Cracked Ribs & Cookies
Title: Cracked Ribs and Cookies
Fandom: Final Fantasy VII
Disclaimer: No ownership implied, no profit gained. This is a fanwork.
Summary: One injured Turk, one barely-social former Turk.
Notes: If I say this is exceptionally porn-tastic, you'll take my word on it, right? Enough that I'm mentioning it. I am red-faced at how this turned out. I'm also really fucking with character interpretation, so please be open-minded. Sprink and I were chattering about pairings on my birthday and decided Vincent/Reno would be the hottest thing since the sun and since I had a moment and was thinking about it, I was going to hour-fic the idea. But no! Five hours and 5,800+ words later, I get this! I adore you, Sprink, but whatever are you going to do with me?
Vincent opened the door, partially out of politeness and partially out of curiosity. He didn't exactly get many visitors. And since he didn't get too many visitors and since he chose to live in an area where there weren't many visitors to be had, anyway, he assumed that whoever was knocking on his door had good reason to be there. After all, he was fairly sure that ShinRa had disbanded the pre-pubescent feministic Chocobo Scouts and their cookie-selling ways some decades before.
It would have been fairly easy for Vincent to make a short-list of who likely was standing on the other side of the door, yet as he eased the creaking wood on its hinges, the figure on the other side of his threshold certainly wasn't one of the people he would have expected.
Vincent eyed flame-red hair with a little apprehension, tracing the body downward over rougher than usual clothing and muddy shoes.
"You walked here?" he asked, stepping aside and gesturing for his guest to enter.
"Bit of an accident with my bike," Reno replied, thankfully stooping to take off his footwear. "Just up the road a bit. But no point in going to get it until after the rain stops."
Vincent looked out the door one last time before closing it. It was raining. He hadn't noticed, but he also had been in the middle of a fairly engaging book, reason enough for just barely noticing the knock at the door.
"Are you hurt?" he asked next, thankfully not seeing any blood on his guest.
"No... Jumped off in time. But the road is washed out. Not the sort of thing to hit at a hundred clicks an hour," Reno said, also removing his wet jacket before holding it out to Vincent. "Mind if I stay here a bit?"
Vincent refrained from commenting that he really didn't seem to have too much of a choice in the matter. His seclusion could temporarily be shared. Taking Reno's jacket, he walked over to where a small fire was crackling on the hearth. A row of hooks housed some of his own outerwear and Reno's wrinkled jacket did not look so out of place hung here.
"Actually... kinda landed on my phone. Going to have a bruise there, I'm sure..." Reno said with a chuckle, pointing to a spot on the inside of his hip, just below his belt. "But kept the important stuff safe."
"Are you on a mission?" Vincent asked. The last thing he wanted was to have to lend anything to either Reno or Reeve.
"On my way back," Reno said, walking over to the fire and dropping to his knees. Vincent was amused to see that yes, Reno's hair was indeed flame red. "Don't worry... no blood, just intelligence. We're really not doing so much killing any more."
"I suppose I should feel better," Vincent replied, already aware of the next thing Reno was going to say.
"Dammit! Don't you dare pull high and mighty on me. I know about you!" Reno said, forgetting the fire and getting to his feet, attempting to be the same height as Vincent as he stalked over to stand just an inch away. "Decades back, you were me. You were good at what you did and you have more blood on your hands than I..."
Vincent turned and walked away, not wanting to hear any more of what was bound to turn into the sort of fight that Reno would not win. But Vincent was not expecting the hand on his shoulder, his left, and another hand reaching to grab his metal arm.
"I'm sorry I expected a little sympathy." The tone was dripping with sarcasm.
Fine, Vincent thought. Fine. For one more evening, he could be a fellow Turk.
And before Reno could launch any sort of defense, Vincent had twisted and knocked Reno to the floor, gasping for breath with eyes wide.
"Stop being a childish bastard, it's unbecoming," Vincent said, keeping his tone even. "Use my phone to call in to Reeve, and then I'll make a bed for you. You've probably cracked a rib or two, even if you aren't feeling it yet. You shouldn't be wheezing that badly just from being dropped."
