Dog Will Hunt (11)
Oct. 23rd, 2008 06:55 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jaded_grinThis 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!
1 10 12
11
Like some kind of hallucination, it was over.
Rufus slumped down on the bed and Reno slipped away like smoke. He went into Rufus’s bathroom, ran the taps for awhile cleaning up, and then came slinking back out zipping and buttoning his pants, not even looking at Rufus.
Rufus looked at him, though, he couldn’t help it. He watched that graceful and painted body stoop to grab up his shirt, his belly folding into those thin creases that only the extremely fit and thin can have. When he straightened to tug his shirt on, the bow of his back pushed that ring in his belly out, the light catching on it as well as the ones through his nipples. He tugged his hair free and let it fall down his back before casting around for his things, his boots whispering over the carpet.
He wished Reno wouldn’t go, but he had no means or reason to make him stay, and asking would only earn him some spiteful, mocking response. Rufus felt a little fragile, still struggling to come to terms with the fact that he, apparently, was just designed for sex with another man. It was frightening but also a vast relief that there wasn’t something wrong with him—his bored disinterest in sleeping with women had caused him no little alarm over the years, and he’d begun to wonder if he weren’t some kind of dispassionate iceberg, enjoying sex without really being able to fully appreciate it. Considering that his whole body was still trembling and too weak to move, he didn’t think it would be fair to call himself an iceberg, and so he lay there on his bed, discarded, paid in full.
Reno pocketed his cigarettes and headed out of the open door, his slim figure momentarily silhouetted by the blinding hallway light.
He didn’t even say goodbye. He didn’t wave or pop off one of his comments, he just…left…
Rufus roused himself to close and lock his bedroom door, flushing. He leaned on it for a moment, frightened by the depth of his anger. That vile and tactless man had treated him just like a goddamned john! He’d fucked him and left him without a backwards glance—indeed, he couldn’t seem to get away fast enough! Was he just so awful then? Was he truly such a chore? Rufus ShinRa did not appreciate being treated like a clinging, barely tolerated annoyance. He was a ShinRa! He was the ShinRa! And Reno somehow didn’t give two shits for that fact.
Rufus heaved a tired sigh and made his stiff, sore way to the bathroom to get cleaned up.
For awhile, he thought that might be the end of it. One transaction, payment made and goods delivered. When days melted into a week and change, Rufus had actually begun convincing himself that it was over and done with. He was hoping that it would fade around the edges eventually to be something more like a vivid fantasy. He stopped the rotating guard, he stopped interacting with his Turks at all except through Tseng. He couldn’t trust himself to be impartial where Reno was concerned, and Rude just worried him.
But then, one morning he came into work and there was an envelope on his desk. Only one of the Turks could break into his office without being caught, and of them all only Reno was the most proficient with his picks, so there was no mystery who it came from. It was a white envelope simply labeled, “Favor” in Reno’s blocky, left-handed script.
Inside was a fifteen year old hospital bill that had been sporadically paid over the years, not even enough to reduce the interest. The resulting cost was twice the original amount.
Rufus paid it.
Reno showed up at his penthouse that same night.
Unfortunately, it became something of a routine, though Rufus hated every transaction and Reno’s dispassionate and bored disdain never relaxed around him. He’d leave one or two bills on the desk, and that night or the next he would come over and fuck Rufus with an almost furious violence. Only once each time, no repeat performances, no affection—just his Turk who never took his shoes off, never did more than unzip his pants.
Rufus tried to pretend that it didn’t bother him, but it did. He didn’t mind paying those bills for Reno, he would bail out any of his Turks, it was simply good policy to keep them loyal and keep them blessedly free of the temptation to betray him. That Reno repaid him with such impersonal and reluctant sex merely burned his pride and made him increasingly paranoid about his scarring. Rufus was a man who had never doubted the strength of his own appeal, but his strength was based on power and Reno stripped that from him. Without it, he had only his appearance, and he wasn’t going to fool himself on that count—yes, his face was handsome, a masculine mirror of his patrician and admittedly beautiful mother’s, but Meteor-Fall had left him scarred and near death, left to forever bear the marks of that terrible night, of his terrible failure, on his very skin.
