Work Text:
“Damnit, all they have left is freakin’ vanilla.” Rude hears his partner grumbling in annoyance as he kicks their office door open and saunters on in. He looks up from his computer and the last mission report he’s been working on and frowns when he notices yet another one of the protein shake/meal replacements from the vending machine in his hand. Reno cracks the cap off with the snap of its plastic ring and quickly downs half the bottle in one long chug, grimacing slightly at the taste when he comes back for air and resumes his own work.
It’s the fourth one Rude’s seen Reno down in the past two days, for breakfast and lunch, though he has a feeling his dinner choices haven’t been much better. Rude decides to keep tapping away at his own report for a few minutes, the sound of keys clacking only interrupted by the occasional sound of sipping.
Eventually Rude deems enough time has passed for his question to sound as naturally casual as he can get it, “Catch the next episode of that show you’ve been talking about last night?”
“Huh? Oh, you mean that new thriller? Nah, had to stay late, finish up the armory inventory for Tseng so he can finally get that order placed.” Reno answers nonchalantly, not pausing in his work for longer than a second.
Well that really confirms Rude’s suspicions now, if the constant flow of vending machine shakes and the smell of that plasticky Shinra-branded shampoo, a permanent feature of the locker room showers, that’s now overpowering Reno’s usual citrus-scented smell weren’t already bright enough red flags.
Rude doesn’t say anything else, because quite frankly he’s in no mood for a fight and has what he thinks will be a far calmer solution to this situation. Once he’s done with his current page he saves his work, gets up from his seat, and tells Reno he’s heading down to the café. The only acknowledgement he gets is a grunt and slight nod, Reno now gnawing away on the end of his poor pen as his eye’s remain glued to his computer screen.
Out in the hallway, Rude ends up running into Elena, who’s apparently also headed her way down to the Shinra’s employee private cafeteria, and she asks Rude if he wants to walk down with her. He agrees, and they set off. She rambles most of the way down about her last training scores, Rude nodding here and there with the occasional bit of advice as they make their way into the massive blue and white-tiled room, dozens of tables and all kinds of different of food options, from Midgar staples to ‘authentic’ Wutai and Costan dishes that always has Rude rolling his eyes at the sight of. The two of them slide into the thankfully short service line and quickly place their orders, two orders of tonkotsu ramen for Rude and one order of sea bream ramen for Elena. Rude gently declines her invitation to sit together as he gathers his two trays up, and she says she understands. But then, just before they part ways, she gets this look in her eye, bites at her lip, and just barely leans over so only he can hear her quiet words, “He was already in the gym when I got there this morning for my assessment, at 5:30. I tried talking to him, but he told me he was fine and to just focus on my own training.”
Rude tells her thanks and leaves her to enjoy her meal in peace, heading out of the cafeteria and back towards the elevator with his own trays in hand. He stops by the vending machines to grab a bottle of green and a bottle of melon soda, resisting the urge to glare at the machine next to him that sells those damn shakes, and heads by into his and Reno’s office. When he enters, he’s not shocked to see that Reno hasn’t moved in the half hour Rude’s been gone.
He sets one of the tray down on the table next to Reno. No response at all this time. He gives him thirty more seconds before Rude reaches over for a discarded magazine, rolls it up tightly, and then whacks Reno on the head with it, the smack of the glossy cover finally interrupting all that damn clacking.
But Reno obviously isn’t happy about (and worryingly not expecting) the smack or sudden interruption, as he almost jumps right out of his chair and lands back on the seat with a pretty mighty scowl aimed right at Rude, “The hell Aibou?!?! If you've got something to say then fuckin’ say it!”
Oh, there’s a whole lot Rude wants to say right now, but he goes for the easiest path for now, “Lunchtime. Give me a hand or I’m not sharing the dumplings.” Rude says, brokering no room for argument in his tone. Reno finally looks over at the tray he’s set down and sneers at it first before turning his gaze to Rude, instigating a stare-down with his partner for a solid minute. But Rude stays firm, in part thanks to his glasses, and eventually Reno shoulders drop as he finally relents, muttering angrily as he pushes his chair away from his desk, snatches the tray up, and follows behind an already moving Rude who leads them out onto their floor’s balcony.
“You know I already ate.” Reno tries to argue, his best defense as he and Rude set their trays on a random closer to the balcony’s edge, the cloudy weather making it hard to see the rest of Midgar stretching out down below. They’re completely alone out here, as is always the case since there’s now only four of them left to work on this entire floor. The slight bit of wear and rust on their table, that would never be permitted on those downstairs, is a testament to that.
“I think your body will forgive you this time,” Rude answers, his tone a bit softer than earlier, and slides the plate of vegetable dumplings over so that they’re easier for Reno to reach as well as the bottle of melon soda he bought from him earlier.
Rude wastes no time digging into his own food, it is still lunchtime after all, though for Reno it’s not quite as quick and simple of a process. He swirls his spoon around his own ramen for a bit, dunking the pork beneath the broth like he’s trying to kill it a second time and occasionally taking a sip of his soda. Rude starts to worry that he’ll have to prod at him even more, the last thing he wants is to push his partner too far and for Reno to run off to Gaia-knows where. But it doesn’t help that the longer Rude looks at him, the darker the circles under his eyes look, the dingier he hair seems to have gotten these past few days as the darker roots have slowly become more visible. He intentionally tap and tangles their ankles together, at least that brings a slightly exasperated smile onto the redhead’s face.
Thankfully something eventually gives, and Reno finally leans over to stab at one of the dumplings with his chopsticks, picking it up with apprehension in his eyes before biting down on it. It’s like a switch has been flicked back upright in his brain. Reno sits up a little straighter and more and more life returns to his eyes as he chews on the dumpling. He pops the rest into his mouth and starts to go to town on the ramen in front of him, digging in with gusto, and Rude internally sighs in relief.
By the end of their meal Reno’s polished off his entire bowl, broth and all, and eaten way more than his fair share of the dumplings, but Rude doesn’t say a thing about it even when Reno leans over the table, in the middle of a story about some guy doing something stupid at one of the nightclubs his frequents, to snatch one of the leftover pieces of pork from Rude’s bowl to put in his own mouth. It’s a move right out of the countless nights they’ve spent sprawled out on the couch together, some B-rated horror movie playing out on the TV with cartons of take-out and bottles of beer strewn across the coffee table and their laps. Reno is notorious for mooching off of anything that’s not on his own plate, even deploying downright dirty tactics like distracting Rude with a kiss or hand on his knee so he can steal a piece of chicken or broccoli.
They talk about everything and nothing for a while, with Reno doing most of the talking with Rude nodding and speaking up at all the right moments, something he’s always felt so comfortable doing with Reno. He checks his phone at one point and sees they still have another ten minutes before their ‘break’ is over, so Reno pulls out a pack of cigarettes from his jacket and offers one to Rude. He says yes, grabs the one Reno offers him to stick into his mouth, before leaning over impossibly close to Reno’s face so the redhead can light them up. The cherry glow catches in those bright blue eyes of his, and Rude has to stop himself from getting lost in the little orange sparks reflected back at him.
They puff away for a moment in silence, and then Reno’s sliding his chair closer to Rude’s and drops his head on his shoulder, “Thanks, Rude.” He says, voice sounding muffled both from the fabric of Rude’s jacket and the exhaustion he’s finally starting to let break through his already crumbling façade. Rude takes the cigarette out of his mouth and leans down to press a kiss against his forehead, heart and mind starting to ease when Reno tilts his head back up so he can capture Rude’s lips against his own for a moment as well. It doesn't last for long but the gentle, content-sounding sigh Reno releases when they break if off is as much a balm for Rude's worried mind as it is when Reno lays his head back down on his shoulder.
They don’t say anything else, just enjoy these last few minutes in one another’s presence as time slowly ticks away, their cigarettes turning to ash in their fingers. Rude knows this won’t be the last time something like this happens, just like he knows it won’t be long before Reno’s having to pull him out of his own downward spiral of poor choices too. But the good news is, whenever those moments do pop up once again, they’ll still have someone by their side, ready and willing to help, and in a world like the one they live in right now, neither Reno or Rude could ask for much more.
