This is a rewrite. The first time I posted this, it was moderated. I can only assume it was because of a couple of instances of swearing. If it was you who clicked the big shiny report button, know this; I dislike you with great intensity. I miss the days when you could post a bit of effing and blinding on this site and nobody would bat an eyelid. For shame!
...I was planning on rewriting this anyway, so I suppose it doesn’t particularly matter. It just…irked me.
Reno was drunk.
You weren’t entirely surprised. You’d always had him pegged as a lover of hard liquor (and it seemed, judging by the gradually diminishing quantity of vodka in his bottle, you’d been correct in your assumption.) No, the real shock was coming across the Turk brooding over his drink in a sleazy bar in the middle of the slums.
“Spotted something you like?” your friend – and your only companion in the bar – asked you jokingly, prodding you in the ribs with an elbow.
You snorted in to your water – it was too early for you to start drinking, you’d decided – and continued to watch Reno’s back, still clad in his (slightly scruffy) black suit. He was leaning his elbows on the bar, head in his hands, tufts of unruly flame-red hair poking out from between his fingers. You hadn’t seen him move in almost ten minutes, and the rise and fall of his shoulders as he breathed was barely noticeable. He looked for all the world like an exquisitely crafted statue.
“See that red haired guy?” you asked your friend, gesturing vaguely towards Reno’s end of the bar. Before your friend could make some sort of risqué comment, you continued: “He’s a Turk.”
Your friend’s eyes widened. “Seriously?” she breathed, staring Reno almost as intently as you were. The pair of you must have looked like predators going in for the kill, you reflected with an inward chuckle.
“Yeah, I see him pass reception in the ShinRa building all the time,” you assured your friend. It was one of the perks of being a receptionist; you knew everything about everyone, even if they knew nothing about you.
“What’s he like?” your friend asked you when she’d managed to tear her eyes away from the back of Reno’s head.
You mulled over your answer for a long moment before lowering your voice and saying, “He’s a creepy, childish pervert.”
You friend sniggered disbelievingly. “No, seriously, what’s he like? Is he hot?”
“I’m not kidding,” you said with a sigh in Reno’s direction. “Last time I spoke to him, he just hit on me for ages.”
“Did you get a date out of it?”
“Nah,” you admitted. “He’s gorgeous, but I just think it’d be weird.”
“But you could go up to him right now and it would be just like a date,” your friend urged, glancing pointedly from you to the Turk and back again.
You raised an eyebrow and murmured, “I...guess,” your mind spinning slightly with the implications of having a drink with such a prominent figure in ShinRa’s hierarchy. And Reno, no less...
Your friend’s eyes lit up and you recognised her expression – she was planning some sort of evil scheme, and you were pretty sure what it was going to be. The mere thought of what was possibly about to happen made your stomach churn.
Sure enough, after a long moment she hopped off of her stool and hoisted you to your feet. “Come on,” she instructed, hauling you through the maze of tables until she reached the bar. “Buy him a glass of something.”
You stared slightly incredulously at her. “He’s basically my boss!” You thought about what you’d said for a second before revising it. “You know what, he’s higher up than my boss! He’s like my boss’s boss’s boss. That’s grossly inappropriate!”
She just laughed and ordered two beers, passing one two you and taking the other for herself. “Look, he’s super-hot,” she stated matter-of-factly, “and if you waste this opportunity then I’ll never let you live it down. Off you trot.”
You made your way over to Reno, sighing deeply as you went. This was strange and wrong; receptionists didn’t drink with high-ranking security staff. But, you found yourself reasoning, high ranking security staff didn’t hit on receptionists either. And Reno obviously didn’t feel the need to adhere to that unwritten social rule.
Maybe...this would be okay.
You slipped on to the stool next to Reno’s and banged your glass down on the bar, loudly enough to draw his attention to you. You’d expected him to be very, very drunk, so you were a little surprised when he gave you a calmly scrutinizing look.
“Do I know ya, babe?” he asked you dully, without a hint of a slur.