Each time Reno left a new envelope, Rufus would promise himself that it was the last time, but something in him didn’t want it to end until he’d forced that lazy, untouchable, and frustrating creature to acknowledge him! To look him in the eye and touch him like he’d no doubt touched thousands of women…
It was something Rufus was determined to have, but he knew with sick, despairing certainty that he never, ever would. The most he would ever have of Reno were these cold, quick fucks full of silence and resentment.
It left Rufus with a lot of time to think about what he was doing.
There was just so much about Reno that could never mesh with Rufus on so many levels…His lowly birth, his choice of lifestyles, his obvious deviancy, the fact that he lived with a woman who was, essentially, still a little girl—what could he have been thinking? It was at that point that his brain, finished sulking now that he was willing to listen to reason, gleefully reminded him that he hadn’t been thinking, and that was precisely his problem. He wouldn’t even admit to himself what his plans were regarding Reno, the man turned him into a goddamned teenaged girl, which Rufus reminded himself of constantly in an effort to disgust himself out of his fixation. This simply wasn’t sane, safe, or healthy on any level and he was mad to even consider the fleeting possibility of maybe Reno perhaps becoming something rather more permanent in his life. He’d known the score from the word go—Reno was a ladies’ man, a gambler, and an aberrant…fitting him into Rufus’s life was like trying to make Tseng a stand-up comedian. It wasn’t going to fucking happen, no matter how badly he wanted it or how much people would pay to see it.
“Hello?”
“Hey.”
Rufus froze, his cell held to his ear and his heart thudding. There had been no bills lately, no reason for Reno to even come to his office and turn that chair into some benign parody of a stripper’s pole.
“Need a favor, boss.”
Rufus closed his eyes and sighed. For the first time in months, he was too tired for this shit. Rebuilding ShinRa Company was difficult enough that fighting a losing battle wasn’t really enticing at the moment.
“Not tonight, Reno,” Rufus told him, and started to hang up the phone.
“No, seriously, boss,” Reno insisted. “I’m stuck someplace, need you to come get me.”
“What?” Rufus asked, brows drawn. Was he in some kind of trouble? He felt uncomfortably worried, and hoped that Reno wasn’t neck deep in something Rufus couldn’t extract him from.
“I’m in the pen, yo,” Reno said, and laughed a little. “They won’t let me out without some kind of ID.”
Oh.
Rufus sighed a little and asked, “Can’t you call Rude or Tseng—”
“Rufus, they’ll let me go with a warning if President ShinRa comes and asks all nice-like, you trackin’?” Reno drawled.
“Where is your ID at anyway?” Rufus snapped, uncomfortable that Reno was asking him to use his political power to pull a fast one on the locals. They were good people just trying to enforce the law, for God’s sake!
“Left it at Nina’s,” Reno lowly said, and Rufus actually fucking flinched at the mention of her name. He didn’t know who Nina was, he’d never seen her, but Reno always mentioned Nina’s, did it so consistently and off-handedly that Rufus could only surmise that she was some kind of close friend, probably another lover. “Just come get me, yo, will ya?”
“Christ,” Rufus breathed, rubbing his forehead. “Fine. Are you at the station?”
“Yeah,” Reno said.
“I’ll be there in ten,” Rufus told him. He dressed in his usual no-nonsense, Rufus ShinRa-on-the-job suit and had the car brought around, silently wondering why Reno was wandering around without any ID and why the local cops didn’t recognize him as a Turk. Even without the suit, Reno was kinda high on the visibility scale, and most everyone in Edge knew him, if not by name then by description and deeds. It didn’t occur to him, however, to wonder why they hadn’t just run his prints until he was already getting out at the station, and by then it was too late to worry about it. Still, he knew that there were any number of ways to get around this ID issue that did not require his presence. Reno must’ve done something really bad if he wanted Rufus to get him out of it.
