plate_builder | Open Post

[Reeve... winces. Because of course he does. He did in fact offend Reno. He definitely deserves this treatment. Well, would deserve some other form of treatment. This one is weirder.]

I try to be a likable person. I thought we'd gone over that.

Yeah, we did. But that's before I had the time to sit around and think about why I didn't want to just let you be right. Besides that I hate fuckers that get to say I told you so.

[ scooting right to the edge of that desk... like he might just go for Reeve's lap. he's got a clear shot to jump right on him, honestly. but if he wanted it to be a big surprise, he wouldn't make it obvious what he's thinking about doing. ]

Reno, I... I don't know what it is you want. And I have a lot of work to get to. Please, it would be better if you let me get to it.

[Still blushing, still looking nervous.]

You really have no intention of listening to me, do you?

No, 'course I don't. Am I making you nervous? You don't think I'm gonna hurt you, do you? C'mon, man.

[ i mean.... there's a possibility. nobody sneaks into someone's office after hours and intimidates them in their own space just for fun, right right? (wrong; it's Reno that does that). ]

You wouldn't hurt me, because you wouldn't want to explain to Tseng why you did so.

[And he probably wouldn't want the punishment that went into it. Not that Reeve can imagine what punishments Tseng would offer the man.]

Yes. You are making me nervous, but not for that concern.

Tch... take answering to Tseng out of the picture for a second, if you can get your thirst for the guy in check long enough. Still think I'd hurt you?

[ honestly at this point this is apropos of nothing anymore, he's just curious. whatever, he's got time to get off track. and Reeve's not going anywhere until he's quite finished. ]

[Actually, Reeve does think he's going to go somewhere, which is to reach for his phone. He's going to call Tseng, have him remove his subordinate from Reeve's desk.]

This is silly, Reno. I have work to do. Say whatever you came to say so I can get to it?

[ oh, no you don't, pal. Reno's hand snaps out, lightning quick, and grabs hold of Reeve's wrist. he's a small thing, smaller even than Reeve, but he's got the strength not only to stop him but to wrench his arm up and then back as he stands and moves closer to him, looming over his chair. it's rough, but it won't break his arm. if he doesn't struggle. ]

I asked you a question—answer it. You think I'd hurt you if I could do it with impunity? You think I'm the sort of person that lashes out at random, just for fun? Do you?

No. You would not be a Turk if you were like that. You'd be a dog on a chain. Shinra is more refined in their application of pressure through the Turks.

[There are other people to be the rabid dogs that bite when it wasn't commanded.]

Which is why I know you will let me go.

I'm not letting go of shit.

[ and he doesn't, in fact, let go of Reeves arm. he uses it practically as a handlebar to yank him along, rolling his chair back into the opposite wall behind him, so he's got nowhere to go. ]

You don't know anything about pressure. You've got it really easy here. When you feel something, you get to just feel it. Whatever you want, whenever you want. Spoiled brat.

I know about application of pressure, Reno. If you think I don't, then you maintain a very narrow view of the world and pressure. And you've little to no understanding of how I function in my personal life, beyond what I like from the men and women in my bed. And even that you have only as heresay.

[Getting back to that pressure thing, Reeve reaches out, pressing his fingers into a pressure point just behind Reno's thumb. If he applied force, the pain should make Reno's thumb jerk away. Which he doesn't do. But he knows Reno should know it.]

I have hundreds of thousands of lives on my shoulders every day. And most people fail to respect that. Pressure is what I eat and breathe and I have nothing that frees me from it. There are times I believe I should have stayed a farm boy.

Is that right.

[ oh, he knows. and he's got half a mind to grab Reeve's other wrist, too, but he doesn't do that, either. just maintains his grip and sits right down on Reeve's lap. straddling him, but not really close enough to be way too close. more like perched across his knees, resting his weight mostly on his own two feet. ]

Let me tell you what I feel, farm boy. I feel you don't exactly appreciate the risk it is for me to feel anything, ever, and mistook it for some kind of shortage in my wiring. I feel you should get your facts straight. I feel like I'm fucking sick and tired of hearing you call me "Turk" so god damn much. So, I feel like it's high time you stopped ascribing everything I do or don't do to my job and started looking at me like a person, and since you can't seem to get out of your own business-brain long enough to manage it, I felt I'd come and help you out with that. Don't answer me. Just nod if you're listening.

[Reeve goes from cool and collected, or feigning it, to shocked and staring at Reno with red in his cheeks as the man moves into his lap. This isn't okay.]

No. You don't command me. And you sure treat me like a suit more than you treat me like a person. Don't you bring your attitude here, into my office, and presume to order me around with implications of violence.

"Your" office, you stupid mother fucker, who do you think keeps you in it?!

[ honestly, Reno nearly loses his temper entirely right there. he brings his free hand up and he's this close to hitting Reeve—thisclose. thisfuckingclose. but he didn't come here to pop off and get mad, he had an entirely different plan in mind. talk about what he "feels," indeed. his emotions are already getting the better of him, even if they are just coming out the way they usually do: rage.

he grits his teeth and lowers his hand, seemingly with great effort. ]

You didn't hear a god damn word I said, did you?

[Oh, he'd heard Reno, and he'd chosen to ignore what he'd been told to do. Because Reno doesn't get how this works.]

I heard you. But I also know that since you walked in this room you have not cared at all for a thing I have said or wanted. So what motivation do I have for listening to you.

You want me to see you as a person? Don't ambush me in my office like this. What were you thinking would come from this? I am rather certain our goal has always been friendship, and I don't let my friends treat me like this. I want to see you like a person, but you don't seem willing to understand that you don't get to map out our conversation as if I'm a doll to be played off of, or a trained guard hound to only act at your command.

[The executive sighs, and he reaches up to pinch at the bridge of his nose.]

You say you came here to get me out of my business-mind. Perhaps for my own good. That's great. Thank you. I have four reports that need processed and delivered to the President in the next two hours. Not that he'll look at them. But if the e-mails aren't time stamped by then, if they aren't received by his night secretary by then, I could get in trouble, and there goes my supposedly cushy job. If you have funny business you want to get up to, you can wait the approximate forty minutes to an hour that it would take me to get the work done and be certain of my continued employment for tomorrow. If you wish, you can have my couch and attempt to distract me. But if friend would let me finish this before dragging me into whatever plan he has.

You keep saying "friend" like it's a joke to you.

[ what an asshole. this is pointless. he's so over talking. maybe the guy was right, maybe he's just incapable of functioning the way he's supposed to. he's only got one friend, and he never had any problems with that, so what's the deal with everybody else? must be him. something wrong with his wiring, like he said. his expression goes funny, then just like that it's layered over with nothing but anger again.

unlike before, he's not about to get his feelings hurt and storm off to cry about it. he's not walking away empty-handed and humiliated a second time. he scoots himself higher up on Reeve's lap, now officially way too close, and wrenches the arm he's still got in his grasp back behind his chair. ]

Fuck your reports. I'm not gonna sit pretty and beg for your attention, either, you smug bitch.

[ before he can think about giving him a fight, either, Reno grabs a handful of Reeve's hair and yanks his head back so he can bite down right on the jugular. like the animal he evidently is. ]

It's not a j-

[But what he's going to say in protest is cut off by the pain of the new restraining position. And he glares up at the other man, definitely in no way pleased by this. The next protest dies on his lips because Reno's pulling at his hair and biting and Reeve? Hates his body for the very real way he reacts. Hates the hiss of pained pleasure that escapes his lips, and how his hips buck just a little against Reno.]

[ that's right, punk. he doesn't let up on the back of his head even after he's made his point; if anything, he only pulls harder, wrenching Reeve's head back further, relentless like he'd like to tear that whole handful of hair right out of his head. it's not brutally rough, he could be really horrid if he wanted to. the point isn't to inflict pain for the sake of it, just to do what he knows he can: demand the fucking attention he wants, since asking nicely ("nicely," in his book, has been most of everything so far) isn't working.

just to be a fucker, he goes from biting to sucking, leaves a mark just above the collar, something he'll have to go out of his way to hide. then another, and another, pressing insistently closer, grinding their hips together. the arm he's got trapped, he goes ahead maneuvers back around to place Reeve's hand on his thigh. and then, finally, lets go of it. ]

[Problem with sharing your sexual preferences with a man like Reno in the form of gossip... was that it meant Reno knew just what to do to work him up. Which isn't fair.

Once his hand is free to move on Reno's thigh he grips it tightly, his other hand moving to grab Reno's hip and try and hold him still.]

You're fucking impossible.

[ Reno scoffs, bites again. then, gradually, relinquishes his grasp in Reeve's hair and almost seems to let him down gentle. something about the way he keeps his hand on the back of his head, though, means he doesn't intend for him to look away. particularly not when he sits up taller and puts their faces real, real close together. unflinching eye contact. ]

Quit your bitching. You're not above this. You know you're not.

You don't decide what I am and am not above.

[Yes, there is still defiance and annoyance in Reeve's eyes. For instance, he's going to have to be in the building for HOURS to make sure his secretary won't be around when he leaves. Because there is NO WAY she won't know where the bruises came from.]

You're right, I don't. That's all you.

[ you can't bullshit him by kicking up a fuss, he knows. and he's sick to damn death of trying to goad him into admitting it. or anything else, for that matter. in spite of that hand on his hip, Reno rolls them again, while his fingers go straight for the buttons on his dumb, fancy suit. casual, but also insistent, their mouths close enough to touch but not leaning in. ]

Who said I even want to have sex with you?

[His hand moves from Reno's thigh to one of those working at his clothes.]

You may be beautiful and here, but that doesn't mean I want you.

[ he snorts at that. beautiful? fucking asshole. that just makes him want to him again. if he wasn't busy using now both hands to shoo Reeve away and keep at those buttons, he just might. it'd sure make him feel better. his insides, like, sting. ]

So tell me you don't. Tell me to "get the fuck out, right now, and don't come back."

[The problem was... Reeve didn't want him to go. And he didn't want to admit it. He sighs and releases Reno's wrist.]

I hate it when you're right.

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