Storm

Part 2 of Preference.
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Catch me in a dream I don’t care
I want to hold the world to my share
And ask for a little more—Jeff Black, Higher Ground

Moments after collecting a freshly showered Reno from Seventh Heaven, Cloud deposited him on the sofa in his apartment.

“Let me put away this chili I had in the crock pot, wasn’t expecting you back tonight.”

“K, just gonna watch the tube while you finish, yo.”

Cloud busied himself in the kitchen, putting up what was to be his dinner before Reno had come back early from his mission and Tifa had fed them all a celebration dinner at the bar. ‘No problem, we can eat it later. Gonna be iced in for days, it looks like. And we’re gonna need our energy’ he smirked. He and Reno could barely keep their hands off each other on the ride back.

Rounding the corner back into the living room he saw Reno sprawled across the sofa.

Sound asleep.

Laughing, Cloud could hardly blame him. Nearly two weeks of sleeping in the cold rain, in the woods, had to be exhausting. Now that he was on a warm dry sofa, it wasn’t surprising that he would fall asleep, horniness aside.

Still, the sofa was at least a foot shorter than Reno’s long frame and Cloud knew if he left him to sleep there, he’d be listening to days of complaints about neck cramps and the like. So he shook his friend awake, or as near to awake as possible.

“Drntwntwktp” Cloud was only mildly disturbed that he understood him perfectly.

“I know but you’ll be all crampy and sore if you stay here.”

“Fuckit.” No translation issues there, at least.

“Maybe later. Now you go to bed.”

“K.” Reno could be surprisingly malleable when promised sex or alcohol.

Cloud drunk-walked him to the bed and removed his shoes with practiced ease. The t-shirt and sweatpants, he figured, would make comfortable enough sleepwear. He changed into sleep pants and an ancient t-shirt himself and pulled up the covers over both of them, deciding the world could go to hell around the nice warm bed, for all he cared. One affectionate kiss good night to the bridge of Reno’s nose and they were both soon fast asleep.

The first waking thought in Reno’s mind was that he was in a bed. A real bed. A warm, dry, indoor bed with a mattress and sheets and everything.

The second thought was that someone was in bed with him.

Instantly wary, he kept perfectly still until he identified his bedmate, and then certain parts of his anatomy stubbornly refused to be still. Slowly opening his eyes, then drawing his fingers over Cloud’s body beside him, he was sure he had somehow died on his mission and was in heaven.

The sound of sleet hitting the window disabused him of that notion, so he laid his head back down. The slight movement had awakened his lover, however.

“Yo’wake?”

“Yeah. Can’t believe I fell asleep on you. My last thought was how I was going to bang you into the mattress.”

“Not a problem. Still time. Anyway, you were wiped. You needed rest.”

Cloud scooted a little closer into Reno’s arms for a slow, soft kiss.

“When did the storm start?” Warm wet kisses trailed down Cloud’s jaw. Reno’s arm moved around his waist as his finger made lazy circles on his lower back, just under the waistband of his pajama pants.

“Hell if I know. I was out not long after you were.”

“This feels nice.”

“Mmmmm. Kiss more.”

Reno’s lips and fingers were doing bad things to Cloud’s ability to finish sentences, so he figured the less words, the better. And Reno’s of his brain was trying to remember if he had been grinding on Cloud’s leg back at the bar. He’s meant to be hugging him but had he gotten carried away? He hoped at least it was a classy cock-grind, like a formal handshake. Yeah, classy! That was it!

But apparently Cloud didn’t mind if it was a classy cock-grind or no, because his throat was making a funny noise that didn’t sound offended at all. Reno didn’t quite catch it so he took his tongue out of Cloud’s mouth to ask for a repeat.

“Fuck me.”

Oh? Ok. He could do that.

Two weeks hadn’t made him a total idiot with need; he was determined to show some finesse with clothing removal. Still, he didn’t recall shirts having that many holes in them and he felt like throwing a parade when the last pants leg was gone.

Then skin. Blessed, warm, naked skin. Then Cloud ground his hardness into HIM and Reno wondered why the hell he had been worried about cock-grind etiquette only a few moments before.

Temporary insanity?

Insanity like this. He bit Cloud’s shoulder to make his yelp sound more like a seductive moan. He wasn’t entirely successful. No one cared. No one noticed. They were so far gone, a bucket of ice water wouldn’t have stopped them.

“Mmmpflube,” the warm little dynamo sucking at his neck murmured. Finally drawing breath, Reno broke them apart. “What?”

Gulp for air. “Would you…” Stop. Try again. “Can you get the lube? It’s in the drugstore bag behind you.” Blinking as if readjusting the brainwaves to language skills. Badly.

“We used up a whole tube, yo? Awesome!”

Naked and stupefied by mere foreplay, Cloud resisted the urge to pummel Reno and set about distracting him from the question of lubricant usage rate.

It wasn’t difficult.

This time, Reno didn’t bother hiding the yelp. “That shit’s cold, yo!”

“What isn’t? There’s an ice storm! Don’t worry, a little friction will warm things up…”

And so Reno wickedly set about creating a good deal more friction than was needed to warm the lubricant on his hands before pressing his fingers, ever so slowly, into the little smartaleck beneath him.

“You’re torturing me.”

“Yep. Stop me if you don’t like it.”

He didn’t. He gasped, he moaned, he muttered various things that could be interpreted as endearments, but he made no move to stop Reno as he removed his fingers and entered him. Slowly. Gently. Again, with torturing slowness.

“I….love…you…” Cloud whispered between licks to his earlobe.

Every nerve in Reno’s body was so sensitive, he could have spouted off the thread count of the comforter clinging to his back. If he could have spoken, that is, past the guttural sounds coming from his throat. What the fuck, if Cloud wanted eloquence he’d be banging a poet.

“Mine,” he finally managed.

Cloud seemed satisfied with that much and began to melt into him, as if he were trying to crush their bones together.

It was ecstasy. The two weeks that had separated them fell apart with each stroke, each thrust, each scrape of their nails, each labored breath, until the fullness and tightness became too much.

“Cloud…”

“Shhhh…me too....Gods!”

Cloud came in a rush of heat, his last coherent thought being that he loved coming with Reno, that it felt the way sweetness tasted, warm and almost painful, arching his back with the intensity of it. Bliss, like too much sugar.

Reno intended to watch his lover peak but the clenching and shuddering of the muscles around him pushed him over the edge, dragging his own climax out of him with what was likely a string of very undignified profanity.

He’d care later.

Maybe.

Two weeks was one longass time. He could be forgiven a bit of enthusiasm.

When their fine motor coordination returned, they made rough work of pushing hair out of each others’ eyes.

“We need to um…clean up. Or something. Before we get sticky.”

Reno was slower to grasp language skills. “Thirsty.” Hell, at least it was more than one syllable.

Chuckling, and figuring that his lover was due a little pampering after two weeks of roughing it, Cloud returned to bed clean, with a warm cloth for Reno and two open beers.

“Good to me.”

Well, it was almost a sentence. As the storm raged outside, Cloud guessed that they had three more days to get Reno up to paragraph form.

Then again, staring at his naked back and sipping on his beer, maybe he would find other uses for a tall, lanky, verbally challenged Turk after all.