Title: Coffee Pots and Dress Shirts
Content Notes: None.
Word Count: 1267 words.
Summary: Reno drags Elena out of bed just so he can watch her make coffee.
Author's Note(s): Established Reno/Rude/Elena relationship, slice of life and snuggles!
[[ … One-Shot … ]]
There was a pressure on her arm. Fingertips, maybe. She didn't open her eyes right away though, just stayed where she was, face pressed in against the warmth she was half lying on. The pressure lifted for a moment, then returned, and she sighed before she cracked one eye open to look up at Reno. He was standing by the bed, jeans on and shirt missing, raising an eyebrow as he tilted his head toward the door. She wrinkled her nose, blinked once or twice to make sure her vision was clear before she glanced up at Rude - the warmth she was laying on - and she shook her head very slightly. He was still asleep. She wasn't about to move until she had to.
Reno's grin widened, and he drew his hand back to grab something white from the edge of the bed, and he held it out to her, tilting his head toward the door again. His hair was stupidly red in the morning light filtering through the white curtain, and she dragged her gaze down from it long enough to realize that he was holding a dress shirt out to her. Had to be either his or Rude's, and given how much white material hung off the tips of his fingers, she'd put money it being Rude's shirt. Her eyes narrowed, and then she blew out a very soft breath before she shifted slowly as she could, easing out of the bed without waking up Rude. She wasn't wearing anything until she took the shirt from those fingertips and pulled it on, buttoning it absently, but it was long enough to cover half her thighs, and she'd worn much less around Reno before.
He followed her out of the room, gently closing the door behind him, quiet enough that she had to look over her shoulder just to make sure he actually shut it, and then she yawned, reaching up to rub one of her eyes. "What couldn't wait, Reno?" she asked softly, barely breathing the words, and he snorted as he headed into the kitchen. She followed him more out of instinct than anything. She'd been following him ever since he and Rude had pulled her off that damn mountain, had held her and called her an idiot for trusting SOLDIER to have her back and had made everything - even the way the Don had left her feeling slimy just from him looking at her - better. Too long to stop now.
She sighed as he dropped onto a bar stool, pointing wordlessly to the coffee pot that had apparently, given the amount of mess around it, defeated him yet again. She rubbed her face some more as she crossed the kitchen and grabbed the basket for the coffee pot that was sitting out, and she dumped the old grounds into the trash before she set to work rinsing the filter and basket. She measured coffee out idly, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, asking, "How the hell have you lived with him for this long, and you still can't work the pot?"
Reno snorted, and she dropped the basket and filter back into place before she pulled out the carafe to wash and fill with water. She glanced over her shoulder at him, a sharp retort on the tip of her tongue that died away the minute she saw how Reno was looking at her. His eyes were on where the shirt fell across her thighs, and she tilted her head slightly, a little grin tugging on her lips as she shifted her weight one more time, just to see how his gaze moved with her. She started to laugh, attention jerked away from him to the carafe in her hand that was overflowing with water from the tap. She wasn't even frustrated as she poured off the excess water. There was no low 'damn' or muttered 'well, shit' that might have normally escaped her. Not under the weight of the look Reno had been giving her.
"Don't like th' coffee pot," Reno said finally, and she made a low noise in response as she focused on pouring water into the back of the coffee maker. "'Sides, no reason t' learn how t' work th' damn thing, yeah? Got a pretty blonde rookie t' do it for me."
She waited until the carafe was empty before she shot him a look over her shoulder. She hadn't been the rookie in years. Not since the Northern Crater, not since she and Tseng had dragged back home, bandaged and alive only thanks to Valentine. Honestly, she hadn't been the rookie since Meteor. Since the first night the three of them had shared a room and refused to admit the fact that all three of them were fucking scared out of their damn minds. She'd been sleeping with the two of them for several weeks before sex entered the picture. Tseng had been in the hospital in Junon those weeks; it had been just the three of them, and for a while, it had seemed like only the three of them existed. That perhaps they were the only sane ones left as the whole damn world went up in flames around them.
But Reno's grin was easy and affectionate, all teasing as he watched her set everything for the coffee pot short of actually turning it on. Rude would do that when he finally got up. She yawned again, rubbing her eyes one more time before she flipped him the finger and headed back into the bedroom. She paused for just a second, looking at Rude, admiring the faint morning light as it streamed in through the curtains to slide over his skin and the rucked up sheets and the bunched up quilt. Light glinted off the edge of his glasses on the nightstand, and the clock rolled over to the hour. She smiled faintly when Reno stepped into the room behind her, shutting the door quietly behind them and pressing in close to her, and she leaned back against him for just a second. His fingers started to work on the buttons of her shirt, and she batted his hands away as she stepped into the room more and headed back to the bed. She didn't bother to peel the shirt off before she eased down onto the sheets, wriggling around just enough to get her feet under them, and she wrapped one arm around Rude's middle and laid her head on his chest, her eyes closing.
After a minute, she heard Reno's jeans dropping to the floor, and she inched over enough to let him get on the bed too. It was a symbolic move more than anything; the bed was massive and he could have easily dropped onto it without her moving, but moving encouraged him to press in next to her again. His arm wrapped around her and tugged her in close against him, and she could have purred for that if she'd let herself. Instead, she reached down and pushed her fingers in between his, her hand lying against the back of his on her stomach. She squeezed just a little, just enough to feel him, and he laughed very softly - she felt it more than she heard it - as he leaned in close enough to brush his lips against the back of her neck.
She smiled, enjoying the heat and the pressure of both of them against her. It was them against the world, and for right now, she was perfectly content with telling the world to fuck off and let her sleep.