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Red Red Wine	By : ladyclarity Category: Final Fantasy VII > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 533 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VII, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Red Red Wine
- 1
Red Red Wine

Tseng idly ran his finger around the rim of his glass. It had been a hard day at office, and he was almost too knackered to be letting off steam after work. If he was honest with himself, he would have rather have been pouring himself a long hot bath right now, not propping up the bar at the gym social club. But, to go home was to face the inevitable loneliness. He needed a little distraction to take his mind off of work - to stop his thoughts whirling around the endless possibilities which surrounded his boss - Vincent Valentine.
He sighed, turned round on his stool, and surveyed the room. There wasn't much talent on display tonight. The men who frequented the gym seemed to stray from macho body builder, to overly feminine duchess, without visiting any stops in between. Tseng wasn't interested in bulging muscles, but neither did he particularly want to go with anyone who could be mistaken for a woman. He compared his taste in men to his taste in wine. Particular. Refined. He was a connoisseur, not a binge drinker, and he liked something full bodied - not too dry, but certainly not too sweet.
Tseng shook his head sharply, trying to free his mind of the images that suddenly threatened to drown him. He came here to forget, not to dwell on a particular vintage which he was doomed never to taste. He turned back to the bartender, and signaled for another glass. The red he was drinking was dirty and cheap, and he suspected it contained far too many additives to make for a clear head in the morning. But he didn't care. A little fog in the office would do him good. With the shroud of a hangover between him and Vincent, he might not even notice the way his sultry wine-coloured eyes smoldered across the desk in front of him...
With a grunt of annoyance, Tseng thumped his fist down on the bar in front of him. He apologised to the barman for making him jump as he passed him his drink, and told him to keep the couple of gil change. He took a deep swig of the acrid stuff, willing the alcohol into his veins, to dampen the pounding of his heart.
He had never had it this bad, not for anyone. Not even when he was a teenager training in the Shin-Ra corps had he fallen for someone so badly. At basic training Tseng ended had all his liaisons as a professional - a quick romp in the sack (or store room, or shower, or wherever else happened to be available), then a wink and a promise to write as one by one each one of his lovers had dropped out of the SOLDIER training. Nowadays, as an executive, he tried to be more careful, picking up men from bars and clubs rather than work. Never a date a man with a Shin-Ra badge had been his motto. But that had been before Vincent Valentine.
When Tseng had first been promoted to the Turks, he was more than a little apprehensive of the man. Vincent's reputation as a cold-blooded killer had of course proceeded him. At first, he found it difficult to get along with Vincent. Tseng was not well-known for his humour, but even his slightest attempt to drop even the smallest joke fell flat on its face. Vincent would fix him with his intense ruby stare, and simply say nothing, his pale face betraying no emotion. Tseng decided to merely accept it as his boss's nature, and settled into his new job, trying to serve Vincent in every way possible. He was surprised after a couple of months to find himself habouring a deep respect for his boss, and even a kind of affection for him, despite his sombre mood. But more surprises were yet to come.
Tseng was completely gay. In his mind there had never been any doubt about the matter. That didn't mean he shouted it out from the rooftops however. Enough of the secretaries had unsuccessfully hit on him for his sexuality to be a matter of unconfirmed rumour, but despite this he doubted his boss knew about it. Vincent was far too wrapped up in his own little world to be worrying about the preferences of his employee. Or so Tseng had thought.
It had started as one of his attempted jokes at first. Tseng was bored by paperwork one day, and was absently wondering if Vincent even had a sexual side. He had noticed, of course, that his boss was incredibly attractive - a guy didn't have to be gay to notice that - but he wondered if his boss had ever done anything with his obvious advantages. Plenty of people, male and female, had slept their way to the top at Shin-Ra, and Tseng was proud of the fact that he had never had to. He just couldn't help but wonder if his boss felt the same way.
It had started with a pencil. Tseng had nonchalantly put the end in his mouth whilst he was looking out the window, watching Vincent's reflection. When he was sure his boss was looking, he put on his best pensive expression and made a great show of licking and sucking the rubber-tipped end as he pretended to ponder his paperwork. He turned back to Vincent's desk, expecting to find that his boss had either misunderstood, or shaken his head disapprovingly and returned to his work. Instead, Tseng experienced a lurch in his stomach and a leap in his loins as he caught Vincent openly smirking at him, one eyebrow raised.
"Penny for them, Tseng?"
"Uh... I..."
For the first time in his life, Tseng had been struck completely speechless by another man. Usually he had the upper hand in any sexual encounter, and played his partners for all he was worth. But now, as Vincent stared at him, his chin resting on one hand, smiling slightly, and then, as he licked his lips...
Tseng shuddered, and came away from his memories, focusing his attention back on the bar, and his glass of wine. From then onwards, it had been downright lust he had felt for his boss, no matter how hard he tried to suppress it. Every single touch they shared, the brush of Vincent's hand as he passed him a document, the caress of his jacket as he swept into an elevator beside him, the reassuring pat on the back when he made a good shot - everything seemed sexually charged to Tseng. It seemed there was an invisible tension between them, one that Vincent loved to play with to Tseng's obvious frustration. When they were alone, Vincent would lean over to whisper in Tseng's ear, making sure his lips brushed his skin. He would ask the most mundane questions in his huskiest of voices. Vincent made an obvious point of trying to excite Tseng in nearly every single important meeting they went to. The seemingly accidental brush of his hand over Tseng's thigh, or a deeply flirtatious wink of one of his wine-coloured eyes across the boardroom roused the usually professional Turk to an uncomfortable state.
Tseng was finding it more and more difficult to cope with his boss's constant teasing. Worse, he knew that Vincent had a girl waiting for him in Nibleheim. He suspected that his boss's flirtation was nothing more than a gross kind of sexual harassment. Tseng knew Vincent had no intention of making good on all the signals he was sending out. He wished he had at least some inkling of what kind of game it was that his boss was playing. Tseng had never felt so helpless before, and worse yet, he found that he kind of liked it. So used to being in control, Tseng took a peverse kind of pleasure in allowing his boss to torture him in this way. During the day he attempted to deny it, but at night his imagination got the better of him, and he could not help dreaming of surrendering all of his dignity to his tormentor, allowing Vincent to tease him in whatever way he pleased. Tseng would eventually wake, hot, flushed and sticky, feeling deeply ashamed of his own private thoughts, and worse still, wishing that they would eventually come true.
Tseng knocked back the rest of the wine, and wiped his mouth with the back of his glove. He was a fit man, and his body had easily soaked up all the alcohol. He wasn't even remotely as drunk as he wanted to be. He slid the glass across the bar, with an angry look at the bartender which left the man in little doubt as to what he wanted. The barkeeper turned to pour another glass out of the wine carton, and Tseng was digging into his blazer pocket for his wallet, when a deep voice behind him arrested him.
"I'll get that."
Trembling, Tseng turned round to see what he already suspected to be true. He looked straight up into the deep red eyes of Vincent Valentine, standing so calmly behind him. His soft black hair was cropped around his ears, tumbling over the left side of his face like a veil. His eyes were lined with black, contrasting with his pale skin. His thin lips were twisted into what have almost been a smile, an expression that was rarely ever seen on his face. He wore his black Shin-Ra suit, the jacket done up with a zip rather than buttons. He had pulled the zipper halfway down his chest to reveal a deep blood red shirt, open at the neck.
For the first time in years, Tseng blushed a red so deep it almost competed with Vincent's eyes. He felt the heat rising all over his body, blushing all the way from his cheeks, all the way down his neck and under his collar. Worst still, he literally squirmed under Vincent's gaze, knowing that not even the poor lighting in the room could conceal his embarrassment.
"Sir!" He tried to keep his voice light, but he could hear it shaking. "What are you doing here?"
For an answer, Vincent slipped onto the barstool beside Tseng. The man's presence beside him was so tangible, Tseng could almost smell him. He couldn't believe he had only just been thinking about Vincent when the man had snuck up upon him. He felt as though his senior could see right through his head, to the perverse thoughts inside.
The bartender gave Tseng his drink, and raised his eyebrows as Vincent payed him.
"One for you sir?"
Vincent merely shook his head, and the barkeeper nodded, and drifted off down the bar to polish some glasses. Tseng watched him go, longing him to return, to provide any distraction from the tall pale man sitting beside him. He took his wine, intensely aware that Vincent was scrutinising his every move. He sipped the ruby liquid, trying to be dainty, but failing as his hand shook, causing the wine in the glass to resemble a stormy red sea.
Vincent half turned, and leant in close, causing Tseng to freeze and hold his breath. The Turk leader breathed warmly into the Wutaiese man's ear, his cologne a deep woody scent.
"I'm sure you could drink that far more sexily than that, Tseng..."
Tseng gulped, not daring to turn round to face his boss.
"I'm afraid I don't know what you mean!"
As Vincent leant back into his seat, Tseng picked up the nerve to look at his boss. He openly smirked, as though laughing at Tseng for trying to deny the obvious effect he was having upon him.
"I mean," Tseng stammered, "It's not very good wine, sir. In short it's horrible. I don't think I could drink it..." he cringed as he said the word "...sexily." He felt his blush rising up anew. What was happening to him? Was he really trying to flirt with his boss? If he had a single sensible bone in his body he would turn around and leave right now, but some kind of masochistic desire kept him rooted to his seat. He stared into Vincent's intense eyes, and the man stared silently back. Finally, Tseng could stand the tension no longer.
"Did you follow me here?" he blurted out into the silence.
"Ah young Tseng," Vincent smiled wryly. "Tseng, Tseng, Tseng." The older man reached out, and stroked Tseng's face with his leather-gloved fingers. "You fascinate me, do you know that?"
"I - you..?"
Vincent laughed, a deep rich sound which Tseng had never heard before, and suddenly longed hear more often.
"In answer to your question - yes, I followed you. But then again, no, I didn't follow you, not tonight. I've known for some time that you come here. I came tonight in the hopes of seeing you."
Tseng swallowed hard. Any hope that Vincent was here for any innocent reason was fading fast.
"You... wanted to see me?"
"I would like to see a lot more of you, Tseng."
From any other man, Tseng would have laughed off this remark, and told the guy to take a hike. He just couldn't deal with cheap lines. But coming from Vincent's lips, it seemed the most seductive line anyone had ever fed him.
Vincent took a packet out of his pocket, and lit up a clove cigarette. He offered one to Tseng, and reluctantly the Turk let him place it between his lips, and light it with a gold Zippo. Tseng didn't smoke very often, but he inhaled the sweet smoke deeply, feeling the need to calm his nerves. He reached over, and pulled the ashtray down the bar, and put it between them. Act cooly, he reprimanded himself. He took a drag on his cigarette, then exhaled, tapping the ash out into the cut glass bowl.
"Listen. I like you, but I don't see work colleagues, alright? So let's stop this before one of us gets..."
"Shut up."
The words were harsh, not even a hint of the former tenderness in them. Tseng felt all of his resolve melt away instantly. Turning away from him, Vincent blew out a couple of smoke rings, then turned flashing angry red eyes on him.
"Do you know all I risk to be here? What if Heidegger were to find out? Hojo? Lucre- " Vincent stopped abruptly, and took another drag on his cigarette, turning away.
"What do you think I risk every day?" Tseng replied quietly.
Vincent exhaled slowly, and turned back to where Tseng sat, staring at the half empty glass of wine. He stubbed his cigarette in the ashtray, and leant over, placing a hand over where Tseng held the base of the wine glass. Tseng shuddered but didn't look up.
"Look. I can't stand this anymore." Vincent's voice was low, but this time it was earnest. "I don't know what you've done to me Tseng. I ache to possess you. I've never felt this way before about another man. Odin knows I've tried my hardest to leave you alone, but I just can't..."
Tseng looked up, his black eyes dark and bleak, his face disbelieving. He glared evenly at his boss, but Vincent simply returned his gaze with even more ardour.
"Gods, I'm not lying to you Tseng! I'm not playing with you anymore. If we don't do something to relieve this pressure then I don't even know what will happen..."
"I on the other hand," Tseng replied quietly, "have loved many men before. But this is wrong."
"Is it?" Vincent pleaded.
Tseng tried to remain steady under the intense gaze of the man he was irrevocably obsessed with. He knew he should get up, and walk away, but every fibre in his body longed to lean forward and embrace the man beside him. He tried not to to look at Vincent's pale soft lips, his face framed by his delicate feathery hair. Tseng felt himself drifting towards Vincent as though pulled by some invisible force, and he lidded his eyes, his heart leaping as their lips finally met. Vincent's lips were smooth and soft, his tongue a quick sweetness.
"Yes..." he moaned into Vincent's mouth, as the older man gently cupped his chin, and kissed him gently. Slowly the senior Turk drew back, leaving Tseng still longing for more.
"Is that, 'yes this is wrong', or 'yes I will come with you'?"
Tseng sat perfectly still, hardly daring to breath, eyes still lidded in ecstasy.
"Leviathan help me, but it's yes to both." he whispered.
"Good." Tseng heard rather than saw the smile in Vincent's voice. "Don't bother finishing your wine. I have a bottle of something velvety smooth at home, which will make that stuff taste like anti-freeze."
"It already does," Tseng admitted, opening his eyes. "You're going to take me to yours?"
"You'll go wherever I take you." Vincent replied in his husky voice, the seductive smile playing over the lips that Tseng longed to kiss again. Slowly, the Wutaiese man began to realise exactly what it was that Vincent had in store for him. He felt a heat creeping into his groin, as his mind was suddenly filled with the images of his dreams.
"Yes, sir." he whispered reverently.
"Good boy." Vincent replied. "Now come with me."

Vincent's apartment was situated in a good part of town, not only topside, but in a rich area too. With the pay from his job as the leader of the Turks, he could have chosen to live anywhere, but Vincent had opted for the penthouse suit in a company building which Shin-Ra had offered him. Tseng himself part-owned a flat a sector over. He preferred to have as little possible to do with the company as possible, but he could understand why Vincent had accepted this place. Every detail screamed quality, from the deep cream thick-piled carpet on the floor, to the opulent red sofa to which Vincent led him, and beckoned him to sit upon. Tseng looked around, blinking in his surroundings. The house smelt rich and clean, a pleasant lived-in smell which he would never have associated with Vincent Valentine had he not been taken here by him. Vincent unzipped his jacket, and lay it carefully over the back of a chair. He swept out of the room, pausing only by a mahogany dresser to lay a framed photograph face down. Tseng felt a sudden stab of guilt for Vincent's woman, but couldn't make it compare to his overwhelming desire to surrender himself to the older man, and his fear of what might happen when he did.
Vincent returned from the kitchenette, a jug of Bordeaux in one hand, and a couple of glasses in the other. He walked over to the coffee table in front of Tseng, and poured out the ruby red wine. He passed one glass to Tseng, who sat on the sofa with his legs folded up underneath him, and raised the other in the air.
"A toast." he announced.
"To what?" Tseng replied, cupping the glass in his hands, attempting to warm the wine within. He gave it a deep appreciate sniff, feeling the different flavours playing somewhere at the back of his throat.
Vincent gave a wry smile.
"To scratching this damn itch." he said, and lifted his glass to his lips.
Tseng thought such a beautiful wine deserved a more romantic toast, but he didn't dare protest. He lifted his own glass to the light for a moment, to admire the beautiful burgundy colour, before putting it to his lips, and drinking deeply.
It was like blood red silk slipping down his throat.
"Vincent!" he gasped, forgetting whom he was addressing for a moment. "This is gorgeous, where on the planet did you get this?"
The older man laughed, that beautiful deep sound again.
"It's just an old claret I lifted from Hojo's private cellar."
"Just an old claret..." Tseng gasped at the almost heresy of Vincent's words. "Please sir, you must let me see the bottle."
Vincent's expression was suddenly very serious.
"I don't think I 'must' let you do anything Tseng."
At his tone quick shaft of fear penetrated Tseng's guts, and he drank heavily of the wine, trying to dampen the feeling. He longed to concentrate only on the Bordeaux's taste and smell, but he was becoming more and more aware of Vincent's intense stare, and he found himself wanting the other man even more than the exquisite wine. The drink was finally starting to go to his head, and he felt warm and fuzzy, and every so slightly dizzy. He had been sexually frustrated for weeks now, but as the heat began to spread through his body he became aware of just how turned on he really was. He looked up at Vincent, who openly stared at him, with a coy smile on his face.
"You are aware of the expression 'Do you have a gun in your pocket, or are you just pleased to see me?'"
Tseng looked back at Vincent, confused, not sure what he wanted.
"Yes?" he replied cautiously.
"Well, in my case, it's both." Vincent gave a wicked smile, as he withdrew, to Tseng's horror and delight, a small silver pistol from his breast pocket. He kissed the gun tenderly, and lay it down on the coffee table next to him. "I think you will do exactly what I say Tseng, hmm?"
Tseng honestly didn't know what to say to that one.
Vincent crossed the room, and fiddled with a record player. Sultry tones of deep base music began to fill the room. Vincent came back over, and stooping, took away Tseng's glass, and taking his hand, drew Tseng to his feet.
"Now, dance for me."
"I... don't - I can't..."
Even though graceful in unarmed combat, and rock-steady with a gun, Tseng had always had an innate fear of dancing. He didn't know how to dance like a man, and Leviathan knew he didn't want to dance like a woman. However, the pistol lay between them like an unspoken promise, and Tseng knew he had no choice. Slowly he began to swing his hips in time to the music, feeling the blood rushing to his face. As he saw Vincent smirking at him, he realised the Turk leader was enjoying his embarrassment far more than his dancing, and this merely made him feel even worse, blushing even deeper as the wine enhanced the blood flow to his skin. Throwing away his dignity in this manner should have made him feel disgusted with himself, and it did, but beneath that was an even stronger emotion. He couldn't help the stiffening heat rushing to his groin, the feeling of pleasure that made him want to cry with shame. Knowing that Vincent could tell he was getting off out of making a spectacle of himself only made the feeling even stronger.
"Enough." Vincent picked the gun up off the table, and pushed Tseng down onto the sofa, straddling him. He pushed the gun up underneath Tseng's chin, lifting his face up to his. "You're a shit dancer."
"I know." Tseng barely whispered back.
"Shut up. Don't say anything unless I tell you to. Do you understand?"
Tseng simply nodded back.
Vincent pushed the gun even further up into the soft part of Tseng's chin, forcing him to hold his head up towards the older man's. Vincent leant forward, kissing Tseng deeply, enjoying the taste of the wine on his lips and tongue. Vincent carefully put the gun down on the sofa beside him, and laced his fingers behind Tseng's head, and drew him even deeper into the most complete kiss he had ever had. Vincent had never kissed another man before this night, and his stolen kisses from Lucrecia were few and far between. He had never dreamt that kissing a man could have ever felt this good, not even in his darkest of dreams when he had the young Wutaiese man on his knees beneath him.
Tseng kept his arms by his sides, as he kissed Vincent back. He knew by instinct that the gun was just to the right of him, but he made no move to take it. It wasn't just that he was terrified of the lightning fast instincts of his superior, although some part of him was begging him to end this sexual misadventure before it had properly begun. He just found the entire experience of being completely controlled by the older man so totally delicious that he couldn't bear to bring it to an end, no matter what might happen to him.
Vincent withdrew, sucking slightly on Tseng's bottom lip.
"Hmm..." he purred in satisfaction. "You are not, however, a shit kisser. I look forward to finding out what else you can do with that clever tongue of yours."
Here Tseng was on more familiar ground, and he leaned forward and placed a quick little kiss on Vincent's lips. His boss shoved him roughly back against the sofa, picking up his gun again.
"Take your jacket off." he said, unable to disguise the hunger in his voice.
Dancing may not have been one of Tseng's strong points, but stripping was another matter. He slowly undid the buttons of his jacket, looking up under his lids at the man straddling him as he did so. He shrugged off the jacket, and loosened his tie. He knew Vincent hadn't asked him to remove his shirt, but he wanted to give the other man a show he would enjoy. Slowly and sensuously he undid every button, baring his olive-coloured muscled chest. He heard his senior give an inhale of appreciation, and knew he would not be disciplined for removing the shirt entirely. He sat smugly underneath his boss, basking in his approving gaze. Vincent leaned forward, and kissed the dot on Tseng's forehead tenderly.
"Good boy." he crooned softly.
Reaching behind him, Vincent picked up Tseng's discarded glass of wine. Pulling his leather gloves off with his teeth, Vincent dipped his forefinger in the wine, and began to trace red trails across Tseng's chest, marking swirls around his pectorals, and spiralling round to rub his nipples with his thumb. Adding more wine, he leant in, and deftly licked and sucked the liquid off of his now very hard nipples with his mouth and tongue, eliciting a most satisfying moan from the other man. Still kissing Tseng's chest, Vincent reached for the wine, and held it up to Tseng's lips. The Wutaiese man gulped at it appreciatively, but some dribbled out of the corner of his mouth, necessitating Vincent to kiss his face clean again.
With one skilled hand, Vincent undid the clasp on Tseng's belt, whilst still kissing him. He carefully undid his flies, and moved into Tseng's trousers, giving a murmur of appreciation at the hard flesh he felt within the soft fabric of Tseng's briefs. He took one hand under Tseng's hips, lifting him up as he smoothly removed both Tseng's trousers and his socks, leaving him naked apart from the fabric tenting at his groin.
"Gods but you are beautiful, Tseng." he whispered feverently under his voice. I would not have thought it possible of another man, but you are." Unable to stand the temptation any more, Vincent roughly pulled off Tseng's underwear, baring his enlarged cock, standing a proud testament to just how hot and bothered he had got his subordinate. With a wry smile, Vincent picked his gun back up, and stroked the cold tip of the barrel along the silky length of Tseng's erection. The Wutaiese man let out a small moan in the back of his throat, a sound someway between intense pleasure and intense fear. He could not take his eyes off the gun, and the finger that Vincent had curled around the trigger. In terror he imagined his boss squeezing that small piece of metal, and ending his life in a way far more painful and embarrassing than they dealt out to Shin-Ra's enemies. Then, the next moment, at his mere imagining of Vincent shooting him, his cock grew and strained even further, until Tseng was hotter than he'd ever been before. He began to long for Vincent to finish teasing him so they could get down some good honest sex.
"Please..." Tseng muttered under his breath, despite himself.
"Please what, Tseng?" Vincent shot back, angrily. He pulled the gun away from Tseng's cock, then suddenly pushed it's cold length up into Tseng's scrotum. It took all the self control the younger man possessed to keep from calling out, as his balls tried to retract into his groin. "I give the orders here, not you. Right?"
"Right." Tseng mumbled back. The shame of having his boss order him about whilst holding a gun against his balls was almost painful, but even more shameful was his stiffened cock, a testament to how Vincent was really making him feel.
"Touch yourself."
"What?"
"Touch yourself. Do you think I'm going to do this for you?"
