Ruthless Gravity

When Rufus awakened late the next morning, he found himself carefully tucked into bed alone, the indention in the pillow next to him the only sign that Tseng had slept there. Shifting, he buried his face in the pillow, breathing in the faint spice of Tseng’s hair and holding it in his lungs. He let his mind wander to the previous night. They were reckless in their passion, and yet that was what made it so appealing. Perhaps it had been for spite that he had first pursued Tseng, to prove to his father that he could manipulate his spy. Perhaps it had been base lust. But in Tseng he had found a companion; someone honest to a fault.

They were both aware of what they were risking, but that only added to the appeal. Not entirely loveless, but close. There was affection, and a type of commitment, but there was no true spoken bond between the two. Instead it was a need for companionship in this world of formality and pretence. And though there was nothing conventional about shagging one’s bodyguard, it ensured security for it was Tseng’s career –and possibly life- that would pay forfeit were they discovered. Rumours spread quickly within the corporation, and therefore it was imperative to keep their relationship discrete. Rufus knew well enough that his father would adamantly object to this affair, and would not hesitate in forcibly ending it. The thought of loosing the one person he had enough faith in to trust pained him, for Tseng was the closest person Rufus could call a friend—he had never taken the time to get to know Tseng’s underlings. To him, they were nothing more than looming shadows behind the President.

Groaning softly, he dragged himself from the warm confines of his bed, pulling on the long discarded silk robe. Tseng had pushed the garment from his body the previous night before sweeping him onto the bed and holding him close until Rufus drifted into slumber. He must have left shortly thereafter. Tseng never lingered until dawn, and Rufus was certain that the early morning hours were encroaching by the time they fell into bed for the second time that night. Not that it mattered. Tseng would soon return to his apartment, wearing a mask of protocol and indifference. While on duty, Tseng would not so much as even consider submitting to Rufus’s insistent flirting. Likewise, the moment Rufus left the safety of his apartment, he wore a similar façade, one of glacial intimidation and apathy.

And so it was when Tseng returned to find Rufus seated at his desk looking over mako quotes disinterestedly, there was neither sign nor indication of that which had transpired between the two mere hours before. Hands folded precisely at the small of his back, suit crisply ironed, hair sleek and shining, Tseng was the essence of efficiency as he stood several steps inside the door, waiting for acknowledgement.

Looking up from his laptop, Rufus waved the Turk in. ‘Don’t just stand there, Tseng. It makes me nervous.’

‘Of course, sir.’ With a respectful bow, Tseng moved further inside the apartment, before planting himself into a similar stance, awaiting further orders as though he had not been here the previous night, fucking the young man seated before him against a window, drawing screams from that mouth that now was set in a tight line.

Rufus met Tseng’s gaze, light eyes glittering behind the wire framed glasses he wore for reading. The corners of his lips curved upwards just slightly before he turned his attention back to the monitor. He knew well enough that Tseng would simply disregard any flirtatious attempts, but that did not change the fact that once protocol was cast aside, they would fall back into one another’s arms. But in the time they had been together, Tseng had only once given into Rufus’s desires while on duty. Upon recollection, however, Tseng was unsure of how he could have not put duty aside, what with Rufus acting like a darling little tart. But only once in the year they had been together was hardly a threat to their efficiency. They still kept a business-like air at all times, and even those who knew them best would not be able to detect that there was more to this relationship of protector and protected than met the eye. Of course, had there been, perhaps the conspirators would not have so readily told Tseng of their plot—a test of true loyalty and duty, as opposed to emotional attachment. And Tseng now wished more than ever that he had never fallen for the young ShinRa heir.

The persistent ring of Tseng’s cell phone broke the slight tension between the two, which Tseng answered without hesitation, replying with short, clipped words to Heidegger’s request before snapping the phone shut and meeting Rufus’s gaze respectfully. ‘If you will excuse me, Sir.’ Rufus met his request with a slight nod, and a moment later Tseng turned on his heel and slipped through the door into the hallway.