AN: Circa-survive asked me to write a Reno and Yazoo fic, and I've been searching for an idea for a while now. This just seemed to make sense. Whilst inspired by the riots currently in London, it is certainly not based within them.
Warnings: Violence, rioting, Reno's thoughts, swearing, sexual ideas, angst
Main Characters: Reno and Yazoo

Reno stood at the window of the ShinRa building, watching the flames lick at the buildings which spread out below the plate. His soul sang to be with them, as he watched the slummers try to rebel against the life they had been forced into. It had struck suddenly, a protest which had spread, anger flowing up to the plate. Slum children, abandoned and neglected, beggars and worse, had had enough.

But he was a Turk now, and he followed the rest of the Turks into the car. The SOLDIER were being sent to smash the fighting groups, but they were fast, darting away from the SOLDIER, scurrying through the alleyways they lived in and disappearing into the night. They were running through pathways known only to those who had grown up in the shadow of the slums. So tactics had changed. Turks were being used, both for the fear they inspired, and the ease with which they could infiltrate groups, isolate the ring leaders, and bring them in for questioning.

He sat beside Rude, tapping his EMR against his leg. He was thrilled, heart racing. He had thought the fight had been beaten from those in the slums; that they had lost all hope, and here they were, fighting off their oppressors. It would be crushed, he knew that, ShinRa's rule would be returned, but for a few moments power had hung in the balance and it delighted him. Rude's hand landed heavy upon his shoulder, reminding him of the weight of his responsibility, and he tried to sit still.

When they reached the slums, he made his way through the crowds, melding in naturally. This was his home, it was where he belonged. No matter what else happened, his soul was from the streets. He was armed with his EMR, but had left his jacket behind. His trousers were not trademark blue, but instead a messy black, some of his civvies. The shirt hung open at the top, and his hair was scraped back into a vivid red ponytail. He was able to walk through unchallenged, not because he was recognised as a Turk, but because he was one of them.

Reno felt he had been born for this mission. He was going to restore peace to his city, and do it with as little innocent blood spilt as possible. He believed in what the others were fighting for, but didn't think this would make any difference. If anything, it would make it worse – he wouldn't put it past the President to have the slummers rounded up and shot if any more destruction occurred. In his eyes he was helping, though he knew that the men and women surrounding him would never see it that way.

He traipsed through the crowd, head high. The scent of smoke filled the air, and a few streets away he could see the orange light painting the grimy alleyways with life. He followed the surge of people, heading towards the flames. It was beautiful. He shook his head, trying to focus on his job, muttering under his breath.
"Come on Red, you have to concentrate." He almost laughed when he realised he'd just called himself Red. Red was the boy from the slums, he'd chosen the name Reno in the Turks. He didn't correct himself, letting himself fall into the slummer mindset.

He needed to find the leader of at least this little band. Rocks and pebbles were being thrown at ShinRa signs, and a young girl in a pink dress and a pink ribbon was taking a metal bar to one of the power cables. None of these were organisers, he was sure of that. They were ecstatic, but they'd been cowed by their life in the slums. None of them had the power to do this. He turned towards the flames, walking closer to them.

There. Standing near to the fire, shouting out orders, gesturing with his hands, a sparkle in those eyes which were so vividly green he could see them from this distance. This one was a leader. Reno gazed at the other's flame coloured hair, and was almost hypnotised. Reno hadn't even registered he was walking forwards, but soon he was sidling up to the other. At this close proximity he could see that the hair of the man wasn't red but was instead a brilliant silver, reflecting the colour of the flames. He stared, open mouthed.

The other noticed him looking, and held out a hand, and Reno shook it, realising suddenly that he'd got closer than he had intended to. Still, this could be useful.
"I'm Reno. I wanna help us slummers. I'm sick of ShinRa's bullshit."

"Yazoo. Welcome aboard."
Reno couldn't place the other's accent. It wasn't from the slums, it was more plater than anything, though it had a strange after-echo.
"Wha's the plan then?" Reno asked curiously, wondering just how much the other had thought through. He was sure the rest of the Turks would have considered this to be a rabble, with only minimal organisation, but Reno wasn't so sure. He thought that there could be a big plan behind this.
"Attacking all the wires which provide power to the plate." Yazoo said simply. "If you can climb you can help."

Reno nodded, making his way to one of the pillars and glancing up. Before he even put his foot on the lowest bar of the structure he was pulled back by Yazoo.
"We've got company." The silver-haired youth explained, dragging Reno into a side alley, pressing him back against a wall. Reno felt the other pressed close to him, saw the fury and passion in his eyes, and was left breathless. He wrapped his arms around Yazoo.

Yazoo gripped him in return, running his fingers through the other's hair. Before either of them had truly understood what had happened they were kissing passionately, Reno moaning against the other's lips. Their skin was warm from the flames only a street away, and their hearts raced in unison. Reno's hands made their way to the buttons on Yazoo's shirt, quirking an eyebrow to ask permission before slipping his hands inside to caress the other's chest.

Yazoo's head lowered as he nipped and sucked at the other's neck, earning pleasured groans from Reno. Reno's head swum with delight. He was losing himself in the moment, in the promise and rebellion of this young man. His hands ran down to Yazoo's hips, and then up to his shoulders.

Outside, a troop of SOLDIER ran past, casting ice materia to extinguish the flames, and setting up guards around the power cables. The men held out their swords, knowing that the comfort of those on the plate mattered more than the lives of the slummers.

Back in the alleyway, Reno was clutching closer to Yazoo's coat, mind filled with a dream. He could throw away ShinRa, wake up in the bed of this nymph each morning. Together, they could use the rebel's natural command of the slummers and Reno's insider knowledge to cripple ShinRa, to change the lives of those who needed it most. They'd be heroes, they'd make life better. He threw his head back as Yazoo found his hips. The image in Reno's mind got more vivid, and focussed less on the long term future. He could rut with Yazoo in this alleyway, then tell him who he was, why he'd changed his mind. He supported the other's cause, he could convince Yazoo of that, and they'd do what was right.

Reno tightened his grip on Yazoo's shoulders, running his hands the length of the other's arms, wrapping his hands around the other's wrists. He kissed him deeper as he pushed the other's hands behind his back, gripping both wrists in one hand. He moaned against Yazoo's lips, sucking on his tongue as he snapped the cuffs on.

Yazoo didn't protest, didn't struggle. He just moved away, staring into Reno's eyes with betrayal. In the distance, glass shattered as the heat conquered it. Reno swore under his breath, wishing he would fight. If Yazoo struggled he wouldn't have to feel this overwhelming guilt.

"In another life." He whispered under his breath. No matter what he wanted, he was ShinRa now. The Turks were the only family he had, he couldn't betray them. He wasn't Red anymore, it wasn't just his life. His dream couldn't happen, even if he wished it would. He'd never be the one to free the slums.

Yazoo nodded, eyes meeting Reno's with silent understanding. The two of them waited in silence for back up to arrive. Yazoo was bundled away, head held high, seemingly deaf to the comments of the SOLDIER leading him.

On the journey back, Reno fastened the buttons of his shirt, staring at Rude, averting his gaze from the smouldering slums. He was going home.