Damage Control

Rude/Reno. NC-17. ~600 words. For Spring Kink.
The vaguely human-shaped lump beside him snores like a hibernating grizzly.

Reno rolls over, blearily-eyed and mouth dry as Corel. The room is a quiet, stuffy pitch-black. He swallows a couple times and works his tongue around, tasting beer and come.

“Hey, Rude,” he says, digging himself out from underneath the tangled nest of blankets and clothes. “Rude, yo, you awake?”

The vaguely human-shaped lump beside him snores like a hibernating grizzly.

He could crawl to the foot of the bed easily enough, it’s not like his eyeballs are floating yet or anything. But he’s always thought it sort of dumb for Rude’s bed to be shoved up against one wall – not only does it take away one of three avenues of exit, it turns making the fucking thing into a triathlon gold medal event.

Grinning viciously, Reno yanks the covers down and clambers straight over Rude. His head threatens to explode when he flicks on the bathroom light, but it’s worth Rude’s rough curse and the hurried thump of blankets.

Reno bangs a few things around in between taking a piss and a token clean-up. He spends a good three minutes rooting around in the cupboards and cabinet for the spare toothbrush that’s right beside the sink.

The bed’s empty when he gets out. Making the effort to turn his grin down to a slightly-less obnoxious level, Reno saunters out to the kitchen to find Rude, bare naked and grumpy, clinging to a beer like a lifeline.

“Got one of those for me?” Reno asks, all casual and friendly-like.

“This is why you go home after,” Rude grumbles. He nudges the fridge door shut with his heel. “Last one.”

“Baby, c’mon.” Reno slides up close, hands drifting past Rude’s hips to grip the counter behind him. He likes how Rude’s a couple inches taller than him, a couple broader – hell, Rude’s a couple inches bigger than him all the way around, and Reno’s queer enough to really enjoy it – so it’s real easy run his tongue along the sharp edges of Rude’s collarbones. “You’re holdin’ out on me.”

Rude grunts softly, bottles clanking as he tugs open the fridge and fishes out another beer. He even goes so far as to twist around and crack it open on the corner of the stove.

“You wanna go again?” Steam curls enticingly from the bottle’s mouth. Rude’s got expensive taste in beer, and while Reno likes it better, he’s still too lazy to do much more than grab something generic from the corner when he’s on his own. He chugs the first couple mouthfuls before easing off, and shifts to line his hips up with Rude’s, grinding nice and slow. “Could suck you off right here.”

“Tile’s cold,” Rude says, but he eases back against the counter, beer dangling from his fingertips.

“Fuck it.” On his knees, beer hastily shoved a few feet away, Reno gets a good look at just how interested Rude is, cock thick and curved up like an invitation. “Love your dick.”

“Gonna show it some appreciation?” Rude says, all for Reno’s benefit, because Rude would just as soon get Reno on his cock first and talk about it later.

Reno curls a thumb around the base, fingers fanned out over Rude’s taut belly to feel every twitch and jerk of muscle. His mouth’s full from thinking about how long he can get away with just licking Rude’s cock, getting all that soft, dark skin glistening, rubbing slick on his lips and tingling, wet smears on his skin.

“Yeah,” Reno says, voice thick, “yeah, gonna show it some real good appreciation.”


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