Disclaimer: I don't own Reno, Rufus, or any other characters affiliated with Final Fantasy VII. Of course, I wish I did…
A/N: This will probably be only a two-parter, I'm not sure yet. I'm busy writing other things too, so we'll just see where this goes, shall we?
Oh yes, M/M. Rufus x Reno.
Rufus Shinra was not a very sociable person. He loathed the cocktail parties and outings his father occupied himself with, preferring the peaceful solitude of his densely packed library.
It was when Rufus had tilted his head back in a large overstuffed chair, opening an antique leather volume, when a particularly loudmouthed young Turk decided to barge in.
"Vice-President Shinra, sir?" asked the lanky redhead in the door. Rufus's hand curled into a fist as he set his book aside.
"There's a riot in Sector 7. Tseng wanted to know if…"
"If we want to take control?"
"Yeah," replied Reno quickly. He didn't like the way the Boss finished his sentences. It was creepy.
"Tell Tseng to send out thirty men out to keep it under control. Do you know what the riot is about, Reno?"
"Hmm," mused the President quietly, "forty-five men, just to be safe."
With that, Reno sauntered out, carefully shutting the door behind him.
"I don't know, man, Rufus Shinra is one creepy dude." said Reno to the bald, thuggish man beside him. Reno and Rude had finished the business in Sector 7 little over an hour ago, and were currently having drinks at one of the local bars.
"Yeah," replied Rude carefully, "but he has President Shinra for a father. So he has a good excuse."
"True," nodded Reno thoughtfully, drowning the last of his beer. "Cute though, in an 'Ice Prince of the North' sort of way."
"Reno. Don't say that about him!" Rude groaned, elbowing his companion in the side.
"Alright, alright. It was only a joke," he huffed. "I suppose we can get back. The booze isn't great here." He added, scowling at his mug.
Rude nodded and started to take out his wallet before pausing, his brow furrowed. "Why do I always have to pay?"
"Because you're just a nice guy," Reno grinned, slapping his friend on the back. Rude groaned and paid the barkeeper hastily before following the thinner man out the door.
It was the next day, and it was time for the Turks' weekly pep-talk. It did not, however, make the Turks' peppy so much as it made them slightly nervous. Rufus Shinra had that effect on most people - no, he had that effect on everybody.
"We," began the cold blond Vice-President slowly, "have finally discovered AVALANCHE's hideout in Sector 7. My father," he continued, hissing the word 'father' with an unmistakable loathing, "is thinking through our plan of attack as we speak. These… terrorists… know too much. It's time," he paused for affect, "we stop them."
Cheering from the Turks. Rufus looked around at his faithful team. Tseng looking rueful but eager, Elena looking hopeful. Rude clapping politely, Reno making a complete idiot out of himself.
Everything was normal. Rufus liked normal.
Reno grabbed a gun from its case and began to load it. He was politely reminded by Dot-head that he needed to work on his long distance shooting, and after some protest, obliged to the dark-haired man's wishes.
He missed the target. "Shit," he thought to himself. He fired again.
Better. But not good enough. He only got in the outer circle of the circular target.
"Goddamnit," he muttered.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
"Calm down, Reno. You'll never get any better that way."
Bang. Reno, not hearing anyone come in, had jumped and accidentally pulled the trigger when he felt someone's breath hot on his neck. He turned sharply to see the Vice-President mere centimeters from his nose.
"Vice-President, sir," Reno rasped uneasily, gingerly setting down the gun. "You… I didn't know you were here, sir."
"Indeed…" began the blonde man coolly, "you're holding your gun too far to the left. At most, you would graze someone's arm. Now I know why you were assigned the mag-rod."
"Guns aren't my specialty, sir."
"I can tell."
Silence. Reno wanted to punch the living daylights out of the man who had just insulted him, but thought better of it. The Vice-President did have a point.
"I'll try harder, sir."
"Call me Rufus," said the blond, "Sir gets so dull."
"Yes sir… uh, Rufus."
"That's better." Reno swore he almost saw the Vice-President's mouth curl into a grin. Almost.
Reno added more bullets to his pistol, and fired again. He missed. "Fuck."
Rufus sighed, placing his hand on his forehead impatiently. "Here," he started, getting behind the redhead and placing his arms on Reno's. Reno could feel the Vice-President's chin rest on his shoulder, his icy blue gaze drilling a hole through the wall ahead. He shivered, although he was anything but cold.
"Keep your arms here. And hold the gun like this." Rufus tilted the taller man's hands, running his soft fingers over Reno's knuckles. Reno could feel a bead of sweat trickle down from his forehead to his cheek. He shivered again. What is he doing…?
"And then you simply pull," he placed his right finger on Reno's, "the trigger." He squeezed Reno's finger under his.
Bang. It was a perfect hit.
Rufus gracefully pulled himself away from the taller man, and began to walk towards the exit. "Just remember to focus, Reno. You'll be fine."
As Rufus walked through the sliding doors, Reno set the gun down feebly.
"What the hell was that about?" he murmured to himself.
A/N: Chapter one d-o-n-e! I'm sorry it's so short. I've got a mind-splitting sinus headache and an essay to finish (gulp.. I hate essays). So I'll make it up to anyone who reads this in the next chapter. (wink)
Oh… the Rufus-helping-Reno-shoot-his-gun scene reminded me of the scene in Titanic where Rose and Jack go to the front of the ship… haha, it's making me giggly just thinking about it. "Oh, Rufus, I'm flying!"
Chyeah, right. ;P