Reno was slouched in a cell, bantering with the guard, who was young and too innocent looking to be a policeman…well, policewoman. Her sergeant was at the desk doing paperwork, and Rufus ignored Reno to go straight for help.
“Excuse me,” he started.
“Well, yes, Sir!” the man gasped, beaming to be personally visited by Rufus ShinRa himself. The public, as a whole, didn’t like ShinRa or anything that they had stood for, but one-on-one most people were still fawningly glad to see him and awed by his presence.
“Good evening,” he said, putting on his most charming smile. “It would seem that one of my Turks has been misbehaving…”
“Oh, I beg your pardon, Sir,” the man said, apologetic, his smile sincere. “He got picked up running a red light and then he didn’t have a license for his bike.” His voice fell into a conspiratal whisper and he leaned close to Rufus, saying, “We didn’t do a breathalyzer, Sir, but my beat-cop was certain he was drunk…” He straightened and beamed at Rufus again, still rather apologetic for just doing his job according to the laws which kept them all safe. “Without ID we can’t release him…However, with you vouching for his identity, we can go ahead and process him. I’ll just need you to sign some paperwork, Sir, taking responsibility for him, and he’ll have to send a copy of his ID to the courthouse within seven days…”
Rufus signed paperwork and only half-listened, nodding in the right places and smiling his best publicity smile. In short order, Reno was released to his “custody” and the two of them headed to the car.
Rufus didn’t look at him. He just couldn’t. Reno looked relaxed and delicious in his usual Turk suit that in no way hid his slender body, but that didn’t change anything. It was just a reminder to Rufus that their relationship was purely business, and Rufus was purely fed up with it. He could only assume that Reno hadn’t gone home after work, and the late hour meant that he’d been particularly busy.
He gave the driver instructions to take them to Reno’s home, but the man snapped at the driver to nix that and go to the penthouse.
“Reno,” Rufus tiredly said, amazed in some corner of his mind that the teenaged girl with rampaging hormones that he so often felt like had somehow grown up and pissed off, otherwise he’d be drooling all over his Turk by now. “You should go home.”
“I owe you,” Reno said, staring out the window. He didn’t sound happy about it, and Rufus was anything but enthused himself. Having sex with someone who didn’t enjoy it wasn’t exactly the stuff his dreams were made of. Not anymore, at least.
“Then pay me back,” Rufus softly told him. “You need to go home, you shouldn’t leave her alone all night long.”
“I don’t fucking discuss Christa,” Reno flatly told him, ending the conversation. Ending all conversation.
Rufus leaned his head against the window and sighed, privately rather proud of himself that he could be so near Reno and not already be aching for him. Maybe familiarity did breed contempt…or maybe he just wasn’t getting what he’d thought he’d wanted after all…
They arrived and Rufus went straight up to his home, ignoring Reno as much as he could, not even wasting the breath to snap at him when he lit a cigarette in the elevator. It just didn’t seem worth it to waste his breath on someone who refused to listen to him.
Reno lounged against the wall but his posture was tense, tightly coiled. Rufus wouldn’t put it past him to be aware that something was off—his uncanny Turk could do the impossible, sensing Rufus’s mood wasn’t so far out of the realm of possibility as that. He seemed restless and impatient, no doubt just wanting to get this over with and get out, as always. The thought annoyed him, and Rufus didn’t hide that fact as he made his way inside, Reno at his heels like a barely restrained and unpredictable dog.
1 10 12
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!
11
Like some kind of hallucination, it was over.
Rufus slumped down on the bed and Reno slipped away like smoke. He went into Rufus’s bathroom, ran the taps for awhile cleaning up, and then came slinking back out zipping and buttoning his pants, not even looking at Rufus.
Rufus looked at him, though, he couldn’t help it. He watched that graceful and painted body stoop to grab up his shirt, his belly folding into those thin creases that only the extremely fit and thin can have. When he straightened to tug his shirt on, the bow of his back pushed that ring in his belly out, the light catching on it as well as the ones through his nipples. He tugged his hair free and let it fall down his back before casting around for his things, his boots whispering over the carpet.
He wished Reno wouldn’t go, but he had no means or reason to make him stay, and asking would only earn him some spiteful, mocking response. Rufus felt a little fragile, still struggling to come to terms with the fact that he, apparently, was just designed for sex with another man. It was frightening but also a vast relief that there wasn’t something wrong with him—his bored disinterest in sleeping with women had caused him no little alarm over the years, and he’d begun to wonder if he weren’t some kind of dispassionate iceberg, enjoying sex without really being able to fully appreciate it. Considering that his whole body was still trembling and too weak to move, he didn’t think it would be fair to call himself an iceberg, and so he lay there on his bed, discarded, paid in full.
Reno pocketed his cigarettes and headed out of the open door, his slim figure momentarily silhouetted by the blinding hallway light.
He didn’t even say goodbye. He didn’t wave or pop off one of his comments, he just…left…
Rufus roused himself to close and lock his bedroom door, flushing. He leaned on it for a moment, frightened by the depth of his anger. That vile and tactless man had treated him just like a goddamned john! He’d fucked him and left him without a backwards glance—indeed, he couldn’t seem to get away fast enough! Was he just so awful then? Was he truly such a chore? Rufus ShinRa did not appreciate being treated like a clinging, barely tolerated annoyance. He was a ShinRa! He was the ShinRa! And Reno somehow didn’t give two shits for that fact.
Rufus heaved a tired sigh and made his stiff, sore way to the bathroom to get cleaned up.
For awhile, he thought that might be the end of it. One transaction, payment made and goods delivered. When days melted into a week and change, Rufus had actually begun convincing himself that it was over and done with. He was hoping that it would fade around the edges eventually to be something more like a vivid fantasy. He stopped the rotating guard, he stopped interacting with his Turks at all except through Tseng. He couldn’t trust himself to be impartial where Reno was concerned, and Rude just worried him.
But then, one morning he came into work and there was an envelope on his desk. Only one of the Turks could break into his office without being caught, and of them all only Reno was the most proficient with his picks, so there was no mystery who it came from. It was a white envelope simply labeled, “Favor” in Reno’s blocky, left-handed script.
Inside was a fifteen year old hospital bill that had been sporadically paid over the years, not even enough to reduce the interest. The resulting cost was twice the original amount.
Rufus paid it.
Reno showed up at his penthouse that same night.
Unfortunately, it became something of a routine, though Rufus hated every transaction and Reno’s dispassionate and bored disdain never relaxed around him. He’d leave one or two bills on the desk, and that night or the next he would come over and fuck Rufus with an almost furious violence. Only once each time, no repeat performances, no affection—just his Turk who never took his shoes off, never did more than unzip his pants.
Rufus tried to pretend that it didn’t bother him, but it did. He didn’t mind paying those bills for Reno, he would bail out any of his Turks, it was simply good policy to keep them loyal and keep them blessedly free of the temptation to betray him. That Reno repaid him with such impersonal and reluctant sex merely burned his pride and made him increasingly paranoid about his scarring. Rufus was a man who had never doubted the strength of his own appeal, but his strength was based on power and Reno stripped that from him. Without it, he had only his appearance, and he wasn’t going to fool himself on that count—yes, his face was handsome, a masculine mirror of his patrician and admittedly beautiful mother’s, but Meteor-Fall had left him scarred and near death, left to forever bear the marks of that terrible night, of his terrible failure, on his very skin.
