Rin was trying his best to remain patient, but it seemed as if Nooj remained -- surprisingly -- a novice once the tables had been turned.

In all their years of acquaintance, the Youth League commander had never really sought to change their strange relationship. He preferred to speak about it as little as possible; their encounters were sporadic, and Rin had to secretly admit that he enjoyed the tension that simmered like an electrical charge during each meeting. Old history lay like a battlefield trench between them. Nooj always preferred to look away, to retreat from the fingers stroking the seams of his pants, to close his eyes when Rin pulled him near.

Rin, with an Al Bhed’s sense of vengeance, kept his eyes open.

The initial suggestion had been met with an uncomfortable silence, but Rin had insisted, coaxing the reluctant man with various promises. Most of them were forgotten as quickly as they had been made, but the soothing words had the intended effect, until finally Nooj pushed back his chair with a frown and nodded towards the bedroom door.

Whereupon Rin promptly discovered that Nooj had never really paid attention to the details of what they had done together.

Fingers slipped on his leg, leaving behind a smear of gel along with a grumbled, “Sorry.” Rin rolled his eyes as he counted the fraying threads of the sheets. It had been a long day filled with various appointments, and at this rate, Rin would fall asleep first.

In some ways, it was charming: Nooj awkward, almost gentle as he tried to maneuver himself properly, bracing his metal leg as an afterthought along the side of the bed. All the same, Rin was beginning to seriously doubt the wisdom of offering Nooj a chance to experiment with dominance in their private escapades.

"Listen," he began to suggest, an equally clumsy attempt to get them both off the bed and maybe even just skip sex in favor of dinner at this rate, "if you would prefer, I -- ah."

Cold fingers finished their wandering route along the back of his leg, pressing suddenly inside him with a demand that caught him by surprise. Rin's muscles clenched involuntarily; he turned his face to bury the sound of protest into the pillow, counting down numbers from ten to one in a reminder to relax.

At the motion, Nooj's hand stopped. "Are you," he began, and then the man cleared his throat. "Is this..."

Rin clenched his teeth. Of all the times for the Youth League commander to hesitate, doing so with two fingers in a very uncomfortable location was not one the Al Bhed would have chosen. "It... it is fine," he managed. Ten to one, one to ten, came the steady tallies, until finally his fists gingerly released their cat-claw grip on the sheets. "I was... surprised. Also, you could have thought to warm your hand first."

A grunt. "Sorry."

"No, you are not."

Nooj's response was a low chuckle, and then his hand began to move once more -- slow presses, as if the Al Bhed were a map to be read by the blind, in a room fed by the scent of black tea and motor oil.

Despite their past experiences together, the man was still new to his task. It showed; Rin attempted a soft groan when his fingers brushed the right spot, but Nooj did not take the hint, and Rin resorted to counting out the sum of his patience as he waited.

It will be worth it, he reminded himself, even as he felt the hitch of his breath catch when Nooj resettled his wrist, and changed the angle. The final results will be more than satisfactory.

Several minutes went by before the Youth League commander seemed to gain confidence; his touch changed from hesitant to firm, sliding into Rin with a steady rhythm. The Al Bhed found his muscles easing despite his initial fears, even as he realized that he begun to breathe through his mouth in shallow gasps, body limp upon the sheets.

When Nooj's hand slowed, Rin pulled himself out of his daze long enough to register the next word.

"Ready?"

He had no time to answer before Nooj was forcing himself inside. Metal fingers were on his hip, gripping him in place; he felt himself tugged back into Nooj's lap, even as the other man thrust forward without waiting for permission.

Rin bore through it with gritted teeth, willing himself not to jerk away. I will have to remind him of the difference between two fingers and more, he thought in distraction, fighting to keep his breathing steady, listening for the soft groans of the other man. Discipline helped to lift him away from the pain. All Rin had to do was endure a little more -- a little longer, and then enjoyment would come.

When at last Nooj had pressed himself entirely inside Rin, leaning down to steady his weight, the Al Bhed spoke:

"Oh, Noojie-Woojie," he blurted, howling the nickname with as much passion as he could muster. "Take me hard!"