Work Text:
Usually, I spent my Sundays at dinner with close confidants.
On this particular Sunday, standing drenched from the rain in the glaringly white hallway of the intensive care unit of the best hospital in all of Midgar, I could look into the private room through the security glass. I was not allowed to enter.
In the flat hospital bed, under a half-pulled back blanket, Tseng was connected to several blinking devices. A doctor and two nurses were still tending to him after the emergency surgery. Every few minutes, they would rush into the room to stabilize their patient's condition, and when they left the room, they would cast pitiful or fearful glances my way.
Since my father's death, only a few weeks had passed, so most people were still adjusting to my position as the president of what was likely the most powerful corporation in the world.
A misstep could cost them their position or even their life—my reputation was spreading, and the people were torn between my charisma and the strict regime that left no room for flaws.
Actually, my mind should have been on the upcoming mission: finding the Promised Land to discover the ultimate Mako source and expand the company's influence. However, as soon as I received the news that Tseng was in critical condition, I had canceled all meetings and traveled there immediately.
At the hospital, I realized just how bad the situation was for the Turk. During his mission to scout the Temple of the Ancients along with Elena, Sephiroth himself had interfered. That was all I could find out so far, and my priorities had completely shifted.
Normally, my well-being was of utmost importance to the reserved Wutainese. Now, he laid before me completely defenseless, with pale skin and bloodless lips. I couldn't remember ever having seen him so helpless—even though our paths had first crossed many years ago.
I still vividly remember our first meeting. The potential my father had seen in him remained hidden from me for a while, and I regarded him as just another lapdog under Veld's wing. His foreignness was utterly repulsive to me. Yet, interest sprouted time and again, especially because he rapidly made a name for himself among the Turks.
Suddenly, the stranger represented a conceivable option for my own plans.
Today, my past aversion seemed strange to me because the initial rejection had gradually turned into almost friendly teasing. Tseng took his position within Shinra's hierarchy extremely seriously, yet he was not immune to my calculated charm. Although he could well hide when I threw him off balance, I now found it easy to precisely interpret the slight falter in his composure.
We played with each other, while a bulletproof safeguard still towered between us. I invited him to dinner, only to then ask uncomfortable questions about his private life. He skillfully dodged most questions, but sometimes a nearly diabolical sparkle briefly flashed in his dark eyes, and he turned the tables.
*
"Are you still a virgin?"
I almost choked on the shrimp I was seductively pushing into my mouth to tease my counterpart. Tseng's face remained unchanged as if he had inquired about the weather and nothing more. "Excuse me?"
Tseng folded his hands and looked at me over his wine glass. "I asked if you are still a virgin, Sir."
With a stifled laugh, I tossed the inedible remainder of my shrimp onto the plate and leaned back slightly in the comfortable chair. Around us, almost only couples sat at the tables in the upscale seafood restaurant. Soft violin music played live from a polished stage; the chandeliers cast gentle light on the expensive, dark wood. "Don't you find it a bit impudent to ask me such a thing?" I wanted to know, with a mischievous smile on my lips.
Tseng's thin eyebrows drew together thoughtfully. "If I may... I just thought, if you have such an increased interest in my private relationships, perhaps you yourself lack experience."
Of course, I saw right through him. His question was merely a counterstrike because I had once again inquired about his relationship status and then jokingly suggested that he should simply take out Elena for a dinner. In the office, it was an open secret that the newcomer had a soft spot for her superior and was happy about every mission they shared. Only Tseng himself seemed to deliberately ignore this obviousness. I couldn't imagine that he truly didn't notice it with his keen insight.
"Maybe I just want to make sure you know where your priorities lie?" I smirked at him. "I can't risk my best man going soft because he falls for a little mouse from the slums." I hadn't chosen these words by accident. Reno had once hinted that Tseng had taken a liking to Aerith Gainsborough. For me, it was hard to imagine because, even though I didn't know the flower girl well, she seemed completely unsuitable for him. She lacked discipline, class, and the necessary intellect. Had she not been an integral part of our research, I would have never paid her any attention.
"I can reassure you," he replied seriously. His loyalty was a topic where he definitely didn't appreciate jokes about. Partly, it was due to his vocation, partly to his heritage. In Wutai, principles such as integrity were of utmost importance. Betraying them was like betraying oneself. "Even if I would fall in love with a mouse from the slums, I know my place by your side, Sir. Don't worry about it."
