I have no idea where this came from. I just always figured that the whole "omg renos from da slums" was boring and wanted to try something new. But then I realised that I couldn't be bothered and wrote this instead. I'm so motivated.
By The Way
He was beautiful, even if no-one else saw it. There was fire in his eyes, which were slightly different sizes, and I was attracted to him immediately. He was 15, maybe 16. A redhead from the country. A complete slack-jawed yokel, with orange freckles and crooked teeth. The first time I ever met him he came onto me, even though I'm obviously out of his league. And a guy. He was wearing a check, flannel shirt which had been rolled up to reveal a slim, pale stomach, with denim shorts, bright yellow socks and sandals. I knew almost immediately that I wanted to fuck him.
He didn't care when anyone laughed at him. He laughed right back. His complete inabilty to give a flying fuck turned me on beyond belief, but I still denied him everytime he came creeping. Unfortunately, I didn't share his carefree attitidue and felt like I had some sort of reputation to protect. I now realise that this is utter bullshit.
After one whole month of daily propositions I gave in. I took him to my room, threw him down on the bed and fucked him good and proper. He spread his skinny, milk-bottle thighs for me and moaned like a bitch in heat. I thrust hard and fast and deep and shallow. He gave as good as he got, with passionate kisses, his hips flicking upwards to meet my every move. He completely stole the show and I didn't mind one bit. It was amazing.
Men watched him everywhere he went. I might've gotten jealous, but I'm not the jealous type. His father however was completely infuriated by it. He was a man just as skinny as his son, with a habit for chewing tobacco and beating his family. He was always attempting to force his son to show less skin.
"You're attractive to men" he'd drawl, spitting a foul mouthful of black goo onto the floor, "Girls are off limits y'see, 'coz they're weak. But pretty boys like you are a challenge, free game."
Unfortunately he had not brought his son up to respect his elders, so was always ignored. He always referred to his father as a twat and would deliberately change into shorts that almost showed the top of his thighs as soon as his father mentioned anything to do with clothes and men.
I discovered his true beauty when a couple of these men went too far. They waited for the opportune moment, when I had left to go to the means room and he was all alone at the table in the shitty slum diner. I emerged from the toilets five minutes later to find two thoroughly beaten grown men and a 16-year-old readhead with a bloody nose and a grin like a fucking hyena.
Needless to say, he got extra attention int he bedroom that night. I'd wake up many mornings with him lying next to me. His mouth was always open and his fingers twitched as he slept. For some reason I found this to be endearing. He was so lovely.
Making something of yourself in the Midgar slums is damn near impossible, but we gave it one fucking good shot. We joined the turks. He was 18, I was 19. And we're still here today, eight years later. I'm suprised we;ve both survived so long. He's still a redheaded, slack-jawed yokel with bad dialect and crooked teeth and we still share a bed and he still tiwches and he still has the fashion sense of a 12-year-old dizzy on lemonade and he still moans like a bitch and he still complains everytime I mention anything about his freckles and men still watch him everywhere we walk and he's still the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. I'm Rude and he's Reno. And I fucking love him to death.
Oh yeah, and by the way, the sex is still amazing.