You couldn’t help but feel a little hurt that he hadn’t recognised you, especially since he’d made more passes at you than you could possibly count in the year since you’d joined ShinRa. Swallowing the indignant comment that threatened to leap out of your mouth, you shook your head. “I guess not,” you ground out, already regretting coming to talk to the Turk. “I’m a receptionist at ShinRa. I-”
“Whoah!” Reno butted in, recognition sparking in his eyes. “Sorry, babe, but you look different when you’re not wearing that little suit thingy.” You chuckled half-heartedly, which didn’t seem to be the reaction he’d been aiming for; he added, “You look hot, yo.”
Your cheeks flushed pink and you felt yourself smile at the compliment, ignoring the niggling thought that refused to dissipate – this was creepy. No matter how cute Reno was or how effective his flirting proved to be, he was still a Turk. A cold-blooded killer, and nothing more.
Your face must have fallen at the thought, because in an instant Reno was backtracking. “Sorry, yo,” he told you, sounding almost sincere – but only almost. “Didn’t know that was gonna freak ya out.”
You shook your head quickly. Too quickly? Perhaps. “No, it didn’t, not at all. It was...” You trailed off, not sure of the most socially acceptable way to finish that sentence.
“...incredibly attractive?” Reno suggested, a suggestive leer creeping on to his face.
You contemplated for another few seconds before smiling slightly and telling him, “I was going to go for ‘true.’”
Reno laughed heartily and took a swig of vodka, his face lighting up. “Damn right, yo,” he assured you. His leer had turned in to a genuine smile. You watched his expression out of the corner of your eye, reflecting – not for the first time – that he was an incredibly handsome man. Judging by the jealous stares coming in your direction from women throughout the bar, it was a thought that a lot of people had been having.
“So,” he began, setting his now-empty bottle down between you, “what brings you here, babe?”
“Hmm?” you said absent-mindedly. You hadn’t been paying attention to his words; you’d been too busy taking in the colour of his eyes. In the dim light, the bright turquoise almost seemed to glow.
Reno snickered, completely aware of the cause of your distraction. “I said,” he drawled lightly, leaning a little closer to you and catching your eye so that you couldn’t lose concentration, “I don’t get why a classy girl like you’s hangin’ around in a bar like this, yo.”
You shrugged one shoulder nonchalantly. “I was going to ask you the same thing.”
Reno’s eyes sparkled wickedly. “I’ll tell you if you tell me...babe,” he grinned, leaning even closer. You were sure that if the space between you grew even a centimetre smaller you’d be able to feel his breath on your lips.
You pulled back slightly, coming to your senses. You refused to be attracted to Reno – it went against your morals and your work ethic, and you wouldn’t be doing with it. You shook your head, so gently that no normal person would have noticed, but you saw Reno’s eyes narrow slightly when he spotted the barely perceptible movement.
“Alright then,” you told him in agreement to his deal, crossing your arms in an attempt to block out Reno’s advances. “That guy over there...” – you pointed to the bartender at the far end of the bar, a battle-worn young man with an eye patch and scars covering almost all of his exposed skin – “...is my godfather. And the guy who owns this place is my grandfather.”
Reno looked surprised, which you were secretly pleased by. You’d assumed that it was impossible to shock a Turk.
“Ya haven’t done too bad for yourself then, have ya, getting out of the slums?” he laughed, touching the diamond bracelet encircling your left wrist. It was your turn to be surprised this time; Reno must have been incredibly perceptive to have spotted the bracelet, especially when you were actively hiding it from the less fortunate customers who wouldn’t think twice about stealing an innocent woman’s jewellery.
“I guess not,” you agreed with a half-smile, tucking the bracelet under your sleeve and inadvertently brushing Reno’s fingers with your own in the process. You couldn’t help but freeze at the contact, which amused Reno to no end. Your face reddened at his laughter and he smiled apologetically through the chuckling, stroking your hand with his thumb before breaking the contact.
That one little touch left your head spinning and your thoughts in utter turmoil. You supposed you’d probably been hoping, in the very back of your mind, that Reno would somehow fall madly in love with you the moment you sat down – after all, you didn’t know a single woman who wouldn’t fall for the redhead in a heartbeat. However, you’d thought the notion so far-fetched that you’d hidden it behind your far more realistic worries about the sheer inappropriateness of the situation.
And now...now, Reno was watching you intently, a seductively cheeky grin on his lips and a knowing glint in his eye. He was perfectly aware of the effect he was having on you, and was obviously willing to do anything to amplify it.
