Tradition

Rating: R

Pairings: Rude/Reno, Reno/Rufus, Tseng/Rude (implied), Tseng/Elena. Any more combinations and it would have been stretching it.

Summary: PWP for pr0n without plot. Hell, there’s something going in the background, but you know this is all a cheap excuse to get them into bed with one another… whaddya mean out of character? Also: I suck so bad at writing smut. ‘ware the cussing.

--

There’s nothing like coming home to a good fuck after a long day’s work.

Or, actually, scratch ‘home’. You don’t need it when your partner works in the same office, no, not quite right… the world is your office, since you’re always out legging around the four continents being Shinra’s little dirty errands boy, but the good thing is that Rude is usually legging it around with you, ever since Tseng figured out that both of you worked well together.

But anyway-- wait why is this bottle empty as well? There aren’t many more where this came from…

Anyway. Anyway the office isn’t there any more. What Weapon hadn’t taken out Meteor had, and seventy floors is just so much slag now. Sunlight actually reaches the slums now that the plate is one huge wreck. Kick up a fuss about Shinra dropping the plate on Sector 7, huh? That was just your advanced warning from fate, buddies, to get your asses out, because the next thing you know the entire plate is coming down…

Aw shit, this one’s empty too. Rude, pass me another—

Except that Rude isn’t there. And that was the whole point, wasn’t it? Rude isn’t there in the evenings after a long day’s work any more. There isn’t a good fuck after a long day’s work. Not any more. You’re too busy chasing those stupid rumors that Tseng survived, between trying to make ends meet, because hell, you have more booze than food these days. This place was always a shithole, but now it’s a destroyed shithole, and all the gil in your pocket… all the gil in Rufus’ pocket… couldn’t buy you a meal.

But you’re Turks. You’re still Turks, even after Shinra and the Chief have bought it big time, cos a Turk is a Turk is a Turk. And Rude is one helluva Turk, if you get what I mean… But yeah. Turks don’t just succeed, they survive, because a dead Turk’s no good to anyone. And so while the store of canned food that you’ve hoarded like a dragon hoarding gold is starting to wear down, it’ll last you a while. Long enough to bust out of here and get someplace more civilized. The world is your office, after all.

Now where were the rest of those bottles…

Reno was getting trashed. Again.

Rude suppressed a sigh as he closed the door of their makeshift apartment behind him. There hadn’t been one night … or morning… when he’d come back to find Reno sober. Granted, with the number of ruined liquor stores they had raided since Meteor, there was enough alcohol to ensure that Reno stayed drunk until his liver finally gave out.

But he had to admit, as Reno slung himself drunkenly around his shoulders and pressed alcohol flavored lips to his, that there was a lot of point in staying drunk, and not much point in staying sober. Their last leads on Tseng had just vanished like so much mist in the midday sun, or, this being Midgar, like any gil left on the streets. And he, at least, was fine scraping by day to day as long as Reno was there, but Reno himself…

Tasted of whiskey and beer and cigarettes, and was warm and pliant and wearing that shit-faced grin that was just asking to be flung up against the nearest wall and well—

But Reno, Rude thought, after detaching himself from his partner with an effort…

They all missed the Chief, of course. Most of them – well, not Elena, of course, she was too new – but the rest of them, they’d babysitted him since he was a bratty little kid, kicked his ass around when he was a bratty teenager, and kicked ass for him when he was a bratty President.

He never did beat me at hand to hand, despite that vow, Rude thought wryly, as Reno wandered off to get another bottle, carousing enthusiastically about how Rude was home early for once, and they were going to have one helluva evening.

He missed the Chief, of course, who’d promised to take Shinra and turn it around, and damnit, might even have succeeded, if Weapon hadn’t blown him to kingdom come. But what he missed was a friend, a protégé, a boss, even.

He suspected that Reno missed rather more.

They were almost the same age, Reno and Rufus. So, of course, Reno had missed out on the babysitting part. So Rude could hardly blame him if he came onto the team in time to see Rufus as a radiant young teenager bursting with plans to make the world a better place…

…Just before Shinra turned him into the distant and feared Vice President that the world had come to know.

But back then, it had just been two brash young kids sizing each other up, snarking insults at each other, ostensibly testing out their fighting skills when they were actually trying to beat each other into a pulp, and then Rufus ramming Reno against the lockers afterwards, or Reno pounding Rufus into the mat after gym sessions in the Turks’ lounge.

…Oh, the look on Tseng’s face when he had walked in on that one.

