Zack did have friends, of course. Other SOLDIERs, people he trained with, laughed with. But even then… something about Reno stood out. Maybe it was the unpredictability. Maybe it was the way he didn’t fit into any neat category Zack was used to. Or maybe it was just that strange pull Zack couldn’t quite explain.

At first, he hadn’t expected them to get along at all. If anything, he’d figured they’d clash—too different, too opposite. And hey, maybe that would still happen. Maybe they weren’t meant to be friends. That was fine. At least he was trying. There was just something about Reno that Zack couldn’t ignore. Something he wanted to figure out—not in a dissecting, overthinking kind of way, but in that instinctive, gut-driven way Zack approached most things. If something felt right, he followed it. Simple as that. And right now? This felt right. Exciting, even.

Zack didn’t dwell on it too much. He never did. Overthinking usually just gets in the way of actually living. Still, there was a flicker of curiosity under it all—something that made him just a little more aware, a little more tuned in. Reno’s laugh snapped him out of it. Zack almost pouted—almost—but the expression melted into a grin just as quickly, a soft chuckle escaping him as he leaned back in his seat and shrugged.

“What?” he shot back, playful and bright. “What if I end up being the best dancer you’ve ever seen?”

He wiggled his brows dramatically, grin widening as he’d just made the most compelling argument of his life. For a split second, Zack’s gaze flicked around the train at Reno’s comment about grouchy people, like he might apologize on his behalf—but he stopped himself. Instead, he just laughed under his breath and shook his head.

“Hey, I’m with you on that one. Life’s too short to spend it being miserable all the time.”

Then came the nickname. Zack blinked. Zacky? It hit him a second later, and he had to bite back a louder laugh. His shoulders bounced once as he ducked his head, grin turning a little crooked—ears warming despite himself. He didn’t call it out. Didn’t tease it. But it stuck. He followed Reno off the train with that same easy energy, stepping onto the platform like he’d been waiting for this part all along. The city lights caught in his eyes as he looked around, then back at Reno, still smiling like he couldn’t quite help it.

“Hm… dunno,” he said, tilting his head thoughtfully at the mention of steps. “Depends.”

He leaned slightly closer as they walked, curiosity plain on his face.

“So what’s step two, huh?”

The question came out light, but there was real interest behind it—like he actually wanted to know the rules of this strange little game Reno had started. Then his stomach betrayed him. Zack paused mid-step, blinking as it growled loud enough to be heard over the surrounding noise. A beat, and then he laughed, rubbing the back of his neck.

Ignorant to the ways of Gongaga, he wouldn't be surprised ( perhaps slightly ) if the townsfolk were known to be terrific dancers. Of course that meant that whatever country dance they would be famed for would not exactly match the energy in Midgar nor the blood-pumping kind of dancing Reno liked to the engage in. It wasn't even about practice or skill; someone just had to have a sense of timing, rhythm, and be horny, more or less. So, Reno gave him that much credit, and in manifested with a modest nod and a roll of his shoulders.

(  ❛ You could be, sure. Grind up on a lot of people and farm animals back home, did ya? ❜  )

With every passive and polite sentence came a little bite; it was the law of the jungle. He really didn't mean it as an insult. A little jab, yes, but in Reno's mind it was entirely plausible country bumpkins would test out their hobbies on their pets and property. As a way to bridge their lines of conversation together and maybe see how many of Zack's buttons he could push, Reno ducked down comically before leaning in to poke the SOLDIER's belly. Naturally, his finger was met with hard abdominal muscles, and it brought a delighted little thrill in him. It didn't show in his face the slightest bit, so he poked again before standing straight up. He was a SOLDIER. Of course he was fit, but it felt nice feeling it. Those gleaming turquoise eyes looked straight into the country bumpkin's skull like he was going to dissect his brain with a single glance . . playfully, of course.

(  ❛ Here I thought you were hungry. I can shove a lot more than that. Come on. ❜  )

Reno didn't mean for his words to have any double meaning, but if the pieces fell in that manner there was no helping it. He acted like a tour guide of the city even though Zack mad been in Midgar for plenty of time. How much time? He really didn't know. Reno hadn't known Zack as a trainee or a 3rd class. One day he was just there— a new face in the hallways and gymnasium to have a good look at. ShinRa hadn't chewed him and spit him up yet. Part of the Turk wished the company wouldn't. Actually . . all of him wished Zack would stay a SOLDIER until a glorious death in battle. It made him think about his own demise, and boy, did he hope it happened before he got old, weak, and creaky in the joints.

Reno didn't mean for his words to have any double meaning, but if the Reno walked with all the bravado in the world as he led his new friend around, but it was a lot like a corrupt mayor taking what would be his security hound for a walk. They had not walked far from the train station when life hit them. The smell of gas, garbage, lots of different foods, and something vaguely burning that was not all that bad. Reno led him to the heart of it all— Restaurants with their doors open, eager for customers, and street vendors trying to outcompete each other by singing, yelling, or banging their cooking utensils against their griddles.

(  ❛ How about . . ❜  )

Abruptly, the redhead stopped and turned on the heels of his shoes. His eyes were on Zack, more calm and casual this time, as he made a little show of walking backwards while gesticulating with excitement.

(  ❛ We start with some deep fried fish balls, oh and these umami fries that I think are covered in seaweed or somethin', then there's like three burger joints but I would not trust one of them. This one place has wobster tails on these buns and like this thick, spicy sauce all over. Oh! Baked clams with beer. ❜  )

He didn't wait for a reply before he bolted to hit up the street vendor grilling up clams. The stand wasn't anything fancy, but there were painted cartoon clams all over the cart, and Reno elbowed a few people to get to the front where he already began ordering them some clams while grabbing two bottles of iced beer from a little bucket.

*nsfw* Dating at the gym💪💦

At first, his brain kind of… tripped over itself, like it needed a second to catch up. The words landed heavy and fast, wrapped in that low, casual tone, and for half a heartbeat, he wondered if he’d misheard—if the train, the platform, the whole damn city had swallowed some of it up. But no. He’d heard it.

His eyebrows shot up before he could stop them, eyes widening just a fraction as heat crept up the back of his neck. Not offended. Not scared. Just… surprised. Maybe more than surprised. There was something raw in the way Reno talked about it, something unapologetic and loud in a way Zack had never really allowed himself to be, at least not to that extent. Maybe he just never thought about it that way.

He stepped onto the train after him, movements a little slower this time, like his body was recalibrating. He chose a seat nearby—not directly beside, but not far either — and leaned forward, his forearms resting on his thighs, hands loosely clasped. He stared at the floor for a second, then glanced up again, a crooked grin tugging at his mouth as if he didn’t quite know what else to do with all that information.

“Wow,” he said, breathy with a laugh. “Uh… yeah. That’s definitely louder than my brain.”

His ears felt warm. He rubbed the back of his neck, but his smile stayed easy. Curious. Not retreating. He watched Reno settle in, posture loose, confident, like the train belonged to him just as much as the city did. Zack shifted his weight, bouncing his knee once before forcing it still.

“I guess that makes sense, though,” he added after a moment, voice thoughtful rather than flustered. “Different ways of blowing off steam. Yours just sounds… uh, intense.”

The train lurched into motion, lights streaking past the windows, and Zack glanced out briefly before looking back again… When Reno mentioned smoking, then beaches and clubs, Zack’s expression softened into something more reflective. He pictured it without really meaning to—sun, music, people moving without worrying about tomorrow—and felt that familiar tug of wanting to experience everything at least once. He knows he won’t like everything he tries, but still, he was curious to at least learn about others, and for some reason, Reno in particular intrigued him in a way he wasn’t used to. The closest thing would be the way he trailed after Sephiroth or Angeal like a stray puppy.

“Beach sounds nice…I don’t get out much unless it’s for work. Training kinda eats most of my free time.” He said honestly and shrugged.

“But dancing?” His grin widened, eyes brightening again. “I’m not sure if I’m great at it, but I’m enthusiastic. That’s gotta count for something, right?”

He leaned back in his seat, stretching his arms overhead before letting them drop, energy settling into something calmer but no less alive.

“Guess I’m still figuring out how to unwind... Maybe tonight’s just… step one.”

Reno bent his knee, lifted his leg, and pressed the sole of his shoe against the structural metal pole keeping the bench bolted in place. He also dragged the pad of his pointer finger against the slightly cool metal, and he watched as he wiped away the rest of the smudges to replace their with his finger print. The redhead didn't want to toot his own horn . . that was a lie, but he was convinced he must have been the most interesting person Zack ever met. If Genesis or Angeal shared any of their lives with the SOLDIER, their lives were likely boring shit in comparison, heroic stories or otherwise. When Zack spoke again, Reno withdrew his finger from the pole and set his bright eyes on the naive SOLDIER. Both of their eyes were bright, different colours, but Zack's personality made his bright with energy; it was not the mako's doing. Who could resist the beach? And before Reno could control himself, not that he really would have given the opportunity, a burst of laughter escaped his mouth.

(  ❛ HA! ❜  )

It almost sounded mocking, then again almost everything Reno said was in a teasing-mocking tone. For those who knew Reno or grew to like him, it was more playful and honest than anything malicious. He could picture a very awkward country bumpkin waving his arms in the air out of rhythm and definitely out of the tone of the music playing. Was Zack not enthusiastic about anything? Reno had suspicions if he was offered to clean up a battlefield, bury the dead, that the SOLDIER would still be a little perky about the prospect.

(  ❛ I mean, it is better than being the sour grouch that refuses to dance. ❜  )

He waved his eyes across the rest of the train car as if accusing the rest of the SHINRA employees, the boring desk jockeys, of being those sour grouches. Reno didn't know them. Hell, he didn't care about them, but he had a feeling that people who had no aspirations in life were the most boring people to party with. They didn't acknowledge their presence or conversation which provided further evidence for Reno. Like sardines in a can, they stared blankly out the window, at seats, at the screens of their comm-devices, and several had their eyes closed for their pre-sleep nap. Did Zack think a burger at a greasy food stall counted as unwinding, or was he attempting to say he was interested in an actual night out. A partial night out considering drinking was, apparently, off the table for a mako-infused super soldier.

(  ❛ Yeah . . step one. Next time maybe we'll go to step three. Though if step one is food, is step three an alcoholic drink, Zacky? ❜  )

The train made several efficient stops with enough time to let people quickly in and out without stalling. Unless hungover or entirely exhausted, Reno wouldn't normally be able to get in a proper nap between ShinRa HQ and sector X with the efficiency the train provided. They finally arrived at their proper stationa, and the bright lights of the lively sector shimmered off all the windows of the train car even before their arrival. Reno went from lounging like a cat in the sun to a striking serpent; on his feet with a dramatic flip of his hair and beating Zack out the doors. He stretched and made a pleased noise as if he had been cramped in a tight space, though he was still sore and tired from their exhausting day in the desert. He rubbed at his stomach before fake stumbling over to nudge Zack in the ribs while a cheshire grin spread across his lips.

(  ❛ Ready to get stuffed, soldier boy? ❜  )

He followed out of the elevator without hesitation, offering a quick, polite nod to security and a friendly smile to anyone who happened to glance their way. The contrast between them wasn’t lost on him—Reno sharp and effortless, Zack bright and unmistakably SOLDIER—but he didn’t feel awkward about it. If anything, it made the whole thing feel kind of exciting, like stepping into unfamiliar territory with good footing.... When Reno joked about not doing liquid dinners, Zack laughed, an easy sound that slipped out without thought.