“You okay there, babe?” he asked lightly, reaching out to brush your hand with his once again.
“Fine,” you assured him, pulling your hand back from his. You’d been ready for the contact this time, and you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of making you freeze up again. “Now,” you continued, suddenly all business, “your turn to tell me why you’re here.”
Reno grimaced and said, “I was kinda hoping you’d forget, yo.”
Your heart melted a little as the smile slipped from Reno’s face. “Sorry...” you murmured quickly. “You don’t have to talk about it.”
“I’d much rather have kept on making you uncomfortable, babe,” he said, a hint of his smirk creeping back. He lapsed in to silence for a long moment and just when you thought that he wasn’t going to say anything else, he told you, “It was a really rough day at work. I came here so nobody would recognise me, yo.”
“Oh. Umm...”
You caught Reno’s eyes again, and were struck by how lost me looked for an instant. But within seconds the sadness was gone, replaced by the cheeky glint you were already coming to love.
“It’s ‘kay though, yo,” he grinned at you. “The company of a sexy girl like yourself is enough to cheer any drunk guy up.”
You raised a questioning eyebrow. “You’re not drunk,” you deadpanned. You’d barely touched the beer you’d taken with you when you first sat next to Reno, but you felt far more inebriated than the redhead looked.
He sighed teasingly. “Guess not. What we gonna do about that then, eh babe?” he asked you with a wink.
You rolled your eyes but called over your godfather, asking him for something that was as strong as possible. He rolled his eyes at you but passed you over a glass of something green, telling you to have it on the house – ‘mates’ rates’, he called it. You slid the glass straight to Reno, who downed it without batting an eyelid.
“I hate absinthe,” he told you with a grimace, passing the empty glass back along the bar towards your godfather.
You shrugged one shoulder. “Then you should’ve said something,” you told him, taking a slow sip of your beer. “And you know what?” you added. “I really hate beer, too.”
The redhead snorted and tugged the glass out of your hand. “Mine now, yo,” he smirked, downing almost half of the drink in one go. That much alcohol in that short a time would have had you under the table, you realised with an inwards chuckle.
“I’m buying drinks for the guy with the world’s highest alcohol tolerance,” you said sarcastically. “What more could I possibly want.”
“Don’t make this in to a sob story, babe,” Reno warned light-heartedly, “cause we both know that really you’re buying drinks for the most charming, sexy man alive. Ain’t you lucky.”
You snorted and slapped Reno’s arm lightly. He caught your hand in his and intertwined his fingers in your own, squeezing softly. You gasped under your breath and he chuckled, leaning forwards and pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, sending sparks up and down your spine.
And then realisation dawned that this was Reno you were kissing, the second-in-command of the deadly Turks, and your goddamn boss. You broke the kiss, slightly reluctant to end the contact despite your reservations, and glanced at the clock.
“I...should be getting home,” you told Reno nervously trying to pull your hand from his grasp.
His grip tightened, just enough to hold you in place. “You scared of me, babe?” he asked mockingly, his leer nearly masking the hurt in his eyes. “And don’t lie to me, yo – I can tell.”
“I’m not scared,” you snapped, and then you took a deep breath, calming yourself before you continued: “I’m not scared of you; I’m scared of the consequences.”
Reno raised an eyebrow. “Consequences shmonsequences, babe. It’s just a little kiss!” As if to prove his point, he dipped in and pressed his lips to your own once again, this time stroking his calloused fingers along your jaw as well. It took a lot more self-control to break this kiss.
“I’m leaving,” you told the redhead firmly, and this time you managed to get halfway out of your seat before he reached for your waist, pulling you back down again.
“Stay,” he instructed, but despite the harsh nature of his order you could tell that if you wanted to leave he’d let you. One look at his eyes, however, had you glued to the seat; you couldn’t bear to leave when he looked so lonely.
With a sigh, you ordered two dry whiskies. Reno only chuckled at your choice and downed his in one.
You were surprised how easy it was to talk to Reno. He was nothing like you’d expected; you’d assumed, perhaps unfairly, that he’d be a shallow, sex-obsessed imbecile, but it seemed that you’d been completely wrong about him.
