Two parter ficlet Title: Make Your Move Characters: Reno/Cloud. Rating: PG-13 Word Count: 390
The party is wild! What else could it be? The gang's all here, from both sides of the tracks. The silver-haired kids are history. The madman's (regrettably, on some level) had his hot ass kicked soundly once again and the drinks are pouring freely. Everybody's happy. Hell, even blondie's smiling. You'd think the world was coming to an end but that was earlier today and it didn't actually happen, so maybe it's okay.
Better than okay, actually. There can't possibly be any better time than this to make a move. Give him a taste of that knowing gaze, a toss of hair, that winning grin. Look at him, for once he's too happy, happy, to care about all those little things that bother nobody but him.
He's still dense, though. Natural blond, what can you do. Step it up a notch, of course. Buy him a drink, or send one over, since it doesn't seem anyone's actually paying tonight. Celebration and all. Slide over, get the stool next to his. Brush the back of his hand, his shoulder. Let your hands slide in places and then look unconcerned. Let him wonder if it was all by accident. There's lots of people clapping him all over the back, a few more won't hurt.
Oh, oh, he's turning around now, looking at you. Finally got his attention. Sweet! Time for a little knowing eyebrow work, an inviting pose. Keep it subtle now, but not too subtle. Remember, he is blond.
“Reno,” he says. Oh, gods, he's a pretty one, but with a voice like that, you'd know it's no girl you're fucking. Does he scream in bed, maybe? Or is he as quiet there as he is everywhere else? Hang on to your socks, you just might find out.
“Reno, enough.” He doesn't shout but it is just loud enough for you to hear over the happy din. The look in those eyes stops you. He knows exactly what the game is. He's blond, alright, but he's not that dense. Maybe his pubes are ginger. No finding out about that tonight. He turns and slips through the crowd, leaving through the side door.
Shrug, grin and bear it. What else can you do? Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Finish your drink and finish his too. You'll get him next time.
Title: Make His Move Characters: Cloud/Rude Rating: PG-13 Word Count: 494
Rude waits four minutes before he starts walking to the door. The crowd inside is too happy to notice one more mostly-silent person leaving. He shuts the door carefully behind him before taking a look down the alley. He has not heard the rumble of a motorcycle and sure enough, Cloud has not left. He stands at the entrance to the street, eyes up at the sky, breathing deep. The light hits him just right, making those wild spikes glow as gold as the sinking sun.
Rude does not go any closer. Cloud wants space and Rude is content to give it, but he isn't about to let Reno taint things just as they were finally getting along. Rude leans back against the wall near the door, mindful not to catch his suit jacket on anything. He waits.
The minutes stretch out and Cloud does not turn. Rude considers going first, perhaps an apology about Reno, a promise to direct the redhead towards greener pastures. The idea passes as quickly as it comes. Rude reaches for a cigarette.
“Those are bad for you,” Cloud says without turning. Rude looks up, the cigarette dangling unlit from his lips. “Those are bad for you,” Cloud says again and this time he does turn. He walks over to Rude and plucks the stick from the man's mouth. “Don't smoke near the kids. I've got enough problems with Cid as it is.”
There's the problem, Rude thinks, and doesn't bother to protest when Cloud tosses the cigarette in the trash. Cloud would probably be spending a lot of time with those kids. And Tifa. No smokes. Clean living. It's a life Reno just wouldn't fit.
Cloud pauses with one hand on the door handle. “I'm not offended or anything, just so you know.” Rude raises an eyebrow as Cloud continues. “Reno, you know, it doesn't bother me much. It's just that... he's not my type.”
Rude almost wants to ask the blond what his type is but then the weight is on him and those blond spikes are tickling his face and the lips are hungry on his. He could throw Cloud off, but it's not that unpleasant. Not unpleasant at all, actually. He reaches his arms up and around, holding Cloud close while he kisses back.
Seems Cloud's 'type' is 'bigger' than he is. And Strife kisses with his whole body, writhing, moving in that hot slow grind against Rude. Who would have guessed? He's hard muscle beneath that zip-up sweater and maybe hard cock too but the kiss ends before Rude can shift the right way to find out.
Cloud pulls away, looking aside, breathing a little heavily. He's a pale one and his lips have turned an interesting shade of pink. He comes to a decision before Rude can say a word. With a wry smile and a nod, he's headed back inside, leaving Rude against the alley wall, considering the next move.