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At the table sat six Turks: Rude, who had organized the bi-weekly game of poker; Tifa, Rude’s partner; Barret, who loved any chance to hang out with his more interesting coworkers; Aerith, who had the world’s worst poker face, but also the most weed; Reno, who had invited himself along; and Cid, who frequently cleaned house as a reformed alcoholic and slight gambling addict.
Rude and Tifa had a slight edge over the others in their sunglasses settled in place over their noses, but Tifa had a weakness. She, much like Reno, was a shameless flirt with most. Her flirtations with Rude were more “bland and over the top” to make the others assume the two were sleeping together — Reno was sure that they must have been, because it would have been a waste otherwise — but occasionally she would giggle at something Aerith said, or lick her lips in Reno’s direction, or, rarely, nudge Barret’s boot with her own.
That one was the dirtiest trick, since it only served to break Barret’s already very bad poker face. It wasn’t his fault; he was used to his partner, Tseng, handling all the disinterested stoicism. Barret was big and brash, dammit, and it was hard to deal with the friendly affection from Tifa.
“Surprise! I fold,” Aerith said, tossing her cards on the table. She kept having to shove her oversized jacket sleeves up to her elbows, showing off slim arms with chunky, materia-filled bangles jingling on her wrists. She blew her long brown bangs out of her eyes in defeat, side-eyeing her shrinking pile of chips. In a voice that bled manufactured innocence, she pouted, “I’m starting to think you shouldn’t have invited me, Tifa.”
“Oh, but you’re the most important person here,” Tifa said, and looked down her nose at Aerith, red eyes peering over those slim sunglasses. “My piggy bank.”
Aerith’s full-on nervous giggle was one more win for Tifa’s flirting strategy.
Reno let out a long whistle. “Get a room, already.”
Cid snorted, waiting for the others to make their bets. “What are you, gay? I wanna see that shit play out.”
“Cid!” Aerith said, sticking her tongue out. She glanced back at Tifa, who winked at her. Aerith’s blush grew more pink.
“Only on days that end in Y, and sometimes not on those days, too.” Reno rolled his eyes and threw chips in the pile. “Give me ten minutes with you and I’ll show you the light.”
“I’ll stick to the dark, thanks,” Cid coughed, taking a long drag on his cigarette.
“Both of y’all are nasty,” Barret muttered, throwing chips in. “Can’t we just play the damn game?” He’d removed his tie and his gun prosthetic, opting for the hand he could at least use to hold his cards while his left was free to drink the low-quality scotch Tifa had brought along and fiddle with his chips. Second to Rude, he looked the most cleaned up, with his charcoal suit vest shaping his broad form.
“Fold,” Rude said quietly, tossing his cards down. He was the master of the poker face: impassive, cool. Reno itched to hang out with him more and find out how to make him lose his cool. Or at least dish the dirty details about how heavy Tifa’s tits were.
Cid dealt out the next round of cards, and Reno couldn’t help the boisterous swear that fell from his lips as he threw his cards down. Tifa and Barret looked at each other, the tension building.
“Don’t you try that footsie thing again,” Barret said, big brown eyes narrowing in on Tifa, who barely stifled a smile. Barret huffed, and Tifa found herself blushing. Barret began to sweat.
“Rude, are you not satisfying this chick at home?” Reno moaned, pushing away from the table. “Fuck’s sake, woman.” He stood up to refill his drink. Rude just grunted.
“Bets, fuckheads,” Cid said, and watched as Barret threw more chips on.
“Raise.”
Tifa considered this, and met the bet. Cid did as well. The three laid their cards down.
Cid whooped as he pulled the pile of chips toward him. “Come to daddy, sweet stuff.”
Barret sighed into his scotch, eyes glancing across the table to catch Tifa’s again, but she had already lost interest, laughing at Reno throwing himself back into his chair. “How the fuck do you keep winning, old man!?”
Cid stubbed out his cigarette and grinned. “I know when to hold ‘em and—”
“And when to fold ‘em,” everyone else chorused mockingly. Cid looked taken aback as they all laughed, and Reno snatched the cards out of Cid’s hands to shuffle.
“I’m dealin’ this round,” Reno barked. “Cheatin’ ass old mechanic.”
“I have a feeling this will be my last game,” Aerith sighed and pulled out a pink and yellow pencil case covered in flowers. “You’re cleaning me out!”
“All it took was to take your money before you give us the goods?” Reno asked, and then elbowed Tifa. “You’re right, she’s definitely the most important girl here.”
Aerith giggled as she popped open the case, revealing a finely crafted blunt with a handsome twist and a cardstock filter. “I want to be able to play a little bit first, jeez.” Within the pencil case was a black lighter covered in a soft green aurora. There was something blasphemous about using a lifestream lighter, but only she was a real believer, anyway. She lit it before picking up her cards and coughed hard as smoke came out of her nose. Despite the choking cough, she still tossed a bet in with a little prim smile on her face.
“Atta girl,” Rude murmured, patting her back. She handed him the blunt, and he took it with practiced grace. “You get real aggressive when you smoke and play.”
Aerith grinned. “I’m real aggressive all the time!”
“Aggressively annoying,” Reno said, and stuck his tongue out at her.
She stuck her tongue out at him back.
“Can we please,” Barret sighed.
Rude placed the swisher into Tifa’s lips and put his bet down. “Barret’s right,” he said calmly. “You’re both aggressively annoying. Don’t fight about it.”
Reno was the one who looked offended; Aerith let her head fall back and give a full belly laugh. “You’re my favorite mean person, Rude,” she giggled. She reached in to the pile of nuts sitting in the middle of the table and threw a cashew at Barret. “You’re my favorite not mean person, Barret.”
Barret had the good sense to look pleased by this, and he ate the nut.
Tifa only took a short inhale before giving it to Reno who had been making impatient grabbing hands at her sides. “I almost feel slighted,” she hummed, and folded her cards.
“What, ‘cause the world’s most bubbly bitch didn’t call you mean?” Reno said, a heavy cloud of smoke slipping past his lips. His eyes immediately shrank.
“You thinking about my bubbles, Reno?” Aerith said, her smile widening into something darker.
Aerith had this thing. She was very sweet and slight, but there was something about her that had turned her into a cut-throat Turk. There was some kind of aura that wrapped around her, giving her the air of sweetness until she turned. Then she oozed the energy of corrupt materia. It was terrifying. Only Sephiroth compared when she got like that, and no one could explain where that shit came from. The Turk’s very own terrifying Siren, and she was directing that energy directly at Reno.
“Shit, no,” Reno said, a hot shiver of interest moving down his spine. Crazy witch.
Barret took the dutch from him, happy to stay quiet at that moment.
“Shiva on a shitpile, all of you need to just fuck each other,” Cid said, rolling his eyes as he pulled out another cigarette. He politely refused the weed, passing it back to Aerith. “Get it out of your goddamn systems.”
Every single one of them made a face that looked like they had definitely just been considering the thought, though Barret’s face quickly changed to neutral the fastest.
Aerith lost the rest of her chips, but made up for them by opening an actual bag of potato chips. The rest of the evening passed smoothly, with Barret leaving first (he was always eager to get home to his daughter and relieve his nanny), and then Aerith admitting she was going to pass out if she didn’t get up and make her way home soon. Tifa had jumped at the opportunity to walk her home; the flirtation notwithstanding, the two got along very well as friends.
That left Rude, a little slower on the uptake than usual, with an arm under Reno’s shoulders as they carefully traipsed out of Cid’s deteriorating but roomy home. “Night, Highwind,” Rude said, and Cid simply saluted before slamming the door in their faces.
“You don’t hafta carry me, I’m not that fucked up,” Reno said, pushing himself away to take his own waddling steps forward.
He was lucky when Rude caught him by his suit jacket before he fell on his face.
“Not a word,” Reno grumbled, and he could have sworn he saw Rude’s mouth twitch in amusement.
“You’re my superior,” Rude rumbled easily, and slid his arm around Reno’s shoulder to steady him. “I’ve never seen you take a misstep in my life.”
Reno had fallen into Rude’s side, and he thought he had inhaled that smoky cologne scent, but the next morning, he couldn’t remember a thing. Like an idiot.