?”

            “You’re insufferable!” Rufus huffed, and stalked off for the kitchen.

            He heard Reno come slinking in behind him, moving like a rivulet of dark water.

            “Do you ever sleep?” he found himself asking, though he’d never noticed circles beneath the man’s vibrant blue eyes. Reno always appeared half-asleep, indolent, lazy. He looked like the only thing he truly lacked for was a damned ham-sandwich, thin as he was.

            “I can sleep when I’m dead, yo,” Reno told him, ignoring food for coffee.

            “Reno, don’t drink that!” Rufus ordered. “You’ve been up all night, you don’t want to waste your time off too awake to rest!”

            Reno arched a reddish-brown eyebrow at him and smirked, lifting the cup in a silent cheer, saying, “I got shit to do, yo…but thanks for caring.”

            “Imbecile,” Rufus said, directing his attention to his newspaper. “Don’t even think about calling in tomorrow. You have today off to recover from duty, so if you waste it doing god-alone knows what, don’t come crying to me.”

            “Like I would,” Reno snorted, and downed the coffee. “I told you, yo. I don’t sleep. Fucking waste of time.”

            “Sleeping?” Rufus haughtily inquired, giving him an exasperated look.

            “No, yo,” Reno murmured, and smirked again. “Talking to you.”

            Rufus glared at him, wondering how he could look so delicious in two-day old, stale clothing. But he did. Oh boy, he did. Even all rumpled from a long, sleepless night, Rufus could have gladly eaten him bit by bit.

            He shook the thought off, attributing it to morning horniness and a sleepless night. Without allowing himself to look back at that decadent display of finger-licking fantasy material, Rufus absently returned to his newspaper and said, “When Rude arrives to pick me up, Reno, go home.”

            There was no reply. As was his ornery wont, Reno was ignoring him.

            Personally, Rufus couldn’t have been more relieved.

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1            3            5

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Comments

[renos-emr.livejournal.com]

I enjoy how you write Rufus :)

[jaded-grin.livejournal.com]

Thank you, I've never written him before so this was a new one on me.