Slightly dissatisfied, I pouted my lower lip because something about his answer didn't sit well with me. And I knew what: Tseng cleared any doubts about his loyalty but avoided denying any feelings for Aerith. "Even if" didn't rule anything out.
With his commencement at Shinra, the Turk had relinquished a host of his rights in exchange for profound duties. However, the contract didn't stipulate that he couldn't start a family – and by now, we were both at an age where society held certain expectations. If children weren't already on the way, then at least a first, serious relationship was anticipated.
In the press, on the other hand, I was known as one of the most eligible bachelors... I had other goals in life than a wife and children, but what were Tseng's goals? I was eager to know how the mysterious man opposite me envisioned his future and whether he truly believed that I would always take precedence.
"Worried?" I arrogantly raised my left eyebrow before bursting into laughter. "You really think you're that important, huh?"
Tseng carefully grasped the neck of his wine glass. The white wine sparkled as it reflected the light. "It's Sunday evening, and we're dining together," he noted with a relaxed simplicity in his velvety voice. "Tell me how important I am to you, Sir."
Instead of getting annoyed with me, he now played his cards to embarrass me. That's how it went every Sunday. We teased each other, Tseng drove me home in the company's polished car, and suddenly we were nothing more than boss and subordinate again when we met in the office on Monday. "Oh, how you crave recognition..." I rolled my eyes theatrically and raised my own glass. We toasted. "If you weren't important to my plans, I would have disposed of you long ago."
"I appreciate that very much, Sir." The corner of his mouth curved slightly upwards.
"Would you like some dessert?" I asked as we sat in the car later that evening.
"I don't eat desserts, Sir." His response, just like every week, was the same.
I chuckled.
*
The staff still denied me any contact with Tseng, so now I stood under the awning in front of the hospital, sliding my second cigarette between my cold lips.
Apparently, the weather continued to match my mood. The grey sky still howled, pouring down a torrent of cold wetness. Every gust of wind made me turn away to protect myself from the cutting raindrops driven in my direction.
"Damn..." This time I didn't manage to act quickly enough, and my cigarette soaked up water – the ember went out immediately. Annoyed, I flicked the stub into the trash can a few meters away from me.
"Nice shot, Boss!"
I spun around and sternly looked at Reno, who was sauntering towards me from the parking lots. In one hand, he held an open umbrella that matched the black suit of his Turk uniform; in the other, he carried an overstuffed backpack. I had asked him over the phone to fetch some things from Tseng's apartment. Clothes to change, hygiene items – Reno had probably just stuffed everything into the bag so I wouldn't send him off again.
"There you finally are."
Reno shrugged casually before setting the backpack down next to me and fishing a cigarette out of his jacket's inner pocket. "Got caught in a total traffic jam." He deeply inhaled the smoke once the cigarette was finally lit. "How's Tseng?"
"He seems to be handling the blood transfusion well. The painkillers are keeping him calm enough..." Reno's facial expression told me he wanted more specifics. "He's over the worst, but he's going to be out of action for a while. Sephiroth did a number on him..."
"Knew it. Tseng's not easily brought down." Grinning, he blew a puff of smoke into the wind. "Elena's gonna be thrilled that her date's only postponed, not cancelled!"
For the first time since I had arrived here, the worry dissipated and gave way to a different feeling: jealousy.
"A date?" I wanted to know casually, pulling the cigarette from between his fingers to take a deep drag myself. The brand he smoked was far less exquisite than my usual choice, but right now any aid for stress relief was welcome.
Somewhat puzzled, Reno waited and then realized that I wouldn't be returning his fag anytime soon, which led him to elaborate on his statement. "Tseng finally asked Elena out for dinner at the Temple." He rolled his eyes. "She couldn't stop talking about it..."
I constantly teased him about finally asking her out, and now the development of their relationship instantly rubbed me the wrong way. Perhaps because I always wanted to hear Tseng say clearly that he had no interest in Aerith or Elena.
Winning was my reality. The Shinra inheritance had recently fallen into my hands, and now I was on the best path to further expanding my power. Soon, Shinra's Mako energy would become indispensable in households worldwide. Even the opposition from Wutai would crumble to dust, and its people could no longer deny the glory of my company.
A single defeat should not scratch my pride.
And yet, now small wrinkles of displeasure furrowed my brow.
Someone wanted to take my toy away, and I did not like it.
*
Reno had dashed off, and I was left standing in front of the hospital room again, like the useless king in a chess game. My hands felt tied, but at least I was allowed into the room as soon as Tseng would open his eyes. This little glimmer of hope kept me awake, even though I hadn't slept for over twenty-four hours.
The dark brew in my cup was passable for hospital coffee. The plump nurse, who flitted into the patient rooms on this floor now and then, had handed me the coffee and a towel, hardly daring to look me in the eyes. Usually, I enjoyed the reverence most people showed me—in this night, though, the restraint was wearing on my nerves.
Not even Reno had asked how I was actually feeling. And I was surprised at how much this whole situation was affecting me. Not even knowing that Tseng was no longer in life-threatening danger truly calmed me. On the outside, I maintained an icy glare, but in reality, for the first time in ages, I was completely on my own.
In battles, Dark Star was always to my right, and infantrymen stood by for backup. When it came to political decisions, I had a whole team of Shinra experts at my disposal. Then there were personal matters; the pressure building up behind my forehead; the stress weighing heavier than a Behemoth on my shoulders...
For that, there were Sundays.
Over the years of our time together, the relationship between Tseng and me had evolved into something more, even if we limited this "more" to just four Sundays a month.
On Sundays, we would go out to eat.
Sometimes, we'd have a short training session beforehand. By now, I might be a better marksman than him, but I learned the basics from him. In many ways, he became my mentor. It wasn't necessarily apparent since he often held back his opinions, yet he knew solutions to atypical problems that helped me out. His life experience seemed to surpass mine in many areas. I believed it brought him an unspoken joy that he could still teach so much to the snob from the upper class. However, we didn't really talk about those Sundays on which he still called me "Sir," but treated me much more like "Rufus."
Despite being lost in thought, I didn't miss the slow lifting of Tseng's eyelids. I didn't bother asking for permission but immediately entered the room where he laid so helplessly. Usually, it was his job to immediately tend to my well-being; now, it seemed, the roles were reversed.
On the small table next to his bed, there was a bottle of water. Before he could express any wish, I filled one of the glasses for him and let him take a big gulp. Normally, his lips appeared as if they would feel soft, but at the moment, they were just chapped. The skin at the corners of his mouth was cracked.
His eyes were closed again, and I already feared that sleep had reclaimed him. Then he spoke with a dry voice. "You're here? Shouldn't you be on your way to the Promised Land?"
My knees felt wobbly somehow. To avoid falling, I pulled a small stool up to the bed and sat down. "There are still some preparations to be made." The words hid half the truth; I wasn't planning on telling him that I had rushed here out of concern – without even once considering what my delay could actually mean. "Besides, I have to scold you."
Tseng looked at me tiredly. "Why the reprimand?"
"You had no orders to confront Sephiroth."
"It was unforeseeable that he would appear in the temple out of nowhere," he defended himself immediately. I could see him trying to sit up, but the pain in his slashed chest prevented him.
"You should have fled…"
"I wanted to gather more information to make our next mission easier."
I felt a bit bad for pressing him even now. But his behavior was uncharacteristic for him. Generally, he made the right decisions spontaneously, without putting himself or his Turk comrades into real danger. "Without you, our next mission would be considerably more difficult."
"Sir, I'm sorry…"
"For once, I will forgive you." Gently, I cut his words off and touched his arm, which laid limply over the blanket. Being exposed to dangers was in the nature of his profession. He was aware of this, and I knew about it too. Until now, this threat had never seemed so close.
Over the years, as my father built his empire, I had seen many people die. The first victim of his machinations had been my mother. All the deceit and intrigue had driven her to suicide. At that time, I hadn't even been ten years old and lacked the understanding to truly grasp the situation.
After her, many others followed.
Under Hojo's supervision in the lab, the human guinea pigs died daily. In SOLDIER, there were certainly missions that required sacrifices, and if someone obstructed Shinra as a whole, these troublemakers disappeared without a trace.
All of this should have prepared me, yet here I sat, feeling the gravity of the situation building an uncomfortable pressure inside me – as reality carved a wide path through my consciousness, rendering me vulnerable.
"You must not die..." I declared. My voice cracked slightly in its firmness.