Reno scowled but took the offered hand as he righted himself and brushed imaginary dust from his shirt. "I suppose you would have a decent medical knowledge."
Vincent narrowed his eyes and pointed. The night looked to be endless.
"The phone is in the kitchen. I suggest you go now unless you'd like a few more bruises for your collection."
Without adding a single word, Reno just nodded and headed in the direction Vincent pointed. At which moment Vincent went back to his chair and his book. There was no need to bother spying now that Reno was going to recognize him as a superior. Already beaten down once, Reno was not going to risk it again. Vincent knew the type. He'd worked with the type.
He couldn't help being drawn to stories with grotesquely happy endings. Yet it was not completely a character fault. Actually, it was an older book, one he'd read once before... He divided his life into three chapters, two of which started with the term 'before'. But the last time he'd read this book involved both of the befores in his life, which made it a very long time indeed. Not long enough that he'd forgotten the basics of the storyline, but long enough that the details were fuzzy, which made it even more delightful to read - knowing what would happen and therefore knowing he would enjoy it, but not knowing enough to know how everything managed to work itself out.
After a couple of sentences, Vincent could no longer hear Reno's animated voice coming softly from the kitchen, nor did he care what his long distance charges would be if Reno hadn't thought to bother reversing them. But he did hear, two pages later, Reno come shuffling out of the kitchen, a pained expression cut across his face.
"Okay, old man, you're right. A little less adrenaline and a little gabbing and I feel like shit," he said, eyes wandering to a battered sofa.
"Rest then," Vincent replied, marking his page carefully and wondering just what he had as far as guest linens. Admittedly his guest room was a dusty sight, not ever getting used and therefore not even made up. A bare mattress greeted Vincent as he opened that door before walking back to his own room to dig for linens.
He wasn't sure where people kept their spare linens. In his apartment, he'd just kept them in the coat closet beside the door because closet space was at a premium. His mother had kept them in the bathroom in a grand chest of drawers. Tifa, he knew, kept hers in a closet off of a hallway.
He'd forgotten where he had decided to keep his. Usually he just stripped his own bed and washed everything that day before replacing it for the night. But if nothing else, the house had come with things, furnishings, linens, more towels than any human needed for any reason.
Ah, there they were, in the drawer reserved for pairs of boxers without holes in them. Showed about how much he went out these days, as that was when he reserved them for - his mother had always lectured him about wearing clean, hole-free underwear just in case someone decided to run him over -- the emergency room personnel would apparently laugh less.
The bed itself did not take much time to make, but in the time it had taken to find the linens, Vincent's fairly-unwanted guest had taken it upon himself to fall asleep. Sighing, Vincent reached down to pull Reno's motorcycle goggles away, laying them on the chair, beside his book.
"Wake up," Vincent said softly, lightly touching Reno's shoulder. He knew that likely Reno would strike at whoever touched him and was ready to either catch one of Reno's hands in his own metal or to jump back if the situation called for it.
Sure enough, Reno reacted violently and with much confusion, he found himself on his feet and staring into what Vincent knew to be unnerving red.
"The guest room is ready for you," Vincent said. "You do need the rest. I'm sure you've been awake for a couple of days."
"Nothing gets past you, huh?"
"Aren't you the one who said that I used to be you? Don't think I don't know."
Reno grumbled something that Vincent was rather glad to not be able to make out. But still, he didn't let go and instead pulled Reno down the hallway to the spare room.
"And since you remarked on my medical knowledge as well, I'd be more than happy to take a look at you," Vincent said.
Reno groaned, finally getting his wrist free of Vincent. "I thought you'd already diagnosed me."
Actually, for as much as Reno had bothered telling him, he had. But Vincent also remembered a time when he'd managed to hide a bullet hole for the better part of a day before finally passing out from blood loss. Besides, there was a little part of him that still wanted the younger Turk to show proper submission to a superior.
"No way," Reno replied, looking from the bed to the door blocked by Vincent and then finally to a window that had been painted shut some decades ago. It was still raining.
