Paperwork sucked. Paperwork pushing sucked doubly, triply and perhaps even quadruply. Rufus sometimes felt he was the world's most highly paid pencilpusher at times, which he grandly
declared to the world whenever he happened to have drunk too much coffee- which was damn near every night.
Rufus scrubbed at his face. His hand hurt now, and over the duration of the long day, his signature had deteriorated to a meaningless scrawl barely recognizable as a R and a S. He squinted his eyes. No, perhaps it was more recognizable as a B and a Z. Maybe even a 4.
Ceasing to care had never been so agonizing. He only briefly scanned through an acquisition form from Scarlet, wincing as he noticed how she had dotted every i with a circle or a heart. The
frightening thing was that the form was typed, not written in longhand.
The hell with it, he scowled to himself. Signing it would be easier on him than to get into a wrangle with the stilettoed Medusa. She could have her damned- what was she asking for, anyway- Proud Clod, was it? Fine. Have it. He flexed his hand, wincing at the cracks and pops, then scrawled a semi-legible approximation of his name on the line.
Next. Rufus picked up a grimy, creased sheet of notebook paper, written over in a close, cramped hand. He scrubbed at the bridge of his nose, feeling another headache coming on. Didn't this fellow know how to spell? And this Mr. Highwind seemed to think 'fuck' was a proper adjective, and used it prodigiously and vociferously. Rufus tapped his pen against his teeth in frustration. These types (and quality) of paperwork should have been caught and taken care of by another flunky and should never have been able to reach the desk of the vicepresident. Palmer was supposed to have taken care of this- he was, after all, the head of the Space Department. Rufus grinned ironically.
'Supposed to' and 'did' were two different things with that man.
He leaned over and stuck Mr. Highwind's paper in the shredder.
That motion caused him to brush against the horrendously large pile of paperwork on his desk, and to knock it over. Rufus used several new terms he had learned from Mr. Highwind, as softly as he could. He certainly didn't want his secretary to come in and see her boss as anything else but immaculate and controlled.
He got up to pick up the papers, then had to grab the desk frantically as his legs began to wake up and complain. Incidently, the jarring of the desk also shook off the rest of the papers that had survived quake number one.
Rufus plonked himself back into his chair and rubbed his gritty eyes with one hand while rubbing his calves with the other, wincing at the pins and prickles. He thonked his forehead down on the desk and closed his eyes. At times like this, he wished he had the option to quit. At times like this, he felt like pitching himself off the balcony and at least get a rush from the wind in his face. And then afterwards, he'd never have to sign another fucking paper again.
He needed a break. Right now. But which kind? He smirked. Coffee, cigarette, or other?
Other, definitely other. The coffee and the cigarette wouldn't come to him; he had to get up for them. The alternative, however....
Rufus leaned over and pressed the talk button on the intercom. Keeping his voice idle and bored as if he hadn't spent the last eight hours ripping his hair out over paperwork, he said, "Mrs. Darrick. Call Tseng Hui in for me, will you?"
She answered, knowing better than to question why he wanted to see the Turk and knowing not to remind him of his upcoming meeting, "Yes sir." A tremble in her voice made Rufus smile mirthlessly. Fear was a good thing- it made people more efficient. Mrs. Darrick had learned well from the suspicious demise of her predecessor.
A few minutes later, there came a hard knock on his door and Tseng stepped in, his face expressionless.
"You wanted to see me, sir?", he asked, his eyes betraying that he knew full well what Rufus wanted. A small gleam came to his black eyes as he noted how Rufus' chilly blue eyes softened and swept over his face, then downwards over his body.
Tseng quietly shut the huge double doors and locked them, leaning against them momentarily before moving to stand in front of the desk. A small smile tugged at his normally stern mouth.
Rufus smiled back, setting aside the papers he had been neatly stacking, slipping out of his chair to stand before the Turk. Already his headache was lightening. Somewhere he had read sex was good for that... He reached out and ran a light finger up and down Tseng's hard chest, moved it in a circle suspiciously near the Turk's nipple, then up his neck to the point of his chin. "I was... bored," Rufus mildly remarked, engrossed in touching the smooth skin. His headache was entirely gone now. I really ought to do this more...