Each time Reno left a new envelope, Rufus would promise himself that it was the last time, but something in him didn’t want it to end until he’d forced that lazy, untouchable, and frustrating creature to acknowledge him! To look him in the eye and touch him like he’d no doubt touched thousands of women…
It was something Rufus was determined to have, but he knew with sick, despairing certainty that he never, ever would. The most he would ever have of Reno were these cold, quick fucks full of silence and resentment.
It left Rufus with a lot of time to think about what he was doing.
There was just so much about Reno that could never mesh with Rufus on so many levels…His lowly birth, his choice of lifestyles, his obvious deviancy, the fact that he lived with a woman who was, essentially, still a little girl—what could he have been thinking? It was at that point that his brain, finished sulking now that he was willing to listen to reason, gleefully reminded him that he hadn’t been thinking, and that was precisely his problem. He wouldn’t even admit to himself what his plans were regarding Reno, the man turned him into a goddamned teenaged girl, which Rufus reminded himself of constantly in an effort to disgust himself out of his fixation. This simply wasn’t sane, safe, or healthy on any level and he was mad to even consider the fleeting possibility of maybe Reno perhaps becoming something rather more permanent in his life. He’d known the score from the word go—Reno was a ladies’ man, a gambler, and an aberrant…fitting him into Rufus’s life was like trying to make Tseng a stand-up comedian. It wasn’t going to fucking happen, no matter how badly he wanted it or how much people would pay to see it.
“Hello?”
“Hey.”
Rufus froze, his cell held to his ear and his heart thudding. There had been no bills lately, no reason for Reno to even come to his office and turn that chair into some benign parody of a stripper’s pole.
“Need a favor, boss.”
Rufus closed his eyes and sighed. For the first time in months, he was too tired for this shit. Rebuilding ShinRa Company was difficult enough that fighting a losing battle wasn’t really enticing at the moment.
“Not tonight, Reno,” Rufus told him, and started to hang up the phone.
“No, seriously, boss,” Reno insisted. “I’m stuck someplace, need you to come get me.”
“What?” Rufus asked, brows drawn. Was he in some kind of trouble? He felt uncomfortably worried, and hoped that Reno wasn’t neck deep in something Rufus couldn’t extract him from.
“I’m in the pen, yo,” Reno said, and laughed a little. “They won’t let me out without some kind of ID.”
Oh.
Rufus sighed a little and asked, “Can’t you call Rude or Tseng—”
“Rufus, they’ll let me go with a warning if President ShinRa comes and asks all nice-like, you trackin’?” Reno drawled.
“Where is your ID at anyway?” Rufus snapped, uncomfortable that Reno was asking him to use his political power to pull a fast one on the locals. They were good people just trying to enforce the law, for God’s sake!
“Left it at Nina’s,” Reno lowly said, and Rufus actually fucking flinched at the mention of her name. He didn’t know who Nina was, he’d never seen her, but Reno always mentioned Nina’s, did it so consistently and off-handedly that Rufus could only surmise that she was some kind of close friend, probably another lover. “Just come get me, yo, will ya?”
“Christ,” Rufus breathed, rubbing his forehead. “Fine. Are you at the station?”
“Yeah,” Reno said.
“I’ll be there in ten,” Rufus told him. He dressed in his usual no-nonsense, Rufus ShinRa-on-the-job suit and had the car brought around, silently wondering why Reno was wandering around without any ID and why the local cops didn’t recognize him as a Turk. Even without the suit, Reno was kinda high on the visibility scale, and most everyone in Edge knew him, if not by name then by description and deeds. It didn’t occur to him, however, to wonder why they hadn’t just run his prints until he was already getting out at the station, and by then it was too late to worry about it. Still, he knew that there were any number of ways to get around this ID issue that did not require his presence. Reno must’ve done something really bad if he wanted Rufus to get him out of it.
Reno was slouched in a cell, bantering with the guard, who was young and too innocent looking to be a policeman…well, policewoman. Her sergeant was at the desk doing paperwork, and Rufus ignored Reno to go straight for help.
“Excuse me,” he started.
“Well, yes, Sir!” the man gasped, beaming to be personally visited by Rufus ShinRa himself. The public, as a whole, didn’t like ShinRa or anything that they had stood for, but one-on-one most people were still fawningly glad to see him and awed by his presence.
“Good evening,” he said, putting on his most charming smile. “It would seem that one of my Turks has been misbehaving…”
“Oh, I beg your pardon, Sir,” the man said, apologetic, his smile sincere. “He got picked up running a red light and then he didn’t have a license for his bike.” His voice fell into a conspiratal whisper and he leaned close to Rufus, saying, “We didn’t do a breathalyzer, Sir, but my beat-cop was certain he was drunk…” He straightened and beamed at Rufus again, still rather apologetic for just doing his job according to the laws which kept them all safe. “Without ID we can’t release him…However, with you vouching for his identity, we can go ahead and process him. I’ll just need you to sign some paperwork, Sir, taking responsibility for him, and he’ll have to send a copy of his ID to the courthouse within seven days…”
Rufus signed paperwork and only half-listened, nodding in the right places and smiling his best publicity smile. In short order, Reno was released to his “custody” and the two of them headed to the car.
Rufus didn’t look at him. He just couldn’t. Reno looked relaxed and delicious in his usual Turk suit that in no way hid his slender body, but that didn’t change anything. It was just a reminder to Rufus that their relationship was purely business, and Rufus was purely fed up with it. He could only assume that Reno hadn’t gone home after work, and the late hour meant that he’d been particularly busy.
He gave the driver instructions to take them to Reno’s home, but the man snapped at the driver to nix that and go to the penthouse.
“Reno,” Rufus tiredly said, amazed in some corner of his mind that the teenaged girl with rampaging hormones that he so often felt like had somehow grown up and pissed off, otherwise he’d be drooling all over his Turk by now. “You should go home.”
“I owe you,” Reno said, staring out the window. He didn’t sound happy about it, and Rufus was anything but enthused himself. Having sex with someone who didn’t enjoy it wasn’t exactly the stuff his dreams were made of. Not anymore, at least.
“Then pay me back,” Rufus softly told him. “You need to go home, you shouldn’t leave her alone all night long.”
“I don’t fucking discuss Christa,” Reno flatly told him, ending the conversation. Ending all conversation.
Rufus leaned his head against the window and sighed, privately rather proud of himself that he could be so near Reno and not already be aching for him. Maybe familiarity did breed contempt…or maybe he just wasn’t getting what he’d thought he’d wanted after all…
They arrived and Rufus went straight up to his home, ignoring Reno as much as he could, not even wasting the breath to snap at him when he lit a cigarette in the elevator. It just didn’t seem worth it to waste his breath on someone who refused to listen to him.
Reno lounged against the wall but his posture was tense, tightly coiled. Rufus wouldn’t put it past him to be aware that something was off—his uncanny Turk could do the impossible, sensing Rufus’s mood wasn’t so far out of the realm of possibility as that. He seemed restless and impatient, no doubt just wanting to get this over with and get out, as always. The thought annoyed him, and Rufus didn’t hide that fact as he made his way inside, Reno at his heels like a barely restrained and unpredictable dog.
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no subject
Date: 2008-10-25 06:04 pm (UTC)Well done. Again!
no subject
Date: 2008-10-25 10:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-10-27 11:18 am (UTC)And the plot thickens... There's much more to Reno than meets the eye, right? Actual... *shiver* FEELINGS? Buried deep down and not for ignorants to see. C'mon Rufus...
Need more, pleeease.........
Damn, I can't begin to describe how much I love this. I've said it before and it probably won't be the last time either. You know, right?
no subject
Date: 2008-10-27 12:24 pm (UTC)