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Sex and Politics
By : blackcurrants
Category: Final Fantasy VII > Yaoi - Male/Male
Views: 659 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1Disclaimer: 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
CHAPTER 2 At the first signs of dawn Tseng has already abandoned his immaculate bedroom. His shoes were shined, his suit was sharp and wrinkle-free, and his luxurious black hair was tied back in a formal manner.
“Well?” he asked into his earpiece as he adjusted his suit. “Is he still coming for the interview?”
“There’s been a robbery, Sir. Some guys shot and killed him.” Yes. I love it when ‘some guys’ kill assholes who get in my way.
“Too bad,” he replied calmly, “I will inform the President.” He stopped to glance in the mirror before pulling open the bedroom door. Ready to rule the world, he smiled unnoticeably as he stepped out.
He silently saluted the stationary Shinra guards and they saluted back, as though the manor was his. It may as well be, I kept this sweet nest from being foreclosed on. Tseng always returned to his own bedroom after satisfying Rufus’s erotic urges in order to keep decorum, but he was well past being a simple bodyguard. Rufus made few decisions without Tseng’s input, which he usually solicited during sex, and whenever duty called Tseng served as the unofficial Vice President of Shinra Inc.
Tseng made his way into the lavish study and made himself comfortable behind the mahogany desk. In front of him was a pile of manila folders, each one containing proposals for major projects and large funding requests. Tseng stared at the folders for a moment, sipping his coffee, and then he started to read. He quickly made decisions on what promising causes received Shinra’s financial blessing and moved on to the accounting matters. Don’t know why Rufus hates this job. President of Shinra is the President of the World and ruling the world is a lot of fun.
Tseng was not an ambitious man in traditional sense of the word. He wanted to be the best at what he did, true, but he also believed in enjoying his work. He consistently refused promotions because his position as leader of the Turks brought him great satisfaction.
In particular, he had developed a deep affection for the man whose body he caressed at night and guarded with his life during the day. Tseng knew that the only way to protect Rufus Shinra from inevitable demise was to ensure that the world didn’t see him for who he really was – an emotionally unstable and frustrated kid who bit off a lot more than he could chew when he took over as President of Shinra.
Presiding over such a giant company required education and experience of a seasoned executive and Rufus quickly found himself in over his head. There was a whole lot more to running Shinra Inc. than smiling at press conferences and giving speeches. Despite his intelligence Rufus still couldn’t understand half the documents that ended up on his desk and his obvious incompetence in financial matters deeply wounded his ego. He was exhausted and depressed and he dealt with it the only way he knew how: he drank a lot and often.
Tseng reluctantly took over all of Rufus’s decision-making duties that required financial savvy, thinking that this low point will finally force Rufus to seek a competent Vice President. In the meantime Tseng, who was well-educated in accounting and management matters, got to test out the power-sharing arrangement. He was addicted to power the moment he tasted it. It pleased him to no end that he, a bastard child from Wutai who didn’t even have the right to inherit his father’s scant fortune, could have so much influence over the most powerful company in the world. After a his first day in office Tseng decided that he liked being the Vice President of Shinra and he had no intention of vacating the post.
“Tseng,” the Turk looked up to find his superior standing before him in a black satin robe that hung open all the way to his naval. His nude muscular chest still bore the marks of Tseng’s bites from the night before. Rufus shifted from one foot to another, deciding if he should go back to bed. “Did I have an appointment with some man this morning? Some promising VP candidate Reeve Tuesti wanted me to interview?”
“You did,” Tseng said in his velvety voice with a mild Wutai accent, smiling at Rufus’s endearing habit of flicking his hair. “I’m sorry, Sir, but your interviewee had an accident, unfortunately, and will not be joining us. He’s dead, I’m afraid.”
Rufus immediately narrowed his sleepy ice-blue eyes at the Turk and slowly and deliberately nodded his head in understanding. Turks were an efficient and murderous lot and Tseng didn’t become their leader by being a gentleman. Good, he wants this job bad enough to kill for it.
“I hope his accident wasn’t messy,” Rufus said sternly, arching his blond eyebrow.
“No Sir, some thugs robbed and shot him on the way here,” Tseng’s enormous black eyes were unreadable. “These are dangerous times.”
“Indeed,” Rufus yawned, satisfied with what he saw. “All the more reason to hire someone I trust to be my Vice President. Carry on.”
“Yes, Sir.” Tseng leaned back in the luxurious chair, mentally celebrating victory. “It’s about time for a promotion.”
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