Vincent stepped forward, just enough to reach to lightly brush over the white fabric of Reno's shirt and find a couple of ribs. Reno hissed, stepping back. Now he was pinned against the bed.
"Strip and I'll see if I can find a healing materia," Vincent said flatly. "You won't even sleep otherwise - every time you move, you'll wake yourself up."
"I was just asleep, if you'd care to remember..."
"I'm adding in the broken ribs I'll give you if you don't listen to me," Vincent interrupted, forgetting that he really didn't need to try to look intimidating.
Reno reached for the buttons of his shirt and Vincent smirked. He would win the battle, and the war.
Materia, unlike bed linens, were never misplaced. And while he did think about grabbing said materia as some point between paragraphs of his book while Reno had been in the kitchen, it was a little hard to focus healing when he didn't know what exactly the problem was. He knew he couldn't completely heal Reno, but he could do enough that Reno could function and sleep relatively pain free.
Still, he wasn't quite expecting a very naked Reno to be sprawled on the bed, apparently not at all modest when it came to some things. Vincent had at least been expecting Reno to keep underwear on, but an afterthought suggested that perhaps Reno didn't have any underwear to keep on.
Vincent didn't much like those pesky afterthoughts, as they tended to make his mind wander as the little, usually quiet voices would decide to speak their pieces, as well.
The bruise Reno had mentioned was certainly forming, purple and angry just inches from... Vincent pulled his gaze away to where more bruises crisscrossed Reno's chest. There were scars, white and spidery, from bullets, a raised pink scar that had to be from a knife... Vincent could tell what would make any sort of scar and visually Reno was a treat, testing his skill with the subject.
"Like what you see?" Reno quipped, propping himself up to watch Vincent watching him.
"Obviously you don't know when to dodge," Vincent replied. "I think you could have missed getting that knife to the side."
"I was young," Reno said quickly. "Now... Now I could dodge it easily. Besides, these are like badges of honor to me."
Vincent sat on the edge of the bed, reaching with his right hand to press at Reno's chest. Reno howled in pain and swung at Vincent, but again that fist was caught in strong metal.
"That hurt," Reno said. "Can't you cast something first?"
"Don't hit your superiors," Vincent answered. "And I need to know what's broken first. You look like a train hit you."
Letting Reno have his arm back, Vincent went on with the examination, trying to inflict as little pain as possible. He wanted to run fingers through red hair to soothe Reno as though he were a child, telling him that this was absolutely necessary and wouldn't last too long. He remembered the feel of knives cutting his body without anything to dull the pain. But mostly he just focused, making careful note in his mind of what was injured and how to direct a spell to heal it.
Reno was still breathing hard when Vincent stood to get his materia, slipping it into his metal hand to let that serve as a catalyst for the spell. As atrocious as that limb was, it did have a couple of decent uses.
The look on Reno's face was enough to tell that the magic had done its job, jumpstarting the healing process and dulling most of the pain. But still, Reno would need to sleep - no spell in the world could take away days of fatigue.
"Thanks," Reno whispered, but Vincent wasn't so sure if it was for the spell or the thin blanket he found himself draping over Reno to hide such shameless nudity.
"Get some sleep," Vincent said. "I'll wake you in a few hours for dinner."
Nodding, Reno pulled the blanket up over his head in an attempt, Vincent thought, to make the entire day go away. It was an understandable sentiment. He wanted to do the exact same thing.
However, he sated himself with that book, getting through several more chapters before his stomach reminded him that dinner was not optional and he was cooking for two, one of whom really had no say in the matter.
Food, at least, was fairly high on Vincent's list of things to keep around the house. Meat was a simple commodity, generally found in the rolling forest he considered his backyard and vegetables were grown in a small greenhouse that had a wonderful southern exposure. Bread was bought weekly in the nearby town, and eggs came from the same.
Chocobo Scout cookies would have made a nice addition to the meal he was preparing in his mind, but it was likely he was one of the last people alive who even bothered to remember them. Still, perhaps somewhere deep down in the ShinRa archives, someone had written a fairly detailed account of the recipe used to create them, just so that perhaps ShinRa could find a way to use it for evil.