And then Rufus’ mother had died – whether it was really an accident no one really knew, and suddenly the boy was Vice President, and Tseng had taken both of them aside with lectures about duties and accountability and weaknesses and liabilities.

And time went by, and Rufus was too busy trying to consolidate his power to make his position something more than a pretty, useless title. And when he finally managed to do that, Shinra senior had shipped him off into exile, supposedly on an extended business trips to outlying reactors. No one believed a word of it, of course.

But it did mean that Reno was stuck cooling his heels in Midgar, while Rufus jet-setted across the world to “Everywhere But Here”, as Reno so bitterly complained.

Time had brought Rufus back, eventually, but he returned not as the Rufus Shinra that had left, but as the President of Shinra Inc, and there hadn’t been time for anything, not with Avalanche and Sephiroth, and the Weapons. And then it had been too late.

And still he saw Reno staring off into the distance on occasion, or saw the slight frown nestled against his forehead even as he tossed in his sleep, could almost hear the wordless apology even when they screwed – you know, Rude, you rock and I wouldn’t trade you for the world, but ya know, ya know…

Boyish infatuation didn’t die easy. Not even when Reno’s too nimble fingers were ridding him of his belt and damn, but the boy was good with his mouth, considering how cold it was outside, and that was warm, and shit do it again—

“You think too much, Rude-o,” Reno said.

Rude rolled his eyes, just before Reno snatched his sunglasses and shoved him down onto the bed.

…pounding rhythm, each thrust almost in sync with his own racing heart rate and all that bloody warmth spilling through his body and damn that felt good, it’d been way too long, and damnit Rude your fingers are digging into my fucking shoulders…

…Shut up, Rude said, and slammed their lips together, and DAMNIT

Conscious thought flew out of the window for a long moment, along with a massive rush of air from his lung. And Rude was shivering and slowing to a halt above him, and both of them were just breathing, panting, breathing…

“Next time, I get to top,” Reno moaned, reaching up unconsciously to brush hair away from his partner’s eyes.

Only his fingers encountered skin instead of hair, and ran down a sweaty brow as mismatched eyes locked onto his.

Shit. Wrong number.

“Next time,” Rude agreed amicably, before flopping down beside him. “Whenever that is.”

*

“So you’re not a rumor after all.”

The man that Reno had been stalking spun abruptly, and Reno found a hand locked around his windpipe with just enough force to avoid crushing it completely.

“…fuck, boss, is that any way to say hi?” he grated out, hands flying up in a vain attempt to break the grip on his throat.

The grip gave as Tseng’s black eyes widened with shock. “Reno!”

“That’s my name, boss,” Reno grinned weakly, as he staggered back and landed on his ass on the concrete.

“Where is Rude?”

“Back home. Guarding the booze.” Reno massaged his throat, as his face split into a grin. “Damn, you have no idea how much booze we have—“

“And Elena?”

Reno shrugged. “No idea. Haven’t seen her since Meteor. Hey, aren’t you glad to see me?”

Tseng smiled minutely, which spoke volumes in a man who was rumored to be even colder than Rufus Shinra. “I thought you were all dead.”

“No way. We weren’t in office when it got nuked.”

“But Rufus was.”

The grin slipped from his face. “…yeah.”

Tseng extended a hand to help him to his feet. “I was tracking Elena. I hadn’t heard a word about the two of you. I’d rather thought that your luck had run out at last.”

“My luck? Run out? Hell no. The day that happens is the day I buy it.”

“Exactly.”

“Oh. Yeah, bad example. Anyway. How the hell did you survive?”

“Sephiroth has bad aim.”

“You gotta be kidding.”

*

“Tseng.”

“Rude.”

Neither of them smiled, Reno noted, but they came close enough to it. Old, old friends, the last two remaining from the good ol’ days. Lovers too, at some point, Rufus had mentioned quietly to him once… well, it was traditional for everyone in the Turks to be screwing everyone else. There just wasn’t anyone else you dared to let into your bed, and there was just so much stress in this damn job, living out here on the bleeding edge, and getting back alive in and of itself deserved some kind of celebration.

Although if Tseng and Elena were up to anything, they were keeping it mighty discreet.

“There’s not much to report, boss,” Rude was saying. “We’ve been keeping our heads low and looking out for our people since Meteor. Reeve is still alive, but by all accounts, everyone else was killed in the blast.”

“Except for Palmer, I hear. Who, despite being in Junon, somehow managed to meet with a nasty accident,” Tseng said.

Rude shrugged, his face a study in unreadability. “Accidents happen.”

“Good job. No news about Elena, then?”

“The only place we haven’t searched is Sector 2,” Reno said.

“Sector 2? We don’t have any emergency rendezvous positions there,” Tseng said with a small frown.

“Yeah. That’s why we kept it till last. But I suppose we should just check it. For completeness sake, yeah?”

Rude nodded in silent agreement.

“After all, it looks like we’re on a lucky streak! We found booze, we found boss, and third time pays for all, so Rookie’s sure to turn up somewhere soon.”

“Third time pays for all,” Tseng said thoughtfully.

*

There was a yellow ribbon tied to the post. Reno walked past it, back-tracked, and stared in shock.

“Hey boss, you see that?”

“I see it,” Tseng said thoughtfully, unwinding the ribbon. One end was perforated, and he examined it closely. “It’s hers. Rendezvous point C at Sector 4.” He glanced back. “I thought you said you’d searched that.”

Reno shrugged. “Well, musta missed her.”

“Really. I hope you aren’t this sloppy in the ordinary course of your work.”

“Of course not, boss. Well, what’re we waiting for?”

*

Okay, he took that back about Elena and Tseng being discreet. Rude had carefully averted his eyes as their newest member flung her arms around Tseng. Reno was wishing he’d done the same, but no, he’d been curious and now his eyes were burnt into that scene.

Elena. Hugging. Tseng.

No.

Make that: Elena snogging Tseng.

Something new everyday.

“So. Uh.” Reno said intelligently, after the two had come up for breath. Elena glanced his way and blushed slightly, while Tseng merely gave him a bland, sardonic stare.

“So, yeah! Third time pays for all, yaddayadda, can we get the hell out of the dump formerly known as Midgar now?”

Elena’s eyes widened, and she turned back to Tseng.

“Oh no, not again—“

“There’s something I have to show you,” she said, glancing sideways at Reno, before leaning in to whisper something into Tseng’s ear. At least, Reno hoped it was a whisper, and not an excuse to nibble his earlobe in plain sight…

Welcome to the Turks, he thought. Where it’s traditional for everyone to screw everyone else…

Elena led them through the dump with the assurance of someone who had been living there for way too long. It’d only been a few months since Meteor, Reno reflected with a tinge of bitterness, and it was felt like they’d been living like this forever. But Elena was alive, and Tseng was alive, against all hope, and damn, it was good to have all four of them together again, although they’d have to ask Tseng and Elena to get a room—

“—You and Rude make far more noise, senpai,” Elena said.

“Well, Rude’s kinda loud…”

“Rude’s not the one yelling ‘Harder. Harder, damn you!’” Tseng said.

“Aww. A man’s gotta give orders in a loud, clear voice around here. Isn’t that what they teach you in officer cadet school?”

Rude snorted.

“Shut up, all of you.”

So they traipsed through rubble, through garbage, through a bloody sewer at one point, which explained just why they hadn’t found Elena – this place was a maze and they’d probably foregone the search.

“Almost there,” Elena said, when Reno complained about the length of the journey.

“Why the hell you’d choose to set up camp here is completely beyond—“

Daylight broke over them as they emerged, suddenly, onto the surface.

“This way,” Elena said, and propelled Reno through a door before he could voice his protest.

He was mildly aware of shock. And hot on the heels of that, amazement. And that was quickly overtaken by anger.

And there was a paperwork. The world had ended, and yet there was bloody paperwork on his desk, as if the bastard attracted or gave birth to the stuff, and damned if Reno wasn’t going to fix that right now…

“Hello Reno,” Rufus said, as Reno swept the whole lot off the desk with one swipe.

“You bastard. You never even came looking for us! We thought you were dead—“

“Senpai, don’t—“

Elena’s warning came too late. Reno pulled his punch at the last moment, but his knuckles still connected with shoulder…

…and Rufus flung himself backwards, hissing in pain, his face a study in repressed agony as some black liquid began seeping through the white shirt that he wore.

“What the fuck, I didn’t hit that hard...” Reno vaulted across the desk to Rufus’ side, noticing too late the bandages barely visible under the open collar of the shirt, the black patches that marred the skin on the back of his hands… “What the fuck… Elena, what the fuck is this? Damage from Weapon?”

“Geostigma.” It was Tseng that answered, hovering anxiously at Rufus’ shoulder, as close to at a loss as Reno had ever seen him.

“Geo what?”

“A new disease that started spreading after Meteor’s fall. No one knows what causes it, only that it’s been affecting children and…”

And the weak and infirmed. Reno stared at Rufus in horror. “How… did you…”

“Survive?” Rufus asked. He glanced over at Tseng and Rude. “I was trained by Turks. Turks survive.”

“Shit, man. I’m sorry. I’m so—“

“Reno.” Rufus’ tone was grave, and Reno was suddenly reminded that, Company or no Company, he’d just socked the man who commanded the loyalty of some of the most dangerous people on Planet…

He swallowed. “Yeah, Chief?”

Rufus broke into a slight smile. “It’s good to see you too.”

*

He was happy. Reno couldn’t fucking believe it. Shinra Company was so much dust, the guy had injuries left, right and center from Weapon, he’d contacted Geostigma – that no amount of materia or medicine seemed to be able to cure – and Rufus was fucking happy.

And he was currently resting his head on Reno’s lap, stretched out on the sofa.

“I don’t understand,” Reno confessed.

Rufus didn’t laugh. That much remained unchanged – it seemed that the lighthearted laugh of the youth that Reno had once known was gone for good. But he did smirk, the corners of his lips twitching in amusement. “This is exactly what I wanted, wasn’t it? To take a flamethrower to that pit of vipers, and to blow the hell out of there.”

“I thought you wanted to rule the world.”

“Honestly speaking, that can still be done. Shinra Company can be rebuilt. We may have to switch away from mako, and find something better than coal, but I rather suspect it can be done. Hydroelectric energy, or tidal power in Junon, or…”

Reno tuned out by sheer force of habit as Rufus went into technicalities, feeling his heart sinking with every word that the ex-President uttered.

He’s dying. Tseng said as much. There’s no cure, there’ve been reports of the first fatalities and no one’s ever recovered, and he’s so bloody weak already—

His train of thought was rudely interrupted as Rufus grabbed his ponytail and gave it a sharp yank.

“Hey, cut that out—“

“I will rebuild Shinra Company,” Rufus said quietly, his voice edged with steely resolve. “And this time, I will do it right.”

Reno glanced down, to find startling blue eyes staring up at him, eyes that said: I know what you are thinking. I know your doubts. And I also know that nothing is impossible for me.

From someone who had cheated the death that had claimed the rest of the Shinra brass. From someone who, at age 15, had made himself the Vice President not only in name, but in deed. From someone who had forced a hostile father to realize his potential and to part with his power if only to stop the Company from collapsing entirely…

In that moment, lost in a sea of blue, Reno could just believe it.

And he could also believe that you are too damned hot when you look at me like that—

Now these sort of technicalities Reno understood all too well. He didn’t know who moved first, but their mouths met with a jarring clash of teeth – it had been far too long and they lacked the rhythm that he’d come to share with Rude – but damn, it was just like the good old days all over again, and their tongues disengaging long enough for them to move and Rufus’ teeth closing on his neck hard enough to leave a mark…

“Damn, that’s unfair,” Reno moaned. “Your neck is all bandaged.”

“Don’t you dare,” Rufus said, eyes glittering. “That little love tap that you gave me earlier was more than sufficient.”

“Yeah, you sure you’re up to this—“ Reno’s words were cut off as Rufus grabbed a hold of his pony tail and dragged him down again.

It had been far too long. But here, in some little hovel in the middle of Sector 4, where it was just the people whom he trusted with his life and hell, with his soul… here there were no politics, there was no talk of liabilities, of bad publicity, of any of that shit.

“Damn,” Reno muttered, as clothes went, and Rufus’ fingers wrapped themselves around him, his tongue tracing Reno’s newly acquired ear stud. “Now … I see … why you’re happy here…”

“Make the best out of a bad deal,” Rufus muttered, his breath cool against Reno’s ear lobe. And let Reno shove him down on the couch, their bodies moving in a rhythm long unused but evidently not forgotten. Frantic and urgent and desperate and more powerful than all the words in the world.

Just like in the good ol’ days.

*

“If third time pays for all, I suppose that means that the booze doesn’t count, because I didn’t get any. Either that or it means that Chief doesn’t count.”

“Hell, no. Elena, you’ll never make a real Turk if you don’t understand: the booze is way important. It means that Tseng doesn’t count.”

“…I heard that, Reno.”

“…Or maybe we could just count you and Elena as one thing together.”

“Gentlemen, will you shut up? Turks don’t need any sleep, but some of us do.”

“I’m not a gentleman! I’m not even male!”

“I swear, I’m firing all of you except Rude.”

“Aww, Chief…”

And Rude smiled. Because even if Reno couldn’t get his numbers to add up right, even if they’d left all the beer back at Sector 6 and it would probably all be stolen by the time they went back to retrieve it, even if Rufus needed Reno to carry him to bed…

…They were Turks. They would survive. And they would screw everyone else while they were at it.

It was traditional.