Reno shrugs. “Serious as I ever am. He's got a kicking bod, you can't deny it. Why're you asking?”
Rude is thankful, not for the first time, for his well-deserved reputation for silence. It gives him time to think. “Don't want you getting... mixed up in anything.”
“Mixed up in what?” Reno leans forward on the bar. “Cloud's tough but he ain't crazy. He's that loner brooding type.”
“Didn't really think you went for that.” It's true. Rude knows his partner like he knows the mole on his big toe and the tiny little scar on his right shoulder. Or he thought he did.
Reno swirls his drink. “Yeah, well, variety is the spice of life, and all that. So he's a little less... fun-loving than my usual type. He's still gorgeous. And I love a challenge!” He downs his shot and slams the glass on the bar.
“It's strictly about the challenge, then?” Rude has to know.
“That and the bragging rights.” Reno signals for another, studying his reflection in the polished wood. “Can you imagine that? Being able to say I got that sweet piece of soldier-boy on his knees, ass in the air? And those lips, fuck...” He picks up the new drink and swirls that one too. “You tell me those cherry lips weren't made for sucking. And I'd bet he's good at it too.”
Rude stays hunched over the bar, chin propped on his hands, his whiskey untouched. “You've had too much to drink, Reno.”
Reno shrugs in that disaffected way of his. “Yeah, maybe.” He swirls the glass some more, staring down into the dark depths. “I see where you're coming from though. Cloud don't look like he does casual and I'm as casual as a guy can get.” Rude can only grunt an affirmative. Reno shrugs again. “Hey, if by some odd twist of fate blondie really isn't into tapping the redheaded glory that is yours truly, so it goes. I'll get him, though. I'm ir-re-sistable!”
Rude sighs. Reno has definitely had too much to drink and that is no easy feat. Still, the admission mixed up in all of the blather is something. It's not exactly a go-ahead from the Turk Rude loves like a brother, but it's good enough.
Title: Hard Characters: Rude, Reno. Rating: PG-13 Word Count: 391
They're in a bar in Kalm now and Rude is anything but. They've got time, plenty of it. He's booked a room, a single. Not like they'd be needing two beds anyway. Reno gives him the eye. It's not the first time they've bunked separately but it's not usually Rude who spearheads that effort. Reno just figures Rude's in tune with his mood.
“Thanks, buddy, I've been wanting to play.” Reno winks and then slides out the back to show the innkeeper's daughter his rod. Rude sighs. The waiting is hard.
Four drinks later, each one slowly nursed, and there's no sign of Cloud. Rude checks his watch for the hundredth time. They hadn't set an hour. Maybe Rude just missed him. Or maybe he hasn't arrived yet. Maybe he's not showing up at all.
It's not likely, Rude tries to convince himself. Like Reno said, Cloud doesn't do casual, or at least doesn't look like he would. And he was the one offering. What, is he going to ride that big bike of his back to Midgar and have a good laugh at the Turk he stood up? Rude growls.
It's not likely. Cloud isn't that type. Rude knows it but it's hard not to be angry when he's been kept waiting for hours, hunched over the bar to hide the fact that he's flying at half mast. Or he was at the start of this. Now he's just tired. And disappointed. It's hard, admitting how much he had been looking forward to it, getting that pretty boy's 'ass in the air', as Reno put it. Accepting that it's not happening today isn't any easier.
It figures. Reno saunters back in, not looking one whit different. One of these days Rude will remember to ask him if he stays rumpled-looking just so nobody can tell when he's been sneaking off to play. Rude's not in the mood for that conversation now though.
Sun's gone low. He can see it in the window. He's got a room booked and a cold bed. Reno's answer would be to simply round up somebody else to fill it but Rude's too bitter now for that. He straightens and goes for a walk, imagining fight scenarios in his head. It calms him. There's got to be some way to give a SOLDIER a black eye.