Memoirs of an Ex-President

This is something that came to me while I was thinking of what to do with 'Friends'. I plan on continuing it later.

Reviews would be a nice thing to see. n.n

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'Memoirs of an Ex-President Chapter 1: Reflections
Rufus reflects on his life, and has unexpected conversations with two of his followers. (Rufus / Tseng - post-AC)
[Male masturbation, WAFF, Yaoi, and a bit of phone sex.]

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I don't know why I'm bothering to write this. Maybe because I'm too cowardly to say it? I don't know. Everyone needs an outlet, even a cold, heartless bastard like me, I suppose. That's what Reno calls me, though he doesn't know I've heard. I have a feeling the other two agree - maybe even you.

Perhaps he's right, though. I've spent so long trying to bottle myself up and let nothing show that I don't know if I can let anything out. I think I'm getting better at it, but it's not something I can ask anyone - not even you.

It's strange to realize you've always been there for me, ever since the first day my father insisted I learn the 'family business'. You were my first official bodyguard, you know. Before that, it was just a never-ending procession of my father's underlings that got paid to stand around and pretend they weren't bored. I liked to torment them when I was a kid. I was probably crueler than I should have been. I realize now how resentful I was - I didn't have a childhood, didn't have real parents, just nannies and butlers and tutors and armed guards that treated me as little more than talking furniture.

It's possible that that's why I turned out the way I did. A reason, maybe, but not an excuse. I don't think I can ever be excused - or forgiven - for the things I did. Perhaps I don't deserve it. I think I can accept that, now.

I've never had regrets before. I've never cared about the consequences of my actions. But now, when I walk through the streets with Reno and Rude, or sit with them in their favorite bar, I can feel the hostile eyes on me. They're hard to ignore. They hate me for the things I've done, for the things that were done in my name, and I don't blame them. I can see, now, what I was blind to before.

Interesting what multiple near-death experiences can do, isn't it? First Cloud, when my father was murdered. Then the ShinRa tower exploding. And then the slow, painful wasting of the Geostigma.

And through it all, you were there. You helped me recover from my beating. You were the first face I saw when the concrete and steel burying me was lifted away. And you were always by my side when I was suffering through the worst of the disease that was eating away at my body. I don't know if I can say 'thank you' enough and have you know how much I mean it.

The most I can do is try to be worthy of your loyalty. It's a a strange concept to me, trying to be worthy of something; I've always demanded, commanded, required. I've grown weary of that. You four - my loyal, ever-present Turks - are all that have stayed with me despite all I've done. Mere thanks can never be enough.

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I stared down at the paper before me, and sighed, then snapped the pocket notebook shut. Time and again I've tried to write down my thoughts - half the book was filled with ramblings like that by now, addressed to a man who'd never see them. I'll probably burn it once it's full; they say it's almost therapeutic. Maybe it'll help me.

The ringing of my cell interrupts my thoughts, and I flip it open before the first few chords of Beethoven's '5th Symphony' are over. "Rufus," I say, glad to hear my voice was calm despite the quickness of my heartbeat from being startled.

"Tseng here," the familiar voice replied. "Where are you, sir? You weren't at Healin."

"No, I'm at Reno's," I replied. I stood and stretched, and wandered from the kitchenette, feeling a bit restless after sitting for so long.

"I figured, sir," he replied. "Were you...?" He didn't finish the question. I wasn't sure what he was going to ask, but he sounded almost... disappointed, maybe? Hm.

"I was awake. You know how hard it is for me to sleep these days, and I'd swear Reno's couch is made of nothing but hard lumps and springs." I was glad to hear him chuckle, and I grinned. "What about you, Tseng? Where are you now?"

"A few minutes away from you, actually, if you want a ride back to the lodge," he replied.

I was already slipping into my coat and lacing up my shoes - which wasn't easy to do one-handed, but I managed. "I'll meet you at the door," I responded, and hung up. I felt a slight pang of guilt at that, but it was a hard-to-break habit. I should apologize later, I thought, as I headed to the front door of Reno's building.

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I waited just inside the glass doors until Tseng's familiar black sedan pulled up in the drive. It was raining heavily, which explained my staying at Reno's place for the night - his aging car wouldn't start when it got wet outside, and none of the public transportation operated outside of Edge, which meant I had no way to get back home.

I hurried from the door and got into the passenger seat of Tseng's car, settling onto the leather with a sigh. "You're a sight for sore eyes," I said quietly as I closed my eyes and leaned against the headrest. "I can't wait to get into my own bed and sleep half the morning away."

He laughed quietly, and I smiled at the sound. I liked to hear his amusement. "So why were you at Reno's? Did you go out to the bars with them again?"

