Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Shattered Boundaries ❯ IV: A Silent Submission ( Chapter 4 )

Shattered Boundaries: A Silent Submission

 

Reno sighed as he tugged on his shirt collar, undoing the top button so that he could breathe. Tseng would probably glare and threaten to dock his pay, but he didn't care. The only reason he was at this big executive party was because the Turks were on security detail, which meant he didn't have to impress anyone. Only protect their worthless yet wealthy asses… such a paradox.

 

Though if he wanted to be honest with himself, there was one more reason Reno had agreed to this boring task. Beside him, Rude was stoic as always, even wearing his sunglasses indoors.

 

He raked his eyes over the crowd on the dance floor, swaying to some overly expensive and perfectly bland orchestra, and he watched over the rim of his non-alcoholic punch as his prey came into view, leading a beautiful blonde woman around to the steps of the dance. Reeve looked immaculate in his well-tailored black suit and light blue tie.

 

He was flushed, both from dancing and the alcohol he had consumed, with a pink glow in his cheeks that was incredibly alluring. To Reno's eye, Reeve did not look like he was having a great time, however. In fact, he looked strained and bored. Perhaps it was the situation or his company or even that he was worrying over something; the Turk couldn't be sure. Still, he continued to watch the man he desired, just waiting for an opportunity to strike.

 

“No matter how much of it you drink, it won't magically become alcohol.” Rude's low voice echoed beside him, bemused and entertained by his new partner's antics.

 

Reno scowled. “Shut up,” he countered, never taking his eyes off dark hair and amber irises. “Why don't you take off your glasses, yo?”

 

His partner grunted, Rude's typical response to anything Reno had to say. He wasn't sure if that should offend him, even if Tseng said it was normal. He was still working on the translation of said grunt when his eyes caught movement on the dance floor, immediately perking up his slouched attitude.

 

Reeve was gesturing his date towards a seat before saying something, his smile thin but gracious. Reno's lip reading skills helped him catch “air”, but that was about it. Rude was better at this particular skill than him, and he was not going to recruit the bald man's help. As the disgruntled blonde made her way to one of the many chairs scattered around the ballroom, the executive went the opposite direction making a beeline for the balcony door, which was nearly hidden by a few huge, leafy plants. As security guard, Reno knew that couldn't possibly be safe, and his lips curled into a smirk.

 

Draining the last of his punch, he shoved the empty glass towards his partner, who took it quizzically. “If Tseng calls, I'm heading off a wayward guest.” Blue-green eyes darted towards his boss, who was currently in conversation with both Veld and Sephiroth. He had the feeling Tseng would be busy for a long time, knowing the Wutaiian's admiration of both.

 

“Where are you going?” Rude asked, frowning slightly at the empty cup in his hand, as if unsure what to do with it.

 

Reno waved him off with a dismissing hand, already slipping into the crowd and attempting to adjust his suit. “Don' worry about it. I got the walkie, yo,” he called over his shoulder, not bothering to see if Rude agreed or not. It was a matter of principle. He didn't particularly care about getting a dressing down from Tseng; he was more concerned about missing a chance.

 

He threaded his way through the crowd, fluidly stepping around other dancers and those speaking in cultured tones as he kept an eye on Reeve without making it too obvious he was doing so. He vaguely noted Rufus, the President's son, sulking in one corner, which wasn't unusual. The kid usually sulked when he wasn't being allowed to take part in any of the “grown-up” discussions. President ShinRa just didn't want to admit he was a bit afraid of his son's ambition. Even at sixteen, the kid had objectives and plans.

 

He skirted around a table filled with businessmen, coming dangerously close to where Tseng was conversing with the other two men. But Reno kept his gaze carefully away from them, pretending he hadn't noticed their presence. Luckily for him, Sephiroth would probably keep his boss busy for some time. Tseng wasn't the only observant one.

The orchestra was just beginning another song, something slow and sultry when Reno finally made his way to the other side of the ballroom, standing just in front of the door to the balcony. He peered through the frosted glass, pleased to note that Reeve was alone before surreptitiously glancing around. No one was watching. With a sly smile, he turned the handle and slipped outside silent as a shadow.

 

He closed the door behind him, turning the latch lock with a quiet click so that they wouldn't be disturbed without notice, and he swept his gaze over the balcony. Reeve was on the far end, leaning against the railing and seemingly staring off into space. He didn't seem to notice that he was no longer alone. The executive had also loosened his tie and unbuttoned his suit jacket, the cool breeze pouring over the balcony probably spurring the action.

 

Reno took a moment to admire him, staring hungrily at shoulders that were slightly broader than his, even if Reeve was shorter. Dark hair brushed the top of Reeve's collar, and he could barely make out a flash of tanned skin, visible thanks to the orangish glow of the small outside lights. Smirking to himself, Reno decided to put his plan into action, even though it was really little more than a spontaneous improvisation.

 

He stepped out onto the balcony, boots making soft little clomps as he cleared his throat, announcing his presence. “These formal functions make me bored as hell, too.” There was a definite swagger to his step as he moved forward.

 

Reeve's body startled before he whirled around, clearly too lost in thought to realize he was no longer alone. His eyes widened briefly in surprise before contracting with wariness, eyeing Reno with thinly disguised suspicion.

 

“I wasn't bored,” he explained, though why he felt he needed to was not clear. “I simply needed some fresh air.”

 

The Turk waved a hand towards him. “With the way you were dancing, I can understand why, yo.” He gradually made his way closer, pleased to see that Reeve was neither running away nor attempting to attack him. So far so good. Perhaps it was merely curiosity that kept him in place.

 

Amber eyes narrowed slightly. “You were watching me?”

 

Reno nodded as he moved to stand beside the executive, keeping what he knew Reeve would think was a safe distance between them. He tilted his head back briefly, taking in the clear stars that he never got tired of watching.

 

“Much like you were watching me,” he countered lazily before tipping his head to the side, locking eyes on his prey. “I saw you in the training arena, yo.”

 

His eyes widened briefly before he managed to gain a hold of his emotions, and for one of the first times, Reno was witness to why Reeve was as successful as he was.

 

“I was there on business,” the executive replied. He wasn't quick enough to hide the subtle rake of his gaze over Reno, however, and inwardly, the Turk crowed.

 

Outwardly, he snorted. “Pfft. Why don't I believe you?” he questioned, taking a step closer and crowding in on Reeve's space, and his nostrils flared as he took in the scent of the other man's cologne, a light fragrance much like sandalwood. “That's just an excuse, yo,” he countered, leaning forward and placing his arms on either side of Reeve on the rail, trapping the executive between them. Reeve was only about three inches shorter than him, but from his position, it seemed so much more.

 

Reeve flushed even as his voice attempted to sound stern. “Look, I don't know what game you are play--"

 

“Game?” Reno interrupted, pleased to find the subtle contracting of Reeve's pupils that signaled his interest, even if he was trying to hide it. “Who said anything about a game? I'm serious, yo. I want you.”

 

The executive brought his hands up, probably to push Reno away as he protested. “I don't like men,” he argued, wanting to back away, but the rail assured there was nowhere for him to go. “I'm strai-- Mmph!”

 

Any words he had tried to say were cut off when Reno closed the short distance between them, dipping his head and sealing his lips over Reeve's. He pressed their bodies together and used Reeve's slight oomph of surprise to slide his tongue inside the executive's mouth, swiping across the other man's tongue and immediately tasting his unique flavor. Reeve struggled for all of a second before he seemed to give in, tentatively returning the kiss.

 

A man's lips should not have been that soft; something Reno briefly noticed as he worked his mouth against Reeve's, deepening the kiss that had his blood singing with heat and fire. He shifted forward, bringing their bodies together, and with a simple rocking of his hips, the evidence of Reeve's enjoyment brushed against his own. The flavor of whatever alcohol the executive had been drinking, probably rum judging by the taste, washed over Reno's tongue, and he greedily swiped inside Reeve's mouth, searching for more of the intoxicating tang.

 

Hands pressed against Reno's chest, but instead of pushing him away as he half-expected Reeve to do, the fingers curled in his shirt to drag him closer. He complied, rocking his hips forward and grinding their two wakening arousals together. A small sound, much like a groan, rose from Reeve's throat, and it was the sexiest noise in the world, only serving to fuel Reno's passion. He moaned into the kiss, wanting and needing so much more. He never thought it would have been like this.

Their mouths meshed and clashed, and Reeve was giving as good as he got now, his kisses just as fervent, tongue just as dominating. Reno rolled his hips, a purr echoing in his own throat when a flash of fire spread down his spine and settled heavily in his belly, making his cock throb with arousal. He never imagined that Reeve would taste so sweet, that he would simply need after just a single kiss.

 

Reno's hand dropped down from the railing of its own accord and started groping with a mind of its own, palming the ass he had been admiring through the expensive slacks. He groaned, imagining what it would feel like to be with this man, and every thought only served to send more surges through his blood. He nipped and licked and sucked, his tongue dueling with Reeve's until the need for air had him separating, eying the older man. He was completely unable to hide his triumph.

 

Reeve was panting slightly, eyes dilated with lust as an aroused flush took over his face. Reno was no better, mind spinning with erotic thoughts as his normally pale skin tinged scarlet. He grinned as he shamelessly groped the stunned executive.

 

“If you're so straight, then why are you hard right now?” he questioned, voice little more than a sultry whisper as he rocked his hips forward.

 

The executive chewed his lip but managed to steadily hold Reno's gaze, unclenching his finger's from the Turk's shirt. “It is a natural response to any stimulation,” he responded, clearly pulling the explanation from his ass. “It could happen to anyone. It meant nothing.”

”Bullshit,” Reno growled before leaning forward, capturing Reeve's lips for another brutal kiss. Teeth clashed, tongues tangled, and he buried his free hand in the executive's dark hair, tilting his head back to deepen their kiss. Reeve made muffled sounds of protest, but just like before, he acquiesced at Reno's insistence.

 

The kiss was hard and demanding, almost possessive, and the cold railing dug into Reeve's back as the Turk pressed their bodies together. Yet, he couldn't seem to remember why he was supposed to care. He never imagined that kissing Reno, a man, would taste so good or send his blood boiling. It was not something he expected to ever enjoy, but he figured, he might as well blame it on the alcohol. He had certainly consumed enough to try and block out Cameron's voice.

 

He returned Reno's kiss only because it was difficult not to. All reason left his mind the moment their lips were pressed together, and all Reeve knew was that he wanted with a voracity that surprised him. Not that he was normally a timid man, but he never expected to feel desire that was nearly all-consuming.

 

He greedily sucked on Reno's tongue, the flavor of that fruit punch washing over him, blending with the taste of rum already in his mouth. He was blinded by the pleasure, forgetting where he was and why, forgetting that it was a man he was kissing and it was on the balcony of the ShinRa ballroom… where anyone could see them. All he knew was the arousal throbbing in his veins, the pounding of his blood in his ears, and the desperate need to breathe but not want to end the kiss either.

 

That strange obsession seemed to run far deeper, and Reeve wasn't sure what to do about it. He was confused, and everything that Reno did only served to baffle him further. Teetering from his world axis, he desperately tried to cling to the familiar, but Reno kept shoving it away.

 

The Turk sloppily broke off their kiss with a nip to his bottom lip, grinning with his triumph yet again. He locked eyes with Reeve, aquamarine orbs darkened with his desire.

 

“Don't look me in the eye and tell me there isn't something there,” he urged, rocking their hips together again and forcing Reeve to clamp down on his cry of pleasure as it sent sharp sparks of desire and need through him. “Even if it is just lust to you.”

 

Panting, Reeve opened his mouth to say something, to refute the Turk or put forth some valid argument. Yet, he was cut off when the walkie-talkie at Reno's belt crackled with static, interrupting the moment. Reno's eyes narrowed for a moment, clearly considering ignoring it. He sighed heavily a second later, snatching the device from his belt. He didn't release Reeve, however, speaking directly into the receiver.

 

“Yeah, partner. I'm here.”

 

The walkie crackled and fizzed a moment before Rude's voice, which Reeve quickly recognized, came smoothly through the receiver. “Boss wants us to do a perimeter check.”

 

Reno groaned. “I'm busy. Get Maki and Ken to do it.”

 

More crackle before Rude returned. “No can do. Tseng's in a mood. Get your pale ass in here.”

 

With that, the walkie went dead, Rude clearly expecting his partner to obey before they received a pay cut. Reeve took the opportunity to push the redhead away, putting some distance between them as he managed to slide his way out from between the Turk and the railing.

 

Reno chuckled as he followed his almost skittish movements, shrugging as he deposited the walkie back onto his belt. “Gotta go. Duty calls, yo.”

 

His eyes narrowed as Reeve took a deep breath, struggling to gain a hold on his rampantly running libido, which seemed to forget how to distinguish between a man and a woman. The logical part of his brain must have taken a vacation with his sanity since his sex drive seemed incapable of rational thought.

 

“I don't know what you are thinking, but this didn't happen,” Reeve insisted. “Quit deluding yourself. This… it wouldn't work.”

 

The Turk snorted, unimpressed by Reeve's words. “I don't think I'm the one running away, yo.” He flipped a hand towards him in a vague attempt at goodbye as he sauntered towards the door. “I'm just gettin' started,” he called over his shoulder before throwing the lock on the door and disappearing back into the ballroom.

 

Reeve wanted to breathe a sigh of relief, but he couldn't. In many ways, the Turk was right. Despite his repeated insistence that he was straight, he could not deny that he was hard as hell right now, and that had to be the most possessive and heated kiss he had ever experienced in his life. Combined with the recent erotic dreams that wouldn't leave him alone, it presented Reeve a pretty convincing argument that all was not well in the land of his sexuality.

 

He scraped a hand over his face, groaning with irritation as he literally willed the erection in his slacks to go away. He didn't need this right now, not with Rufus riding his ass for those papers…

 

Erk! Bad example.

 

Reeve cursed himself thoroughly as he grimaced. What the hell was wrong with him?

 

Not to mention, Cameron was irritating him more and more lately, making him wonder why he even bothered to keep her around. And when he kissed her, instead of seeing blonde hair, he started seeing bright red. Then, he began to wonder if Reno's hair was silky soft like it looked… right before he started to imagine what it would like splayed over white sheets. The realization that he was perhaps lusting over that boy smacked him in the face with the force of a ton of bricks.

 

Or maybe it was just the stress, the lack of sleep, and the alcohol. Those caused delusions and hallucinations, right?

 

He vaguely remembered something in his psychology class about that. A guy didn't just suddenly become gay. It had to be external factors. He was just losing his mind. It was as simple as that.

 

“Reeve, darling, there you are!”

 

The voice snapped him out of his internal musings, and he opened eyes he hadn't even realized he had closed. He turned towards the doorway to find Cameron sauntering towards him, a sickeningly sweet smile on her face as she flopped a white-gloved hand at him in a vague parody of waving. He wondered why just looking at her gave him the urge to throw himself off the balcony before hastily pushing the idea aside.

 

He plastered a smile on his face. “I told you I was here,” he responded, offering an arm to her. She threaded her gloved hands through his, beaming up at him with eyes that were a little too dark for his liking. They should have been brighter, bluer…

 

Ack! Treacherous thoughts!

 

“Yes, you did, but you took so long in returning that I was worried.” She pouted, sticking out her bottom lip in a motion that someone had misinformed her as being cute and alluring. “Besides, it is pretty out here, isn't it? With all the stars?”

 

Suddenly, he didn't want to be on the balcony any longer. Just lingering near the railing brought back all sorts of images that Reeve didn't need at the moment. He gently steered Cameron back towards the ballroom, instantly feeling the need for a bit more rum and maybe even some of that fruit punch. For some reason, he unexpectedly had a craving for it.

 

“The temperature has dropped,” he explained when she shot him a questioning look. “We should go inside.”

 

She beamed, snuggling up next to him, and her overly volumized hair teased at the bottom of his chin, tickling him. The sudden thought that she was much too short for him entered his mind before he could chase it away.

 

“Will we dance again?” she asked as he frantically tried to push down thoughts of taller redheads and lingering kisses that really did taste like strawberry now that he thought about it.

 

“Whatever you want,” he assured her.

 

Cameron smiled, but it didn't make his stomach leap like it used to. Her eyes weren't enough anymore, and neither was her presence. He tried not to notice this too deeply as he entered the ballroom, urging her to precede him. After all, he had a perfectly good explanation. Stress, insomnia, and alcohol confused his libido; it was as simple as that.

 

Unfortunately, he couldn't shake the aggravating feeling that he was only lying to himself.

 

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