The heat rose once more to Tseng's face as he took his cock in his hand. He chanced to look up at Vincent, but seeing the downright lust and greed on the older man's face made him look away in shame. He had pleasured himself in front of other lovers before, of course, but in front of men he trusted, not his ruby-eyed boss, with a gun against his balls.
Slowly, Tseng began to stroke his shaft up and down. He tried to be matter of fact about it, but the heat in his loins was just too much. He couldn't help but let out a shiver of little moans, as he delicately teased himself, alternating between hard and soft, slow and fast. He licked a finger, and traced little patterns about the head of his penis, gasping at the sensation. He gave Vincent another look, as much as to turn himself on further as anything else, and saw that his boss had his own cock in his hand, masturbating at the sight of him, with a hard frown on his face. How Vincent managed to do it, and keep the gun steady on his groin Tseng didn't know, and quite honestly didn't care right now. He speed the rhythm of his hand, and feeling Vincent's glaring eyes on him, found himself teetering on the brink of a powerful orgasm. His superior, sensing he was about come, suddenly leaned forward, and pushed the gun lower, right down to the bud of Tseng's arse. Completely shocked, Tseng went over the brink, and came in a flood of sticky semen that flooded down from his hand onto Vincent’s. Tseng floated on the brink of ecstasy for only a moment, before falling swiftly back to earth. With shock, he felt disappointment flood him. It was over. All too fast.
He sat soiled, Vincent in front of him, a smirk on his face, the gun lowered. With the orgasm, all the madness and lust had left, leaving only a desperate longing for something deeper than sex. He saw only his boss mopping himself up with a red handkerchief. Tseng looked away, closing his eyes in honest shame, as opposed to the perverse desire to humiliate himself.
"What have we done?"
"What we had to." was the gruff response. Tseng stared at the floor, a glass kicked over, a spreading claret stain across the otherwise creamy carpet. Vincent got up. Tseng felt the gun pointing at him again. "Not a word of this to anyone, you understand?"
Quick as a flash, Tseng was up from his seat, and had twisted the gun out of Vincent's hand. He flipped his boss's right arm behind his back, and held him there, shoulder socket at wrenching point. Vincent turned his head, to regard Tseng with one mocking red eye. Slowly and deliberately, Tseng leaned forward, and kissed him on the lips, savoring this last taste of his seductively insane boss. There was something in that kiss, some understanding, something that only they two knew in that moment. The madness of the Turk. The loneliness of the killer. The passion and desperation of men who fought for their lives everyday and the desperate search for proof that they were something more than monsters. Tseng wasn't stupid, and he realised that what was passing between was merely another way for both of them to feel alive, but the connection between them was seducing him.
"Vincent," he broke off the kiss, "I, we, please..." Tseng felt the gun in his hand, and he pushed it into Vincent's left kidney, and using his lock on his right arm, forced the slightly tall man into his arms. "Please Vincent. Let's start again. I need someone. You understand, you know everything. I..."
"Tseng..." the older man chuckled softly, reached behind him, and gently took the gun out of his hand. "Have the Turks damaged you this much? That you know now other way to plead for love than at gunpoint?"
"You started this!"
"As play." Vincent started to turn, and Tseng dropped his grip on his arm to prevent breaking it. "I'm your boss. Not your lover. We can't do this."
Tseng looked away, feeling very young all of a sudden. Feeling that he had mistaken a sexual game for something more real.
"I'm going away, Tseng."
"What? Where?" Panic.
"West. To Nibleheim. I have ghosts to lay to rest."
"But what will I do?"
"What I have taught you." Vincent smiled down at Tseng, and cupped his chin with one hand. "You are ready for this. You need me to step out of the picture for a while so you can achieve your full potential. And we both needed to exorcise a certain maddening lust before I left." Vincent leant forward, and placed a small kiss on Tseng's lips. It was barely a peck. "There is someone I love Tseng, and I cannot leave her. This, between us, can't happen. But we'll always be Turks. In that, we'll always be together."
"We’ll be together?"
"Forever. I promise."
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