Well...almost completely. He was a horrendous flirt, dropping compliments and pick up lines in to almost every sentence and letting his hands roam all over your body, ghosting over your neck and collarbone and along your arms to link his fingers with your own. His fleeting touches drove you crazy.
And yet you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was analysing you. You were sure it was only because he was a Turk – and a drunk Turk at that, you reminded yourself, because there was no was he could still be sober after this much alcohol. But he was still clinging to coherency after enough drinks to knock out a normal person, and every half an hour you spotted him checking his PDA. You didn’t know what he was checking for. In all honesty, you weren’t sure you wanted to.
It was almost midnight when Reno finally announced, “I feel drunk, yo.”
You giggled. “You don’t look it.”
“Seriously?”
“You can talk, and your eyes haven’t gone hazy. If I hadn’t seen you practically inhaling those last few vodka shots I’d swear you were sober.”
Reno grinned at you, quirking an eyebrow. “That’s...pretty awesome, yo,” he told you. “Whaddaya think babe...am I sober enough to drive?”
Before you could answer, your godfather had butted in. “I’m not bein’ held responsible if you crash that monster bike o’ yours, mate,” he told Reno firmly. “You’re not drivin’ anywhere.”
The redhead pouted, first at your godfather and then at you, but even his charms weren’t enough to change your godfather’s mind. With a sigh, Reno turned to you. “Looks like you’re drivin’ then babe,” he said, cheeky grin plastered across his face.
“Fat chance.” That was your godfather again. “You can stay here, mate. I don’t trust you with her.”
You cast a jokingly indignant glance in your godfather’s direction but offered to show Reno to his room, and even to pay for it for him. Your godfather refused the second offer, and told you that Reno could have the room for free – yet more mates’ rates – as long as he was quiet and he cleaned up after himself. You kicked Reno in the calf before he could make a witty quip and, thanking your godfather profusely, got up to lead the redhead upstairs.
You only realised how drunk Reno really was when he stood up...and then collapsed on you after only a couple of seconds, wrapping his arms loosely around your shoulders for support. You grimaced and looped one of your own arms around his waist, letting him lean on you as you shuffled towards the entrance to the back of the bar.
It annoyed you slightly that you enjoyed the contact with Reno’s body so much. You could feel the muscles of his torso rippling as he walked – or perhaps staggered – along beside you, and his arm was pleasantly warm around your shoulders (if a little heavy.)
“Thanks babe,” Reno said, still with barely a hint of a slur.
“No problem,” you huffed, wondering how he could be mentally crystal clear and yet physically wasted. It wasn’t normal.
But...he wasn’t normal. He was a Turk, in a bar in the slums, flirting madly with a receptionist who he’d have to work with for the rest of his career. And you weren’t normal either; you were accepting the advances of a notorious pervert, purely because he looked cute and lonely when he was a little bit tipsy.
You rolled your eyes at yourself. This was so unlike you, and if word ever got out – which it would, knowing you friend, who you were sure had stayed to watch your progress for hours before she finally drifted off home – you’d never live it down.
Maybe it was the small amount of alcohol in your system talking, but at that moment, with Reno’s form pressed tightly against your side, you didn’t care.
You released Reno when you reached the door of your godfather’s spare room, leaning him against the wall. “Goodnight,” you told him firmly, reaching past his slouching body to push the door open.
“You could make it a really good night...” Reno murmured in to your ear as you leaned across him. One of his hands rose and started stroking your hair, sending pleasurable sparks along the entire length of your body. You shuddered lightly before you could help yourself.
“No,” you told the redhead firmly, taking his hand in your own and pushing it away from you, albeit more than a little reluctantly. “Not happening.”
Reno rolled his eyes at you, chuckling. “Why not, babe? Don’t ya want me to be happy?”
It was your turn to laugh this time; the sheer desperation radiated from him in waves. “You’re funny,” you told him solemnly, trying to usher him in to the room.
“And sexy,” he added just as seriously, allowing you to lift him away from the wall.
You gripped his arm gently and started to turn him to face the door. He let you to lead him, but only for a second; as soon as he had leverage he spun around, trapping you against the spot on the wall where he’d been leaning until only a moment ago with the weight of his body.
“Reno!” you huffed, trying to push him off of you. In retaliation he grabbed your wrists, pinning them to your sides so that you couldn’t attempt an escape.
“What, babe?” He grinned cheekily, teeth sparkling in the half-light. “You think I was gonna letcha get away with just that little tiny kiss from earlier?”
Before you could comment he’d swooped down and pressed his lips against yours, releasing your wrists when he was sure that you were compliant. You couldn’t have been more so; as soon as he let go of your hands you fisted them in his hair, pulling him even closer to you. You felt his lips curve against your own.
His hands drifted over the curves of your body, finally settling on your hips to lightly massage your skin through the fabric of your tee. You gasped softly and he seized the opportunity, dipping his tongue in to your mouth to draw out your own. You allowed him to control the kiss, enjoying his mastery and the way his hands felt as they slipped under the hem of your shirt.
Reno tucked his fingers in to the waistband of your trousers, and that was when your senses came back to you and you shoved him forcefully away. A pang of guilt shot through you when he stumbled in to the doorframe, but you didn’t regret it; this was wrong. This shouldn’t have happened, and it couldn’t go any further. He was your damned boss!
“Sorry, Reno, I…I have work tomorrow, I have to be in early, I should leave…” you rambled, turning on your heel and scuttling away down the hall. You glanced over your shoulder once to check Reno wasn’t following you, but he hadn’t moved; he was stood against the doorframe, just where you’d shoved him, staring longingly after you and touching his fingertips to his lips.
By some horrible twist of fate, you really did have to be in work early the next day. The phone call came at six in the morning and you wondered absently, as you forced yourself through your morning routine and in to the ShinRa building, if this was some sort of divine punishment for rejecting Reno.
And then you realised that the notion of karma was a silly one, and that if either of you was suffering the consequences of it, it was sure to be Reno. After all, he’d been the one trying to get you to sleep with him against your will…
You mulled that last thought over for a moment before deciding that it had been far too harsh. You didn’t want to sound like you were accusing Reno of anything unsavoury. You had nothing against the redhead; in fact, you’d thought about him all night and he’d rather grown on you. You couldn’t quite shake off the warm buzz that you’d felt when he’d kissed you that last time, and your lips still tingled from the sensations.
Occasionally, you caught yourself touching your lips absent-mindedly, echoing Reno’s last gesture. The other receptionists noticed it more often than you did and took great pleasure in speculating about the kind of night you’d had. You were happy to laugh along but dared not reveal what had really happened; you didn’t want the story getting around, and besides, they’d never believe you.
The sun was only just rising when Reno strutted through the main doors – much to the delight of the girls on shift with you, who all chipped in with comments about the ShinRa staff he’d supposedly slept with and how jealous they were. Despite your high morals, and the fact that you’d only kissed him, you smiled and felt very pleased with yourself.
When he started making a beeline for the reception desks the girls’ chatter reached fever pitch, and you were more than a little bit satisfied that it abated when the redhead stopped in front of your spot at the desk.
“What can I do for you today, sir?” you asked as politely as you could muster, trying your best to seem professional in the face of overwhelming desire. Reno’s eyes caught the morning light beautifully, their cheeky sparkle more intense than ever.
“You can have dinner with me, babe,” he told you matter-of-factly, although he couldn’t entirely hide the smile threatening to burst out on to his face.
Your professional visage crumbled at his words and, accompanied by the gasps of your fellow receptionists, you told him, “I’d love to.”
Reno followed your example, allowing a warm smile to grace his lips. “Great, yo,” he told you, leaning over the desk towards you. “I’ll meet ya here when you finish your shift, ‘kay?”
You nodded hastily, but Reno’s lips on yours stilled your head. The kiss was short and sweet, but it was still enough to leave your head spinning and your thoughts in turmoil.
“Bye, babe,” he said with a wink. And then he was gone, strutting away towards the lifts with what seemed to you to be a victorious grin on his face.
As soon as he was out of earshot the other receptionists mobbed you, asking you endless questions and positively begging to know how you’d successfully seduced a Turk. You just smiled coyly, barely able to concentrate on their questions, let alone your work; your mind was on Reno and Reno alone, and you could think of nothing but the night to come.
…that’s so much better than the first version. Seriously. Speech and action are a lot more balanced, and Reno seems to be more in character.
Anyway, let me know what you think of this. I’d like to know if I can still write fiction after almost two years of writing nothing but essays and coursework.
