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“I’m bored,” Reno says.
It’s never good news when Reno’s bored. It usually ends with something (or someone) getting blown up, lit up, or fucked up. Not what they need when they’re trying to be discreet.
Reno’s head swivels toward Rude. “Wanna make out?”
Rude keeps one hand on the steering wheel and his eyes on the dive bar they’re surveilling. The car’s engine ticks as it cools; he has the driver’s side window rolled down, letting a light breeze into the stuffy interior. “We’re supposed to be watching for our mark,” he says.
“Yeah, but…” Reno pouts and leans in to rest his elbow on the back of the driver’s seat, one long finger stroking up and down the shell of Rude’s ear. “I’m bored. And he’s not gonna come out right this minute, is he?”
Rude has some professional standards, so he tries to keep it together, but the problem is, Reno knows all his weak spots.
When he turns to tell Reno to cut it out, Reno pounces. Their mouths meet violently. Reno’s sweaty palm cups the back of Rude’s head, and his tongue is hot and wet, sliding obscenely against Rude’s. Rude can’t help it—he closes his eyes and kisses him back. It’s impossible to resist him, impossible not to lose track of time in his arms.
But he’s brought abruptly back to reality when Reno shoves him away.
“Oh, shit!” Reno says, scrabbling for the door handle, nearly falling out of the car as the door swings open. In a haze, Rude realizes their mark has left the dive bar.
By the time he scrambles out of the car after Reno, both of them in a dead run, their mark has already rounded the corner halfway down the street.
...Tseng is gonna kill them.