Vincent shook his head, chuckling to himself as he started to physically prepare the meal. After years of cooking for himself, making enough food for two was a bit of a challenge and he was rather sure he'd made enough for twice as many.
With dinner cooking, Vincent wandered back to his own room to look for a workable change of clothing for Reno. Surely living the last couple of days in the same suit would necessitate needing something else. Nothing tight, had to button up... His closet was far from vast and consisted mostly of the same sort of thing as he was wearing, dark-colored military pants and equally dark colored t-shirts, all of which had been borrowed from an abandoned military base. Really, they were borrowed - if someone ever requested them back, he'd be more than happy to comply. But so far no one had said so much as a word about it and hence Vincent had grown somewhat fond of his repetitious wardrobe.
When Vincent opened the door to the guest room, he was somewhat amused to see that Reno was sleeping comfortably on his side, blanket tossed off temptingly. Pausing, Vincent replayed that last thought, making sure that indeed he had let yet another inappropriate thought about the red-haired Turk dance through his mind.
Shrugging, Vincent decided that if the situation popped up somewhere down the line, he wouldn't say no. But since there was about as much chance of that happening as there was of getting the Chocobo Scout cookie recipe, Vincent banished all such thoughts, cookies included.
"Reno," he said, not laying a hand on Reno this time. "Dinner's ready. I brought you some clothing."
And then he tossed the clothing onto Reno's legs, letting him fight it out with the fatigues. And as Reno slowly stirred into consciousness, swatting at the offending material, Vincent left the room to check on their dinner. Halfway through the main room, he realized that he hadn't bothered to offer a pair of underwear.
Just as he was getting everything onto the table, Reno ambled through the door-less doorway and stared.
"You really cooked..."
"I didn't have the option of intimidating meals from everyone," Vincent replied. "So yes, I learned to cook."
"And it looks good..."
Vincent raised an eyebrow. "I think I liked you better with the sarcasm."
But the meal actually went fairly well, with Reno displaying far better manners than Vincent had expected. Reno also ate as though he'd been half-starved, something that shoved a sliver of guilt into Vincent. He should have offered something to Reno hours ago instead of sending him to bed hungry.
"You're staring at me," Reno said suddenly, and Vincent realized he indeed was, focusing eerie red eyes somewhere he hadn't wholly intended.
"Making sure you're okay," Vincent fibbed. "You in any pain?"
"Not much," Reno replied, apparently buying it. "It's still raining though, I looked. And dark now. I'm going to have to stay the night."
Vincent had already noticed much of that, and the thought of trying to haul a motorcycle out of a roadside ditch in the dark, in the rain that had already washed the road out... None of that was his idea of fun. He'd just assume keep the Turk until morning, especially since the Turk was now being appropriately respectful.
And then Vincent said something he definitely hadn't intended to say.
"You'll pay me back somehow."
Yes, an eye for an eye, a lie for a lie, and a favor for a favor. Perfect logic.
Nodding, Reno continued shoving food into this face. But he did help clean up the kitchen, something Vincent wasn't expecting at all. In fact, once past what seemed to be a security-snark, Reno was a fairly interesting person, capable of holding a conversation.
That was something Vincent already knew he had to keep secret, of course, just like he was fairly sure Reno wouldn't mention the cooking bit to anyone.
"Do you mind if I go clean up?" Reno asked suddenly. "I probably smell like shit."
Truthfully, Vincent hadn't noticed. But his sense of smell was one of few things not heightened by long-term Mako exposure and he could only assume he didn't smell so great either.
"Go ahead," Vincent said, fairly sure Reno had already figured out where the bathroom was. "But if anything hurts more after showering, let me know."
"You should have more faith in your craft," Reno replied. "I've been patched up by people with degrees who are less competent..."
"So have I." Vincent had intended to kill the conversation dead and he certainly succeeded. Reno took off for the bathroom a split second later, leaving Vincent to finish dishes and then curl back up with his book. With a little luck, he'd get his happy ending and the sense of accomplishment that went with it. Because even if the characters were fictional, their triumph was vicariously his triumph.