Tseng held still for the treatment, muscles jumping under Rufus' roving finger. Rufus eventually stroked up to his cheekbone then stopped, laying his palm flat against Tseng's cheek and cradling his cheek.
Tseng reached out and put his arms around the blonde, drawing him close. "We can't have that now, can we?" he replied, nipping Rufus on the nose and holding down his arms so he couldn't retaliate.
Rufus made a small noise- part whimper and part laugh, and tilted his head up to meet Tseng's kiss. It was at first a gentle meeting of lips, warm and moist but not forceful, then roughened as Rufus squirmed an arm free to curl around Tseng's neck to press him closer. His tongue flicked out and met Tseng's, curling together and battling for dominion until Rufus submitted and allowed the other to leisurely explore his mouth.
After an eternity Tseng broke off with a gasp and licked at his shiny lips, breathing fast.
Rufus rested his smooth cheek against Tseng's and breathed, "It's been so long..."
Tseng chuckled at that. "So long? The last time was last night! Horny little-" He paused as Rufus leaned against the desk, running in hands up and down his own torso, toying with the buttons.
Shooting Tseng a seductive glance to make sure he was paying attention, Rufus reached up and slowly maneuvered the top button out of its hole. He went on to the next, drawing circles around it and picking at the button, not quite undoing it. Tseng remained
immobilized, a flush rising in his cheeks, eyes focused on Rufus' hands. Rufus looked up again with heavy half-lidded eyelashes and licked his lips slowly, popping the next one. That was as far as he got.
Tseng, losing the patience that normally characterized him,
muttered an unintelligible curse and reached forward and ripped the overcoat open himself. Damn he hated it when Rufus was being seductive on purpose, which the blonde did often. Rufus knew the charismatic power he held over men and women alike, and enjoyed using it for his own purposes... Tseng hated it when Rufus used it on him because the desire he had for Rufus was his only vulnerability he could not control. He growled and latched onto Rufus' neck, sucking hard and leaving a red weal, much like a territorial mark.
Rufus laughed at the Turk's impatience and shrugged the impeding garment off, then reached to help Tseng with his own, taking care to brush his palms 'accidentally' against Tseng's nipples. And again and again. Tseng drew a strangled breath, grasping Rufus' hips and pistoning his against them. His hands drew Rufus' black turtleneck out of where it was tucked into his pants and slipped his hands underneath it, exploring the smooth silky skin of Rufus' back.
His vile mood now dissipated, Rufus was feeling playful. He unbuttoned Tseng's shirt halfway to expose a large expanse of skin. He kissed it and then laid a trail of saliva up, up and around the nipple without touching it. Tseng scraped his nails against Rufus' back in frustration, his face contorted. Rufus smiled, then trailed up and nipped at where his collarbone jutted out, and then went further and then cheerfully planted a hickey on his neck as revenge for the one Rufus had received.
Tseng protested with a muted growl, and yanked Rufus's turtleneck up and over his head, effectively pinioning him. This earned him a muffled yelp of protest. He pushed Rufus up against the desk as Rufus struggled to excriate himself and leaned down and nibbled at his neck while wedging his thigh between Rufus's legs up against a semi-hard erection. With the full pressure of his thigh, he rubbed the tension teasingly.
Rufus ceased wriggling and uttered a soft cry, pushing up against Tseng, seeking more. The Turk smiled, enjoying the feel of the wiry young blonde underneath him and utterly helpless beneath Tseng's skilled
ministrations. Chuckling evilly to himself, Tseng ran his hands up and down Rufus' torso and pinched his nipples, rolling them between his fingers while nibbling the smaller man's neck and rubbing between his legs with his thigh.
Rufus moaned. He couldn't see! and he desperately wanted to see where Tseng was, to get his hands free to torture Tseng like Tseng was torturing him... He felt a stirring of air, then felt a warm moist mouth envelop his nipple and tease it into a hard pebble, scraping teeth over it almost threateningly. Rufus hated to be in this vulnerable position, yet something about his blindness and his bondage made it more exciting than it ever had been before.