Languidly, Tseng lifted his arm until his fingers landed in my hair. The gesture was reminiscent of a father trying to cheer up his child – he had never touched me in such a way before. "My place is by your side, Sir... don't worry about that." His hand fell back to the mattress limply, but I could still feel the warmth of his fingertips on my scalp.
"Worry? You're overestimating your importance again..."
He nodded with effort. "I'm also sorry that we couldn't go out to eat this time..."
I clicked my tongue. "I'll keep the Sunday in a month free."
A smile appeared on his face, too, albeit subtly. "I won't disappoint you, Sir."
"I know," I assured him softly.
*
Tseng was officially on leave for a month, but that didn't stop him from constantly answering emails or making calls. Between physiotherapy and pain management, he still found time to issue work plans for the rest of the Turks and remind me of appointments in the calendar.
His absence still left a significant gap in the office. My coffee no longer had the perfect temperature and always had a sip too much or too little skim milk. Rude didn't navigate the route from the Shinra building to my luxury apartment as precisely, so we constantly had to stop at traffic lights, whose timing he just couldn't get right.
Elena sat dejected in front of her computer screen all morning until someone finally handed her a practical task, allowing her to assist in the development of a new explosive.
Reno reveled in the newfound responsibility, but it was clear that the sudden shift in task distribution wasn't always in his interest. He didn't enjoy dealing with filthy rich business partners. (And I didn't like how he sometimes spoke to them.)
"This is unusual, Sir," remarked Tseng, stepping out of the modest loft he had lived in since his hiring at Shinra.
Normally, he would pick me up when we had plans to dine together, but this time I drove up on his drive way in my white private car. I had insisted on this, as I was still not fully convinced of his supposed recovery and wanted to make sure he didn't overexert himself too soon. "A boss can do a favor for his employee now and then," I noted nonchalantly and opened the passenger door for him.
I could imagine how uncomfortable this role reversal must have been for him, but I found myself thoroughly amused by it. Under normal circumstances, Tseng was always the one who acted considerately and selflessly—this gave me a sense of entirely new control.
Despite the remarkable circumstances, our evening went just like the many times before. We enjoyed our meal amidst almost provincial conversations; this time in a restaurant featuring dishes typical of Costa del Sol; and drank wine again. Tseng was meticulous about limiting himself to just half a glass per evening, while I refilled at least once. Since I had to drive today, I stopped at my second glass.
But it had loosened my tongue enough to bring up a topic I had previously avoided. "Elena asked when you're finally coming back to the office." I stared at the bouquet on an unmanned table. Red roses that matched the ambiance, as warm colors were emphasized here. Colors that reminded one of the sunset on the coast of Costa del Sol. "I told her you'll be back next week."
My counterpart absorbed this information in silence. He didn't seem to anticipate where I was going with this conversation.
"So I guess I don't need to keep next Sunday free?"
He looked at me suspiciously. "Why would you think that, Sir?"
My slight grin was feigned. "Elena is still waiting for her date with you."
His sigh sounded almost plaintive. "A date? So that's the idea she got..." Dark auburn sought my gaze. "I wanted to take her out for dinner to have a clarifying conversation," he explained, with pure sincerity in his voice as always. "Reno told me that Elena hopes for a more intimate relationship with me. I intended to let her down gently, to tell her I'm not interested."
"Is that so?" Fortunately, I masked well the relief that bubbled up inside me. "Elena will be disappointed..."
"Did you perhaps worry this time?"
Laughing, I waved it off. "I just can't imagine a relationship between you two."
Immediately, that devilish expression crossed his face again. "Whom do you think I could be in a relationship with, in your opinion?"
Humming, I pulled my wallet from my bag and tucked the due amount, along with a generous tip, into the bill folder that the waiter had slid onto the immaculate tablecloth ten minutes ago. "You're modest when it comes to food, accommodation, and your other possessions," I mused, standing up simultaneously with him. "But your partner has to be someone truly special..." As close as I passed by him, my shoulder briefly brushed his upper arm. "Someone worth dying for..."
The car idled at the curb in front of the loft, and I waited for Tseng to get out.
Silently, he sat on the expensive leather of the heated passenger seat, not moving for an extended moment before he finally spoke. "Would you like some dessert?"
I briefly gripped the steering wheel so tightly that my knuckles turned white—then I responded, trying to sound relaxed. "I love desserts."
*
At that moment, my mind was pleasantly empty. Sephiroth, the Promised Land, Mako energy. None of it managed to find a place in my thoughts. Instead, after we got out of the car, I found myself staring at Tseng's back, following him along the narrow stone path to the entrance of his home.
I had observed him thousands of times, but never with as much care as in this very moment. I noticed how broad his shoulders were, the attractive shape of his body tapering towards his waist. For the first time, I noted how firm his buttocks appeared under the fabric of his suit trousers. And his hair was so shiny, I wanted to reach out, run my fingers through it.
He opened the door and closed it directly behind us. In doing so, he came so close that I could smell his aftershave and, in the dim light of the lamp that had turned on, noticed some razor burn on his chin.
In any other situation, he would have immediately broken off this intimate proximity and apologized for it. This evening, however, he paused and gently placed his knuckles against my cheek. Slowly tracing the contour of my face, he touched my earlobe, sending a hot shiver through my entire body.
Tseng had always been able to read the signs of my body effortlessly. When I was hungry because work was once again more important to me, he brought me a bagel along with my coffee without being asked; and when I was cold, he turned up the floor heating in my office a few degrees.
Now was the time to really put his sensitivity to the test.
Following his knuckles, his warm palm came into contact with my skin. With both hands, he held my face, forcing me to look at him. At that moment, I felt a racing excitement, especially concentrated in my stomach area but rippling in small waves into the rest of my limbs. Secretly, I had been waiting for years for him to touch me – for him to use the body he otherwise employed for destruction, to create something between us.
Finally, Tseng leaned down toward me, savoring the moment before our lips met. Seconds passed during which I could feel his breath directly on my skin. Before I managed to express my impatience, he finally kissed me.
The kiss remained tame only for the fraction of a moment. Soon, I opened my mouth and invited him to a more intense interplay. Boldly, he engaged. Very carefully, his hands slid from my face. Instead of continuing to caress me, he guided me deeper into the living area.
My attention was insufficient to form a decisive impression of his living space. It was my first visit to his personal quarters, yet curiosity was completely displaced by another sensation.
Out of the corner of my eye, I managed to do a superficial check here and there, but details did not stick. I thought I caught a glimpse of a statuette made of blue quartz on a shelf but before I could focus on it, I bumped my knees against the back of his dark gray couch.
Gracefully, I let myself fall onto it and looked up at him. "I don't even get dessert in bed?"
Tseng stripped off his jacket and placed it on the round stool next to the living room table. "Dessert comes in several courses..." His voice, laden with desire, sounded an octave deeper.
Eager for the first course, I leaned back, supporting myself with both hands on the cushion. I intended to use the time it took him to slip out of his shoes and socks to look around a bit. However, his eager mouth soon distracted me. With his fingers, he scratched at my neck, with his lips, he kissed my ear. He had obviously already figured out that I was particularly receptive to touches there.
As he traced my ear with his tongue, I tilted my head slightly to the side to give him better access. His breath, hot against my skin, caused the fine hairs on my arms to stand up. Additionally, the rising erection pressed against the fabric of my underwear.
Although I often exploited my financial and structural advantages, I didn't sleep with many men to explore my sexuality. Shinra was a prominent name, and everyone knew my face from TV or newspapers. Presenting my naked body to strangers not only made me physically vulnerable but also provided them with entirely different means to pressure me. That's why I very rarely engaged in intimate contacts.
I didn't have to harbor such concerns with Tseng, and this certainty made it easier for me to let go. I didn't stop him as he patiently unbuttoned my shirt and reverently exposed my body.
"Do you like what you see?"
Tseng nodded distinctly but chose to express his approval not with words but with actions. I could feel his fingers everywhere on my torso as he seemed to thoroughly explore each centimeter—until his touch was replaced by the tips of his tongue.
I threw my head back as he traced wild paths across my chest with his mouth. When he added teeth to the mix, I moaned and arched towards his attention. There was no need to instruct him on precisely what to do. He confidently navigated to the exact right spots on my body to nibble and suck on.
He seemed to have a particular fondness for my erect nipples, which he initially spared and then greedily captured between his lips. Fiercely, he bit into the pink buds alternately, driving me deeper into madness.
Outside of these Sundays, I was always the one with the upper hand.
Now, he was in a dominant position and took the chance to exploit me in unimaginable ways. On one hand, I wanted him to pamper me just like this for an eternity; on the other, my months of abstinence were almost too much to bear.
The slight pain from the bites turned into a comfortable tingling—it extended to my loin, which seemed about to burst.
"More... just go on." My voice lacked any command, but I was serious.
I could feel his smirk on the nipple he was attending to. "As you wish, Sir..."
I would have liked to scold him for maintaining this inappropriate formality, thus leaving a piece of that invisible wall between us intact. However, I wasn't in the mood for a confrontation. So, I tolerated it for now.
Carefully, he freed me from my leather shoes and socks. It wasn't easy to embarrass me, but Tseng managed to do so when he briefly kissed the top of my bare foot. As a servant might have done for his lord.
Relieved that he presumably couldn't see the pink blush spreading across my face from his angle, I laid back on the couch. This allowed him to slide my pants and underwear down my legs in one smooth motion. Afterward, he carefully placed the garments on the stool. It appeared there was no situation where his propriety didn't take precedence.
Not even now, as he saw his affluent boss completely naked before him. It didn't seem to deter him in the slightest that my arousal was prominently on display, the most evident sign of my desire.
Tseng spread my legs and knelt on the floor in front of the couch. I closed my lids, trying to brace myself against the overwhelming sensation, but I let out a hoarse moan as he resolutely pursued his new target.
Contrary to my assumption, his mouth didn't envelop my throbbing member; instead, he grasped my buttocks and kneaded them. At the same time, he also considerately pulled the round cheeks apart.
The sexual experiences I had accumulated to date were limited but varied. However, I had never allowed a one-night stand to indulge me with that particular method.
Tseng caressed my thighs thoughtfully, as if he could sense my reservations. "Relax, Sir," he almost purred, kissing the curve of my buttocks.
A single word and he would stop. I trusted that the rules in this regard hadn't changed and allowed myself to relax further.
If any doubts had lingered, they evaporated the moment he tenderly kissed my sensitive gateway. Tseng noticed my relaxation and soon quickened the pace of his caresses. With the tip of his tongue, he explored every reachable spot, preparing me for more.
I vocally expressed my pleasure. Unconsciously, I began to move my hips in wave-like motions, which soon became more uncontrollable. Small fireworks exploded in every part of my body, leaving a tingling sensation in every cell. Even in bed, the commanding Turk was selfless and fully attuned to my needs.
I wanted to touch him too.
Impatiently, I grabbed his hair, inadvertently loosening the small hair tie he used to keep some strands out of his face. When he looked up at me, dark locks fell across his face.
"Is everything alright, Sir?"
"I want to touch you too," I panted.
He paused briefly. "Let me enjoy my part of the dessert a little longer."
Without waiting for a response, he buried his face between my legs again, and my unrestrained gasping probably gave him enough confirmation to continue. He mercilessly stimulated my most sensitive area. I never could have imagined it could feel as good as stimulating a penis.
I felt like I was about to climax at any moment.
After agonizing minutes, he abruptly stopped.
My head was spinning, and I blinked at him dizzily.
"Hold on to me."
With great care, he lifted me up. I wrapped both my arms and legs around him and finally managed to absorb a few of the finer details of his furnishings while he carried me to the next room.
The living area was decorated in dark gray tones with black accents. The decor could be described as minimalist and impersonal. There were no pictures of his family or friends anywhere, but there was a painting on the wall. It depicted the mountains in front of Wutai at sunrise. In the background, one could see the city's pagoda.
The bedroom differed in color from the living area and had a traditional Wutainese feel. Lots of red, golden accents on the cherry wood furniture, and a lantern hung from the ceiling of the room, casting the space in an orange light.
Against the wall stood the large double bed with posts that nearly reached the ceiling. The frame was carved with dragon serpents and Komainu, whose detailed work I couldn't make out in the dim light.
Tseng laid me on the mattress and began to undress himself.
"Let me." I sat up and hurriedly unbuttoned his shirt. Even as the fabric slid from his arms, I daringly touched the scar on his chest. "Does it hurt?" I traced the marred tissue absentmindedly. His body was impressive. Forged from extensive training, with old injuries that stood out starkly against the canvas of his skin. Beneath the suit, it wasn't particularly noticeable, but now I could precisely feel his defined muscles.
"Sometimes, but not right now," he admitted. It wasn't easy for him to concede weaknesses, as a Turk was not supposed to have any deficiencies. A misstep could mean the end for me and thus for Shinra.
Resolved, I pressed my lips against the fresh scar. Sephiroth had hit him head-on, leaving an unmistakable devastation, but it was also proof that my most loyal employee knew no fear.
That he would die for me.
I hurriedly went back to undressing him. At first I didn't manage to undo his belt because my fingers were trembling with tension. My inability to do so made me giggle, but in the end I got rid of his trousers.
Only a pair of tight, black retro pants covered his private parts, but they didn't hold anything back from my imagination. Tseng's arousal was clearly visible under the cotton layer and this part of his body also impressed me. "Not bad," I purred, enjoying the fact that I was embarrassing him with my reaction. So, he didn't always manage to keep his flawless mask.
I slipped my thumbs into the waistband of his underwear, but didn't pull them down yet, instead bending down to his crotch. Like a playful kitten, I nestled my face in his lap and smiled because he made a raspy sound and thrust his pelvis a few millimeters towards me.
"I've never seen you this impatient." I peeked up at him mischievously and licked my lips.
Tseng cleared his throat. "I've been longing for a Sunday like this for a very long time, Sir."
I raised my eyebrows in astonishment. "Then why did you always turn down dessert?"
"I guess I had to know I was ready to die for you to be sure."
"Uh-huh..." I was satisfied with that answer, because my thirsty body no longer wanted to practice perseverance. I took off his underpants and immediately pressed my lips to the peak of his desire. I took the humming from the depths of his chest as confirmation and opened my mouth so that I could explore his glans extensively.
His own taste was full-bodied and the deeper I let him slide down my throat, the greater my own desire grew. He expressed his own by placing his hand demandingly on the back of my head to help set the pace. He soon filled my entire throat. It took my breath away in many ways, but I kept him dominating me. He didn't have to back off to give me air - the burning in my lungs only fueled my eagerness.
I sucked on his hot flesh, which kept twitching against my palate. Drops of longing dripped down my throat like bitter honey. Not for a second did I take my ice-blue eyes off of him. We looked deep into each other's eyes and he began to thrust into my mouth. My lips quickly became sore and the corners of my mouth tightened because his full girth was considerably large. His moans merged into me and mine into him.
A vacuum had been created around us and there was nothing on this dying planet but him and me, apart from the scorching heat that was gradually driving sweat from our pores.
Tseng put his hand under my chin and slid to my carotid artery - he squeezed gently. I whimpered in pain and lightning struck me as he cut off my air supply completely. He looked at me mockingly before loosening his grip. He pulled back from the wet mouth and wiped a thread of saliva from my jaw with his thumb.
"Turn around, Sir..." He kissed the corner of my mouth sweetly before I complied with his request and lolling on all fours in front of him. He knelt directly behind me on the red-covered mattress.
He inserted his index and middle finger between my cheeks. The tight opening was still supple from his preparatory work with his tongue and yet Tseng did not fail to stretch me further in preparation. I tried to keep still and show off my stamina, but his skillful handiwork managed to rob me of my ability to think.
He always just missed the sensitive spot inside me on purpose, preferring to spread his fingers to give me an unexpected sensation at irregular intervals. He deliberately played with my strained patience and just waited for my capitulation. I stoically refused to give him anything more than my shaky yips, but my control crumbled with the ticking of the seconds.
"Don't make me wait any longer," I threatened breathlessly.
"Suit yourself, Sir."
I felt hollow on a deeper level as he pulled out of me. How long had I secretly wished that exactly this would happen between us? I had never asked the question about dessert with the prospect of a positive answer. It was just another mean to tease him.
Today he had asked me of his own accord and said that he had been longing for it for some time. Had we been pining for each other for years and never taken the opportunity that presented itself?
His hard dick on my crown brought me back to the present. He pushed his cock into me in stages, making me feel better with every centimeter. I clutched at the silk of the bed sheet, unable to move. Trembling all over, he realized that he had to hold me so that I didn't just collapse under the bliss.
"Are you alright, Sir?" Tseng leaned over me and kissed me between the shoulder blades.
Hastily, I nodded. "Go on."
I didn't have to prompt him twice. With deliberation, he penetrated me deeper, accompanied by a comforting coo. Eventually, he shifted more weight onto me so that our bodies were almost touching at every point. I could feel his chest so clearly against my back that I noticed the excited beat of his heart. Our hearts were in unison - a symphony of our desire.
After a short pause, during which he placed kisses on my head and cheek, he thrust into me in an increasing rhythm. To muffle myself, I buried my face in the first pillow I could get my hands on.
Tseng hadn't even caressed the most receptive part of my body and yet I was dripping more with every thrust. Everything about him felt heavenly. From the strands of his jet-black hair that fell on me like a dark waterfall and tickled me; to his sensual lips that kept sending hot waves from the top of my head to my toes; to his bulging cock, the shape of which seemed made for me. Shuddering, I gave myself to him one hundred percent and experienced for the first time what it really meant to let myself go.
"Tseng..." Pleadingly, his name kept rolling over my lips, like a mantra.
"Sir?" Contrary to the concern in his voice, he didn't stop his pace.
"Don't call me that anymore..." I reached behind me, into his hair, causing him to advance faster. "Say my name."
"Sir, I..."
Choppily, I gasped, colors dancing before my eyes. "Call me Rufus, Tseng. Please."
"Rufus..." He breathed my name softly. He slid his right hand under my body and finally touched my throbbing penis. Not a second later, he rubbed my erection in unison with his hip movement.
Everything revolved around me and the dancing colors blurred before my eyes into a whole sea of colorfulness.
"Rufus."
I wriggled under him without restraint. Our sweat mingled, it was no longer possible to tell where his body began and mine ended.
"Rufus."
Unexpectedly, the vacuum around us exploded violently and I found myself in free fall. Myriad trains of thought flowed through me, none of which I could grasp. I was falling far too fast for that. So fast that I felt dizzy. Like a never-ending rollercoaster ride. Adrenaline rushed through my veins and my blood boiled.
Tseng lifted the veil of my climax with tentative bites into my neck. The rampant spasming on my part had also brought him to orgasm. I felt his hot semen inside me intensely as he rolled off me and onto his back.
Exhausted, I laid next to him and just stared into nothingness.
Sex with Tseng hadn't been on my agenda that morning...
"Come to my side... Rufus."
I followed his words.
Our lips met in an orgiastic kiss.
*
One-night stands never had the privilege of spending the whole night with me, Tseng's opportunity was different. We'd had our dessert and we didn't part ways after that.
Now it was Monday. Every other Monday actually meant that we slipped back into our usual roles. Boss and employee; master and servant. But today wasn't every other Monday.
The red curtains with the gold-colored cords were drawn except for a small gap. A narrow strip of light stretched through the bedroom. To my right in the bed was a hollow that was still warm and from the next room I could hear the gurgling of the coffee machine.
We were already too late to get to the company building on time. Unusual for me, normally unthinkable for Tseng. Only reluctantly had he allowed himself to be persuaded to spend the morning in bed with me.
Tseng balanced a tray through the door. Freshly cut fruit, fanned-out slices of avocado, yogurt and toppings for the toast were on it. My amazement, however, was directed at his body. Apart from a pair of black jogging bottoms, he was wearing nothing. A sight I could get used to.
But was it also a view that I was entitled to from now on?
I hadn't anticipated anything that had happened, which is why the initial situation seemed strange.
We sat next to each other in bed and ate in pleasant silence. We hadn't actually spoken much to each other all morning. Maybe it would be better if I didn't say anything about everything - but I finally broke the silence.
"Would it be worth dying for me?"
Tseng put down the coffee he had just brought to his mouth. "I've never doubted that."
"Uh-huh..." I leaned against the headboard of the bed and blinked at him discontentedly. "Don't you think it would be better if you lived by my side instead?"
"Sir, I..."
He knew that I could also sulk from the many times I used it to bully him. I scowled and turned my face away from him.
"Rufus..." He had placed the cup on the small dresser to grab my chin. Gently, he made me look at him again. "I will live by your side. Until my last second."
There was no promise in his words that he wouldn't die for me, and I couldn't ask him to make such an oath. I was Rufus Shinra and he was a Turk. We could not change that.
His answer still meant a lot to me.
In a few months, perhaps the whole world would be mine.
But that day I had already opened up the most expensive thing in the world to me.
I would spend the next Sunday as usual.
With a close friend.
With Tseng, who was as much mine as I was his.