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clean your weapon

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“How long’s it gonna take you to fix that thing?” Rude asks.

Reno shrugs, hunched over his work area. He’s been prodding at the magrod all day. “It’s fixed. Just fucking with it now.”

Rude smirks. “Doesn’t look like fucking from here.”

Reno flips him off without turning away. “You’re not from Midgar. We do it different here.”

“Yeah?” Rude walks into his space, sinking down onto the floor to sit beside Reno. “Without touching?”

“Oh yeah, we’re real creative like that,” Reno says, readjusting his goggles so they’re back on his forehead. He fits a piece back into place and shows the magrod off to Rude. “Squeaky clean.”

Rude plucks it out of his hand before Reno can object. “Very nice.” He rests the very tip of the magrod on Reno’s shoulder. “This count?”

Reno gives a curt laugh, pulling his work gloves off. “Watch it, now. You’re gonna wanna turn that down a little, unless I pissed you off without realizing it.”

“Show me,” Rude says, holding the center of the weapon up to Reno.

Reno obliges the request, showing him how to adjust the power level and Rude wonders by the slight curve to Reno’s lips if he already read Rude’s mind or if he's just having a good day.

“Does the lowest setting even hurt?” Rude asks, activating it without touching anything. He can feel the mechanism at work, warm against his palm through the rubber grip.

Reno laughs again, but the tone is different. A little more smoke in it. “Oh yeah. Me and her been through a lot.”

Rude shuts it off, taps it against Reno’s back. “That why you’re sitting on the floor instead of in the metal chair?”

Reno nods, and Rude swears the guy’s breath catches when he taps the rod against his back a little lower. Vertebrae by vertebrae, Rude trails the magrod down Reno’s back over the fabric of his work shirt.

“Not like you to be so quiet,” Rude says, voice low.

Reno’s eyes are fixed on a distant point and Rude can tell by the lines of his body and how he’s holding himself that he’s waiting.

Rude smiles.

“Guess I’m waiting for you to ask me some— fuck!

Reno’s whole body goes taut like a wire when Rude brushes the active magrod to his hip. Only for a second before he pulls it away.

“Sorry,” Rude says, calm as ever.

Reno’s blue eyes are absolutely electric, gaze sliding over to Rude’s. “I’m sure your hand just slipped.”

“Exactly,” Rude says. “You know.”

The sound of Reno’s breathing accelerating and his suddenly perfect posture and the tangible anticipation in his eyes has Rude’s heart racing. Exactly what he wanted.

“Yeah,” Reno says. “Itchy trigger fing— ahh.”

Rude places it against his hip again, inching it toward the front of his body for a couple of seconds, watching Reno’s face light up. When he pulls it off Reno, the guy takes a shuddering breath before giving this little laugh. Rude has seen Reno beaten, bloodied, and bruised more times than he cares to count, but this is a new expression. A unique emotion. When Reno moves his arms back, setting his hands to brace himself on the floor, Rude gets a thrill straight down his spine. Like watching a wolf show him it’s belly.

Rude shuts the magrod off and uses the tip of it to pull up Reno’s shirt. “Not too strong for you right?”

Reno gives him another breathy laugh. “You kidding?”

He flinches every time the rod touches him.

“I’ve gotten myself on accident way worse than that,” Reno finishes in a rush because now he knows what Rude is doing.

“Yeah?” Rude sets the rod against Reno’s thigh. “How bad?”

Reno’s chest is rising and falling, frantic. “Can’t say I remember exactly.”

Rude flips the power back on and Reno’s mouth drops open, letting out a drawn out curse. His hips twitch, head thrown back, and Rude smiles as Reno’s thighs jump apart.

“Shi—it,” Reno gasps when Rude turns it off again. His ponytail hangs like a ribbon from his tilted head.

Rude trails the tip up the inside of Reno’s thigh, over the front of his sweatpants, watching Reno trying to catch his breath. With the tip of the magrod, he starts to pull down the waist of Reno’s pants, just enough to run the mechanism through the patch of thick hair.

“You—“ Reno swallows. “Just admiring the goods or what?”

“Was wondering if you dyed everything,” Rude tells him with a smirk. He sends another jolt through, just a split second of power, and gets a rewarding moan. Reno actually chases the rod with his hips when Rude pulls it off him. Such a pretty look of anticipation and a lovely flush to his skin.

Rude pulls the magrod away and wrenches the edge of Reno’s sweatpants and underwear down, and Reno automatically picks himself up to help get them down his thighs. Rude doesn’t fully undress him, doesn’t need to, just presses the tip of the rod to Reno’s swollen clit. Even without the power on, Reno starts panting, hips rolling against the mechanism, and Rude just watches for a couple seconds while Reno gets himself hard against the surface.

“Starting to think I’m not the only one who had this idea,” Rude says quietly.

“J-just do it,” Reno snaps, hands in fists, eyes shut tight.

Rude presses the rod into him a little harder, liking the way Reno’s whole body twitches preemptively, waiting for the shock.

“Maybe keep your voice down,” Rude tells him. “Don’t want anyone thinking you’re in trouble, do you?”

Reno shakes his head, shutting his mouth to breathe harshly through his nose instead.

“Much better,” Rude says, moving the edge of the magrod a little lower.

Reno whines at the feel of the mechanism teasing his cunt, Rude only barely inserting the tip into Reno’s body. Sending another jolt through, Reno’s mouth falls open but he fights off the sound, letting out this half swallowed moan, tongue to his lip. Rude’s almost surprised when Reno inches his hips forward to take more of the rod into himself, but Rude doesn’t let him.

He pulls the tip back out of Reno, sees the cum on the edge of the rod and dripping out of Reno’s body onto the floor, sees Reno’s chest heaving against his shirt and his trembling legs. Rude sends a pulse straight through to Reno’s clit for a few seconds and watches Reno’s face bloom into a look of raw sensation. Energy pouring into him and out of him. Reno bites his own lip so hard it must hurt, or maybe he’s gone numb to anything else.

Rude touches it to him again with the power on, holds it there until Reno comes with his thighs straining against the elastic of his underwear, all the warmth spilling out of him in a rush. The sound he’s been holding back starts clawing its way out of his throat-- a strangled, desperate moan that sounds like music to Rude. He shuts the rod off and Reno’s body goes slack as he lets himself fall back onto the floor, arms limp on either side of him.

“You good?” Rude asks.

Reno takes a little bit to catch his breath. “Does… that… answer your question?”

“Yeah,” Rude says, setting the magrod back onto the rubber mat Reno had been using to work on it. “How ‘bout next time I show you the more hands on approach. Little less clean up involved.”

Reno gives a tired laugh. “I hate cleanup.”

“I know you do.”