“Tseng’ll kill us if he finds out where we went,” Reno cackles, a crooked grin on his lips as he squeezes a dollop of sunscreen into his palm. The Costa del Sol beach stretches around you with its blazing heat. For once, the two of you had a bit of reprieve in between missions, and he’d suggested relaxing in the sand without realizing the issue it presented.

You’re seated in the sand in front of him, back bared to the sun, and Reno’s still trying to pretend like he’s not wildly aware of how little clothing you’re wearing. Normally, you’re unreadable in your three-piece Turk suit—but here, now, he has to swallow once before his hands shakily find your shoulders. “Hope ya’ don’t burn quick,” he mutters to distract himself from the task at hand.