A chapter later and he could still hear the shower running. Either Reno was being a pain and wasting all the hot water or Reno was in pain and needed to be checked on.
Debating for just a few seconds longer, Vincent again marked his page and headed off to the bathroom where a hearty knock at the door yielded no response. Vincent wasn't entirely sure if it was possible to hear someone knocking at the door when one was in the shower, since no one had ever knocked at the bathroom door when he was in the shower. Contemplating it for a moment, somehow safe sounded better than sorry and Vincent opened the door.
Steam poured out of the bathroom, making Vincent feel instantly overcooked in his clothing. Certainly he would have to wait for the hot water tank to do its job before he could consider a shower of his own.
"Reno..." After all, there'd been enough nudity already. Vincent reached for the shower curtain and pulled it back. Hopefully Reno was conscious, hopefully...
There was something to be said for not living to regret certain things, for Vincent wouldn't have minded instantly dropping dead. Reno seemed just fine, save for slight obliviousness caused by being in the middle of fairly intense masturbation, something else the Turk had likely been deprived of for a few days.
Somewhere between when Vincent spoke his name and pulled back the shower curtain and instantly wanted to curl up and die, Reno looked up with both shock and confusion meeting on his face and turning to anger.
"Do you fucking mind, or did you come for the show?" he asked, letting his hands slip away from his arousal as he yet again attempted violence. And again Vincent caught him, awkwardly ending up with Reno on top of him, tripped up on the rim of the tub and sent sailing.
Yes, curling up and dying would be good, for now instead of just errantly walking in on an assassin masturbating, he now had an angry, aroused assassin laying on him. He really wished someone would have just told him to stay in bed for the day. He would have finished his book already, that's for sure.
"I knocked," Vincent said as best he could for having someone laying on him, "I was worried."
He also realized he was fairly wet and getting wetter now that the shower curtain was pulled back. Nothing in the bathroom could be ruined by a little water, thankfully, but that didn't solve any of his problems.
"Why are you taking such good care of me?" Reno asked, mouth just inches from Vincent's. "Why?"
"Misplaced loyalty," Vincent ventured, easing Reno off of him and sitting up, reaching to grab the shower curtain and shove it closed. "I believe your shower is waiting."
"Your shower now," Reno said coldly, grabbing a towel from the thankfully dry towel bar and stalking out of the bathroom. "I'm going to bed."
Already wet enough to have had a shower, Vincent raced through the water, cleaning quickly and efficiently and doing everything in his power to not think about how Reno had looked so fully aroused, the flush of his swollen erection still a contrast to adjacent bruises.
Which is why he found himself knocking at the guest room door wearing only his robe, a dark blue raggy thing which had also come with the house. Reno at least answered, and quickly.
"No free shows for you," Reno said. "You've already gotten two."
"Three," Vincent replied, pointing downward to emphasize the fact that Reno was indeed still naked.
"What if I'm charging this time?"
"I should be charging you."
Reno pulled him into the room, untying his robe at the same time he forced his tongue into Vincent's mouth beginning a kiss that wasn't so much a kiss as it was an oral assault. Vincent had always been amused at the show Reno made of that tongue, but really, the man ought to have it registered.
Hands touched his chest and he snapped back to his senses, pulling away and closing his robe, tying it with a knot.
"You don't want to do that," Vincent said, eyes down-turned. Reno may have scars, but they were nothing in comparison to the horrors that ran over his flesh. They were nothing to show to company.
"Didn't I just prove that I did?" Reno shot back, looking fairly offended. "You'd have left already if you didn't want to fuck me."
Vincent was not amused, if only because finally Reno had something resembling a point.
"And don't think that's my repayment, either. But you already know..."
Yes, Vincent knew that much, knew how ShinRa had done business in the past. For a moment Vincent did have a little more sympathy for Reno, knowing how often the pretty, talented ones were abused.
"So I'm just going to lay on the bed over there and you can make the choice," Reno continued. "Either way we're going to dig my bike out of the mud tomorrow and fix it and I'm going to leave, so don't worry about breaking my heart or anything."
Sure enough, Reno walked over and flopped onto the bed, staring up and out the window. Vincent turned to reach for the doorknob, but before he'd managed to turn it all the way, he reconsidered. Mainly those pesky afterthoughts that had decided not to be quiet and tell him he'd already admitted that should the opportunity arise, he should let other things arise as well.
Cursing his afterthoughts for their bad puns, Vincent let his hand drop from the doorknob and reached to untie his robe. If Reno was repulsed then he had no problems leaving. It would just be another bit of punishment added to his tab.
"This is absolutely not repayment for anything," Vincent said as his robe fell. Reno rolled over on the bed and let his eyes scan up Vincent's body, not pausing until they met glowing red.
"Absolutely not," Reno echoed, motioning for Vincent to join him on the bed. "You can turn the light off if you want to."
"We can both see in the dark," Vincent replied, crossing to crawl onto the bed and settle himself beside Reno. "I'm resigned to this."
"That no matter what I'll be watching you or that you've given in to my irresistible charm?" Reno asked, propping himself up on one arm and chuckling. "Or should I just kiss you again to see."
Metal pushed Reno back against the bed as Vincent fought to straddle Reno's body, mouth finding Reno's quickly. There were things he hadn't thought of in years and some of those included skills that would make Reno's damned tongue look like a drop in the bucket.
Cracked ribs be-damned, Reno wasn't complaining anyway as he kept their mouths together, tongues mashing in a dance of the lust-driven. Reno was already hard against him, probably not at all satisfied from before with the thought of this exact encounter set in his mind. Vincent reached his right hand between them to stroke it, spreading pre-come with his fingers as a sharp moan echoed inside his head.
"Ah, I'm..." Reno pulled away from the kiss, thrusting against Vincent's hand. "Please..."
Another lesson Reno really needed to learn - Turks don't beg, even when it came to other Turks. Squeezing the base of Reno's erection just enough to calm the red-haired man down a bit, Vincent shook his head.
"Don't beg, it's unbecoming."
Reno frowned as best he could for having Vincent dip down to lick along the lines of those bruises on his chest. Vincent knew the pleasure and pain would mix, strange enough to confuse the senses of any man. He knew torture of many sorts, this sort of sexual amusement included.
"Vin..." Moans overtook the rest of the name as Vincent worked lower, determined to prove that anything Reno could do, he had been doing since before Reno was born. That in itself was an amusing feeling, and the noises pouring from the increasingly-loud Reno were proof enough. Vincent likened it to riding a bicycle, save that he hadn't tried to ride a bicycle yet and likely wasn't going to any time soon.
Yes, his tongue could do things too... Vincent licked Reno's erection, loosing his grip as he began to suck on it, not doing anything fluid enough to get Reno to come, just enough to keep Reno at a state of heightened arousal. Either he was going to get praised or hurt for it, he wasn't sure.
Metal hand tightly on Reno's hip to keep him from moving, Vincent knew he was going to leave yet another bruise and quite likely a couple scratches. Nothing deep enough for scars though, not unless Reno wanted them.
Reno was loud and getting louder, crying out strange and guttural things that definitely included Vincent's name and quite a few praises. Vincent finally decided enough was enough and settled into an actual rhythm, the sort of thing that would get him rewarded with a mouthful of semen.
At least Reno wasn't like one of his former partners... up an octave at climax and sounding very much like a woman. Probably part of the reason he'd only fallen for one woman and she was not the sort of thing he wanted to be thinking about when he had the erection of a fairly pretty man in his mouth, about to come and trying to open his eyes long enough to watch.
One thing Reno had learned, thankfully, was not to grab the hair of whoever was giving head. Vincent swallowed easily, that bicycle thing again, and licked his lips before gently licking the rest of Reno's arousal clean. Reno had him against the bed a moment later, kissing him and digging against his cheeks for his own seed. Not that Vincent minded kink at all - if only he'd known, he would have happily shared.
"Can I touch you?" Reno asked a bit breathlessly. "Sir."
"There's... lotion in my robe if you'd like it," Vincent said, pointing off the side of the bed. He wasn't entirely sure if either one of them was going to get fucked, but he liked it as an option. Reno replied by licking one of Vincent's nipples, following the scar that crossed it down his chest before nipping at Vincent's hip as he slid off the bed.
Still, the lotion was pressed into his metal hand when Reno climbed back onto the bed. All of this and now it was implied that Reno would indeed submit to his superior.
But obviously Reno wanted to explore a little more, Vincent realized as Reno's tongue trailed over his erection, sucking away the fluid that had gathered at the tip before trailing lower, over his scrotum and then farther down, darting that tongue against Vincent's opening. Vincent spread his legs, wondering if he should offer to roll over and show a different pattern of scars. But no, that was just a tease, enough to make Vincent as aroused as he could ever remember being.
"Hands and knees," Vincent ordered, knowing that it might bother Reno's ribs but hoping not to be in that position for terribly long. His mind was threatening not to work, but in small bursts of coherency he was sure that would be the best position to quickly stretch and prepare Reno for what was to follow.
Reno complied without a word, making Vincent really wonder what the ShinRa had done to its own during those last years. Reno was aroused again, not at all modest as he presented himself for Vincent. Still, the ball was completely in Vincent's court.
Fingers smeared with lotion, Vincent pressed a pair into Reno, gauging what he could from the hiss and wiggle that accompanied his movement. Reno wasn't complaining, but his breathing was a bit more ragged than Vincent wanted. He worked quickly, trying not to get caught up in the feel of Reno's body, at the heat that gripped at his fingers.
"I don't want to hurt you," Vincent said, pulling back his fingers and working out what would be best for the rest of the encounter.
"Your ribs, your bruises," Vincent reminded Reno, laying a kiss on Reno's hip. "Ride me?"
Reno nodded, swinging to the side of the bed until Vincent was laying in the middle, reaching to pull Reno back to him.
"Reno..." Vincent was a little surprised at just how easily Reno slid on top and impaled himself, resting with Vincent fully inside him, the expression on his face unreadable.
"You move too," Reno said, falling half onto Vincent and starting to move, making their initial rhythm one of shallow, quick thrusts. Vincent again grabbed at Reno's hips, moving him, moving them both as he thrust up, getting deeper penetration but still nothing like that first moment with Reno so completely surrounding him.
Reno was just hot, moving like fire and trying to kiss Vincent, trailing a pattern of kisses on Vincent's shoulder before stopping to suck at the white-slashed skin there, using his teeth but not enough to cause pain.
And Vincent thrust up, not knowing if it had been five seconds or five minutes, only to know that he'd forgotten that anything could feel so good. He forced a position change, rolling Reno onto his back but staying somewhat upright himself, not at all on those bruised and cracked ribs. He was resting on his knees, Reno's lower body supported by strong metal as he found himself moving harder, deeper within Reno. Reno was crying out, voice still not going up a damned octave, grabbing to fist his own erection and coming seconds later, semen streaking across his stomach in the most wanton display Vincent could remember seeing.
He came, almost not expecting to but definitely wanting to, somehow having missed most of the warning signs before spilling himself into the hot depth of Reno's body, hoping that Reno wouldn't dare touch his own seed, not before it could be shared between their mouths. He realized he was shaking.
He wondered if he was supposed to sleep there too now. Sleeping with someone else was a thousand times more awkward than what they'd just done. Pulling back despite not wanting to, Vincent leaned down to lick Reno's seed from his stomach, pausing with the last mouthful to force it into the mouth of the panting red-head and getting his tongue sucked on as a reward.
It wasn't until the morning as the pair were hiking along the road on their way to free Reno's motorcycle from the mud that Vincent remembered that he hadn't had a chance to finish his book. He also hadn't figured out anything Reno could do as actual repayment, mainly because he didn't think he deserved anything.
And then something hit him. It hit him loud enough that he let a bemused little noise escape his mouth, actually, and that was enough to get Reno's attention.
"What?" Reno asked, wearing his suit again, jacket and all as they walked down the center of the road.
"I thought of something you could do to repay me."
Reno paused, missing a step before running to catch up. "Like what?"
"Well, you seem adept at intelligence missions... Have you ever heard of Chocobo Scout cookies?"
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