“Good,” he said lightly. “I’d be useless tomorrow if that was the plan. I still gotta train—can’t show up hungover and embarrass myself.”

Outside, the cooler air hit his face, and he inhaled deeply, shoulders loosening as the day finally started to feel done. He walked with that familiar bounce, energy still buzzing but no longer restless. As they neared the platform, he glanced around at the waiting ShinRa employees, then back again, his expression thoughtful but still warm.

He didn’t ask his next question right away. Instead, he rocked back on his heels, gaze lifting toward the tracks as the distant rumble of the train began to build. Then he looked back over, eyes bright with genuine interest rather than caution. Would Reno still be interested in hanging out even if Zack wasn't much of a drinker? He scratched lightly at his jaw, then suddenly asked...

“Why do you like getting drunk?” He laughed softly, not judgmental, just curious. “Is it just ‘cause it’s fun? Or ‘cause it makes things quieter for a bit?”

Zack shrugged, still smiling, tone open and honest.

“I mean, for me, stuff usually stays loud up here.” He tapped the side of his head once. “Even on my days off, I’m thinking about training or missions or what I could’ve done better. Drinking just makes me goofy, not exactly relaxed, or maybe sometimes it does if you consider getting super sleepy...”

The train’s lights appeared down the track, and Zack straightened, energy lifting again as it approached. He glanced back, grin returning full force.

“So yeah, if you’ve got the secret to actually unwinding, I’m all ears. I could use a new trick, though not sure I’ll ever get used to the taste.” 

In this instance it certainly was not. The side of his mind containing reason and wisdom brought a sour cloud lingering over his head. He dreaded tomorrow, but for the night he had abnormal entertainment. Focus on that. Abnormal and surprising; the curious turn in dialogue had Reno's interest captured in a way that surprised himself. Zack, for a country bumpkin AND a beefhead, was quite introspective. Curiosity was perhaps due to his naivety, but he presented questions and information in an engaging and thought-provoking manner. Reno didn't speak immediately. Thoughts rolled around in his head, and it preceded the rolling and clicking of tongue against his teeth. Zack was asking for trouble.

(  ❛ It doesn't make things quiet for me, or sleepy, though I do eventually pass out if I get shit-faced. It gets loud inside my head. I want to yell and party and blow shit up and fuck. Finding someone to go feral with, that's a good way to unwind. ❜  )

There was no mistaking the actual words Reno said, but the Turk presented in a low, matter-of-fact voice while using the sound of the approaching train to create a wall between words and ears. Did Zack hear him correctly? Reno didn't watched his face only a few beats after speaking, then turned to the stopped train and was the first to step inside when the automated doors opened. Reno raised his hands to slap the handle bars before he sat down on the corner seats where he faced the interior of the train. He sat his thighs splayed, one foot on its side on the floor, and the other foot atop the seat next to him; he doubted Zack had wanted to sit directly next to him.

(  ❛ I smoke... ❜  )

He suddenly picked up the conversation again but waved his hand with annoyed flamboyance. There was history there that he didn't quite get into.

(  ❛ Errrr, talk with people, sometimes drink alone at my place with something playing in the background. When I can with work and all, I like the beach. ❜  )

But what did he do at Costa Del Sol? Drink, sunbathe, flirt, fuck, dance— oh yeah.

(  ❛ I like going to clubs. Drinking and dancin'. ❜  )

Still, his attention kept drifting to the elevator.

He glanced around the empty lounge, then back again, drumming his fingers once on the armrest before forcing himself to stop. Play it cool, he reminded himself. No need to look like he was counting seconds. He shifted forward instead, elbows on his knees, gaze roaming the room as if something fascinating might suddenly appear. He is just about to take out his phone when the elevator doors slide open again. Zack looked up immediately—then pretended he hadn’t been watching so closely. He pushed himself to his feet, posture straightening on instinct, a bright smile already tugging at his mouth.

For a moment, he allows himself to just stare at Reno, watching him come closer. Zack felt that awareness settle in his chest again, warm and a little fluttery, and he rolled his shoulders to shake it off.

“Hey,” he greeted easily, grin widening when Reno announced he was starving. “Good timing, I’m starving too!”

He fell into step beside him without thinking, long strides matching pace as they headed toward the elevators. The ride down felt strangely quiet, the hum of the machinery filling the space where conversation might’ve gone. Zack rocked back on his heels, hands tucked into his pockets, eyes flicking briefly to the mirrored walls and then away again.

When Reno finally broke the silence with that question, Zack blinked, surprised, before laughing softly.

“Wasted?” He echoed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh… not really? I mean, I’ve had a drink or two. Mostly with the guys after training. But I’m kinda lightweight.”

He smiled, sheepish but honest, glancing sideways with an easy openness that hadn’t dimmed since the desert.

“I’m more of a ‘one beer and a lot of bad jokes’ kind of guy... Guess I like remembering the night the day after… What about you? What is your go-to drink?”

Getting an energetic puppy in uniform ridiculously intoxicated was not a goal of his. It was a question like any other, except Reno disliked the mundane formalities which regular people spat out like saliva. Who cared about the weather. Who cared about what sector someone lived in. Reno was interested in the salacious, the gritty, and certainly the abnormal, whether disgusting or soul probing. Zack Fair was playing game, so he wanted to peel the layers of his extroversion, his embarrassment, his time as a SOLDIER, his— nearly everything which was not commonplace in regular conversation. Reno also had a mental list of the things he assumed about Zack, and it was fun to go through the list and test his theories.

He was also more curious about the SOLDIERs than he would admit, but it was a fascination akin to pulling the legs off a spider and not the desire to befriend. Thoughts of roughhousing, dick measuring contests, and back stabbing circulated on his mind, yet all he witnessed was polite conversation or standard training practice. Surely it was all a front. Reno cocked his head to the side, arched a red eyebrow, and very pointedly eyed the SOLDIER up and down. Body language said it all— you, a lightweight? He thought the rural communities drank the most to erase the misery of farming, mining, and whatever else they devoted their entire lives. Body was re-positioned in its typical casual fashion, and his eyes danced around their sockets as he thought about the question. This time he wasn't viper-tongued and was more like the Reno who spent time with Rude.

(  ❛ I'll drink anything really though I'm not a hops fan. I'll drink a pitcher of beer if it's in front of me, but I won't order it. I like my drinks strong. . . ❜  )

He very nearly went to other places with that one yet continued in a normal tone of voice after picking up his concentration.

(  ❛ Dark and light liquor, shots of 'em, but mixed cocktails are fun. Something tropical. Something creamy. Something coffee-like. Go to though? Shots of vodka, rum, bourbon. ❜  )

The normalcy the Turk donned was dropped with the completion of his rant, and cat-like grin spread wide and easily on his face as if the previous him had been a doppelganger of his.

(  ❛ I like drinking A LOT. I like getting drunk. ❜  )

And this was the part where someone either made assumptions about his liver, or they aimed to get him drunk and . . forgetful. The elevator's hum slowed to eventual silence when the first floor was reached. Smooth and precise. Nothing beat ShinRa technology. Reno had already pushed himself off the wall before the landing and was the first to step through the opened doors. From there it was only a few meters to the front doors. A security guarded nodded to them both. Another security guard and two entering office workers looked at them before quickly looking away. An odd pair they made there was no no doubt especially with Reno in his gym clothes. The Turk walked backwards with a confidence of an idiot or of a man who walked the same route every single day. Clearly it was the latter.

(  ❛ Don't worry that spiky head of yours. I'm not about liquid dinners. We're getting something that'll bring up your body fat percentage. ❜  )

Tongue clicked against the back of his teeth, and turned back around to face forward when smooth slate turned into the brick steps leading to the bullet train. There was no formal station, just a waiting dock with benches and a roof overhang where other ShinRa employees waited for the next train's arrival. Fortunately the trains ran fast, and a distant rumbling announced the next train's arrival before the loud speaker announcement.

(  ❛ Slum food, or something a bit nicer. Y'know, something not wrapped in butchered monster guts? ❜  )

Still, part of him hoped he’d done well enough that they’d keep sending him out on missions—maybe even some with Sephiroth someday. The idea alone made his chest tighten with something like excitement.

Then there it was again—that look from Reno. Sharp. Appraising. Almost predatory. As if he were about to pounce at any moment.

Zack tried to be indifferent about it, head tilting slightly as though trying to figure out whether he should be flattered or worried. Maybe both. He kept telling himself Reno probably looked at everyone like that… but it didn’t stop the shiver that tickled its way down his spine. Not a bad shiver—just one that made him very aware of the Turk’s presence. And maybe a tiny part of him wondered what he’d do if Reno actually did pounce. He told himself he could handle it. Yeah. Probably. Hopefully.

He tried to find a balance between not staring too much and not looking away so quickly that he seemed awkward. The fact that Reno hadn’t blown him off and was actually willing to hang out with him even after their disaster of a mission made Zack’s heart lift in a way he tried very hard to downplay. But it was obvious he was happy. Probably too obvious.

“I don’t mind waiting for you. Don’t have anything else going on today anyway. I’ll just be, uh… over here.”

It was a sick game. Would someone get pissed off, would someone turn to violence? Any reaction was better than apathy. He hated stoic people. People who barely lived a life despite being y'know alive. People more stuck up than Heidegger or old man ShinRa that their shit must have been compacted for more than a month. Funny enough, he ended up liking and being partners with a very stoic man. Rude had been a pain in the ass, then a tough nut to crack, then . . his most trusted co-worker and friend. A challenge he loved because Rude wasn't actually a stick-in-the-mud, and the micro expressions he displayed were almost like secrets that Reno was privy. Rude was the exception, and Zack's reactions were the goal. Just how far could Reno push him? Ahhh, it was fun.

(  ❛ Don't fill up on snacks. I won't be gone too long. ❜  )

Reno gestured, too, before turning for the elevator which took him down to the training floor where his locker was located. Truth be told, he did put more hurry in his movements than he normally would have. He was hungry and dirty, but he was also excited to continue playing around with the pup. So, needless to say, once he was at the locker room, Reno stripped down and took enough of a shower to clean the sweat, grime, and sand of of him. It wasn't much considering the desert rain did some of the work, but he still scrubbed, jumped out, dried, and dressed himself in his clean set of training clothes.

His hair was left untouched because that would've been a whole damn thing. He was still a little damp but hey, he had a date. Deodorant and one spritz of cologne, and Reno was jogging back to the elevators. He never wore his gym clothes out of the training room, so it was a little odd— clad in compression leggings, shorts, long sleeve ( and skin tight ) shirt, and training shoes all in shades of charcoal grey and black. He found Zack right where he left him. With fingers brushing through red spikes that definitely needed some care, Reno casually marched up to the SOLDIER with a smirk twisting his lips.

(  ❛ Alright, I'm starving. ❜  )

Let's go, boy very nearly flew out of his lips, but Reno played . . nice. He gestured Zack to follow him though the SOLDIER needed no guidance to elevators he was surely familiar with. The Turk watched the city lights dance off the glass of the elevator and the way it reflected off Zack's body as well. Not half way down Reno cut the silence with a probing question and more a probing gaze.

(  ❛ Ever get wasted on your free time? ❜  )

He was fully prepared for Reno to brush him off—maybe with a laugh, maybe with an insult—but when the redhead tossed back an easy sure, Zack’s eyes flew wide. His head snapped toward him so fast it might’ve counted as its own injury. A stunned blink, then a bright grin bloomed across his face, surprise tucked behind it as best he could manage.

It wasn’t that Zack liked everyone—he didn’t. But he did tend to get along with most people. One of his fellow SOLDIERs once called him “annoyingly charming,” and honestly? Zack couldn’t even argue. He liked making people laugh, liked cheering them up, liked easing tension even when he was exhausted or hurting. People who hated fun tended to hate him, but that was their problem.

Reno, though… Reno was different. Playful, but sharp-edged. Reckless, but deliberate. Comfortable in chaos in a way Zack had never seen. Maybe that was what intrigued him so much. Or maybe it was the fact that Reno was one of the single most gorgeous men Zack had ever seen… second only to Sephiroth, and barely at that. Zack quickly brushes those thoughts away like pesky flies.

When the helicopter finally landed, Zack was the first to hop off, boots hitting the pavement with a relieved thud. He didn’t even get the chance to toss another word Reno’s way before he was herded off for a full medical check. Thankfully, his injuries were minor. A few cuts, some scrapes, a bruise forming along his rib, but nothing major. They cleaned him up fast, gave him a hot shower, and a change of comfortable lounge clothes. The moment he was cleared, he was out the door, hair still damp, determined to track down Reno and make sure he was okay. Burgers could wait if the Turk wasn’t up for it.

He didn’t expect to be found first.

At the sound of Reno’s voice behind him, Zack jolted like a puppy caught stealing from the kitchen counter.

“Yeah! And you? Feeling better?” 

He asked, instinctively flashing a grin as he turned, giving the redhead a quick but thorough once-over. Shifting his weight, fingers brushing the back of his neck.

 “Still up for that burger and, uh…that shot?”

Eyes of a trained operative. Eyes of a killer. Eyes of a flirt didn't mess a single thing, so his mind to himself, and such a self-assessment was validating when he did pick up a little behaviour. Had the SOLDIER actually planned on leaving without Reno, if so why did it look like he was roaming the halls? As much as Reno wanted to get inside the other man's head, he allowed his thoughts to come down to a simmer. You don't need to overanalyze everything. He shoved his hands inside the clean pockets of the sweats he was wearing and was reminded he was both without underwear and without a shower, while the the optimistic SOLDIER looked fresh in several ways.

Maybe he didn't get his ass chewed out for the failure of the mission and would he? Reno merely assumed SOLDIER, what with being headed by Sephiroth, would be a strict circle jerk of power and accomplishment. They were alive and home, so he discarded thoughts of his own incoming punishment and redirecting his train of thought toward the positive. Puppy dog smiles and liquor — the positive, apparently. It was humorous considering how anti animals Reno was; a fact that would surely surface after a few shots of anything alcoholic entered his system. Reno's fingers moved through red spikes which certainly lacked their usual luster. Being in the ShinRa building without his trademark goggles attached to his head felt odd as well.

(  ❛ Could use a massage and a trip to the spa but much better, yeah. ❜  )

He decided not to be weird and answered plainly. Of course for Reno, even plain speech was peppered with his casual, almost effortless state of existing. Again those turquoise eyes zoomed in on all of those little mannerism which made Zack Fair Zack, as Reno came to know. Why the need to look away as colour stained his cheeks he had no idea. It was suddenly depressing that such an innocent person could get mixed up with ShinRa and the SOLDIER program of all things. Reno breathed out loudly and unconsciously scratched his dick through the pocket of the sweats.

(  ❛ I didn't get the chance to shower or anythin'. This ain't even mine. Mind waiting for me to clean up? I don't care if ya' just want to go though. Up to you. ❜  )

Reno did get impatient when he was hungry or frustrated or any time. Cleaning up meant going down to the locker room of the gymnasium, and Reno was fucking hungry and tired. The sweat suit he was wearing wasn't entirely dorky, but he did feel off wearing clothes that weren't his own. Boring grey on grey as if he was the poster boy for ShinRA. HA! Reno of all people, imagine! The redhead clicked his tongue against his teeth and waited.