Farther Than Guns Will Go: 2. Edge of Charm

Rufus/Reno. NC-17. ~4600. Shades of D/s. Toys. Co-written with Ponderosa.
Raw lust hits Reno like a cheap gutshot, rips a short groan from deep in his belly.

Reno hangs back, shoulder propped on the doorframe, and watches Rufus putter. The lights dim, cufflinks clatter to the glass tabletop and the music kicks in, something quiet and mellow and meant to put people to sleep.

“You could spend some time at your own place,” Rufus suggests, loosening his tie with two quick tugs.

“I’m still on the clock, boss.” Reno elbows the door shut and flicks the old-style lock. It’s one of those quirks Rufus has, like the way the apartment is spit shiny clean but Reno’s never seen the butler or the maid even though he’d been the one to run background checks on all the candidates. “It’s a little tough to do my job when I’m all the way across town.”

Rufus gives him that look, the one that says he knows Reno’s always switching shifts to get the evening hours. Reno just slings him an easy grin, strolls into a gourmet kitchen that’s probably seen even less action than Hojo at a staff party, and folds his arms on the counter.

“You want me to get you something, boss?” Reno asks, eyes on the long line of Rufus’s legs as he stretches out on a leather chaise.

“A drink would be good. Wine.” Rufus closes his eyes, his fingers lazily curved on a cushion and swaying only slightly to the ebb and flow of sound. “Something red.”

Reno strips off his jacket and flings it over a stool. The wine rack is full, predictably organised by region, flavour and body. Because he can get away with it, he glances at the alcohol content on each red and grabs the strongest he can find.

A wine glass is easy to choose, something big and thick and heavy and filled to the brim. Rude’s always telling him he’s a size queen, but hey, he’s not the only one. Besides, he’s got plans.

Reno saunters over and crouches beside Rufus, glass held up between them. It only takes a second for Rufus to open his eyes and look first at the wine, then Reno, before accepting it. Eyebrow raised, he lifts the glass in a toast and takes a small sip.

Reno watches his throat work as he swallows, and gets hard just thinking about it. Rufus sucks dick the same way he does everything — deliberately, with a purpose, and really fucking good.

After taking another slower, longer drink, Rufus sucks breath in between his teeth and says, “You want a good fuck, don’t you.”

“You saying you don’t?” Reno says, giving an offhand shrug and plastering a cocky grin across his face. Since Rufus isn’t saying no, he braces a hand beside Rufus’s head and leans close. “If you’re gonna be stuck with me, we might as well have a little fun,” he says, other hand sliding down Rufus’s thigh, nudging them apart, his knee settling between them.

And since he still isn’t saying no, Reno’s lips brush the shell of Rufus’s ear, trace a line from there to the corner of his mouth. “You can have a drink, we can fuck,” Reno says, that familiar thrill coiling down his spine like it always does when Rufus isn’t a sure thing. “You can have another drink, we can fuck some more.”

Rufus turns away for another drink of wine, small wisps of hair tickling his cheek, and the twist in Reno’s gut just winds tighter. “A little fun,” Rufus says, like he’s thinking about it, weighing pros and cons, but the words slide hot against Reno’s skin.

When Rufus hands him the glass to set aside, he thinks his dick might explode. It doesn’t help that he’s been cooped up in a minicopter all day with Rufus practically in his lap, breathing in the scent of that expensive shampoo and spicy soap and having fuck all to do but imagine shoving his dick into tight, clutching heat and listening to Rufus moan.

Rufus catches his wrist as soon as the wine is on the table, thumb digging hard into the centre of his palm. “You think with your dick a lot, Reno,” he says, and Reno can feel the tiny tremor of a suppressed shiver when his thigh presses tighter to Rufus’s.

“Can’t help it,” Reno says. “Character flaw.” He flexes his fingers in Rufus’s grip. This is one of the best parts, the right before, those few seconds when it’s still hovering between yes and no and hard or soft; where it could be just hands fisted in his hair and come sliding down his throat or a chance to get his tongue in Rufus’s mouth and his dick in Rufus’s ass.