"Yeah," I replied, too tired to lift my head and nod. I hadn't realized how weary I was until then. "You know how interesting Reno is when he's drunk. Even Rude and Elena let themselves go a little." I paused; I could feel him looking at me from the corner of his eye. He still worried about me, I knew. "I only had a few drinks, just enough for a little buzz," I continued. "I think it's already gone. Won't even have to worry about a hangover."

"Good," he murmured. "I hate to see you make yourself sick. At least one of you had some common sense."

I snickered. "Trust me, my friend, I've had enough of being sick to last me for a lifetime."

He didn't respond to that beyond a slight smile, and I didn't feel like saying anything else. We passed the rest of the short ride in comfortable silence, with me half-asleep.

"Wake up, sir, we're here," I heard, as someone shook my shoulder. Make that completely asleep.

I groaned, and peered up at Tseng through one half-opened eye where he leaned into the open passenger door. "I should make you carry me in," I sighed.

Before I could move to get out of the car, Tseng had one arm under my knees and the other behind my back, and was lifting me off the seat. I had time to let out a startled 'Hey!' before he kicked the car door closed and made his way up the path to our temporary home. "I was joking, you know," I mumbled, my arm moving around his shoulders. Before I could stop myself, my face was buried into his neck, and I was breathing in his scent - Tseng always had the best scent, vanilla mixed with something exotic I could never place. He had carried me like this more times than I could count when I was sick or broken, and whatever he wore was comforting to me. "You don't have to treat me like an invalid anymore."

"I know," he responded, pausing to let me open the door before stepping inside and setting me on my feet. "But you were mostly asleep, and I didn't want you slipping in the mud." He took my wet coat, and took it to hang with his own to dry, before nudging me to my bedroom. "Now go get some sleep, I'll have breakfast in the morning."

I stopped to look after him as he went into his own room right across the hall from mine. He shut the door, and I sighed, before entering mine. "I don't know what I'd do if I didn't have you," I muttered to myself. It didn't take long to undress and slip into my silk pajamas - a luxury I never could manage to give up. I think I was asleep before my head hit the pillow.

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I woke with the sun in my eyes; with a groan, I rolled onto my back, and stretched. I'd slept like a rock, and it felt damn good. Apparently another part of me agreed; I could see it tenting the sheets upward. The slight pressure felt nice; it'd been a while since I'd relieved myself that way. Usually I just ignored it and headed to the shower in the morning. But the remembered feel of Tseng's arms holding me and the scent of him on my skin gave me a reason to change my mind.

I pushed the blankets down and eased my pajama pants off my hips, just enough to free my waiting erection. My fingers slipped around my length and began stroking slowly, pulling upward with gentle squeezes that made me gasp. It really had been too long since I indulged, but I didn't want to rush; I just closed my eyes and teased myself slowly; fingers cupped my shaft as I rubbed the pad of my thumb over the smooth tip, picking up the slick fluid that was already leaking out.

And then I was stroking again, forcing myself to go slow, making myself wait, enjoying the burning need as much as I would the final release. My hips arched upward with every torturous glide of my fist that drew my precum out, and it slicked my movements; that's why I always liked masturbating dry, feeling that gradual slipperiness that eased the stroking bit by bit. I had to bite my lip to keep from moaning; the last thing I wanted was to have Tseng think something was wrong, and come bursting in expecting trouble.

That thought inspired interesting visions of him finding me like this, and deciding to join in. I could feel his hand join mine, his body next to me; his scent filled my senses, and I gasped. It was all I could do to not call his name. I was so close already, no matter how hard I tried to hold it back, and--

The phone rang, startling me again, and I moaned out a curse. I waited a moment to calm my breathing before flipping open the cell. "Rufus."

"When you're done in there, sir, I've got breakfast ready. Don't take too long or it'll get cold." Tseng. Did he know what I was doing?

"I was just being lazy, this bed's too comfortable. I'll be there in a minute." I started to get up, but his voice stopped me.

"Don't worry, sir, I know what's keeping you - I started to come in and wake you but you were a bit... preoccupied." And there was that amused tone he would get; I liked it when he would let himself relax enough to tease, even when it was me. That didn't keep my cheeks from reddening a bit, or my cock from twitching at the thought of him seeing me.

I don't know why, but he didn't hang up, and neither did I. My breathing quickened a bit as I picked up where I left off, rubbing my hand over my length, closing my eyes to picture his face, exotic despite its familiarity. "Mm... What did you make for breakfast, Tseng?" I asked quietly; I could hear my voice tremble a bit. I wanted to hear him while I touched myself.

"Eggs. Bacon. Toast with the marmalade you like. Juice and milk." He paused a moment. "Are you still masturbating, sir?"

"Mmhm," I responded, and let myself moan. I didn't dare quicken the pace; I was so close it was painful, and the sound of his voice was the perfect aphrodisiac for me right then. I stopped stroking, and dropped my hand to toy with my balls, rolling and squeezing them to let myself calm. "Please don't stop talking, Tseng."

For a moment he was silent, and I worried he'd hang up on me. "I made coffee as well, sir," he continued eventually. "I have your mug waiting; the cream and sugar is in it, but I didn't pour the coffee yet, so it will be hot when you get here."

"So thoughtful," I murmured. I had to lay the phone on my pillow and turn my head to hold it there, freeing both hands now. I picked up the slow, teasing pace, letting my grip slide from base to tip and pause there to squeeze. A gasp tore itself from my throat, and I heard an answering moan.

"...What are you doing, Tseng?" I asked softly, hoping my suspicions were right.

He groaned into my ear, and I shuddered at the sound. It was a struggle to keep quiet but I wanted to hear his answer. "I'm.. sorry, sir." He almost sounded breathless; I liked it. "But hearing you..." He trailed off, and I smiled, giving him another throaty moan.

"So you decided to join me," I said. It wasn't a question. I could hear his breathing, the occasional muffled sound as his hands did something he found pleasing. I had to stop again; gods, I was so hard. I just needed the right touch - but not yet. "I like that. That you find my pleasure so arousing." I was almost whispering; it was getting hard to control my breathing. "...Where are you, Tseng?"

He made a soft sound, and I couldn't help but wonder what he looked like at that moment, face contorted with pleasure, chest moving quickly as he pants. "I'm in my room," he said in a low voice. "In case... the others came home too soon."

Oh, that was perfect. Too perfect. But would he go along with it?

"Tseng," I whispered, moving my hand again. It was starting to hurt, keeping myself on the edge for so long, but it felt too good to stop yet. "Tseng, moan for me. Loud enough for me to hear without the phone."

He hesitated, and I wondered if I'd gone a bit too far. But then I heard it, through his wall and mine, in stereo thanks to the phone pressed to my ear. His moan was low and throaty, full of lust. I'd wanted to hear that for so long, and it was enough to push me past the razor's edge I'd been walking. "Mm, Tseng," I whispered, and choked back a cry as I came, erupting over my hand and the silk fabric of my shirt. It felt deliciously powerful; I hadn't came that hard in quite a while, especially by my own hand.

"Rufus!" Tseng gasped in my ear, and I heard his shuddering breath as he joined me. We were both panting, separated by walls and doors but together in pleasure more satisfying than anything I'd felt before. We just lay there for a moment; I was surprised at how content I felt. If the smell of breakfast wasn't making my stomach growl demandingly, I probably could've dozed off again, despite the mess I'd made.

"I'll meet you in the dining room," I said finally, forcing myself to get out of bed. I was already shedding my shirt when he replied.

"Of course, sir." The phone clicked off, and I grinned. I could get used to wake-up calls like that.

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I'd been glad there was no tension with Tseng when I arrived to take my usual seat at the table. He just set a plate before me, and sat at the other end with his own. A smile and a 'good morning', as if we hadn't been moaning at each other minutes before. I wouldn't complain, though; I didn't think I could stand it if what we did had made him uncomfortable with me.

We'd barely sat down to eat before Reno, Rude, and Elena burst through the door. Literally. Reno's always been energetic and childlike, so to see him stumble in - almost losing his balance before he caught himself - wasn't much of a surprise. Even sitting still, he somehow gives the impression of bouncing off the walls. As usual, he was rumpled and unkempt; I wondered if he had even bothered to take off his uniform when he slept last night. Elena was calmer, like an older sister, more than willing to smack the redhead when he makes yet another joke full of sexual innuendo. It looked like that's what might have happened; he was rubbing the back of his head as she followed him through the door, laughing at him. And Rude was the calm one, the tolerant father watching his unruly children, waiting until things got out of hand before stepping in. The peace never lasted long, though.

And honestly? I don't think I'd have it any other way.

They were my family, through thick and thin. I don't know what I did to deserve them, but I was glad they were around. I just watched silently as they gathered their own plates and joined us at the table, Rude and Reno together on one side and Elena on the other, as always. I didn't join their bantering, I usually didn't. I was content to just listen.

When I glanced up from my plate, Tseng was watching me with a slight smile, and I smiled back. I had a feeling he could tell what I was thinking, which wouldn't surprise me. He was always good at reading me, especially after being at my side for so long. I just winked, and he laughed.

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An hour later, I was sitting alone in my room, in the rather comfortable oversized chair I'd grown particularly fond of. It was sitting by the window, letting me read one of my favorite books without having to rely on artificial light. I was feeling a bit lazy, I hadn't even bothered to put on real clothes, and was just lounging about in my pajamas. At least I had taken the time to put on a clean set.

Somoene knocked on the door, and I tucked a finger between the pages to mark my place. "Come in," I said.

The door opened, and Reno stepped in, shutting it behind him. "Hiya, boss," he said, as he came over to sit on the edge of my bed. He was grinning, which wasn't out of place, but the way he was holding his hands behind his back was.

"Hello, Reno," I replied. "Something I can do for you?"

He didn't respond, but moved his hands, and I saw what he had been hiding. I felt something freeze solid inside of me, my eyes widening as I stared at it.

My notebook.

I'd forgotten it at his place. All my thoughts were in that book, and Reno had found it, the man who used to be a professional thief, who felt no hesitation when it came to personal privacy. I could do nothing but stare; I don't think I was even breathing.

He surprised me by tossing the book; it landed in my lap, still closed. "Boss, relax. You look shell-shocked, yo." I could tell from the tone of his voice he was trying to keep from laughing while I stared at my notebook as if it had bitten me. Maybe, in a way, it had. It's a tiny thing, maybe six inches long, four wide, nothing but paper and a bit of wire, but right then it weighed a ton as it lay on my leg.

I turned my head to look at Reno where he sat with that smug grin of his, as if he'd played the greatest joke in the world. "You read it." I wasn't asking, I could see the look in his eyes. I wanted to be angry; in a way, I was, but not at him. At myself, for being stupid enough to leave something so personal laying around. But more than anger was the dread, nestled cold and writhing in my belly, making me feel utterly ill.

Reno saw it, and he shook his head. He stood, and moved over, stopping only when he could crouch next to my chair. "I said relax, yo. Yeah I read it. Found it on my table this morning when I was looking for you. Figured you'd left me a note or something, since you ran off without a word."

I couldn't look at him anymore, but when I turned away, I saw the black cover staring back up at me. To escape, I closed my eyes. "You read it..." This time I was whispering, waiting for him to start laughing at me.

Both books were pulled from me, one swept off my lap and the other knocked from my lax grip. Reno then did the last thing I expected - he settled himself across my thighs, his legs propped on one arm of my chair while his back leaned against the other. His arm draped over my shoulder, and its companion dropped down at his side, dangling next to my knee. "Boss, ya really gotta lighten up, yo. Yeah, I read your book, but so what? Believe it or not, I know when to keep my mouth shut, yo."

My eyes opened, and I looked at him. Despite the absurdity of our position, he was unusually serious, watching me with those green eyes of his. Apparently he'd been waiting for that before he continued. "Nobody else will know what it says, unless you show 'em, yo. They don't even know it exists. Well, Tseng might, since he's practically your shadow, yo, but I doubt he knows what's in there."

I dropped my head back with what was probably the most relieved sigh I'd ever given. I'd expected him to laugh about it, to tell the others like it was common gossip. I hadn't considered blackmail, though I knew it was entirely possible - at least I had enough faith in him for that. And I knew he was telling the truth. That's one thing about my Turks - while they might not always tell me the whole truth, they didn't lie to me, even the unpredictable Reno.

"Thank you," I said simply. Being someone who for years had read my intentions in even the shortest of words, he knew what I meant.

"No problem, yo," he replied in his usual chipper voice. "So when you gonna tell him?"

I blinked in confusion, tilting my head forward to peer at him again. "When am I going to tell who what?"

"Tell Tseng you love him, yo." He was grinning, one eyebrow arched upward in that playful expression that meant he knew he was toeing the line, and enjoying it thoroughly. It was something he was good at doing.

Needlessly to say, the question floored me. My mind flipped through the pages in the notebook; I practically had each one memorized, even the one I wrote last night. "I never said--"

"You didn't have to, yo," Reno replied. "Most of the stuff you wrote either talks about him or is addressed to him. And in case you haven't forgotten, I'm still a Turk, yo. I've seen the way you watch him." He paused, tilting his head in a thoughtful expression that was very un-Reno-ish. "Come to think of it, he should have too."

I sighed, and leaned away from him to rest my hand over my eyes. Great, just great. "If I say I'll think about it, will you get off me?" I asked, perhaps a bit more snippy than I intended. Annoying or not, he was only trying to help.

"Sure thing, boss." He patted my shoulder and slid off my lap in a move that could only be called slinking. How the hell someone who's all bones and jagged angles can move so fluidly is beyond me. He crossed to the door and pulled it open, but paused inside the doorway.

"Hey, boss?" Reno said softly. He waited untill I looked over at him. "I don't think you're a cold, heartless bastard, yo. Not anymore."

With that, he was gone, leaving me speechless, but somehow like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders.