Dog Will Hunt (6)

[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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6

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            For the first time in his memory, Rufus was running late.

            It wasn’t exactly his fault, he reasoned. His encounter with Reno yesterday had been so shocking and outlandish that it had tortured him the rest of the day clear into his sleep. Or lack thereof. He’d tossed and turned all night long, aware of Elena patiently playing solitaire in the foyer and wishing she weren’t there at all.

            He’d done everything he could think of, including drinking warm milk and jerking off countless times, but nothing calmed him. Hell, he’d even woken up once from his restless sleep with a raging hard-on, and his morning erection had been unusually insistent.

            Damn that man, anyway!

            Stuffing his paper into his briefcase and chugging his coffee, Rufus stalked to the elevators with Elena drooping at his side. She had the good grace to look like a night without sleep actually bothered her. When they reached the car, she gladly went her own way, happy to leave him with her relief.

            He flopped into the car, Rude at the wheel, and stared unseeingly out of the window.

            “Late, Sir.”

            “Yes, Rude, I know, thank you,” he murmured. “I will do my best not to disappoint my employees with future fuck-ups of this kind.”

            “Reno, Sir.”

            Oh.

            “He isn’t at work?” Rufus asked, though the man had just told him.

            Rude grunted an affirmative.

            “Oh, for Christ’s, sake, just go by his place and we’ll bring him,” Rufus sighed, irritated at his thoughtless, lazy Turk.

            Rude altered their course to Reno’s apartment and pulled up.

            “Go get him—wait, never mind. I’ll go get him, maybe it will make him think twice about being late next time if he thinks his boss might show up,” Rufus snapped. “What apartment is he?”

            “211 B,” Rude told him, both hands on the wheel, eyes on the road ahead.

            Rufus sighed and got out of the car, fussing with his suit as he strode down the cracked sidewalk to the shabby apartment.

            He neared the door and slowed when he heard a shriek of feminine giggling from inside and Reno’s low, laughing voice admonishing, “Now, you little shit! Get dressed! We’re already late, yo.”

            More laughter. Rufus lolled to a stop at the door, aghast that he was eavesdropping but unable to prevent himself.

            “Christa, I’m not fucking playing with you,” Reno’s voice said, faintly muffled by distance and the thin, ridiculously token excuse for a door. There was a thump and more laughing, soft, feminine giggles mixing with Reno’s own chuckles. “I ain’t got time to fuck with you, baby—”

            Having heard enough, Rufus hit the doorbell and heard it chime with tired, rusty discord inside.

            “The fuck? Now, Christa, go get dressed!”

            Rufus heard the soft pad of Reno’s feet, the patter of smaller feet running. There was another trill of delighted laughter followed by Reno’s soft grunt before the man said, “Jesus Christ, no more pancakes for you, yo! You weigh a fucking ton!”

            The door swung open.

            Rufus saw too many things at once to properly make sense of them all.

            Reno stood in the wide-open doorway partially dressed, as if he’d started to get ready and then been distracted by something else. It was pretty obvious what that ‘something else’ was—a thin woman was latched onto his back, still giggling.

            No, not a woman. It was a girl, probably barely over the age of consent. A young girl with big violet eyes and long, blond hair, her slender white arms locked around Reno’s neck and her small, bare legs around his hips as she rode his back. She was wearing an oversized tee shirt and clearly nothing else.

            “Who’s he?” she asked, panting, her cheeks flushed. She pressed a kiss to Reno’s cheek, clearly an affectionate gesture of habit.

            “Boss,” Reno said, either acknowledgment or answer. “Am I late or somethin’?”

            “Good morning, Reno,” Rufus coolly said, knowing full well that Reno knew he was late as he’d just admonished this Christa about it. “My my, even I wouldn’t have pegged you for a pedophile.”

            Reno gave a little shrug that jostled the girl and merely grinned.

            The girl’s lovely face split in a grin and she laughed, saying, “Oh, you’re Rufus,” clearly amused. She slid down off of Reno’s back and leaned against him for a moment, eyeing Rufus, idly tugging on the ring through Reno’s belly button.

            Reno slipped his arm around her back with the absent intimacy of long acquaintance, his slim hand resting on the curve of her slender waist.

            Finally, she gave his long ponytail a hard tug, saying, “I’ll go get dressed.”

            “Gosh, thanks,” Reno snorted, smirking at her and aiming a slap at her backside.

            She slapped his side instead and tore away in a dead sprint before he could retaliate, giggling again.

            It was then that Rufus realized Reno wasn’t wearing his shirt, and that the man was simply covered in tattoos. They started at mid-forearm on both arms, cavorting in a manic collision of color up and over his shoulders. They spilled down both of his lean sides from beneath his arms and down to his hips, disappearing into his pants to converge above his groin. Rufus could clearly see where they met in a vee above his loins, exposed by his unfastened, gaping pants, low enough that it was obvious Reno was either one extremely hairless individual or else kept himself studiously shaved. His wide, muscled chest was stark white, as was the ridged, washboard muscle of his lean belly, though his belly button sported a heavy silver hoop, as did both small, dark pink nipples.

            Flushing, Rufus snapped his gaze back up to find Reno smirking at him, patiently waiting for him to satisfy his curiosity.

            “You mind?” he lazily asked.

            Rufus hissed, “Just go get dressed!”

            “Come on in, boss,” Reno offered, and turned away to amble inside.

            His back was another map of twisting color, this one a picture that Rufus could actually make sense of. Up high on his shoulders were angels in mid flight, but what might have been beautiful turned frightening when Rufus noticed that the angels were being dragged down by the clawed, cruel hands of demonic creatures which cavorted near the base of Reno’s spine. Heaven being toppled by Hell, the damned writhing in tortures beneath those captured heavenly hosts, their faces twisted in what might be pain or even pleasure. Somehow, the steady sway of that long ponytail only added to the illusion of reality, a column of flame rising up to sever the helpless body of an angel whose wings bowed beneath the weight of those demons dragging at its robes and feet.

            Reno disappeared into the bedroom and slammed the door. A few seconds later that girl came bouncing out of the bathroom in oversized shorts laden with chains, heavy boots laced up her ankles, and a torn, belly-baring, and ripped white tee-shirt hanging from her bare, slender shoulders. She slapped a slouchy cap atop her light blond hair and poked her tongue out at Rufus before barging into Reno’s bedroom, saying, “I’m leaving, you grouch.”     

            She yelped and jerked back, laughingly trying to hold the door closed as Reno threw something at her. He wrenched it out of her grasp and palmed her face, shaking her gently and asking, “Grouch? Get your fat ass to work, yo.”

            The girl giggled deliriously and fended him off, saying, “I’m not fat, fucker!”

            “Shut your shit and go,” Reno ordered, emerging as she skittered down the hallway towards Rufus. On her way past she pressed two fingers to her lips and winked at Rufus, giggling when Reno snapped at her to not be such a slut, for Christ’s sake.

            Ah, the domestic bliss of the under-plate household. Touching.

            “Is she even legal?” Rufus inquired, watching the saucy young woman wriggle her bottom at them both and bounce out the door. She was a fetching creature, and would no doubt be a stunning woman. Apparently, Reno liked blondes.

            “Not for another year,” Reno sighed, and his eyes were assessing when they landed on Rufus. He buttoned his cuffs and negligently buttoned his shirt up just a bit, enough to hide all traces of those amazingly discordant tattoos. With a sudden grim, somehow tired grin, he added, “She’s a heartbreaker, yo.”

            “Don’t be lewd,” Rufus snapped, wondering if Reno could be anything but. “Get in the car, Rude is waiting.”

            As much as it disturbed him to notice, there was every sign that Reno shared his apartment with his young lover—makeup scattered on the end tables, purses and hats strewn near the door, several pairs of outlandish shoes flung beneath the coffee table, and magazines geared for young girls who liked tattoos, muscle cars, and delinquents stacked against the wall.

            Wrinkling his nose in disgust, Rufus headed back to the car, preferring to wait in the relatively civilized presence of his huge, silent Turk than spend another second in the squalor of that apartment Reno shared with a girl who looked like a high-schooler and talked like a streetwalker. But then, that was probably a combination that titillated his red-headed Turk, a whole world of dark deeds right there at his fingertips.

            Disturbed and uncomfortably jealous, Rufus kept his mouth shut. A few moments later Reno slid into the front seat and they headed off to work.

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