“How about it, boss?” he says, pushing for it, sliding long fingers through soft hair, cradling the back of Rufus’s head in his palm. “Feel like fucking around?” A little nudge and Rufus’s mouth is tilted to his, lips touching in tiny flutters that play at being kisses. Reno’s tongue feels thick. “Been a while since I had my dick up your ass. Maybe we can do some of that kinky stuff, get my tongue in there first.”

Rufus puts a hand to Reno’s chest and pushes, and Reno almost howls. His cock’s already aching, his mouth wet thinking about it. Rufus swings a leg over the edge of the chaise, stands, and starts walking away, wine glass in hand. On the cushion, Reno’s knuckles turn white. Fuck the clock, he’s going to need more than one drink to get through the rest of the night.

Lifting the glass again, Rufus downs the rest in a series of long swallows that Reno swears is just to torture him. “Bring the bottle with you,” Rufus says, and it takes a minute for that to get through Reno’s head. By the time it does, Rufus is already in the bedroom, shoes kicked aside, tie flung over the back of a chair.

Reno hops off the chaise, grabs the bottle from the kitchen while toeing his own shoes off and makes a half-assed attempt at being tidy by shoving them underneath the stool with his jacket. When he gets to the bedroom door, the first thing he sees is Rufus, shirt unbuttoned, tugging at the cuffs to slide it off.

“Maybe you’ll get a little drunk,” Reno says, stepping up behind Rufus to sling an arm around him, pinning the shirt between them only halfway off. “And I’ll take advantage of you. See how much you like taking it up the ass. Fill you full of come and lick it right back out again.” He offers up the bottle, scrapes his teeth against skin as Rufus lifts it to drink.

“So when I’m feeling tipsy,” Rufus says, breath barely hitching when Reno hooks his finger in a beltloop and jerks, pressing his dick hard to the curve of Rufus’s ass. “You’ll push me to the bed.”

Reno scratches lightly with his nails, just the way to make Rufus shiver, and then Rufus reaches back, cups his dick and squeezes, still talking, saying, “And I’ll try to tell you to stop, but won’t quite find the words.”

“Yeah,” Reno breathes, feeling dizzy, like he’d downed all that wine in one gulp. His mouth is on the slope of Rufus’s shoulder, an open-mouthed kiss that’s more teeth than tongue.

And Rufus says, “Then you’ll fuck me,” undoes the zip of Reno’s pants and works his fingers inside. “Fuck me hard enough to make me scream and beg for more.”

Reno pictures it all, every little detail: shoving Rufus to his knees on the floor, bending him over the bed, those little sounds he makes when he’s trying to hold back and can’t quite do it.

“Or maybe,” Rufus says, “I’ll turn the tables on you,” and cups Reno’s balls, squeezes them near the point of pain. He pinches, tugs, and Reno’s hiss blends with his whispered words. “I’ll cuff you to the headboard and introduce you to some of the really kinky stuff.”

Raw lust hits Reno like a cheap gutshot, rips a short groan from deep in his belly. “Fuck, boss,” he says, eyes clenched tight, forehead pressed to Rufus’s shoulder. “You wouldn’t kid about shit like that, would you?”

Reno mouths at the slant of Rufus’s jaw, frantic for the taste of skin on his tongue, and breathes deep, nudging through short cropped hair to lick the other side of Rufus’s neck. “What kinda stuff?” he asks, and Rufus just pinches again, harder, so he catches Rufus’s wrist, fingertips digging into thin, delicate skin hard enough to bruise. “You got whips hanging up next to those fancy ties or what?”

Rufus twists around to face him, manages to keep his balls in hand, and offers up a cool smile. “Whips, yes. Several kinds,” Rufus says, flicking open the buttons of his white shirt. “Floggers. A few special ones that are long enough it’d be impossible to use them on you in this room.” With a hand over the rapid-fire beat of his heart, Rufus pushes him back until his shoulders hit the wall.

“You think you’d like that sort of thing, Reno?” Rufus asks, and Reno knows his eyes have gone a little wide, mouth open on short, hard breaths. Beneath smooth features, that fucking beautiful face, there’s heat like ice chips sliding down his spine.

Rufus bites at his jaw and licks the marks away, toys with his nipple with the edge of a thumbnail, asks, “Do you like the smell of leather?” Reno closes his eyes, feels teeth at the hollow of his throat, a hard, sucking kiss that’ll leave a mark to linger for days. “Tight around your head, covering your eyes, covering everything but your mouth,” Rufus’s voice drops to a murmur, and Reno opens his eyes to meet Rufus’s steady gaze. “Maybe your jaw forced wide and no choice but to lick and suck whatever gets shoved in your mouth.”

Reno’s hand clamps tight on Rufus’s hip, and he’s torn between just jerking the bastard forward and grinding the edge off or waiting to see what trick Rufus hauls out next. Lips graze his, another teasing almost-kiss, and that’s good enough for Reno. He fists a handful of hair, jerks Rufus’s head up and bites at soft, damp flesh, tasting wine. Rufus’s hand is still on his cock, so Reno bites harder, rocks forward, looking for something, anything to keep him sane.

“I like the rough shit,” he says, and grins. It’s not a lie, just the thought of Rufus taking a whip to his bare skin has him ready for it, makes him want to shove Rufus around. “What else besides your fingers or you dick would you fuck my mouth with anyway?” he asks, uncurling his fingers, flexing them in Rufus’s hair. “Gonna make me suck my own stun baton to make up for shoving it up your ass?”

Rufus steps away with another smile, shrugs off his shirt and tosses it casually over the back of the chair with his tie. “Maybe later,” he says. “But for now, take off your pants and get on the bed.”

Reno stares at him for a handful of moments, skin prickling from the brush of cool air against his bare chest, but Rufus is all business, sliding open the bottom dresser drawer and rooting around through a mess of stuff. Letting out a quiet huff, Reno does what he’s told, leaves just his shirt on and kicks back on the sheets, legs crossed at the ankles, arms tucked behind his head.

Rufus says, “Let’s see how many of those you can take up that pretty ass of yours,” and tosses a long string of thick beads onto the bed beside him where they click and roll and end up resting cold against the side of his thigh. “I’d cuff you, but as you said, you’re still on the job.” Rufus takes one ankle and tugs his legs apart, kneels on the bed between them. “And put these on.”

There’s a rattle of metal as something cold pools on Reno’s stomach, and he’s still scrambling to catch up when fingertips cool with gel slip between his legs, circle his hole and make his dick jump. Ten minutes ago, he’d been pretty sure he’d get some good cocksucking out of this; five minutes ago, he’d put money down on having Rufus clutched tight around his dick and moaning under him; now, he’s got nipple clamps dangling from his fingertips and fucking anal beads shoved up against his hole.

“Whoa, whoa, boss,” Reno trails off into a hiss, thighs tensing, lifting him up off the bed and just making it easier for Rufus to force that god damn first bead inside him, a quick stretch and burn that turns into a sweet little ache. He can’t help but clench around it, trying to figure out what the fuck it feels like, and his breath skips every time Rufus twitches the string.

Reno’s Reno, though, and if he’s got something smartass to say, he’s going to say it. “If I’m the one getting stuff shoved up my pretty ass,” he says, flicking his tongue against one of the clamps, the metallic taste sharp and immediate, “then I shouldn’t have to dress myself up for you.”

Rufus doesn’t say anything, eyes between his spread legs, on the stretch of muscle forced wide to take in another bead, and Reno’s eyes widen again. Rufus is just going to ignore him entirely and really concentrate on stuffing him full.

Reno’s thighs tremble on the next, and Rufus says, “Don’t complain. Be glad I’m giving you the chance to do it yourself.” Rufus barely glances up, tells him, “I might put them on too tight, after all,” before his gaze drifts down again.

Reno feels one bead start to slip free, his body trying to force it out, and Rufus stops it with a fingertip, pushes it easily back in. It shouldn’t be as hot as it is, Rufus’s hand on his thigh, keeping his legs spread wide, the way the beads shift inside him make it impossible not to squirm.

Reno clutches one clamp in his fist, feeling it bite deep into his palm, and when Rufus shoves a hand under him, lifts his ass higher, shoves a finger inside him, there’s a rush of heat that leaves him struggling to breathe. The air’s cooler for a split-second, sending shivers racing down his spine, and then the heat comes roaring back.

“You’re going to be loose after this,” Rufus says, licking his lips like he’s picturing it.

“Fuck, boss,” Reno says. “Fuck, just hang on a–”

Rufus doesn’t listen, just curves his fingers deeper, making the beads rub up inside Reno, touch places not really meant to be touched. “And I’m going to fuck you until your ass is gaping open, and watch my come drip right out of you.”

Reno groans, “Just a god damn minute,” and catches the slow, reptile curve of Rufus’s lips, guesses he’s got about all of two seconds before it’s back to business. He rubs a shaking hand across his mouth, props himself up on one elbow and fumbles with the clamps, managing to affix just one before he’s stretched wide again, a groan dragged up straight from the pit of his stomach.

Another push, more stretch, more pressure, and a moan falls from his lips. He almost says stop, it’s too much, too fucking full and wrong, but Rufus’s voice slides threatening across his skin, “Just do it,” and he does.

“Don’t move,” Rufus says as Reno slumps to the bed, chest heaving, shining with sweat. “And if one of those beads comes out while I’m gone, you’re going home for the night.”

Reno’s eyes flash wide, fingers twisting in the sheets as the mattress shifts. He watches Rufus walk to the wine bottle, pour a fresh glass, and then his attention is wrenched back to the crazy feeling of his ass clutched tight around everything inside him.

Seconds tick by, and Reno glances back to Rufus, sees him lick the rim of the wine glass and watch him like some sector project that’s going particularly well. It’s hard to breathe, and he can’t stop squirming, his teeth clenched and shoulders digging into the mattress. It feels like he’s hanging there forever, on the brink of something.

Reno barely hears the clink of glass and the rustle of clothes, the soft footsteps, Rufus’s quiet, “Is it difficult, Reno? Having them all inside you, shifting around, pressing in strange places?”

A sharp tug on his chest snaps everything back, stark and overexposed, and he wrenches open eyes he can’t remember closing. His mouth falls open on a harsh gasp, and Rufus’s tongue winds lazily between his lips, but he can’t kiss Rufus right. Not like this, with pain searing his nerves, pain so fucked up it’s like his body can’t figure out what to do except writhe.

Reno says, “Anyone–” and chokes on a strangled groan when Rufus does something with the clamps, makes it tighter, makes it hurt. He sucks in desperate breaths, lips shivering against Rufus’s, and grinds out, “Anyone ever tell you, boss, that you’re one really… really twisted fuck.”

Rufus drags a hand down his belly, down to where Reno can feel precome stringing thick from the tip of his cock like he’d already come. “Not many that lived to tell of it,” Rufus says, and the fucker’s voice sounds calm, relaxed.

Reno watches fingertips graze near the head of his dick, sucks in a breath and holds it as Rufus paints his lips wet. He opens his mouth for a kiss as Rufus leans close, moans when Rufus just licks the taste from his lips. Fingers wrap tight around his dick, a thumb swipes across the head, and Reno jerks, his sharp cry muffled by Rufus’s mouth.

“You lost one, didn’t you,” Rufus says, letting go after a few more lazy strokes and reaching down to check for himself. Another quick tug makes Reno’s thighs tense, his muscles clamping down, but it’s too late, the next bead’s already slipping free, tearing another groan from his throat.

“Should I put them back in?” Rufus asks, and Reno can feel everything shifting as he winds the string round his finger. “Or do you want my dick in you?” He tugs again, makes Reno struggle to hold the rest of the beads in. “You love having a cock up your ass, don’t you, Reno. I don’t even need to ask if anyone’s ever told you that you’re a complete slut.”

Reno sucks in a hissing breath, keeps loosing bits and pieces of it in tiny gasps when Rufus tugs and twists and just won’t fucking stop. “You aren’t–” he tries, pushing Rufus’s hand away from his chest, not thinking beyond grabbing a minute to just breathe, and lets out a long, frustrated groan when Rufus easily pins his arm to the bed.

One breath, then two, a third. Rufus isn’t doing anything now, but Reno doesn’t trust it and forces the words out as fast as they’ll come. “You wouldn’t try something like fucking me with those things still up my ass, would you, boss?”

Rufus’s answer is a smile and a flick of his fingers. Reno’s foot slips on the mattress and if feels like everything just wrenches, leaves him scrambling along behind trying to keep from losing it completely.

Reno feels another tug, harder, and a bead almost slips free, almost, but Rufus holds it in place where it stretches him open the most. “Do you think you can take that much?” Rufus asks, and the mattress dips as Rufus straddles his thigh, dick pressed hard and hot to his skin. It’s worse this way, stuck halfway between two different pleasures, just pressure, no friction.

Rufus says, “Do you want that much?” and lets the bead slip free, pushes it back in again once, a second time, like he’s thinking about fucking him with it. A thumb presses just behind Reno’s balls, pushes harder and harder until he’s gasping for air like a dying man. “Like being shoved full until you feel like you’re going to burst?” Fingers tighten around his arm, bruising, and Rufus’s mouth seals over his, greedily stealing what’s left of his breath.

Reno struggles and Rufus lets his mouth go, licks a path down his throat instead and tongues one of the clamps. It echoes through him, makes him tense and he can feel his hole contract, tug on the beads, and Rufus tugs right back.

“Maybe I should shove my whole arm up inside of you,” Rufus says, and Reno can feel how easy it is for him to work a slippery fingertip inside again, and then a second. Reno tries to shake his head no, tell Rufus all right, okay, uncle, white flag, no more, no fucking more, but Rufus is already fucking him, fingers thrusting deep.

Reno’s nails dig into his scalp, the heel of his hand pressed hard to his forehead. He can’t think anymore, can’t breathe, can hardly hear Rufus’s voice over the pounding in his ears. It’s all stretch and gut-clenching ache, pressure that makes his teeth clench, his lips peel back in a silent snarl.

Rufus shoves harder and Reno shudders, rocks back to meet it. His dick is heavy, aching, as full as the rest of him. Fucked up pleasure coils tighter, tighter again, and another long, strangled groan tears free of his throat, Rufus’s thumb inching in beside the fingers already buried in him.

Panic slices across his nerves, an adrenaline flood of it. “Fuck, no,” he breathes, shaking, shuddering, but Rufus doesn’t hear him or isn’t listening, grinding against his thigh as he bucks and twists and fucking writhes.

“Fuck,” Reno hisses, gasps, “fuck, fuck, fuck.” Rufus nips as his chest, peppers it in sharp red marks. Fingers spread wide, wider. Reno chokes on a howl, so god damn sure Rufus is trying to kill him, and still he tries to swallow the whimper caught high in his throat, but it slips out anyway: Rufus and please.

Rufus stops for less than a heartbeat, barely a pause, and pulls his fingers out. Two more of the beads slide free right after. Reno slumps back, lets his arms fall slowly to the sheets. He gulps air like water and lets Rufus force his legs wide, settle between them to watch as another bead slips free before muscles contract to hold the last in.

“One more,” Rufus tells him. “Push it out or I’ll fuck you with it still inside you.”

It feels like it should be wrong for that to send a rush of lust through him, but it doesn’t, it just makes his dick twitch and the ache grow. Reno fists a hand in Rufus’s hair, drags him close, breathes, “Go for it, boss,” into his mouth. An insane thrill trips down Reno’s spine, and he’s still shaking, still trembling. “Hard as you can.”

It’s easy for Rufus to thrust in, but there’s pressure where there shouldn’t be. Rufus groans, still mouth to mouth, and he gives Reno one hard, crushing kiss before snapping his hips. Reno clutches at his shoulder, other hand slapping against the headboard and can’t even think about meeting his thrusts, just barely able to hold on and take it with that last bead scraping the thin line of pain.

Rufus drops to one elbow beside him, slips an arm under his knee and shoves it tight to his chest. Lips drag against his cheek, Rufus’s breath harsh and heavy in his ear. “Such a fucking tight fit,” Rufus hisses; groans, “I just want to fucking cram my fingers right back in there,” with nails clawing the outside of his thigh, losing rhythm with a shameless moan against his neck. “Feel the slide of my dick against them while you — fuck — open up wide enough to take it all.”

And Reno moans for him to do it, go ahead, why the fuck not — he’s stretched to fucking gaping now, what’s one more thrill when Rufus is hissing filthy words like that at him. He’s got time to suck in one surprised breath right before his vision goes white, orgasm hitting like a sucker punch and knocking the air from his lungs. Come strikes his chest, hot spatters along his collarbone, and Rufus, that son of a bitch, waits right for that moment before shoving cock and fingers deep.

More heat trickles beneath Reno’s fingertips, his nails broken through the skin of Rufus’s arm. He jerks Rufus’s head up, digs teeth into the soft flesh of Rufus’s bottom lip, and doesn’t give a fuck about the tinny, salty taste spreading across his tongue.

Rufus pulls out nearly all the way, fucks him with shallow thrusts that keep him shuddering, convulsing around fingers and dick and that fucking little bead. Rufus breathes a sound into his mouth, a low, heavy groan, and then Reno feels him come, feels each pulse of Rufus’s dick in his ass.

Rufus tears away, sits back to watch and fucks him just a little bit longer, and Reno can feel Rufus’s dick slide in and out of him so wet and so fucking easy. When Rufus finally pulls free, Reno feels come just seep right out of him, the last bead following, and then he just lays there and breathes, fucked so raw.

Reno shifts and groans as hands slide up his thighs, rolls onto his side as far as Rufus will let him. Fingers press close to his hole and he curls up, hisses when Rufus pulls him open wider and his body twitches weakly as it strains to tighten up again.

It says something, like he’s a sick, twisted fuck too, that it just makes his dick jump, thinking about Rufus watching him, looking at what’s been done to him. The sheets jostle the clamps and he covers his face with a hand, dreading the moment those come off.

Rufus rubs a thumb against the very edge of his hole and he says fuck it, fumbles for a minute and releases the clamps one right after the other. Reno bites back something way too close to a scream as blood comes rushing back, and hears Rufus’s breath skip.

“I’m not moving,” Reno mumbles, curling up tighter, arms over his chest but too afraid to actually clutch the throbbing pain. “Not unless you call Rude to come drag me away. Don’t think you want him to see what you just did to my ass, boss.”

The mattress dips, and Reno cracks open an eye long enough to see Rufus stretch out beside him, a possessive hand still on his thigh, stroking lazily. The corners of Reno’s eyes are damp, his skin is sticky, covered in sweat and come.

He’ll stay the night, and they’ll probably share a shower because it takes less time, then remake the bed using clean sheets with him doing most of the work. And maybe later, when he doesn’t feel like he’s just been gangbanged by the entire SOLDIER corps, they’ll have a nice, slow fuck with the lights on low and that damn prissy music turned off.


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