plate_builder | Open Post

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.

Don't you just?

[ attaboy. Reno doesn't even grace that with a smile. not in the mood. just finishes right up with those stuffy buttons and pushes Reeve's shirt open. god dammit. of course he's hot. like, obviously he was going to be hot, but it's annoying him just how hot. he vents this annoyance, without absolutely any warning whatsoever, by turning his head and biting at Reeve's ear, tugging at the lobe. ]

You don't get to be on top, by the way.

[Hey, it's not like Reeve's got that great of a body. He doesn't put much into his fitness other than eating right and running a few miles a day down in the upper management gym. Maybe some pool time every now and then. So don't get mad at him about his appearance.

He hisses and shivers at the bite. What a glorious asshole.]

I'm surprised you haven't gagged me, so I'm not surprised by that statement.

[ ugh! ugh ugh ugh. everything makes him mad right now. this isn't how he planned it at all. it just hits different, getting his the way he gets all the time. makes no difference, Reeve or just some guy at a bar. the only change is that they know each other's first name. whatever crap Reeve was talking about before, he doesn't see it. feelings, psh.

he grabs hold of Reeve's tie and yanks him around with it, pulling it just a smidge too tight in his grasp. ]

I haven't gagged you 'cause I'm holding out hope the cameras outside will record you screaming, smartass.

[If you only ever do the same thing, Reno, how will you ever experiencing something new? How is it ever anything but fucking if all you do is this?]

And were that to happen, my secretary would likely call security.

[ he tried different, it didn't work. not that he had a clue what he was doing or how to express it normally and appropriately, but he feels he tried, and he's upset that it blew up in his face. now he's just venting. same old, same old. ]

Send her home, then. You're gonna be awhile. I'll page her for you.

[ and he starts to get up— ]

[Reeve considers it, and nods, his hands sliding from Reno.]

Lock the door.

[He's accepting this. What even is his life right now. He reaches for the phone, trusting Reno to go and lock the door. Meanwhile he'll call the desk and let her know that he's going to be late this evening, and will take the reports up himself. She's free to go home. Thank you, good night. And, if Reno does get up to go lock the door, Reeve will rise from his seat, because he is not ruining his good chair with sex. Instead he'd head for the couch, tilting his head to indicate Reno should join him.]

[ heh. easy. typical. Reno does in fact to get up and lock the door, clicking it purposefully and pausing while Reeve is on the phone to watch through the pane of frosted glass as the silhouette of Reeve's secretary gets to her feet, gathers her things, puts her coat on. bet she knows exactly what's going on. what other assumption is there to make? if it had been someone else, maybe it'd just be business, but since it's him, and he's got such a reputation... now that reputation will rub off on Reeve, too.

good. jerk. he deserves that. Reno turns to study him on the couch, his expression a mask of unimpressed, just a defense mechanism. he saunters his way over just for the effect and sits right back down across Reeve's lap, pushing him into the back of the couch. ]

Does she have to put up with this type of shit a lot? Bet she was hoping you were calling to invite her up.

[As if Reeve didn't once have his own reputation, back when Reno was younger and the executive hadn't achieved the title yet. How they hadn't run into one another before was a question.]

I've had issues with her believing that I would do just that. But no, she doesn't. I don't misuse my office.

[He frowns, reaching out to curl his fingers around the back of Reno's neck. And then he pulls the man in to press their lips together. Don't assume you're getting through this without some play at intimacy.]

[ ordinarily, Reno would refuse this, considering the mood he's in, the things he'd rather do to Reeve instead, and how he feels about that sort of crap to begin with, but if he's being given an opening, he'll take it. that doesn't stop him from growling when Reeve pulls him in, but he doesn't go savage, biting and making a mess of him. he does press back hard, pushing their bodies flush together and kissing back hard enough to leave them both with swollen lips, but the way he brings both hands up to frame either side of Reeve's face is... oddly tender. like he doesn't intend to let him pull away, but without the pressure to prevent him from it if he really wanted to. ]

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