I Blame Rufus
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Final Fantasy VII › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
738
Reviews:
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Currently Reading:
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Category:
Final Fantasy VII › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
738
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
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.
I Blame Rufus
I Blame Rufus – Hojo x Reeve
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
He would never forgive Rufus Shinra for this.
Sent to Hojo’s lab.
HA! Banished is more like it. A simple potion or a cure materia would fix him right up! It was only a flesh wound! Just an accident with another employee in the hallway. He was barely even bleeding. No reason to send him here to confront the creepy scientist who was rumored to be conducting human experimentation. Rumor had it he’d been conducting the experiments for almost 25 years now! Then again…there were plenty of odd rumors surrounding the Shinra mansion and it’s inhabitants. His favorite was the one about the vampire sleeping in the basement. Vampire! Honestly.
The elevator dinged to signify that he had reached the lab in the lower levels of the manor. He stepped out into the hallway, poking his head into the door of Hojo’s lab. He shivered slightly, the man and one of his assistants was working with terrifyingly large syringes filled with a glowing green…goo that he preferred not to attempt to identify. He cleared his throat uncomfortably.
It caught the scientist’s attention. He turned his head slightly, grinning as he saw the man.
“Ahh. The president had said he needed to send someone down to be looked over. I did not expect he would be sending you.” He said it with a leer across his lips that sent a shiver down the man’s spine. His eyes took in the examination table with it’s obvious leather restraints, the numerous syringes and scalpels, the large test tube in the middle of the room large enough for a human specimen. He was about to high tail it the other direction when the man spoke again.
“Please, take a seat on the examination table, Mr. Tuesti. Remove your shirt so I can have a look at that arm.”
Well shit. No going back now.
He walked slowly over to the table, removing his jacket, then his shirt and tie, hanging them over a small chair nearby. He blinked. The upper arm of the shirt was ripped and stained a deep red. Damn. He’d hurt himself worse than he thought.
He cautiously slid onto the black leather surface, unable to shake the feeling that more than simple every-day research took place here. No one needing a black leather examination table complete with straps and buckles perfectly placed for human retraining was doing “simple every-day research”.
He felt the doctor walk up behind him and rake his eyes over his bared upper body. It was an eerie feeling. Hojo’s cold hands slid over his shoulder as he adjusted his glasses, looking at the wound on his arm. “Please lay down, Mr. Tuesti.” Reeve gulped. He slowly swung his legs onto the table, leaning back until his heated flesh met cold leather. It took every ounce of control in his body not to go running the other direction. But there was an assistant here. Hojo wouldn’t try anything. Right? Right?
The scientist sat on a small rolling stool, craning a light down to his arm, examining the damage. He rolled himself across the floor to a small cabinet, removing a bottle and some gauze, along with a small black pouch. He rolled back to Reeve’s side.
He began his work, rather routine medical procedure. Carefully wiping the blood off his arm, pouring a bit of the bottle’s contents onto a piece of the gauze and wiping it over the wound.
OW. He jerked the arm away, hissing in pain and fairly certain he had just been exposed to horrific experimental chemicals that would char his arm off in a matter of moments.
…
He took a few deep breaths. The panic subsided. It was nothing but antiseptic wash, he was sure. But damn if it didn’t sting!
Hojo was not amused. He sighed softly, taking Reeve’s wrist with more force than needed and pinning it at his side. Reeve’s chest tightened slightly.
When he felt a cool leather band slip around his wrist and lock in place, restraining his arm next to him, he panicked. It didn’t affect Hojo much, a small smile of amusement tracing his lips. He simply called to his assistant, who came over; attaching his other wrist to the opposite restraint, and a wide band around his torso to keep him in place.
The scientist looked at the assistant, nodding his head and shooing him away with his hand. The assistant bowed slightly, and exited the lab.
“Honestly, Mr. Tuesti. All this fuss over a bit of antiseptic.”
So here he was. Strapped down to an examination table, in nothing but his pants, alone with the infamous Professor Hojo, the Head of Biochemical Research, in his creepy fucking lab, surrounded by experimental drugs and god only knows what else.
Yeah. This had gone from bad to worse.
His chest heaved with heavy and still slightly panicked breaths, his usually immaculate brown hair mussed in the small struggle, a small bit of perspiration broken out in a light sheen across his body. He closed his eyes briefly, trying to calm down. It was his own fault he was strapped down. Not because Hojo was a pervert who wanted to conduct creepy experiments. Right? Right. Of course. If he just calmed down and let the doctor patch him up, he would be let go and he could get down to the task of murdering Rufus. Simple. Just stay calm.
He growled softly as the antiseptic touched against the wound again. He turned his head, looking down where the scientist was swiping the gauze. He took another deep calming breath.
“You are in need of stitches, Mr. Tuesti. I carry no anesthetics, but I’m sure a man of your caliber can tolerate a bit of pain, hmm?”
Reeve gulped. Hard. He nodded a bit shakily, not liking the situation at all. “I’ll…I’ll be fine.” The scientist nodded, opening the small leather pouch and retrieving sutures and a small needle. Reeve’s stomach turned slightly. He hated needles.
As Hojo began to stitch the wound closed, Reeve clenched his eyes and his teeth. He supposed the professor was being as gentle as he could… But damn it! It still hurt like hell! If he hadn’t been strapped down, he was sure he would have smacked the needle clean out of the professor’s hands. In retrospect, he supposed it was a good thing he was strapped down. No need to anger the crazy man. One could never be sure what the scientist could do.
The doctor finished quickly. It had been simple, and though uncomfortable bordering on painful, altogether bearable. Now. All that was left to do was be unstrapped, get the hell out of this lab, and kill Rufus.
There was only one problem.
Hojo was making no move to untie him.
He pulled slightly at the restraints, startled when the professor smacked him lightly on the shoulder.
“It would do no good to tear your stitches, now.” He paused, smirking.
“Since you cannot stay still, it appears I will have to keep you here for observation.” Reeve’s eyes went wide.
“N-no. That isn’t necessary. I assure you.”
The professor leered at him again. “On the contrary. I believe it is quite necessary.” Reeve couldn’t help the shudder that went through him at the words. This was not good.
As the professor stood, looking down at him, he nearly began screaming for help. Hojo seemed to anticipate this reaction.
“If you make a single noise, I guarantee I will have a syringe in your neck faster than you can form the first syllable.” Reeve’s eyes went wide again, mouth quickly going dry. He nodded, seeing no other alternative, still struggling slightly against the straps. The professor pressed a button, moving the table from horizontal to the floor, to nearly vertical. He met Hojo’s eyes.
He closed his eyes tightly, resting his head to the side as the man’s hand reached for the buckle on his belt, slipping them off his slim hips, the professor smirking as he discovered Reeve had forgone undergarments. Of course. The ONE day he goes commando, is the ONE day he gets molested by the resident evil scientist. Great.
The man trailed a fingertip up his inner thigh, over his sac and completely limp cock. There was no way he was getting it up for this creep. No way. The scientist just laughed softly, stepping back and walking back over to his cabinet.
“It appears you need some…convincing.” Reeve could hear him rummaging around, the tell tale sound of a flicking nail against glass. He was tapping the air from a needle. He began to struggle again. FUCK that. Screw “not good”. This was horrible.
The scientist came back to his side, leaning over him and slipping the syringe into his neck. He cried out softly, squeezing his eyes shut as he felt a cool liquid seep into his veins. The doctor pulled away, grinning.
“We will give the substance some time to take effect.”
He walked away, disposing of the needle in a biohazard container, sitting down at his computer and beginning to type away. And Reeve was left there. Naked, and tied to a lab table with god-knows-what injected into his veins. He thumped his head back against the leather, sighing deeply. Rufus was going to PAY for this.
His head began to feel fuzzy. His heart began to pound, his breathing becoming shallow. He wasn’t sure what was going on, and he looked up at the scientist, eyes wide. Hojo was ignoring him, engrossed in whatever it was he was doing on the computer.
A few moments later, he began to sweat slightly. A few moments after that, he became acutely aware of his surroundings. The smell of the leather, the feel of being tied down. And for some reason, that was a turn on. He felt himself begin to harden, the cool air of the lab drifting over him, making him shiver. Before long, he was straining, his erection weeping. He became desperate, moaning softly and longing for any kind of relief from the frustration. And wasn’t he lucky. His soft keens of desperation had caught Hojo’s attention.
The scientist stood, walking back over to him, grinning. “I see you’ve been thoroughly convinced of your…desires, hmm?” Reeve glared slightly, biting his lip. Hojo just laughed, reaching out and taking the man’s cock in his hand, running his thumb over the head, toying with the copious amounts of precum he found there. Reeve pressed his head back into the table, moaning softly.
Every part of his mind was screaming that this was horrible, wrong, and fucked up. This crazy fucking scientist was going to RAPE him. But his hand, rough from years of scrubbing chemicals from his skin felt heavenly against him. Reeve bucked into his hand slightly, the pleasure making his mind fuzzier than it already was, dulling the screaming voices of his conscience and his logic.
The hand began to move steadily, slowly. Working him, slick with the precum that had dripped down as the drug worked its way through his veins. His arms strained at the straps around him, his mind fighting to get away; body fighting for more. The professor was obviously amused with the result, sick fuck that he was. He pressed himself closer to Reeve, lightly nipping at his neck and jaw line, reveling in the soft moans and the movement of his hips.
Reeve tensed slightly as he felt the man’s hand slip over his hip, down over his ass and further until the slick fingers reached his entrance, lightly teasing him. His legs were drawn up to rest around Hojo’s waist, the man grinding against him, smirking as the brunette moaned loudly, pulling at his restraints in an effort to get his arms around the scientist.
One finger, then two. The brunette bit his lip, moaning loudly and tossing his head to the side. The scientist fumbled with his own pants for a moment, pulling himself free with a soft sigh of relief. Hojo pressed himself against Reeve’s entrance, teasingly pressing in just a small amount, then pulling away, smirking at the other man’s desperate whimpers and struggles.
“H-Hojo…please….” His voice was heavy with need. Granted, it was with need for the crazy, creepy scientist that everyone whispered about in the hallways, but that didn’t matter now. What mattered was what the scientist was doing to him, the way it felt. So, so good.
The older man knew neither of them would last long, pushing into the bound man with one firm thrust. The loud moans pulled from both of their throats sounded around the empty lab. The black haired man leaned forward, biting and kissing along Reeve’s neck, kissing down to the sutures on his arm, licking at the blood that seeped around the stitching from the strain and struggle. He thrust into the compliant body pressed against him slowly, deeply, rubbing against that little spot inside Reeve he knew would drive him crazy.
He was right. The brunette cried out in pleasure, bucking his hips against the other man, struggling at the straps again. So fucking wrong, but so fucking good. Reeve couldn’t get enough of the scientist, wishing the deep thrusts wouldn’t ever stop. But the end was inevitable. Both could feel their releases creeping up on them. Hojo’s hand never stopped working at his dripping length, the rough hand teasing him, bringing his climax crashing closer and closer.
It wasn’t long before Hojo’s hips began to move faster, harsher. Release was close. Their bodies crushed together, the scientist’s hand moving quicker and quicker. Reeve let out a loud moan as he came into the other man’s hand, Hojo releasing deep inside the bound man, pulling away quickly and wiping his hand on Reeve’s bloody shirt. He tucked himself back into his pants, panting softly, fixing his hair and straightening his glasses and his coat. He pressed a button, moving the table back to it’s horizontal position.
Reeve lay there, panting himself, the drug’s effects quickly wearing off; the feeling of need and lust being replaced by nothing but sheer disgust.
Fucking. Gross.
Hojo had the decency to toss a thin sheet over his exposed body, smirking at him.
“I look forward to the next time we meet Mr. Tuesti.” Reeve’s stomach turned. He wouldn’t come back NEAR this floor even if his life depended on it. No. Hell no. He started to protest as the scientist began walking away, yelling for his assistant, but thought better of it. The assistant had likely seen such violation before, and Reeve quickly decided he would rather deal with an assistant than be in Hojo’s presence for one more second.
The assistant released him, leaving him to clean up at the stainless steel sink. Reeve dressed himself as best he could, tossing the completely ruined shirt in one of the nearest ‘biohazard’ containers. He stalked out of the lab shirtless, tie and jacket clutched in his hand. Rufus was as good as dead.
He paused a moment, feeling Hojo’s…essence slip out of him, staining his dark trousers. He growled softly. He punched in the elevator button for his own floor. Rufus would die. There would be blood.
Just as soon as Reeve had taken a shower.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Oh my god. Reeve, I am SO sorry. :XD:
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
He would never forgive Rufus Shinra for this.
Sent to Hojo’s lab.
HA! Banished is more like it. A simple potion or a cure materia would fix him right up! It was only a flesh wound! Just an accident with another employee in the hallway. He was barely even bleeding. No reason to send him here to confront the creepy scientist who was rumored to be conducting human experimentation. Rumor had it he’d been conducting the experiments for almost 25 years now! Then again…there were plenty of odd rumors surrounding the Shinra mansion and it’s inhabitants. His favorite was the one about the vampire sleeping in the basement. Vampire! Honestly.
The elevator dinged to signify that he had reached the lab in the lower levels of the manor. He stepped out into the hallway, poking his head into the door of Hojo’s lab. He shivered slightly, the man and one of his assistants was working with terrifyingly large syringes filled with a glowing green…goo that he preferred not to attempt to identify. He cleared his throat uncomfortably.
It caught the scientist’s attention. He turned his head slightly, grinning as he saw the man.
“Ahh. The president had said he needed to send someone down to be looked over. I did not expect he would be sending you.” He said it with a leer across his lips that sent a shiver down the man’s spine. His eyes took in the examination table with it’s obvious leather restraints, the numerous syringes and scalpels, the large test tube in the middle of the room large enough for a human specimen. He was about to high tail it the other direction when the man spoke again.
“Please, take a seat on the examination table, Mr. Tuesti. Remove your shirt so I can have a look at that arm.”
Well shit. No going back now.
He walked slowly over to the table, removing his jacket, then his shirt and tie, hanging them over a small chair nearby. He blinked. The upper arm of the shirt was ripped and stained a deep red. Damn. He’d hurt himself worse than he thought.
He cautiously slid onto the black leather surface, unable to shake the feeling that more than simple every-day research took place here. No one needing a black leather examination table complete with straps and buckles perfectly placed for human retraining was doing “simple every-day research”.
He felt the doctor walk up behind him and rake his eyes over his bared upper body. It was an eerie feeling. Hojo’s cold hands slid over his shoulder as he adjusted his glasses, looking at the wound on his arm. “Please lay down, Mr. Tuesti.” Reeve gulped. He slowly swung his legs onto the table, leaning back until his heated flesh met cold leather. It took every ounce of control in his body not to go running the other direction. But there was an assistant here. Hojo wouldn’t try anything. Right? Right?
The scientist sat on a small rolling stool, craning a light down to his arm, examining the damage. He rolled himself across the floor to a small cabinet, removing a bottle and some gauze, along with a small black pouch. He rolled back to Reeve’s side.
He began his work, rather routine medical procedure. Carefully wiping the blood off his arm, pouring a bit of the bottle’s contents onto a piece of the gauze and wiping it over the wound.
OW. He jerked the arm away, hissing in pain and fairly certain he had just been exposed to horrific experimental chemicals that would char his arm off in a matter of moments.
…
He took a few deep breaths. The panic subsided. It was nothing but antiseptic wash, he was sure. But damn if it didn’t sting!
Hojo was not amused. He sighed softly, taking Reeve’s wrist with more force than needed and pinning it at his side. Reeve’s chest tightened slightly.
When he felt a cool leather band slip around his wrist and lock in place, restraining his arm next to him, he panicked. It didn’t affect Hojo much, a small smile of amusement tracing his lips. He simply called to his assistant, who came over; attaching his other wrist to the opposite restraint, and a wide band around his torso to keep him in place.
The scientist looked at the assistant, nodding his head and shooing him away with his hand. The assistant bowed slightly, and exited the lab.
“Honestly, Mr. Tuesti. All this fuss over a bit of antiseptic.”
So here he was. Strapped down to an examination table, in nothing but his pants, alone with the infamous Professor Hojo, the Head of Biochemical Research, in his creepy fucking lab, surrounded by experimental drugs and god only knows what else.
Yeah. This had gone from bad to worse.
His chest heaved with heavy and still slightly panicked breaths, his usually immaculate brown hair mussed in the small struggle, a small bit of perspiration broken out in a light sheen across his body. He closed his eyes briefly, trying to calm down. It was his own fault he was strapped down. Not because Hojo was a pervert who wanted to conduct creepy experiments. Right? Right. Of course. If he just calmed down and let the doctor patch him up, he would be let go and he could get down to the task of murdering Rufus. Simple. Just stay calm.
He growled softly as the antiseptic touched against the wound again. He turned his head, looking down where the scientist was swiping the gauze. He took another deep calming breath.
“You are in need of stitches, Mr. Tuesti. I carry no anesthetics, but I’m sure a man of your caliber can tolerate a bit of pain, hmm?”
Reeve gulped. Hard. He nodded a bit shakily, not liking the situation at all. “I’ll…I’ll be fine.” The scientist nodded, opening the small leather pouch and retrieving sutures and a small needle. Reeve’s stomach turned slightly. He hated needles.
As Hojo began to stitch the wound closed, Reeve clenched his eyes and his teeth. He supposed the professor was being as gentle as he could… But damn it! It still hurt like hell! If he hadn’t been strapped down, he was sure he would have smacked the needle clean out of the professor’s hands. In retrospect, he supposed it was a good thing he was strapped down. No need to anger the crazy man. One could never be sure what the scientist could do.
The doctor finished quickly. It had been simple, and though uncomfortable bordering on painful, altogether bearable. Now. All that was left to do was be unstrapped, get the hell out of this lab, and kill Rufus.
There was only one problem.
Hojo was making no move to untie him.
He pulled slightly at the restraints, startled when the professor smacked him lightly on the shoulder.
“It would do no good to tear your stitches, now.” He paused, smirking.
“Since you cannot stay still, it appears I will have to keep you here for observation.” Reeve’s eyes went wide.
“N-no. That isn’t necessary. I assure you.”
The professor leered at him again. “On the contrary. I believe it is quite necessary.” Reeve couldn’t help the shudder that went through him at the words. This was not good.
As the professor stood, looking down at him, he nearly began screaming for help. Hojo seemed to anticipate this reaction.
“If you make a single noise, I guarantee I will have a syringe in your neck faster than you can form the first syllable.” Reeve’s eyes went wide again, mouth quickly going dry. He nodded, seeing no other alternative, still struggling slightly against the straps. The professor pressed a button, moving the table from horizontal to the floor, to nearly vertical. He met Hojo’s eyes.
He closed his eyes tightly, resting his head to the side as the man’s hand reached for the buckle on his belt, slipping them off his slim hips, the professor smirking as he discovered Reeve had forgone undergarments. Of course. The ONE day he goes commando, is the ONE day he gets molested by the resident evil scientist. Great.
The man trailed a fingertip up his inner thigh, over his sac and completely limp cock. There was no way he was getting it up for this creep. No way. The scientist just laughed softly, stepping back and walking back over to his cabinet.
“It appears you need some…convincing.” Reeve could hear him rummaging around, the tell tale sound of a flicking nail against glass. He was tapping the air from a needle. He began to struggle again. FUCK that. Screw “not good”. This was horrible.
The scientist came back to his side, leaning over him and slipping the syringe into his neck. He cried out softly, squeezing his eyes shut as he felt a cool liquid seep into his veins. The doctor pulled away, grinning.
“We will give the substance some time to take effect.”
He walked away, disposing of the needle in a biohazard container, sitting down at his computer and beginning to type away. And Reeve was left there. Naked, and tied to a lab table with god-knows-what injected into his veins. He thumped his head back against the leather, sighing deeply. Rufus was going to PAY for this.
His head began to feel fuzzy. His heart began to pound, his breathing becoming shallow. He wasn’t sure what was going on, and he looked up at the scientist, eyes wide. Hojo was ignoring him, engrossed in whatever it was he was doing on the computer.
A few moments later, he began to sweat slightly. A few moments after that, he became acutely aware of his surroundings. The smell of the leather, the feel of being tied down. And for some reason, that was a turn on. He felt himself begin to harden, the cool air of the lab drifting over him, making him shiver. Before long, he was straining, his erection weeping. He became desperate, moaning softly and longing for any kind of relief from the frustration. And wasn’t he lucky. His soft keens of desperation had caught Hojo’s attention.
The scientist stood, walking back over to him, grinning. “I see you’ve been thoroughly convinced of your…desires, hmm?” Reeve glared slightly, biting his lip. Hojo just laughed, reaching out and taking the man’s cock in his hand, running his thumb over the head, toying with the copious amounts of precum he found there. Reeve pressed his head back into the table, moaning softly.
Every part of his mind was screaming that this was horrible, wrong, and fucked up. This crazy fucking scientist was going to RAPE him. But his hand, rough from years of scrubbing chemicals from his skin felt heavenly against him. Reeve bucked into his hand slightly, the pleasure making his mind fuzzier than it already was, dulling the screaming voices of his conscience and his logic.
The hand began to move steadily, slowly. Working him, slick with the precum that had dripped down as the drug worked its way through his veins. His arms strained at the straps around him, his mind fighting to get away; body fighting for more. The professor was obviously amused with the result, sick fuck that he was. He pressed himself closer to Reeve, lightly nipping at his neck and jaw line, reveling in the soft moans and the movement of his hips.
Reeve tensed slightly as he felt the man’s hand slip over his hip, down over his ass and further until the slick fingers reached his entrance, lightly teasing him. His legs were drawn up to rest around Hojo’s waist, the man grinding against him, smirking as the brunette moaned loudly, pulling at his restraints in an effort to get his arms around the scientist.
One finger, then two. The brunette bit his lip, moaning loudly and tossing his head to the side. The scientist fumbled with his own pants for a moment, pulling himself free with a soft sigh of relief. Hojo pressed himself against Reeve’s entrance, teasingly pressing in just a small amount, then pulling away, smirking at the other man’s desperate whimpers and struggles.
“H-Hojo…please….” His voice was heavy with need. Granted, it was with need for the crazy, creepy scientist that everyone whispered about in the hallways, but that didn’t matter now. What mattered was what the scientist was doing to him, the way it felt. So, so good.
The older man knew neither of them would last long, pushing into the bound man with one firm thrust. The loud moans pulled from both of their throats sounded around the empty lab. The black haired man leaned forward, biting and kissing along Reeve’s neck, kissing down to the sutures on his arm, licking at the blood that seeped around the stitching from the strain and struggle. He thrust into the compliant body pressed against him slowly, deeply, rubbing against that little spot inside Reeve he knew would drive him crazy.
He was right. The brunette cried out in pleasure, bucking his hips against the other man, struggling at the straps again. So fucking wrong, but so fucking good. Reeve couldn’t get enough of the scientist, wishing the deep thrusts wouldn’t ever stop. But the end was inevitable. Both could feel their releases creeping up on them. Hojo’s hand never stopped working at his dripping length, the rough hand teasing him, bringing his climax crashing closer and closer.
It wasn’t long before Hojo’s hips began to move faster, harsher. Release was close. Their bodies crushed together, the scientist’s hand moving quicker and quicker. Reeve let out a loud moan as he came into the other man’s hand, Hojo releasing deep inside the bound man, pulling away quickly and wiping his hand on Reeve’s bloody shirt. He tucked himself back into his pants, panting softly, fixing his hair and straightening his glasses and his coat. He pressed a button, moving the table back to it’s horizontal position.
Reeve lay there, panting himself, the drug’s effects quickly wearing off; the feeling of need and lust being replaced by nothing but sheer disgust.
Fucking. Gross.
Hojo had the decency to toss a thin sheet over his exposed body, smirking at him.
“I look forward to the next time we meet Mr. Tuesti.” Reeve’s stomach turned. He wouldn’t come back NEAR this floor even if his life depended on it. No. Hell no. He started to protest as the scientist began walking away, yelling for his assistant, but thought better of it. The assistant had likely seen such violation before, and Reeve quickly decided he would rather deal with an assistant than be in Hojo’s presence for one more second.
The assistant released him, leaving him to clean up at the stainless steel sink. Reeve dressed himself as best he could, tossing the completely ruined shirt in one of the nearest ‘biohazard’ containers. He stalked out of the lab shirtless, tie and jacket clutched in his hand. Rufus was as good as dead.
He paused a moment, feeling Hojo’s…essence slip out of him, staining his dark trousers. He growled softly. He punched in the elevator button for his own floor. Rufus would die. There would be blood.
Just as soon as Reeve had taken a shower.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Oh my god. Reeve, I am SO sorry. :XD: