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Chapter Text

The University of Midgard was a much better place than the school in Nibelheim. There was much more space here, the corridors were spacious, and people were busy only with their own affairs. For the first few months, Cloud had trouble adjusting. He didn't like new places or changes in his surroundings or interactions with other people. But he quickly found out that he didn't have to do anything here. If he didn't want to talk to anyone, he just didn't do it, thus hurting his entire family and ancestors going back to the fifth generation. He did not have to attend meetings he didn't want. He cleaned whenever he wanted, ate what he wanted, and slept when he was tired. He finally understood what it meant to be independent.

Cloud Strife, a second-year logistics student, was about to take his first anatomy class. He was studying something completely different, but at some point the university authorities ordered that as part of broadening their horizons, students choose one subject that was not relevant to their field. This particular subject was being taught by Dr. Sephiroth, and at the very thought of it, Cloud felt fear mixed with excitement. He had once seen a man on television and remembered how much he had been impressed by him at the time. So when he saw his name next to one of the subjects, he thoughtlessly signed up for it. Now he regretted it a little, especially since none of his friends had shown any desire to participate in the classes, but it was too late.

The biology department gave him a shiver. It was one of the oldest buildings in the university, and although the facade on the outside was refreshed, it was noticeable inside that the building belonged to a different era. The high ceilings had arched vaults, the doors and windows had unusual shapes, and there was a solid, very heavy door, and from the gallery upstairs you could peer into the inner courtyard. The walls were cold and the marble floors were smoothed by a thousand steps. Some stairs were wooden and creaked under shoes, in case they were about to break. There was also no elevator, so you had to delve into a maze of corridors to find your way up the stairs. Apart from that, there were some animal skeletons enclosed in glass cases. On the walls hung posters depicting various parts of the human body, some pictures of cells under microscopes, and hell knows what else. Cloud tried not to look too closely at all of this, but his eyes were inadvertently directed towards the relics.

As he walked through the corridors, he drew attention to the girls, who giggled at him and tried to get his attention. But he did not notice them, mired in his own thoughts. He was not very tall, with spike blond hair and blue eyes, in which lurked something unspeakably sad, as if his shoulders were pressing the weight that was causing him pain all the time. He had a fair complexion and a pretty face with delicate features, which conflicted somewhat with the image he was trying to adopt. Black combat boots, paired with a black T-shirt and a dark bag slung over his shoulder, made him look like someone not worth messing with. Unfortunately for him, even in this edition he looked rather adorable.

The corridor didn't end, but his time was. He was just wondering if he should have capitulated and asked someone for directions, when he spotted the room number he was looking for at one door. Internally, he breathed a sigh of relief. He never liked social interactions, he always felt extremely awkward, which made him say something inappropriate, or not say enough, leading to misunderstandings.

A crowd of students had just poured through the door, so he waited patiently for his turn to be inside. The lecture hall was a large room with a high ceiling and benches arranged like stairs, each row of seats was a little higher than the last. At the front was an escalator, and on it was a long desk and a speaker for the speaker. On the wall behind them hung a blackboard and a white sheet of material for displaying the presentation. All this was illuminated by the sun falling in through the huge, floor-to-ceiling windows.

Cloud took a seat somewhere in the middle row, pretending that he didn't feel all those curious looks on him at all. From his seat, he could see the garden outside the window bathed in the autumn sun and the students enjoying the nice weather. Everyone he saw looked as if being in this place and in his company was making them happy. Cloud felt a little jealous to see how easy it was for others to enjoy small things and socialize. He often wondered why he couldn't be so relaxed. Why did he always have to feel so tense? He sighed hard, trying not to think about it when he felt the presence of someone next to him.

He looked up to see a pretty girl in front of him in a pink knee-length dress and a red short-sleeved jacket. She had long, light brown hair gathered in a high ponytail tied with a red ribbon. She has a light complexion, almond eyes and a simple, delicate nose. Sympathy shone in the green eyes, also visible in the gentle lifting of the corners of her mouth.

“Hello,” she said in a pleasant voice to the ear.

"Hi" he replied, looking around first to make sure he was the person she was talking to. But no one was sitting behind him or next to him. The girl giggled but didn't comment in any way.

“Are you new? I haven't seen you here before," she asked, clasping her hands behind her back.

"Ugh... yes," he replied, looking at her with a delicate reserve, trying to guess her intentions. "Actually, I'm from the Department of Economics," he added, to which she nodded in understanding.

„Extra faculty?” she guessed, and when he confirmed it, she smiled even more sympathetically.

“I'm Aerith. If you have any questions or doubts, you can approach me, I'm happy to help," she offered, introducing herself. She extended her hand in his direction.

“Cloud,” he answered, after a moment’s hesitation, grasping her delicate fingers to shake them for no more than a few seconds.

"Nice to meet you, Cloud!" she said, tucking a strand of unruly hair behind her ear. "I hope you're having fun with us," she added, and when he replied only with a nod, she sent him another friendly smile, and then left to join her group of friends.

Cloud watched the girl talk for a moment, laughing at something said by some tall boy with dark hair pulled off his forehead with a red bandana, but he quickly lost interest. A tall, silver-haired man entered the room, making his mere appearance cause immediate calm. He was much more intimidating than the boy remembered from the TV show, or perhaps he just made a completely different impression live than through the TV screen. He was very handsome. Sharp facial features and piercing gaze. There was a self-satisfied smile on his lips, as if he was enjoying the clear atmosphere of the room. He seemed like a person who would not tolerate conversations or other noise and inappropriate behavior in his classes. Cloud didn't even notice when he sat more straight in his seat, his eyes glued to the teacher's silhouette. He was very elegant in his dark shirt, black pants and a long black coat. The only bright element of his outfit was a white tie.

"Welcome after a short break," he said, and his voice, subtle and quiet, reached even the furthest corners of the auditorium. It sounded like tidal waves crashing against the shore.

„This semester, we're going to study anatomy. I believe that each of you knows what this science is all about, and we'll start with no unnecessary introductions. Today, we'll talk about basic terminology and we'll get started musculoskeletal system. Any questions?" he asked, and when no one answered, he moved to the other side of the desk to launch the presentation from his laptop. But before he started, he looked around the room, not stopping his gaze at anyone in particular.

“ I remind you that taking pictures is both illegal and unnecessary. All presentations will be sent to your university email. I recommend taking notes," he said, as the first slide loaded behind his back with the name of the subject and a contact to write to to contact him. Then the lecture began, and with too much information and schematics of the human body, Cloud felt a headache approaching.

***

Cloud returned to his apartment completely exhausted. After his anatomy lecture, he had another lecture and math exercises that required him to keep focused. So when he heard two people laughing from the kitchen, he felt he wasn't ready for interaction. But he didn't even have time to take off his shoes when the head of Zack, his friend and roommate, leaned out of the doorway.

“Hi, Cloud! Kunsel and I ordered pizza, will you eat with us?" the boy asked, clearly excited, which was not a rare sight. Zack Fair had more energy in him than any other man Cloud knew. He was taller than him by his entire head, which he often liked to admonish and use against him. He had dark hair with one mischievous strand falling on his forehead. He was pretty good-looking, if you liked such goofy, manly muscular, confident idiots. Blond had no idea how they became friends and then roommates, but he suspected that Zack's character was a big part of it. Unflappable, brave, with a patience for the other person that was hard to accuse him of, looking at how he could be thoughtless at times. Generally, Zack would do something first, then wonder, but by some miracle he always managed to avoid trouble. Cloud suspected it was because of his disarming smile and sincere intentions that radiated from him. Just like at the time.

Cloud sighed, then nodded. He left his bag in the room, and then, rather reluctantly, stepped into the kitchen. He and Zack rented a small apartment in an older part of town, where it was often unsafe to go outside after dark. Their little nest was on the third floor and had two, not very large rooms. The kitchen and bathroom were connected by a short hallway, littered with shoes and garbage bags that Zack had promised to take out, but had most likely forgotten about. The coat rack was almost empty except for a denim jacket.

The kitchen was no bigger than Cloud's room at all. It had mint walls and bright furniture against one wall. The sink was cluttered with dishes that, again, Zack had promised to wash. On the kitchen table was still a pot of stew that Cloud had cooked a few days earlier. That was the deal. Blond was cooking, Brunette was washing. At least that was the theory, because in practice, Zack often left the cleaning "for later" until Cloud got upset with him and threatened to never cook for him again. At the table opposite the wall sat Kunsel, Zack's friend from the SOLDIER project they had been working on together. Kunsel had no clear special features. He was so average that if it wasn't for the fact that Cloud saw him often, he wouldn't have recognized him on the street. He greeted him with a broad smile and toasted with a glass of something transparent and colorless, but with bubbles. The boy guessed it was an soda.

“Hi, Cloudy! I hear you've signed up for a class with Dr. Sephiroth. How was it?" asked the elder without hiding his interest.

Cloud gave Zack a look. He didn't like it when a friend talked about him especially with Kunsel, who loved gossip and knew how to use it later.

 “Normally,” he replied, shrugging his shoulders.

He sat on the other side of the table, leaving no place by the furniture for Zack. They only had two chairs.

“Oh come on! You must have something interesting to say! Have you met any cool chicks there?!” he quipped, which caused irritation in the blonde.

Cloud involuntarily thought of Aerith.

“Nope,” he replied, wrapping his arms around his chest.

"We had a pretty good hunt today, didn't we?" said Zack, feeling the unpleasant aura radiating from Cloud's attitude. He knew that if he let his friend keep asking, he'd lock himself in and there'd be nothing left to pull out of him.

"Oh yes!" the second SOLDIER immediately caught up with a satisfied smile, reaching into the pockets of his pants. He pulled out a couple of rectangular squares from it, giving two to Cloud.

“What’s that?” asked the blonde hesitantly, reaching for what turned out to be two paper tickets.

“Tickets to the latest show of LOVELESS” – said Kunsel with pride.

 "I don't want it" Cloud replied immediately, giving the tickets to the boy. However, he didn't take them back, shoving them into the blonde's hands.

"You might not, but what about Tifa?" he asked cunningly, to which Cloud felt his face tingle with shame and anger. Of course he knew about that, too.

He didn't like it when people implied to him that he and a girl were in a relationship. OK, maybe he even thought it might work out, especially since Tifa seemed to like him, but he quickly realized that it wouldn't work. Mostly because she was a girl. He still wasn't used to the idea that he could like men, especially since none seemed right to him, let alone interested in him. Zack tried to convince him that wasn't true, and his looks and mysterious way of being attracted the attention of both women and men, but somehow he didn't quite believe him.

Fortunately, at that point, the intercom rang, and before Zack could respond, Cloud went out to pick up the order. When he returned, Kunsel seemed to magically forget what they were talking about. Zack probably told him to shut up, but honestly, he didn't care as long as he let him go.

“Do you want a plate?” the brunette asked, to which Cloud sent him a doubtful look, which he then transferred to the sink.

“ I'm washing up! Seriously! We're just going to eat," he promised, rummaging through the cupboards until he found two forgotten plates. One he served to the blonde, the other to Kunsel, who had managed to get to the slice with the most mushrooms and pepperoni. He grabbed a slice of pizza himself and happily began eating it standing up. Cloud snatched two for himself and put them on a plate, then he reised from his chair.

“Won’t you sit with us?” Zack asked, disappointed to the point that Cloud forced himself to look a little saddened by the fact in order to somehow appease him.

"Mathematics," he replied, to which a friend nodded in understanding. He knew Cloud was very serious about studying.

“I’ll get you some tea later!” he heard before disappearing into his room.

***

When Cloud lay in his bed later that evening, scrolling through social media before going to sleep, he didn't expect to get a notification from Messenger. The only person who ever texted him was Zack, asking for some small shopping on the way home, or dropping him off something he'd just forgotten about at home, and he needed it for now. So he was surprised to see an icon with a photo of a girl with a long ponytail that morning. Aerith Gainsborough was the name next to the photo. Cloud clicked on the chat icon, wondering how the girl had found him on the app, since he didn't give her his name, and his avatar photo represented his dream motorcycle.

"Hey, it's Aerith! We met in class this morning! I figured you probably don't have access to email since you're from another department, so I'm sending you a link to a drive where Sephiroth shares presentations from lectures and exercises. I can also add you to a group chat in case you need to learn more.„

The message was long and written in one string, which seemed amazing to him, considering that even if Zack had more than a few words to say, he would break them down into a million messages, as if he couldn't stop himself from saying a few "send" before finishing his thought. Underneath it was a link to the drive and an invitation to a shared chat. He opened the drive, saving it to his phone's memory, but he hesitated over the group chat. He'd never known these people. He wasn't good at online conversations, either. In conversations at all. And when they were supposed to involve more than two people, he was sure he'd get lost faster than he could fit in, and eventually the chat would only annoy him with notifications if people were spamming him. So he sighed, but ultimately did not join, leaving the invitation intact.

"Thanks for the link and the invitation, but I don't think I'll join. In case I may ask you, yes?" he wrote, and then deleted the second part of the message. He hesitated, wrote it again, deleted it. He sent the first part, and then typed the question again, and before he knew it, sent it. Immediately, he felt the heart in his chest racing to a frenzied gallop. He put down the phone, as if it had burned him, hiding his face in his hands, feeling that he was burning with embarrassment. Wasn't that just very stupid?

But before his mind could convince him that he should delete the message, the phone's screen lit up with a notification. With a fast beating heart and cheeks red with shame, he reached for the device and dragged the message down so he could read it without informing the person on the other side.

"Sure! I'm at your disposal if you don't feel part of the group enough to join us," she wrote, sending him plenty of emojis of understanding and support.

“Thank you” he wrote and sent and then...

“I’m not the best at interpersonal contact,” he added, not even knowing why he did it, but writing it was much easier than saying it out loud.

"It's okay, you don't have to force yourself into anything," she assured him, adding even more emojis to convince him she was being sincere. He wasn't sure if it was because of that, or maybe the memory of her friendly smile, but he believed her.

“Thank you, I appreciate it” he wrote back, intending to end the conversation in this way, but he got another message, which fortunately didn’t sound as if he was obliged to reply.

“No need to, see you next week.”

He turned off the chat and the phone, putting it down on the desk next to his bed. When he saw the first notification of the message he felt confused and surprised, but eventually managed to get the whole conversation going. Briefly, but he was sure that if he showed it to Zack, a friend would pat him proudly on the shoulder, then say something funny, wrapping his arms around his arms in a gesture of support. He felt much better in spirit and with those thoughts, he finally fell asleep without thinking about the next lecture with excessive anxiety.

Chapter Text

A week later, Cloud showed up for class literally two minutes before Sephiroth. Before the lecture, he wanted to enter the university library, but he didn't anticipate that it would take so long to find the book he needed. He didn't like to be late, so he made his way from the library to the Department of Biology almost in a hurry. He hadn't had time to say hello to Aerith, but apparently it didn't bother her at all, because when he found her after taking his seat, she waved at him, smiling friendly. He responded with a raised hand, but for him, it was tantamount to an effusive welcome.

Moments later, a silver-haired man appeared in the room and, after a brief welcome, began the lecture. This time, Cloud was much calmer and less overwhelmed by what was going on around him and at the presentation. So he could focus more on the lecturer, on how he spoke and how his calm, silky voice reached the farthest corners of the auditorium. That day, the boy sat much lower than the first time, so he had a better view of how Sephiroth was moving. Even if he was just stiring from leg to leg, or moving in front of his desk, it was a real spectacle. Cloud could recognize someone who wielded a sword and had an example of someone who certainly did. His steps were set too light for an ordinary man, and he moved too fluidly, as if his every step was planned. Gray hair followed him, and in the glare of the sun falling through the windows it took on a silver note. Then there was his eyes, which had something amazing in them. Cloud sat too far away to tell exactly what it was, but once he felt that look, the thrill ran down his neck. He wanted to know what was behind that piercing gaze.

He didn't realize he was staring, holding the tip of a pen in his mouth, until another glance wandered toward him, adorned with a subtle but unmistakable grin. Sephiroth noticed and apparently amused by that to the point where he decided to let the dreamy boy know. Cloud felt the heat striking his cheeks. He immediately lowered his head, pretending he was VERY busy taking notes. He heard a gentle, brief laugh that dismayed the rest of the group, pushing him deeper into the seat and his head between his shoulders, where he could die quietly of embarrassment. He couldn't believe he was actually staring, or that he'd been caught up in it. Despite what had happened, curiosity was burning inside him. What was Sephiroth like up close?

When the man announced the end of the lecture, Cloud was one of the first to be outside the room. He didn't look in the direction of the silver-haired man, afraid to meet him with his gaze and encounter another amused grin. He knew that what was on his mind was going to make him prone to such behavior more often, but did it make him want to quit? At that moment, maybe yes, but maybe by the next time he would find himself brave and curious enough to do it.

He stopped under the hall and waited for Aerith to come out with his friends. When he saw her, this time in a white dress and a blue sweater, he approached her group, pretending he wasn't nervous at all. Fortunately, his face somehow managed to separate from what he was experiencing in his head and heart, making him look confident and a little bored by the whole environment.

“Can we talk?” he asked when he got close enough for the girl to notice him.

"Oh! Hi, Cloud!" she greeted him, unconcerned that he hadn't done so in the first place. "Sure, how can I help you?" she asked, but he didn't answer, looking only meaningfully in the direction of her friends.

The girl giggled, but her eyes didn’t lose the friendly warmth he’d seen there from the beginning.

“I’ll be right back ” she promised, and then unceremoniously grabbed Cloud by the arm and pulled him, surprised by her direct demeanor, toward a nearby bench.

The blonde didn't much like sitting when he felt uncomfortable, as if his height was meant to help him feel more confident, even though when talking to men he was usually half a head lower. However, he succumbed to the encouraging patting of the seat next to the girl and sat next to her, comfortably stretching his legs in front of him.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” asked Aerith after they sat for a moment in awkward (for Cloud) silence.

“I wanted to ask,” the boy began, staring at the wall in front of him, “when your group has practical anatomy exercises” he said, but it sounded more like a statement of fact than a question.

"Hm? Would you like to join?" asked the slightly surprised girl.

“I’m thinking about it,” he replied truthfully.

'Wow! That's fantastic!' she enthused, clapping her hands. 'I didn't expect you to be so interested!'

“Yeah, me neither,” he murmured, hoping that the little shame he felt didn’t show up in his voice, and that Aerith wasn’t going to inquire if that was the only reason he was curious.

"Hmm ... let's take a look," she said, reaching for her phone in a pastel-green case and chocobo pendant that spins joyously with every move. It definitely matched what Cloud had noticed in her.

"You're lucky" she said, looking up her lesson plan in the device. "Sephiroth doesn't like to start exercises before lectures, so we have our first class this week. You haven't missed anything. Oh! I have! My class starts on Wednesday at 8 a.m. Do you have anything then?" she asked, seeing that he was also digging into his lesson plan.

"No," he said, not sure if he was more excited about such a turn of events, or terrified by it. His classes started around 11 a.m. that day, so he had perfect time for a two-hour practice session with the silver-haired, mysterious lecturer.

"Great!" Aerith's enthusiasm didn't wane one bit. "The class is in the Department of Anthropology. Do you know where it is?" she asked him, and seeing his doubtful face, she laughed heartily.

"It's okay," she said. “I'd be very happy to take you there. I can also wait for you on Wednesday at the main entrance to the department. How about that?" she offered.

The blond hesitated. He wasn't sure if he wanted to trouble a new friend. When he thought about the fact that he would most likely be in a group of her friends he didn't know and didn't necessarily want to meet, he wanted to say no. This most likely involved a tour of unfamiliar buildings on another day, or arriving on a Wednesday an hour earlier, but...

"You don't have to worry about my friends. I'll come alone," she interrupted his thought, making him wonder if  she couldn't read mind.

She giggled.

"I could almost hear the trills in your brain," she said, and there was a glint in her eyes. But what surprised him more and more about her was that she didn't have a shred of derision or malice in her. It really wasn't hard to just believe or trust her.

"All right," he agreed, hesitating for a moment, but stopped when a sweet smile blossomed on her face, which seemed to light up the world around her. It felt as if he had suddenly been under some spell that made the corners of his mouth go up.

“Oh, so you can smile!” she cried, and when he immediately returned to his dispassionate face, she looked at him apologetically.

'I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything bad! Rather, it's a terrible waste that you don't do it more often,' she explained, to which he raised his eyebrows in a questioning gesture.

"Oh, come on! You're so pre… handsome!" she corrected, guessing that calling him "pretty" might have hit his male ego. "Handsome men always looks good with smile on their faces," she added in an all-knowing tone, raising her finger.

"Hympf," Cloud murmured, rolling his eyes and clasping his hands on his chest. He didn't want to show that the compliment sowed a seed of contentment in him. He often heard in his direction that he was sweet, or tender, or the other way around, too gruff, unpleasant and rigid. Aerith, however, didn't seem bothered by how little he spoke, or his eternally serious face. He, too, he realized, found in her company a peace that he hadn't felt in many people. She was so gentle, patient and positive. Cloud felt relieved that in this unfamiliar part of the university where he feared he would disappear, there was someone who wanted to help him find himself.

He flinched, realizing that his thoughts had drifted away. Aerith was still sitting next to him, not speaking and allowing him to be in his own head. When she saw that he was back on the ground, she smiled gently.

“Thank you,” he said, not quite sure what he was actually thanking for, but he felt he meant it.

His eyes wandered to the phone to check the hour, and when he realized that his conversation with Aerith had dragged on and he had less than half an hour to go until his next lecture began, he rose from the bench.

“I have to go,” he explained, feeling awkward because he took her so much time.

"All right," she smiled, also getting up. "See you on Wednesday?" she asked again, and when he nodded, she corrected the bag on her shoulder and waved him goodbye. She turned around only once to see if he had gone, too.

Cloud looked away, noticing that her friends had not waited for her, and when she disappeared around the corner of the hallway, he took a quick step toward him.

***

Wednesday, in Cloud's judgment, came decidedly too soon. The days had passed at a dizzying pace from the very beginning of his stay in Midgard, but he felt that the two days separating him from probably the dumbest decision of his life had ended before he had time to blink. The alarm clock that morning seemed more insistent, and the snoring from Zack's room louder. The dust shimmering in the morning sun seemed to mock him as the pigeons that roamed the balcony of the apartment next door. He knew it was stupid, and that it was all thanks to his over-exuberant imagination, which was working on heightened stress levels, but there was nothing he could do about it.

Eventually, he forced himself to get out of bed, explaining to himself that he was only doing it so as not to expose Aerith. Showering, brushing his teeth - his daily routine. Styling his hair, of course, was part of it, too, reflection in the mirror, please fuck off,  and not look at him with an accusatory gaze. He wasn't doing it to look good in the eyes of his teacher. His choice of clothes had nothing to do with Sephiroth, either. He didn't think about it for a moment, choosing a single pair of trousers that weren't cargo pants but jeans that fit his legs and buttocks. The T-shirt was also chosen for a miss-hit, he didn't check each of them at all under the degree of rubbing and splashing of colour to finally wear the black sleeveless turtleneck that was his latest acquisition. He didn't choose it himself. Zack insisted that it looked great on him and that if he didn't buy it, he would do it for him and then throw it in his closet anyway.

Looking at himself in the mirror, he couldn't believe what he was actually doing. And that was only because Sephiroth was a character who had always been circling somewhere in his light, leaving his influence that he didn't even know he had. Now he wanted to get closer to this personand see if his imagination, his dreams and expectations would be fulfilled. He knew that he might be bitterly disappointed that the grey-haired man didn't have to be who he thought he was. Still, he wanted to find out, and he felt it was his only chance.

He checked his hair in the mirror again, sifted through the bag for all the items he needed and, having put on his heavy soldier's boots, left the house. A train journey awaited him to Sector Two, where the university was located. The city was divided into areas called sectors, and the lower the number a district had, the poorer the area.

Sector One was a residential zone for the richest people in the city. It also housed the town hall and the headquarters of Shinra, the corporation responsible for supplying energy to the entire Midgard. Officially the city was ruled by the mayor, unofficially the president of the largest corporation in the known world.

Sector two was the domain of learning. Apart from the university, it also housed all the schools from kindergarten to high school. There was also Midgard's largest hospital and a huge library - both of which were connected to the university. Sector three was the housing estate for the middle class. It also housed all the major cultural centres - the theatre, the opera, the elegant cafes and boutiques that Cloud wouldn't even try to peek into.

Sector four had the most jobs. Factories of all kinds, office buildings and craft shops stretched over a huge area, representing the wealth of the city. Sector five was where Cloud and Zack lived. It wasn't the poorest neighbourhood, but it wasn't the best either. There were lots of greenery and parks. Life was rather quiet here and only occasionally could you hear on the news that another knifeman was circling the streets...

Cloud didn't like to venture into sector six and was there maybe once, during the day, because at night he was too embarrassed to show up. The so-called Pleasure District of Midgard, where Don Corneo reigned supreme. It was a zone full of clubs of all kinds, food stalls of dubious provenance, casinos and the most profitable brothels. The most famous place there was a club, Honey Bee In, run by a famous figure like Andrea Rhodea. You could win and lose the same amount of money there. One of the places designated for this was a huge underground arena where fights took place.

Sectors Seven and Eight were actually more of the outskirts of the city. There was a lot of space there for warehouses and houses for those who could barely make ends meet. The richer called this place the Midgard slums, but as Mr Aboud said, the place had its charms. Like the Seven Heaven bar. The people there were much more friendly and helped each other as much as they could. Cloud also sometimes did some favours for the residents for a small fee. It wasn't bad there.

The train journey took half an hour, which he usually spent reading notes. The walk to the biology department took another twenty minutes. Cloud had to pass the modern Institute for Materia Research built of glass and concrete. Then he walked through the courtyard of the Mechanics and Robotics department, where he always felt something was buzzing and ticking on the edge of his consciousness. Then he'd turn by the dean's office, where there was always a nervous crowd of students, until finally he was almost on the other side of campus at the quiet Biology department. From the outside, the building looked like an inaccessible and mysterious old man, nestled among the centuries-old trees that perhaps remembered the days before Shinra's creation. It was always green, and between the bunches of flowers maintained by botany students sat benches on which you could rest after classes.

On one of the benches was Aerith sunken with her nose in a book. From a distance, Cloud couldn't see what it was, but when he got closer, he noticed it was an anatomy atlas.

"Hello Cloud!" a girl greeted him, tucking book into a bag with an image of an adorable raccoon drinking bubble tea from a large cup. She rose from the bench, smoothing her skirt over. It was blue that day, and she wore a white blouse with delicate flowers. It seemed to be forget-me-not if Cloud had guessed right.

"Ready for class?" she asked, leading him toward the arched passage that led to the courtyard that the blond had spotted earlier. The people who passed them greeted Aerith and she seemed to know them all at least by name.

“No,” he replied truthfully, tightening his fingers more tightly on the strap of the bag.

Aerith looked at him with an understanding look.

"It won't be bad, you'll see," she assured him, trying to comfort him somehow. "Dr. Sephiroth always prepares something nice for practice," she said. "He once brought a medical graduate to a histology class so that anyone who wanted could see their own tissues under a microscope!" she said in a tone as if envious of those who could get cut in the science class. Cloud wasn't sure if this was a good thing.

They passed the courtyard, walked under another arched vault to the back of the building where there were smaller, built of the same red brick, pavilions. As they walked past one of them, a sweet smell hit Cloud's nostril, which he could not identify.

“What’s that smell?” he asked, conceding that it would be too lame to clog his nose since Aerith didn’t seem to mind.

"Formaline," she replied, smiling at him with a little sympathy.""The zoology department does a lot of animal preparatory here” she added. Cloud felt the sour saliva coming into his mouth. Was there anything they didn't cut here?

Finally, they found themselves under the right building. The same brick, the same elegant windows and gargoyles on the edge of the gutter. Cloud felt his heart coming up to his throat. Could he still retreat? He had no time to think, because Aerith had already crossed the heavy doors inside, and he held them for her so she wouldn't have to bother with them. It was dark enough, but from the hallways came the noise of conversations and muffled laughter.

They climbed the stairs to the top and went through a much brighter corridor almost to the very end, where behind one door still open awaited the truth he was afraid to reach.

The classroom looked exactly as you could imagine. Benches, desks, cabinets with scientific aids, a chalkboard and a plastic skeleton standing somewhere in the corner. Someone put on it sunglasses and wrapped his bony neck in a pink boa. It looked grotesque, to say the least. The only thing that showed that Cloud hadn't gone back to high school were the bones stacked on shelves and that Sephiroth himself had laid out in boxes on the benches. Half of them were already occupied.

“Good morning,” Aerith said loudly, catching the teacher’s eye.

"Good morning," the man replied, his voice so close it made goosebumps on Cloud's forearms. It was so low, vibrant, like the purr of a wildcat. As dangerous as it was intriguing.

"Good morning," Cloud said, looking straight into Sephiroth's eyes. He had no idea if it was just him, or if something decidedly nonhuman was shining in them. He gave the blond a look, returning after a second to his eyes. Even if he recognized the stare from the lecture, he didn't make it known in any way. Cloud first looked away, slamming it into the wall next door, as if he had noticed something wildly interesting about it.

„“Take your seats, we’re about to begin,” the man invited them, and there was a note of amusement  in his voice.

Aerith pulled Cloud into the middle row and while she greeted the people next to and behind her, the boy tried to sneak a sneak peek at Sephiroth. The man was even taller than Cloud expected, the blond reaching only to his chin. Up close, his fluid movements took on the sharp, determined notes of someone confident and aware of his skills. The blond tried to match the kind of weapon he could use, but he suspected it wouldn’t be similar to what he knew and what Zack was fighting. It was too sophisticated, too subtle, too ...

“We’ve got everyone, so let’s start...”

The voice of the anchor pulled him out of thought. He looked at his face and saw that he had been caught staring again. A significant grin formed in the corners of the silver-haired man's mouth, which ignited shame in his gut. He immediately pretended it was just an accident and reached into his bag for his notebook and pen.

Sephiroth read the attendance list, and when he was done, a small wrinkle appeared between his eyebrows.

"We have one person too many," he remarked, and his eyes immediately drifted toward Cloud. The boy felt warmth on his cheeks, but tried to keep a dispassionate facial expression. He'd probably had some Aerith class in previous semesters, so he might have been the only face he didn't associate with. He raised his hand.

"I'm extra," he said, lowering his hand. "I've come to additional faculty" he explained, to which a man's eyebrow went up.

“Have you been told that you don’t have to take part in practice exercises?” the silver-haired man asked, leaning against his desk with his hips in a casual pose.

„“Yes,” Cloud replied briefly.

“And yet here you are,” he said quietly, as if he knew Cloud’s real reason for being in this class.

The blond didn't answer, but he looked straight into the teacher's eyes. He still felt strangely stripped of his privacy under the piercing gaze that seemed to permeate all the facades that Cloud tried to put on himself, but he managed to calm himself down enough to maintain appearances in front of others. He couldn't show his weakness, or his awkward side, in front of so many strangers. In fact, only Zack and maybe Tifa knew what kind of person Cloud really was. How much insecurity, shyness, sadness and pain he carried inside him.

“Stay a moment after class,” said Sephiroth at last, when Cloud gave no answer, only staring at him with stubborn eyes the color of a mountain lake.

The man took a small pilot from his desk, fired a projector over the heads of the students, and behind his back appeared a presentation.

"We have begun to discuss the system of motion in the lecture, and we will continue to focus on its individual components. First, we will discuss the system of passive motion – the systema sceleti juncturae ossium - to put it simply for those who were not paying attention to the lecture, the skeleton,"" he said, the last part of the sentence speaking with a snack, in such a way that Cloud felt a shiver of anxiety on his back. Did he get the impression that the man was talking about him? He tried not to overinterpret what was coming out of the elder's mouth, but when for a moment their eyes met in the sight and the arrangement of the elder's, he saw the same amusement he had seen in the lecture. He felt hot with shame, so he began to write down in his notebook what was on the slide, just to not look in his direction.

Sephiroth continued the classes as if nothing had ever been done, starting discussing with them "something easy to start," as he put it, namely the collarbone and scapulas. First, he explained what they were made of, what surfaces they were made up of, and what the joint surfaces were connected to. He ordered them to reach into the boxes and pick out the collarbone from them. He then explained how to tell if they had a right or left in their hands.

Cloud caught the fact that he was listening with clear interest, turning the coarse bone in his fingers. It was dry and rough, with a smooth surface that was part of the joint. He thought it would make him more disgusted, but it wasn't bad. And it wasn't at all because of the deep voice of Sephiroth, which simply couldn't be ignored. He spoke in such a way that he was incredibly charismatic and bossy, ruling the room in a way that made him king for a moment. Cloud couldn't contain the sense of admiration he felt toward this man, even if he sometimes hurled biting comments at students who answered his questions insufficiently correctly. What he noticed, however, was that even if he wasn't easy  to impress, the first person who managed to correctly identify the side of the collarbone sent a gentle smile of approval. Cloud felt a little jealous, and he would have liked Sephiroth to notice and praise him, if only in a word-sparing way.

When he realized what he was thinking, he shook his head in embarrassment and returned to his bone. He listened, but the identification wasn't that simple. He had to first guess which surface was the top and which was the bottom, and then which of the ends was headed toward the center. He turned it to all sides and tried to compare it to himself, but he still felt he was doing it incorrectly.

"Do you have a problem?" he heard a low, silky smooth murmur right next to him. He looked toward the voice, raising his head to the Sephiroth towering above him.

He felt uncomfortable sitting below the man's chest, but as he leaned toward him, and his silver hair swept across the bench, he felt as if his heart had been too shocked by what had happened. The man's handsome face was so close, and Cloud could see that his complexion was smooth and natural. His perfect cheekbones and jaw so sharp that it could cut through any careless person who touched him. And then there were those eyes, glowing with green, that were even more extraordinary. He could smell his perfume - a tree of sandalwood and black pepper. The sensual, deep aroma suited him perfectly, making Cloud want to get even closer and see if there was something else lurking beneath that scent. It was the first time he felt something like that.

"Now do you understand?" the man asked, and only then did the boy realize that he was talking to him. He was so focused on being close and that white reflections from the light coming through the windows could be seen in his silver bands, that he completely switched off his hearing.

"Ummm... uhmmmm... Yes," he replied, feeling red in his face, and when Sephiroth didn't leave he just waited for Cloud to correctly identify his collarbone, he felt even more embarrassed.

“Right?” he dropped after a moment of feverishly searching for clues in the rough surface, only to finally count on a stroke of luck.

“You are guessing or you know?” the man asked him, clasping his hands on his chest and giving him a firm look.

"I guess," he grumbled, feeling he couldn't lie when he looked at him that way. As if he knew. So why lie?

"Wrong," he said with a clear amusment in his voice. Cloud felt more shame. He clenched his lips and lowered his head. He felt defeated, though he had no idea what game he was in.

After the collarbone, they moved on to the scapular bone, and these were much easier to determine. Except that at that point, Sephiroth began asking questions referring to what they had learned in the lecture. Not all of them came to him. He could not have been so obvious in his choice of victim, but he tried to answer a few anyway. Each time, however, it turned out that he did not remember or had got something wrong. The man looked at him as if his discomfort and the feverish search for answers in his head had greatly amused him.

Eventually, however, the man announced the end of the class, and although Cloud was to be alone with him for a while, he felt a little more confident, having at least some certainty that he would not laugh any more with questions from the material he had not learned.

"So you decided to come to my class..." the man began, waving his hand at him, telling him to come closer to the desk, against which he again leaned his hips. His posture was relaxed, and his voice, though amused, did not carry with it a clear threat or mockery. So he tried to breathe a little deeper.

"Yes, professor," he said, looking at him with a shyness lurking somewhere in him. Sephiroth looked at him with moderate interest and a smile lifting the corners of his mouth.

"You don't have to call me that, I'm not a professor yet," he said gently, and his attitude suddenly made the blond man feel more ... at ease. Maybe he didn't mean to... in fact, he forgot what he actually thought Sephiroth might want to do with him.

"What's your name?" he asked him after a moment, and Cloud felt completely detached from reality. His idol (?) was about to know his name.

"Cloud," he said, as if his name didn't matter at all. "Cloud Strife" added after he cringed at the thought of introducing himself correctly.

"What are you studying, Cloud?" the silver-haired man asked, pronouncing the blonde's name as if he wanted to feel its weight and taste on his tongue. The boy shuddered having no idea what was actually going on with him, but the fact that his name was pronounced in that way, in that voice, must have made him feel something.

"Logistics," he replied, feeling uncomfortable with how it sounded. What was he actually doing here?

"And you've just chosen anatomy as an additional subject. Fascinating," the man muttered, not taking his eyes off Cloud's face. The blond first looked away. He heard a quiet amused sound that was a prelude to laughter lurking in the gray-haired man's throat. But he was not tempted to look at him.

"Well, that's fine. I wanted to tell you to deliberate" he finally got to the point, noting that the younger man wasn't one of those talkative. "If you decide to come to the next class, I'm not going to give you a discount rate regardless of whether anatomy is in your area of interest or not," he said.”I expect full commitment. If you want to pass the exam, you're going to have to take all the exercise tests . Not to mention that you should come to my class prepared, not with your head in the clouds," he said, and although he didn't sound angry at all, Cloud felt he should have spoken.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, looking down at his shoes.

He heard a low, throaty laugh that, as soon as it began, ended so quickly, leaving him confused.

“This time it’s just a warning,” he said, and Cloud felt he didn’t want to know what would happen if he really managed to upset him.

“Thank you,” he replied, feeling extremely stupid, but he didn’t know what else to say.

"All right," muttered the man amused by the delightfully honest and awkward boy in front of him. He wanted to tease him, but he was afraid that doing so would scare him away and that he would not show up for the next class. So he spared him this time.

“That’s it, you’re free to go,” he said, and Cloud immediately took advantage of the opportunity and, muttering his goodbyes, practically ran out of the room.

He leaned against the wall, glad that Aerith had apparently decided to wait for him outside the building. His heart was beating like crazy, and his breath was breaking. He had just spoken to Sephiroth. And he had got the green light from him to come and see him so close next week, and then again and again, until the end of the semester. He was a little terrified, a little more excited, but most of all he felt he was fooling himself and had no idea why.

Chapter Text

Rude had a date. How else could his conversation with a pretty medical student and his earlier departure from the patrol be explained? Tseng remained silent like a stone, no matter how persistent Reno was. So, yeah, it was definitely a date.

Reno should not be surprised. After all, Rude with his stupid bald head and stupid handsome face with masculine features, a straight nose, a short beard, and the most beautiful eyes that he hid behind sunglasses, could not go through life unnoticed by women. Tall, with broad shoulders that filled out the uniform jacket, large, warm hands hidden beneath leather gloves, and darker skin that evoked the warm, sun-kissed cities of Costa del Sol.  If only he had a nasty character, but no! Of course, he had to be the quintessential gentleman, rescuing abandoned kittens from the streets and calling his mother at every opportunity. If that wasn't enough, Rude had a dark side that he showed when he needed to push someone to the wall, force some testimony out of them, or shoot someone in the middle of the forehead. One hundred percent sex, zero percent softness.

Reno, on the other hand, was the opposite. He was also quite tall, but not in that particular, intimidating way that Rude was. Rather like spaghetti – long, flexible, and slipping through the holes of the colander. He had long, fiery red hair that reached past his buttocks (those were fantastic too, but they have to wait their turn), cut short at the top in a careless mullet, and with a widow's peak, which was held back from falling into his eyes by aviator goggles. His face was sharp, with angular features and piercing green eyes. Their color was accentuated by ruby tattoos placed high on the cheekbones in the shape of crescents. A satisfied smile was always visible on his thin lips. His body wasn’t as well-built as Rude’s, but he had nothing to be ashamed of. He was muscular exactly as he needed to be. Not unreasonably, with a nicely sculpted figure, a narrow waist, and an incredible ass emphasized by the trousers of his uniform.

Yes, women (and men) were attracted to him, because let's face it, who wouldn't be, but for some reason (it wasn't because of his terrible personality) they never took him seriously or as a dating option. It couldn't have been caused by his unfiltered, barking, loud mouth, always ready with a cutting remark and an impudent answer. It couldn’t have been due to his impulsiveness, lack of patience, and hyperactivity, which led him to get into more and more trouble.

Reno attracted people even though he was a gremlin. But there was one person whose attention he wanted (He? What? No way! Pfy!) who never looked at him differently than as a friend. He and Rude met about four years ago. Reno got a suspicious invitation to meet someone named Veld. His instincts told him that something was off, but he happily let himself get maneuvered into something that changed his life forever.

The Turk project, as it later turned out, was a special training program created by Shinra right next to the SOLDIER project. But while the latter was meant to encourage others to take up the hero's calling and provide people with a sense of security, the Turk project was created for Shinra's exclusive interests. Of course, both were sponsored by the corporation, and after graduation, you were supposed to work for the company, but the concepts differed significantly.

The SOLDIER project focused on shaping soldiers. Loyal, selfless, enthusiastic young men who wanted to make a name for themselves as heroes in the world. Their training was based on building endurance, strength, and skills needed for combat. Training with weapons, using materia, survival. The days were filled with hard work and self-improvement.

The Turk project was different. His first rule was "don't talk about the project." It couldn't be written to. Candidates were chosen from among students based on their predispositions, intelligence, and potential. Before anything was told to them, they signed a confidentiality agreement. It was only then that Veld, the head of the General Affairs Department – the official name of the unit where the Turks worked – would appear and present the candidates with an offer they couldn't refuse. They were supposed to work for Shinra, but even though the department had the most boring name Reno could think of, the job didn't sound boring at all. Everyone knew that Shinra shook Midgard and was a power to be reckoned with. Half of the influence and silent pressure came from the Turks. Those not killed by SOLDIERS in the light of glory and with the general support of society were killed by the Turks. Special agents, bodyguards, spies, detectives… paid assassins. By stealth and force, they extracted information, money, and obedience.

When Reno first heard about the project, he had doubts. Being Shinra’s loyal dog? It didn't sound like the fulfillment of his dreams, especially since the training, missions, and everything else that came with it was supposed to remain discreet and in line with the study. And then Reno saw how much he would earn. Of course, as a student and a newcomer, he was supposed to earn less than a full-fledged Turk, but it was still more than he could have imagined. That's why he agreed, and soon found out that it was the best decision of his life. He received an apartment in Shinra's headquarters, a gold credit card, and a partner.

When he met Rude, he thought there was no way they would get along. Rude was a year older, studied physiotherapy, and was stiff as hell. He also wore his sunglasses everywhere, and Reno never knew what was going on in his head. And then he kicked his butt.

Their first joint training session did not end well. Reno had no basis, only his reflexes and speed of action, but it was not enough to defeat someone with an older attitude and who had undergone rigorous training for a year, which taught him to use his muscles for fighting. Moreover, Rude was wise and patient, he utilized Reno's impulsiveness to his advantage and defeated him by pinning him to the ground for a good five minutes before Tseng, another elder Turk, ordered him to release him. Reno felt humiliated and weak. And when Rude came to apologize and offered him a drink, he felt even worse because he couldn't refuse him, even though he seemed so dull and uninteresting. However, he was hot, so Reno agreed.

That night, it turned out that Rude was the most interesting person in the world. He was funny and ordered Reno every drink with a weird name he wanted. He didn't let him win at darts, or later at billiards, although the redhead suspected it was because of their earlier fight. He knew old songs and the worst pickup lines, and he was so charmingly gentle. He didn't seem to be irritated by Reno's verbosity or discouraged by the redhead's lively gestures. He listened to him, and when he managed to raise the corners of his mouth into a smile for the first time, he was so proud of himself that he swore to himself that he would make Rude smile at him all the time.

They quickly became almost inseparable, even though they both had a lot of studying and work to do. Rude for his master's thesis in physiotherapy and Reno for his engineering thesis in electrical engineering. Together they ate their lunches, together they went on patrols, together they annoyed Tseng, the chairman of the project at the university level, and there was only one thing that Reno quickly noticed and that made his heart feel uncomfortable at times. Rude was one hundred percent heterosexual and had no interest in Reno in any but a platonic sense. At first, the redhead convinced himself that it was nothing and that he didn't have to be the type of everyone (Bullshit, because he was the type of everyone, after all, he was the most handsome person in the world!), but the longer he knew the man, the more it hurt his ego.

So yeah, when Rude had a date, it was Reno's problem.

"If it bothers you so much, why don't you invite him somewhere?" asked Tifa, the coolest and prettiest bartender at Seven Heaven, where Reno liked to hang out on nights like this.

She was short, but not at all petite, with a round, pleasant face, large, dark eyes, and a sweet smile. She had long, black hair and the biggest tits Reno had ever seen. The white crop top emphasized them in a meaningful way, and the short skirt showed a bit too much of the girl's muscular legs. She was hot, and Reno tried to hit on her as soon as he saw her, but she quickly sent him off, thanks to some twink blond guy with a kid's face who had his stuff taken away. Since then, Reno felt obligated to unbutton another button of his white shirt while in her presence, to show the world that he had the better chest of the two.

Still, Tifa was a good bartender. She could get as much information from drunk customers as Reno could with his mag rod and madman smile. He had to be careful not to say something careless about his work, but he still had the feeling that she was perfectly aware of who he and Rude were. It definitely had nothing to do with the uniform – the black suit, shirts, and leather gloves. Reno wore his shirt and jacket unbuttoned to the third button, which was absolutely unacceptable, so that there was no doubt about how nice his chest muscles were. His gloves didn't have fingers. He and Rude stood out from the crowd of ordinary people. They looked like agents, fought like agents, and were mysterious like agents. The only thing that wasn't entirely clear was who they were working for. At least that's what the theory said.

“Eww... no?” Reno snorted, taking another shot of tequila. He knew he would regret it tomorrow, but he was depressed and needed alcohol.

"Why not?" Tifa asked, laughing, and pouring him another shot.

"Well, first of all, Rude is straight, secondly, I'm not desperate (lie), and thirdly, I don't want to date anyone (another lie)," he said, counting on his fingers. “Besides, it's just my ego, I can't understand how Rude can't be interested in this," he added, pointing at himself. Tifa giggled.

“Maybe he's not interested in a one-time night with you? Rude seems like a romantic” she suggested, stirring a drink for someone else. There was a bar stool between Reno and the next person. The red-haired man spun around like a horsefly in a glass, posing a threat to the glass in his immediate vicinity.

“Of course, he's a romantic! Damn sweetie! But that doesn't mean he isn't interested in one-night stands. We'd often pick up a girls together, and take them to the hotel. And you know what?! I've NEVER seen him naked, even though he was fucking chicks right next to me! You know how frustrating it is to still not know how big he is, even though there are legends about it?!” he complained, gesticulating wildly and throwing his arms up in frustration.

Tifa looked at him with amusement.

"Don't boys like to brag and compare themselves?" she asked, emphasizing the word "boys," but Reno didn't seem to pay the slightest attention.

“No, not Rude. He is such a... “ he began with a dissatisfied growl. “Such vanilla and prudish. He never tells spicy stories or what he did with whom, what he likes, blah, blah, blah. And ask him, he change the subject, or will remain silent until you are fed up and ask about something else “ he continued, twirling an empty (when did this happen?) glass in his fingers.

“Maybe he doesn't like to share his intimate life. For some, it was important, Reno” she noted, speaking in a tone as if she knew something that the redhead did not. However, he was too drunk to notice the hint of sympathy in her voice.

Reno's leg tapped impatiently.

“I don't know what to be ashamed of, even if it's important to him. I'm his best friend!” for crying out loud, he muttered, offering her the glass again.

Tifa filled him up with a look that said Reno wasn't noticing something, but she wasn't his friend to point out what he should be looking at. Reno drank, scowled, and then, knowing he had gone too far, got up from his stool. He felt dizzy. He handed the girl his card (almost pulling out Shinra’s quarters access card) and waited for her to tally him up. He knew she was taking more than she should, but as long as he could come here, complain, and the corporation paid for it, he didn't mind.

"A safe journey home," she said, handing him the card. For a moment, she held it together with Reno, as if she wanted to say more, but ultimately didn't, just smiling goodbye.

Reno ordered a taxi. In that state, it was better not to take the train to sector one. Someone else would have to provoke him, and he, drunk, would have broken someone's arm. Not worth the trouble. He fell asleep in the car, drooling a bit on the window, so the driver threw him out of the car rather roughly. He greeted Jeny, the doorman, and went up to his floor, barely holding on to his legs. He dropped the apartment keys three times before he could finally insert them into the lock. He didn't wash, he didn't change, he just fell on the bed and fell asleep almost in mid-air, before his head even touched the pillow.

When Reno woke up the next morning, he felt like something crawled into his mouth and then died there, leaving a nasty taste and a dryness that was so bad it was the only thing that could get him to stand up at that moment. He almost immediately realized that it was a mistake. A little harsh heavy metal band started playing in his head and had no intention of ending the concert anytime soon. It was pounding in his head and behind his eyes, in a way that made his vision blur in the corners of his eyes. That, plus the body aches, but the only thing he was fighting was his own ego and intrusive thoughts. And he smelled.

His phone rang with a notification, and then it died with zero battery level. Reno wanted to identify with it, but he couldn't just fall back onto the bed and go to sleep. They had a weekly meeting, which he was probably late for, and then important lessons. Perhaps he can call Shinra's doctor and pretend to be sick... He was tempted, but as soon as he thought about the hospital floor in the headquarters, he got out of bed without delay. He didn't like that place. He always felt that he had entered a very dangerous area, where one careless move could lead him straight to Hojo's laboratory. And you didn't come out the same from there...

Therefore, even though he felt like his brain could explode at any moment, like his stomach and his insides in general, he went to take a bath. He almost drank all the water from the tap before he got into the shower stall, which caused a dangerous gurgling sound from his stomach, but at least the terrible feeling in his mouth eased a bit. Then he brushed his teeth – twice, just to be sure, and when he finally managed to leave the bathroom, he found his work phone, which he had been careful to keep charged, and saw a message from Rude.

"Where are you?"

And then:

"Are you alive?" sent about ten minutes earlier.

He looked at the time and cursed. He missed the meeting, and Tseng, their boss who works under the boss of all Turks, was going to give him a hard time for sure. Tseng was at least three years older than them, but he studied management with Rufus Shinra (yes, that Shinra!). The rumor (which Reno himself started) was that it was because Tseng was Rufus's personal bodyguard. And his lover – but when Reno once mentioned it in jest to him, he received such a look that he never dared to say it out loud again. But he knew his stuff! Tseng already had a degree, because every Turk had to have a higher education, but it didn't seem to bother him at all to enjoy student life with Rufus. Or at least that would be the case if he weren't such a damned bureaucrat.

Everyone knew he would be Veld's successor. There was no one else who was more suited for this than him. He was calm, always composed, professional to a fault, and devilishly intelligent. And most importantly, he enjoyed the trust of the younger generation. Reno could bark at him all he wanted, but he still did his best to meet Tseng's expectations. Of course, there were times when he handled it exceptionally poorly (like now) and was the cause of the man's headache more than once, but hey! He tried his best. And then he had Rude to smooth ruffled feathers.

"I'm dying," he replied after finally getting dressed (twice putting the buttons in the wrong holes) and still feeling like a piece of shit - he left the apartment.

The world outside was definitely too bright, and Reno was cursing himself for not bringing his sunglasses. He didn't even try to look for painkillers for his headache, because he knew he wouldn't find any. Who would keep such things?! (Rude, but he had a whole first-aid kit at home just in case.) Reno dreamed of coffee, but was afraid that his stomach would protest if he tried to pour or push anything into it. Therefore, he suffered in silence, grimacing at the too loud sounds of his surroundings. Why did the elevator's "ding" have to be so loud? And why couldn't all those people just shut up?

Red-haired, as soon as he managed to secure a spot on the train (after he threw a nasty old woman off and shut the mouth of an outraged citizen with a well-timed punch to the stomach), he covered his face with an electrical engineering textbook. Had it not been for the fact that the instructor checked attendance and treated each absence as a personal offense, Reno would have stayed home.

Upon arriving at the university, he cursed everything he could. The sun, the loud students, the sound of footsteps on the floors, the creaking of doors, the birds chirping too joyfully, the smell of food from the buffet on the floor... However, he kept telling himself that it was only two hours and that he would be able to hide somewhere in solitude and wait for Rude.

He had no idea how he did it, but he always knew where to find him. No matter how ridiculous a place Reno was to choose to see if he could do it. When he saw the tip of his bald head peeking out from a corner or from behind the object he was hiding, he felt a warmth in his heart. He felt... important. Therefore, the thought that he would ruin it for the sake of boosting his ego if he were to seduce Rude, made him always hold back. Rude was too important to him to lose. He was the only person who put up with all his antics, laughed at his jokes, and got herself into trouble with him just to get him out of it. He would not forgive himself if he were to ruin it.

That day, he chose a gazebo behind the medical department as his hiding place. Hidden from the students' view behind trees and under a layer of ivy. It was relatively dark there, despite the unpleasant sunbeams that pierced through the leaves, and quiet, as it was far from the frequented paths. Reno threw his bag onto the table, removed his shoes and socks, and then collapsed onto the bench, hiding his face under the textbook. The appearance of Rude was only a matter of time.

Chapter Text

Rude found him in this state almost an hour later. He carried a paper bag under his arm and a cup of coffee in his hand – black, no milk or sugar, not a popular choice for Reno, but when he had a hangover, it was better not to pour something more sophisticated into him. It was clear that he had a hangover when Rude didn't meet him on his way to the meeting in the morning. Yes, he liked to annoy Tseng, but Wednesday was a holy day. The meeting, Reno's favorite activity, which he always complained about and claimed he only attended because the instructor was demanding, the lecture and the subsequent exercises. A day spent at the university, away from Rude, is why their morning meeting was their little ritual. There was only one time when Reno interrupted him – when he had a hangover.

The man put down the bag and the cup, gathering the things that had spilled out of the redhead's bag. Sometimes he was so careless that it was frightening, and it made the older man feel that he had to take care of him. It wasn’t that he had anything against it, but he wasn’t sure if Reno wanted to be taken care of.

He looked at him and almost immediately had to turn away his gaze so as not to do something stupid. The man's shirt was more open than usual, revealing a pink dot of his nipple to the world. Below, the pant legs of the uniform rolled up, revealing Reno's slender ankles. In general, in Rude's opinion, Reno was all slender in that ephemeral way that brings to mind an elf (even if he was a gremlin). His sharp facial features, green eyes, and long, graceful body movements that betrayed a person who was aware of their own physique. Rude sometimes caught himself looking for pointed ears in his hair. A human being couldn't possibly be as beautiful as Reno.

It's just a shame that Reno was straight.

“Tseng wasn't happy that you weren't there” he said finally, aware that even if the redhead had fallen asleep, he would wake up as soon as the Rude got any closer. Instinct and training did crazy things to people.

He heard a dissatisfied growl from under the textbook, which caused the corner of his mouth to twitch. Even that Reno was just charming.

"I told him you had a consultation on some ultra important subject," he added after a moment, sitting down at the feet of the younger one. Was it strange that he wanted to put them on his thighs?

The manual shifted, revealing eyes that were squinting in pain, the color of spring grass.

"Did he believe it?" Reno asked in a skeptical tone.

"Nope" Rude snorted, reaching into the bag he had brought to pull out a bottle of water and some painkillers. He also had electrolytes to dissolve in what was left after drinking the medication. And a sandwich – with scrambled egg and bacon, Reno's favorite.

The redhead snorted, but looked at Rude with gratitude.

"Thanks, partner" he said, not specifying whether he meant the lie that had failed or the concern he had shown and all the good things Rude had brought. Most likely, it was all at once.

Rude just nodded his head, as if saying there was nothing to thank for, and then reached out his hand towards the intoxicated Reno. He had to bring him to a state of apparent usefulness before he dropped the bomb on him. The man accepted the offered help, and then groaned in pain when Rude helped him sit up. The world before his eyes spun, and he needed a moment before the heavy metal concert in his head slowed down a bit. Rude uncorked a bottle for him.

“Was it worth it, anyway?” he asked, because, well, most of the time when Reno was in that state, Rude would die next to him with the same hangover.

“Oh, yeah! I tell you, Rude, that girl was divine! She did things with her mouth...” he said, sending him a stupid smile. He wasn't entirely lying. Tifa was divine, and her mouth did things that most people didn't dare do to Reno. She told him the truth he didn't want to hear.

Rude smiled with one corner of his mouth, but Reno couldn't see his eyes, so he couldn't tell that they were sad behind his sunglasses. He handed him a bottle and slipped two tablets onto the redhead's outstretched hand. He watched to see if he swallowed it obediently and drank the right amount of water, and only then did he give him the sandwich.

"You're the best," Reno said, taking a deep breath and biting into the bun. Rude often regretted that Reno couldn't eat without making sounds of pleasure. He thanked Shiva for the darker complexion that hid what was happening to his face. Maybe he was crazy for thinking Reno's behavior as if he never had anything in his mouth was absolutely adorable, but he worked for Shinra—he couldn't be completely normal.

The well-fed redhead got his hands on the coffee, and although it wasn’t the cream and vanilla syrup he dreamed of, it was hot and wonderful because it was free and from Rude.

"Okay," Reno sighed, finally knowing that he was just prolonging the inevitable. "What do you have for me?" he asked, bracing himself for the worst. Tseng didn't like it when Reno didn't fulfill his duties, and aside from today's mishap, he was certain that he had somehow managed to annoy his superior over the past week.

“You won't like it” Rude sighed, catching Reno's gaze over the frames of his glasses before he adjusted them to his nose.

“It can't be that bad, Tseng loves me” he said with certainty, but after the silence that followed his words, he was no longer so sure.

"Ykhm" said Rude, clearing his throat and gazing off into the distance. “ In the morning, Vled's department received a message from one of their informants. He was supposed to meet someone from the company and hand over some important package. Before the meeting, the informant was lured into a trap. He managed to throw the package before they caught him... to the garbage chute” He said with a flat countenance, looking at Reno again to see his expression fade.

"I have to dive into the trash?" he asked incredulously, staring at Rude. It wasn’t the first time, but then the trash was more conventional and in the form of people. And then he didn't have a hangover, and strong smells didn't make his stomach rise up to his throat.

“Just say it's in a nice neighborhood” he said, with a resigned expression, although the gears in his brain were already working on how to make sure Tseng wouldn't have the last word.

“Hmmm” Rude grumbled and didn't really need to say anything else.

"Fuck," the red-haired man cursed, running his hand over his face.

"How much time do I have?" he knocked again, hoping he could at least survive the worst part.

"The removal is tomorrow" Rude replied with a detached expression, not even trying to comfort Reno. It would only make him more angry. And let's agree that he knew better than others that the younger one deserved all the punishments Tseng came up with for him.

"Fantastic," Reno snorted, biting his cheek from the inside. “This is exactly what I wanted since Wednesday afternoon. A date with a trash can in the company of rats.” His sour tone suggested that the rest of the week was going to be just as disappointing.

"You won't be alone with the rats," Rude said gently.

"Of course, there will still be cockroaches," the red-haired man said, raising his eyebrows.

"I'm going with you, Reno," Rude said in a tone as if he was wondering how a man could be so unthinking at times.

"Why? I thought it was a punishment for me," he asked, looking at him questioningly.

Rude shrugged.

“Tseng thought I was your accomplice and that I was guilty of giving false testimony, so I might as well go with you” he said indifferently, as if it didn't make any difference to him. He could do worse things for Reno.

"Great," the redhead said sarcastically, reaching for his shoes. "There's no point in waiting, let's go as fast as we can," he offered, tying his shoelaces.

"Don't you want to change clothes?" Rude asked again, but noticed Reno's sly smile.

“ Nah, I won't ruin my own clothes. Let Shinra pay for the new uniform,” he said, standing up from the bench. His movements became more lively, so the medication started to work.

Rude merely nodded in understanding, then, without saying a word, he began to pick up the trash Reno had left behind. He felt that they were in for a long day.

Their search, as Reno learned when they rode the train to sector eight, was for a package the size of a shoebox, wrapped in white and red tape. According to Rude, who got the information from Tseng, it was impossible to miss. Hearing about Sector eight, Reno was not surprised, but that didn't mean he was any less displeased. Rude watched him from behind the lenses of his dark glasses, trying to ignore the voice in his head that told him to count the freckles on the redhead's nose. They were delicate, and if you didn't know about them, you might miss them.

Rude often wondered what it was about Reno that made him think about bridging the distance between them and kissing his puffed-out, insulted lips. He had never had such desires for another man before. He liked women, or at least he thought he did until a red-haired typhoon burst into his life and claimed a place of honor. At first, it was innocent stuff. The color of Reno's eyes, the softness of his hair, the way he looked in everyday clothes. It wasn't until later that he noticed that he had stared too long at the redhead's exposed breast, or at the way the suit trousers hugged his buttocks. He noticed that when he smiled genuinely, he could see the pointed tips of his fangs. And that he thought it was super cute.

At first, it was easy to ignore these feelings. Telling themselves that they meant nothing. After all, Reno was a very attractive man, and even someone with the average sexuality of a Gaian citizen could say something so obvious. The problem started one evening when both of them were so drunk that they couldn't remember their names and ended up on Rude's couch together. One fell asleep with one leg dangling over the headrest, the other with a mouth full of red hair. When Rude woke up with Reno crushed on his chest and drooling on his shirt, he got excited like probably never in his whole life. He had to quickly remove the redhead from his body and then just as quickly lock himself in the bathroom. He tried to calm himself down, telling himself that Reno was his colleague, partner, and best friend, but nothing helped. His penis stubbornly remained hard as a rock, and the mere thought of the redhead made him pulse with excitement.

That morning, Rude didn't leave the bathroom for a long time, and when he finally did, he thought that it wouldn't take a minute before he had to go back there in an instant. Reno, with his unkempt hair and unbuttoned shirt, was making coffee for him. It was nothing unusual, if it weren't for the fact that the man had nothing on besides the aforementioned shirt (well, maybe boxer shorts, but the shirt was so long that it covered them). That's when Rude lost his mind and control over his body, which took him almost a year to recover from, and even then, sometimes his brain and penis would switch places, threatening an accidental boner in the middle of an ultra-important task. Totally unprofessional.

Rude wanted to end it. He wanted to find a girlfriend and transfer the feelings he had for Reno to her, but he couldn't. They were always... a little too much and a little too little. They weren't Reno. They didn't have his courage bordering on stupidity, his sharp tongue that could be the sweetest in the world at times. They didn't have his unlimited loyalty and that stupid smile that made Rude's heart palpitate. So he finally stopped, silently hating the women Reno took to bed and himself for those feelings. And that's how it went.

“Hey, Rude, do you think I could just take this dickhead's cigarettes?”

Reno's voice, too harsh for others, was the most wonderful music to him, and it broke his reverie. He followed the redhead's gaze, pretending to be still thinking about the same thing, to see a bantling with his nose stuck in the screen of his phone and a pack of cigarettes sticking out of the pocket of his sweatshirt.

In response, Rude shrugged his shoulders, as if saying "do what you want," and the green eyes flashed with a spark of mischief that circulated in his veins just like the sweetened coffee, cheap beer, and love for dangerous, electrical objects. He smiled, telling him he would be back soon, then casually walked past the boy, pretending to check the name of the next stop on the train's board. As he returned, his hand moved so quickly that even Rude, knowing what to look for, didn't notice when it slipped out and grabbed the paper card.

Before getting off the train, the boy patted his pocket and when he realized it was empty, he frantically searched the rest of his clothing and surroundings. Jumping off the train, Reno whistled, getting the attention of the other man, and when their eyes met, the redhead waved him a stolen package.

“Son of a…” began the angry boy, but before he could move towards the Turks, the train doors slammed shut and the train continued on its way.

Reno gave a nasty laugh with satisfaction, reaching for cigarette.

"Want one?" he asked Rude, who didn't refuse, immediately taking out a lighter to light a cigarette for himself and Reno.

“So? Where now?” the redhead asked, taking a satisfying drag on his cigarette, even though it was one of the cheapest and tasted even worse than it smelled.

“To warehouses 108 and 110” He replied, his eyes scanning the suspicious individuals milling about the train station.

The eighth sector, especially the warehouse part, was one of the most dangerous places in Midgar if you didn't know which streets and people to avoid. However, this applied to ordinary citizens, to whom Reno and Rude did not belong. Rude adjust leather gloves on his hands, which squeaked dangerously under his strong fingers, and Reno took out and spread his EMR with a satisfied smile, placing it provocatively on his arm. The gaze of people interested in expensive-looking clothes immediately found itself everywhere but on this distinctive pair.

"I thought so," Reno snorted, but he still didn't put his weapon away in case someone decided to do something stupid.

Rude didn't say anything, and led Reno between the buildings, where there was much less sunlight. The atmosphere of this place was different from the rest of the city. It was usually quiet there, and only the places where the goods were being unloaded were noisy. The rest of the region was silent. It looked like a dead city that had been left motionless for too long. Tall buildings stretched along narrow streets, interspersed with stacked container skyscrapers. Most of it was covered in graffiti with slogans against Shinra, which made Reno smile derisively. Rude heard the murmur of conversation and the sound of footsteps, but he knew that no one would dare to bother them.

Finally, they found themselves in the right place, under the barracks that looked like a residential area for people working nearby. This would explain why the informant used the trash chute in such a place.

"Ugh… let's get this over with," Reno muttered, tucking his mag rod away so nothing would happen to it.

Rude led him to the back of the building, where there was a door to the room where the trash was unloaded. It was enough for the heavy doors to open slightly, and the men's nostrils were hit by the musty smell. Reno stepped back, his face turning green. He had to rest his hands on his knees and bend over to control his stomach's violent reaction.

“Fuck... on of all days...” he groaned, feeling Rude's sandwich had slipped back dangerously.

“Just to clarify, I'm not going in there alone” Rude said, feeling no regret or sympathy for the redhead. It was his fault that they were in this place.

"And someone's asking you?" Reno snorted, giving him a disgruntled look. "I just need to collect the chakra," he added more calmly, breathing deeply through his nose and mouth, not yet so heavily burdened by the noxious air.

"Pick it up faster," the elder replied, reaching into his pocket to pull out the earplugs he had inserted into his nose.

“Say you have two pairs” he heard Reno's almost pleading voice. Almost, because he was too proud to actually ask for something out loud.

“No” he replied, and Reno quickly positioned himself next to him to attack his chest with his index finger.

“And you call yourself my friend and partner, dickhead? I retract what I said, you're the worst, don't talk to me anymore," he said furiously, finally saving for himself an especially juicy jab that was sure to leave a mark, and then, with his head held high, he lit his pocket flashlight and entered the room.

He didn't say anything again, but Rude didn't worry too much about it. He gave him a maximum of ten minutes. Reno couldn't sit quietly and not talk, which was one of the things Rude liked about him. Reno didn't hold grudges for long, even if it meant that he would have to give someone a beating for an insult, he preferred to settle such things right away and talk the next day as if nothing had happened.

Rude followed him.

Stupid Rude and stupid Tseng with a stick up their asses and empathy for another person at the level of a single-celled amoeba. They both acted as if they never had a hangover and as if it was Reno's fault that he felt like crap (of course, it was his fault, you shouldn't drink on Tuesday night, but let the first one who hasn't done that throw a stone!).

He tried not to breathe through his nose as he waded through the unpleasant layer in search of the central dump site, where the package was most likely to be, but this only made his tongue feel extremely sour and disgusting. He pretended not to feel it, or tried to convince himself that the taste he woke up with that morning was much worse, but he wasn't necessarily able to deceive himself that way.

He heard scuffling behind him, but he didn’t turn around to see Rude with the same flashlight, making his way through the piles of something that was medium-sized and difficult to identify. Reno went right, scanning the piles of clothes and torn bags from which guts were spilling. He wouldn't be surprised if he found a corpse here. It would be something definitely more interesting than a shoebox, and he could make and send a picture to Tseng. Of course, he had seen worse things in his life, but hey, it was worth trying!

"FUCK" he exclaimed when he stepped on something extremely wet and slippery, losing his balance for a moment and feeling something pour through the top of his shoe, soaking his socks. He didn’t look down or in the direction of Rude, even though he felt his gaze in the darkness. He didn't say anything, he was still offended!

You didn’t have to go far to notice one thing. Many of the bags were unzipped, not torn or damaged naturally. The trash was scattered in a rather characteristic way with a free space in front. Under the flashlight, from many of them cockroaches scurried away.

"Hey, Rude?" Reno called out quietly, forgetting that he hadn't spoken to the older man. "Did you notice?" he asked, not specifying what he meant, but they understood each other without words, so if the same thing was happening at the other end of the room, Rude certainly knew what he was talking about.

“Yes... someone was here before us” said Rude just as quietly, not even stopping when a huge rat ran away from under his feet.

“ I knew it! The question is whether he came for the same reason as us, or if it was just a coincidence... “ the redhead pondered out loud.

“ If he came for the package, he wouldn't have to dig through the bags”  Rude pointed out, and Reno had to admit he was right. He didn't like doing that...

“But that means that even if that damn box was somewhere on top, now it could be anywhere” he grumbled, pushing one of the bags blocking his way. It wasn't a very good idea, after that one, more followed, trapping him in a pile of trash.

“Great, just amazing” he sneered, and then sat in silence for a moment, until something sticky and decidedly unpleasant was within reach of his hand again.

Rude calmly and patiently endured the whining of the redhead, knowing that if he let his emotions out in real time, he could draw logical conclusions from him later, which were surprisingly precise considering how impulsive and distracted Reno seemed.

Finally, they found each other, which meant that the entire room had been searched and they had found nothing. That was not good news.

"We need to check the second room," Rude said with a calm that infuriated Reno.

They went outside into the slightly cooler air of the approaching evening. The sun wasn't cold yet, but when it hid behind the clouds, you could feel the autumn breeze on your back.

"How do you do that?" Reno asked, his voice tinged with resentment, as he looked at Rude's clothes.

The bald man raised his eyebrows in a questioning gesture.

“ How is it that we're both mucking around in the same shit, and you look like you just came out of a business meeting?” he said, pointing to his suit, which was only slightly dirty around the legs and perhaps the cuffs of the jacket, while Reno looked like he had wrestled with rats over the last moldy slice of pizza and lost.

Rude merely shrugged, trying hard not to laugh at the sight of Reno, who had buttoned his shirt all the way down to avoid getting his skin dirty, and still looked like a mess and as if he had dove headfirst into a pile of bags. He didn't want to ask him where the brown mark on his forehead came from, or what the white spots on his trousers were from. Reno, of course, noticed the barely perceptible twitch of his lips, at which he rolled his eyes and moved on to the second building. He kicked a random rock all the way down (a dizzying fifty meters) with dissatisfaction.

The second dumpster was worse. The stench that hit Reno in the nostrils made him turn green in the face, and the unhealthy sweat stuck to his forehead. However, he didn't say a word, feeling Rude's gaze on him, and with his mouth tightly clenched, he went inside.

It didn't take long to figure out why it smelled so bad inside. In one corner of the room, a pile of rotting monsters' bodies was piled up, which often appeared in the area and terrorized warehouse workers and residents of the seventh and eighth sectors. SOLDIERS were sent to deal with them from time to time. But why were they left in the dumpster instead of being taken outside the city for disposal, Reno couldn't understand.

“ Fucking SOLDIERS,” the redhead sneered, kicking one of the monsters with such force that its leg snapped off and flew into a dark corner of the room. A warning hiss came from that direction. A rat, a cat, maybe another abomination that had escaped from Hojo's laboratory. Who knew?

“Ssssss you too”  Reno hissed back, ignoring Rude's amused snort and returned to his search.

When they returned to the office late in the afternoon with a package under their arm, a green cloud of stench and flies attracted by the smell almost surrounded them. Anyone they passed by would immediately hold their nose and run away from them as far as possible. Reno thought Tseng had earned the minor inconvenience and before he let himself be dragged into the shower, he marched to his superior first.

Finding Tseng wasn't difficult. As usual, he was in the Turks' office with his dark, almost black eyes fixed on the screen of his work laptop. He had exotic facial features and slanted eyes accentuated with eyeliner. In the middle of his forehead was a red symbol in the shape of a dot. He had long, black hair with strands framing his face, pulled back into a ponytail. At first glance, it was clear that he didn't come from Midgar, but rather from Wutai. Even at this hour, his uniform was immaculate. He had not a single button undone, no wrinkle where it shouldn’t be, and a tie tied with murderous precision. When Reno and Rude approached his desk, spreading their dubious olfactory aura, he didn't even flinch.

“Good job” he said, not taking his eyes off the screen and his hands off the keyboard, even when the package with a wet clatter fell on a pile of freshly prepared documents. Reno was not satisfied with this fact.

"We need new uniforms," said the redhead, leaning toward the man, but even if more of the unpleasant smell reached his nostrils, he didn't show it. Boring.

“I placed an order, they should be in your cabinets by the end of the week” he replied in a tone so neutral that Reno had absolutely nothing to complain about. He stood there for a moment at Tseng's desk, holding back the urge to sway back and forth.

“You won't even say us what's inside?” he finally asked what he had received a glint of amusement in his eyes for.

"That's not important to you," the man replied politely, which meant that Reno should not interfere in other people's business.

The redhead shrugged, then, seeing that the black-haired man wasn't going to talk to them anymore, he turned on his heel and left. Rude bowed his head in respect, which Tseng returned, and then he went to catch up with Reno, who was not trying to walk particularly fast. He was dissatisfied with Tseng's lack of reaction, and even more so with his unquenched curiosity about the contents of the package, for which he had fought so hard with the mountain of trash and nausea. He didn't feel superior in this situation and it really irritated him.

“Hey, Rude? I think I'm hungry, maybe we can go to the cafeteria upstairs?” he suggested innocently, nonchalantly putting his hands behind his head. He wasn't hungry at all, but he thought that disgusting the meal to everyone who hadn't had a chance to leave the building would improve his mood.

Rude adjusted his glasses on his nose. His expression didn't change at all.

"We should take both elevators," he said dead serious, and when Reno understood what he was proposing, a terrible, loud laugh came out of his throat, which drove others crazy, but made Rude ecstatic because of the redhead's amusement. The man began patting him on the shoulder, not very gently, but it didn't bother him; Reno couldn't really hurt him even if he used a bit more force than an average person in such a situation.

“And that's why you're my partner, partner!” said Reno, smiling broadly at him, showing the tips of his teeth. Rude immediately felt the urge to bend down to kiss him, but instead he held out a clenched fist in his direction, ignoring his rapidly beating heart. Reno fistbump his hand, and in a much better mood, ready to spoil it for everyone else, he headed for the elevator.

When the door closed behind Reno and Rude, Tseng reached for his phone and dialed a number.

"Package recovered," he said when Rufus's voice came through on the other end.

“Great, Darkstar was getting bored with the old toys” the blonde said with obvious satisfaction in his voice.

"I'll bring the box as soon as possible," Tseng promised.

"Tonight , and bring wine, whatever you choose will be fine," the blond commanded with tone that won’t tolerate resistance.

“As you wish. Anything else?” the dark-haired man asked, not letting the smile that tried to creep into his face be heard in his voice.

“Lubricant, I don't want to show up at the board meeting tomorrow and be unable to sit still” the man grumbled, causing pleasant sensations in Tseng's lower abdomen.

"I understand," the older man replied, feeling that one more moment of conversation with the blond-haired angel on the other side and he would have to loosen his tie, which was absolutely unacceptable.

“I'll see you in less than an hour, Tseng. You can’t just sit in the office. You have other duties here” Rufus said, then hung up without giving the Turk a chance to say goodbye.

A soft snort escaped between the man's lips, and he finally allowed himself a gentle smile. He knew Rufus was worried about his workaholism, and he was willing to use any excuse to get him out of the office. Yes, Tseng loved his job, but not as much as Rufus, and he always made sure to prove it to him.