He felt Tseng draw back, then waiting and hoping for equal attention to his other nipple, was surprised when Tseng blew on the wet spot, sending a jolt of shivery pleasure straight to his spine and groin. He gave a frustrated yowl. "Tseng, get this blasted thing off me!" He squirmed some more and his breathing grew ragged as his erection rubbed against Tseng's thigh again.
The Turk apparently wasn't listening, only going back to working his nipple, moving his thigh back and forth. Rufus tried another tactic. "Tseng, you're so fuckin' fired if you don't get this fuckin' thing off me right now!"
Tseng gave a low chuckle and bit his nipple in castigation, calling his bluff. Rufus yelped at the sudden pain. "Please?" he tried. Damn Tseng, somehow the Turk always found a way to make him beg.
Finally Tseng took mercy on him, working the black turtleneck off and throwing it over his shoulder. Rufus, having regained his sight and looking considerably more disheveled, took advantage of his new-found freedom and yanked Tseng down by his tie for another long drawn-out kiss, devouring the surprised Turk's mouth.
The blonde reached down and rubbed the hard ridge he found there in Tseng's pants, causing Tseng to bite his lip. Rufus' fingers trailed up and quickly unbuckled the belt, undoing the fly and sliding his hands down, bringing the pants with them. He glanced down and began to chuckle.
Tseng, who had been working on Rufus's pants, looked up. "What?", he asked defensively.
Rufus continued to snicker and after Tseng poked him in the side with annoyance, he managed to wheeze, "Smiley-face boxers??"
Tseng raised an eyebrow, then slipped them off quickly and stuffed them out of sight beneath his pants. "So I need to do laundry, so what?" he defended.
Rufus cut off the laughter as Tseng suckled his nipple hard while taking off his pants. Tseng raised his eyebrow again as he observed what Rufus was wearing. He grinned up at Rufus. "A thong?"
Rufus shrugged, unabashed.
"And a green silk one, too..." Tseng ran his fingers along Rufus's soft stomach, kissing it and testing its pliancy. He pushed Rufus flat on his back and kissed around the waist band of the thong, first along one hipbone and then the other. Rufus shifted impatiently and spread his knees in a silent plea.
Tseng briefly nuzzled his erection through the thin cloth and defined its hard outline with his lips, taking the tip between his lips and breathing on it, the hot moisture nearly driving Rufus wild. His tongue caressed the tip, dampening the cloth. He ignored Rufus' hands clenching in his hair, trying to encourage Tseng into taking things further, into taking things off.
Rufus ran out of patience and decided to take matters into his own hands, trying to push his underwear down himself. Tseng slapped his hands away, drawing the thong down himself and abruptly took the rigid penis into his mouth, suckling hard at the tip and then swallowing it all the way to the base. Rufus clawed at the desk, his legs shifting farther apart, hips jerking upwards uncontrollably, his head tossing as he neared his climax...
As soon as Tseng tasted the beginnings of Rufus's orgasm, he withdrew, licking his lips. Rufus whimpered pathetically, his face flushed and his eyes glazed. Tseng left him there for the moment and went around the desk and rummaged in the drawers for some sort of lubricant. All he came up with was a well-used bottle of hair gel. He shook his head wryly, surprised that Rufus hadn't prepared for such impromptu occasions. Considering that they'd done it in many odd locations, one being the shower room in the company gym when no one was around, it was rather shortsighted for the otherwise very prepared Rufus. But then, he figured, Rufus had been under a lot of stress lately... He knew why Rufus had called him in so suddenly, even though they knew they had to be careful to hide their relationship, especially from Rufus' father... Rufus never explained what made him so tense; surely it couldn't be a pile of paper- Rufus had been dealing with that most of his life.
A pair of warm arms slipped under his and wrapped around his chest. Rufus leaned his head against Tseng's shoulder, nuzzling his face into Tseng's long hair, purring. Rufus had always been rather hedonistic, he mused. Rufus' erection poked Tseng urgently in the back and broke him out of his thoughts.
The Turk shut the drawer and turned around. He sat down in the chair and beckoned the blonde over with a slight cock of his head and a sultry smile.
Rufus climbed up onto the chair, facing him, balancing himself on the armrests while holding onto the back of the chair. Tseng watched him carefully, ready to catch the small blonde if he fell. When Rufus was positioned, he squeezed out some gel and spread it between his hands. With a hiss of pleasure, he liberally coated his own erection. Rufus took the bottle from him and giving Tseng a bit more, he squeezed some out for himself. He stroked Tseng with it, spreading it further, watching his face as it contorted with pleasure with each rub and stroke. Abruptly Tseng grabbed Rufus's hand as he drew too close to orgasm. Smearing gel on his own fingers, he reached between Rufus's buttocks and lightly spreading them, teased the clench open with a lubricated finger and inserted it. He gently slipped in another, stretching him and moving them in and out, teasing him more than actually preparing him. Rufus's breaths became deeper as he struggled to control himself but lost it when Tseng's fingers encountered that one spot that made him feel like he was melting in an inferno yet doused with icy cold water at the same time, his body stiffening, his mouth opening into a strangled O.
He gave a strangled groan when Tseng's fingers abruptly left and he moved downward, seeking that filling once again. He encountered an object larger and much more solid, and he pushed gladly down onto it, impaling himself all the way down to the hilt, answering Tseng's moans with his own. As they began to move together, Tseng abruptly surged out of the chair, lifting Rufus with him. Rufus landed on the desk on his back with his legs drawn up and spread open wide by Tseng's arms. They thrust against each other in unison, sweat sheening against their skin moving faster and faster and crying louder and louder until Tseng let out a choked gasp and released into the smaller man. Rufus felt the sudden wetness deep inside of him, and thrust his hips sharply upwards, gritting his teeth, and spilled against Tseng's abdomen, sparks raining against the black of his closed eyelids, barely hearing himself as he breathed a name in a shuddery sigh.
They sagged, Rufus enjoying the feel of Tseng's weight holding him down. Tseng withdrew after a few moments. In a euphoric haze, Rufus ran his hands over Tseng's back and looked into his eyes and smiled. "Nope, I'm not bored anymore." Tseng laughed, feeling a solid weight sinking his heart. He got up, groped across the desk, encountered a tissue box and began cleaning up. His hand trembled minutely. He didn't say /my/ name, he said- He pushed it resolutely away. Now wasn't the time to think about it.
He looked around and gave a chuckle of dismay at what he saw.
Rufus got up. "What?" he asked. He took a look for himself and laughed also. The stacks of paper, in and out boxes, paperweights, pens, and nameplate were all scattered helter skelter across the floor. There were substances on the desk that would most definitely shock the maids that came in to clean periodically. The two men were definitely the worst off. Tseng's shirt was smeared liberally with gel and semen, while Rufus was streaked here and there with all sorts of things including ink where he'd apparently spilled a bottle across the desk. There were some paper clips stuck to his back.
On second consideration, Rufus groaned. There wasn't enough Kleenex for the whole job.
Mrs. Darrick hesitantly buzzed Rufus's intercom. The two men, now dressed and nearly decent, jumped. "Uh... Vice President Shinra, sir... Um- Ah... Ms. Scarlet Lewis is here to see you." Her nervousness was even more pronounced this time and her voice rose and broke at the end.
Rufus looked at the intercom. "Was that on the whole time? Shit!" He dumped the pile of paper he had picked up onto his desk. "Great. Now the whole company's going to know."
Tseng grinned, not at all bothered. "Not necessarily. Who's not afraid of the big bad Turks?" His eyes softened and he gave Rufus a gentle kiss. "Don't worry. I'll take care of it. I'll see you tonight, then."
At Rufus's nod, he stepped out and closed the door behind him. Why did he say Sephiroth's name? He is dead... Isn't he?
The End