40s, a Finnish wannabe artist & writer with a penchant for epic adventures. 🎮 Favorites include Final Fantasy VII, Dragon Age Inquisition, Mass Effect, Skyrim and Baldur's Gate 3. Exploring worlds, one story at a time.
Summary: The Turks spend the evening at 7th Heaven, and once again, Reno can't take his eyes off Tifa's perfect body. This time he decides to fulfill a long-time dream and finally get what he wants.
CW: Reno's shameless male gaze
Translated from the original Finnish version.
Written for @marikamalia.
"Have Lockhart's bazookas got even bigger?" Reno's question was never answered, but instead, he received a glare from Elena and a remark about his attitude.
"Huh?” Reno drained his whisky. “I love women in every possible way."
Lockhart worked behind the bar as usual. Sometimes it seemed as if she knew the next customer's order before they had even voiced it out. The pints were filled, the bottoms of the whisky glasses rattled with ice before the heavenly drink was poured, and the perfect knockers bounced Lockhart's every move. It would have been great to cum between them.
Reno leaned back in his chair and raised the pint to his lips. Nowhere was the beer as good as in the 7th Heaven. Where did Lockhart order it? Had she secretly started her own brewery? The thought brought a grin to Reno’s lips and the beer guttered toward his lungs, making him wince.
"Damn it, Reno," Elena snorted. "Can you be any more disgusting?"
Tseng was as expressionless as ever but set his pint on the table and glanced at the coughing Reno.
One of Rude's eyebrows rose slightly. The gesture was likely to be noticed by no one but Reno, who over the years had trained himself to notice his partner's every micro-expression.
Reno had just finished coughing when Lockhart sailed over to the table to collect the empty glasses. burgundy eyes gave Reno a look that made his stomach churn. Jest aside, the woman made his heart race with her mere presence, but she was as unattainable as the moon. Although there was a persistent rumor in Edge - okay, Rude had said it once - that Strife and Lockhart were no longer together, Lockhart had reportedly not warmed to anyone's attempts toward her. Reno had seen how deftly she'd shooed the candidates out of her sight and, if necessary, thrown them out of the bar with her bare hands.
On the other hand, that wouldn't have been a bad option either, at least it would have given him a chance to get up close and personal for a while. A stiff fist would probably leave a sore jaw, but that was a price Reno was willing to pay.
"Are you okay?" A soft, friendly voice. Customer service clearly. Reno knew the Avalanche still didn't look kindly on the Turks, yet Lockhart leaned in. "It looked like you were choking on that ale."
“…m fine…” Reno wasn't usually at a loss for words in any situation, but now such a moment had come close.
"Good. It would have been unfortunate if anything had happened.” Lockhart smiled in a way that made Reno’s heart rate take a rapid turn. Fuck.
“Bring me one more.” He raised his pint.
Lockhart nodded and continued to collect glasses from the other tables. A short black miniskirt barely covered her backside. There was an area between its skirt and the over-the-knee socks that made you want to grab her thighs. With her hips still swaying with each step, Reno was finally forced to look away for a moment. Gotta-Get-Laid-beer and Lockhart were a hazardous combination.
The evening went as usual. When the last call came Reno wasn't sure how many beers he'd downed. Tseng and Elena had sneaked away earlier, and even Rude hadn't stayed in the bar through all night, announcing that he was going home. He had even offered a ride, but Reno had refused. This would be his night. Tonight, he would find himself either plowing Lockhart or on the street in front of the bar, depending on her compliance.
The last customers roamed out just before the bar closed. Reno emptied his pint and slammed it on the table in a way that made Lockhart flinch. Had she even noticed that Reno was still sitting in the corner?
"We're closing for the night." Lockhart grabbed the handle of the pint.
Reno placed her hand on Lockhart's wrist and made the woman stop. Burgundy eyes met his gaze, and her lips parted in a silent question. Damn, it would be great to stick a tongue between them and maybe something else too.
Lockhart pulled her hand from Reno's grip and hurried to take the pint to wash. Reno hauled himself out of his chair and staggered towards the table. Damn, the level of drunkenness was higher than he'd thought. He should have taken that offer of the ride.
Reno wobbled towards the door. Shit, he hadn't spent the whole evening in this taproom for nothing. As he turned around, he was greeted with arms crossed under the bouncy twins and a stare that could pierce his brain.
"That's a waste." The words slipped out before Reno could stop himself.
“What’s a waste?” Genuine confusion rounded Lockhart’s lips. Or was it genuine? Perhaps it was a deliberate attempt to tempt Reno because surely Lockhart could read any man like an open online forum.
Reno’s mind felt sticky. There must be a way to save the situation. Yes, even Reno knew you couldn’t just say whatever to a woman’s face. A certain amount of subtleness combined with a slight lewdness was needed. The trick was not to cross an indefinite line.
Lockhart lifted a brow. “Hiding your bazookas behind your arms perhaps?”
Shit. How good was her hearing?
"Should I call you a taxi?" Lockhart continued before Reno could respond.
"I do it on my own.”
"Good. You know your way out, don't you?" Lockhart turned her back, walked behind the counter, and dampened a tablecloth, which she began to use to wipe the surfaces. The said chichis jiggled with the force of the motion, causing an unbearable ache in Reno's crotch.
"The door is behind your back." Lockhart didn’t bother to look at Reno.
"How about offering me a place to stay?"
Now Lockhart straightened up. Reno looked her straight in the eye and let his signature smirk curl on his face – at least he thought he was doing that. The one that made the nightclub chicks go wild. The I-know-I-look-fuckable-smirk.
Lockhart strolled across the room. Her journey seemed to take forever, and Reno didn't know whether he'd rather be looking at the tight top covering her hooters or her deliciously well-formed hips.
Reno made sure his grin widened as Lockhart stopped in front of him. Burgundy was unwavering. It dug in and left a lasting imprint on something people usually called the soul. Not that Reno was sure if he had such a thing. But he had, Lockhart was free to carve anything on it.
Lockhart raised both hands, and Reno's gaze instinctively dropped a couple of notches as huge hooters were finally within touching distance. However, he didn't have time even to hook his fingers as cool water trickled into his hair and down his face.
Lockhart dropped the tablecloth on the floor, grabbed Reno's coat collar with a grip quicker than his gaze, and dragged him toward the door. She managed to push it open, and Reno plunged into Edge's night. The street stuffed his cheek, leaving a mark he could wear with pride.
Footsteps pounded down the stairs until the crimson combat boots stopped at Reno's face. Another tug on the collar of his jacket forced Reno back to his feet. Unable to focus his gaze, Reno could only stare at two pairs of burgundy orbs that drilled through him, until the view became clearer, and eyes melted into just one pair.
"There are often taxis leaving from that street corner." Lockhart released her grasp on Reno's jacket. She took hold of his chin, pushed closer, and suddenly soft lips brushed Reno's cheek. The kiss felt all the way to his groin, though it was too quick.
"Damn it, Lockhart..."
"Ask me again when you're sober and have offered me at least three coffees somewhere other than my own bar." Lockhart turned, marched up the stairs, and slammed the door behind her.
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