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The first time Rufus noticed it, he thought he was imagining things.
Since Elena's induction into the Turks, it wasn't often Tseng needed to work in the field. When he did, however, it was for missions that were either particularly dangerous or particularly delicate. The one time he came into Rufus's office with a crudely bandaged head wound and blood staining his suit, he had given his report as though there wasn't anything unusual at all about his appearance. Once he was done, he stood there with his back straight and his expression blank while Rufus stared at him from behind his desk and wondered if he would taste blood on those lips were they to kiss.
After letting the silence stretch on longer than necessary, simply to see how Tseng took it, Rufus had given his judgement: "A job well done, as expected."
The flicker of emotion on Tseng's face at those words was fleeting. It wasn't quite relief, but it wasn't pride, either.
Rufus made note of it.
The next few times Tseng reported to him, Rufus experimented with his responses. Watching Tseng's face and posture for even the slightest of changes without appearing to do so was more difficult than he thought it would be. Tseng was inscrutable at best and frustratingly flat at worst, but Rufus was determined, and not even a Turk could stop him once he had his mind set on a goal.
A quick compliment, phrased so as to seem offhand, earned him the subtlest of shifts in that otherwise impassive expression. Pairing it with criticism made Tseng stiffen and clench his jaw ever so slightly. Mentions of improvement compared to his past performance netted him the most significant reaction yet: a hint of a smile, barely noticeable if Rufus weren't looking for it.
Of course, it only took a handful of experiments for Tseng to pick up on Rufus's strategy.
"Permission to speak freely, sir," Tseng said, late one night on the seventieth floor, after having given his most recent report.
Sitting behind his desk with his cheek resting on his hand, Rufus simply gestured his assent.
Tseng remained straight-backed and stiff as he spoke. "Is there an issue with my recent performance?"
Rufus had expected this line of questioning, but he didn't let it show. "Why do you ask?"
"The feedback you have been giving me is..." Tseng hesitated, and if Rufus weren't so intent on getting what he wanted, he would have sat up in his seat. Then Tseng continued, his expression carefully blank. "It's different. Sir."
"Different, how?" Rufus asked, as if he genuinely had no idea what Tseng was talking about.
It seemed to work.
Tseng's brow furrowed. "You seem far more pleased with me than usual lately."
Rufus couldn't help himself; he laughed. Even if he was showing his hand too early, it was worth it to see Tseng startled. "Is that really a problem?"
Recovering swiftly, Tseng averted his gaze. "No. It's just..."
His sentence hung between them unfinished, in an uncharacteristic display of uncertainty.
Still watching him closely, Rufus decided to take a chance. "Do you have any concerns about my feedback?"
"No," Tseng said, a little too quickly. He paused before he next spoke. "I appreciate it. Sir."
Rufus smiled. "Then I'll pretend this conversation never happened."
At these words, Tseng's shoulders visibly relaxed. He raised his hand to his chest and bowed. "Thank you, Mister President."
Being addressed by his new title gave Rufus more of a thrill than he cared to admit. Coming from anyone else, it bordered on ingratiating more often than not, but coming from Tseng, the sheer deference in the way he spoke and held himself was undeniable.
Intoxicating.
Rufus nodded, signalling the end to their conversation, and watched as Tseng turned and left. As soon as he was alone once more, Rufus leaned back in his chair and let out a sigh. The game wasn't over yet, but Tseng was too perceptive to be fooled for long. If things were to go as planned, a change in tactics would be necessary.
Things were getting interesting.
The scenario that presented itself couldn't have been better, and Rufus didn't even need to lift a finger to make it happen.
Days after their conversation, he had been sitting in his office when Tseng swept in and informed him that he was to be moved to a safe location for security reasons. The evacuation of the entire Shinra Building would be announced shortly, and a thorough investigation of the premises would be conducted to determine whether the threat was credible. Having participated in his share of drills in the past, Rufus already knew what to expect.
The safe house Tseng took him to was a property on the far side of the plate, one it seemed the Turks used semi-regularly judging by how well-kept it was. There was even a pair of sunglasses that were identical to the ones Rude wore sitting on the coffee table in front of the sofa.
"Make yourself comfortable, sir," Tseng said, once he had bolted the door. "If there's anything you need, please don't hesitate to ask."
Rufus made no move to sit, but he did take his coat off and toss it over the sofa. He looked around, noting the blackout curtains covering the window and the boxes piled in the corner with open curiosity.
"We use this location to reconvene when a mission doesn't go as planned," Tseng explained, still standing by the door.
Rufus turned to face him. "Does that happen often?"
"No."
There was no way to tell whether Tseng was lying or not, but something about his answer made Rufus wonder just how often it did happen, and whether the time Tseng had shown up bloodied and bruised had been one of them.
"There's a bedroom down the hall if you would like to rest."
Though Tseng appeared at ease, there was a subtle shift in his expression, as if Rufus's question had roused some uncomfortable emotion in him.
Bad memories, perhaps.
Rufus didn't pry, but he did know an opportunity when he saw one. "And what about you?"
"Sir?"
"Shouldn't you rest, too?" Rufus asked, delighting in the confusion that briefly flitted across Tseng's face.
Tseng's gaze dropped. "My subordinates will be giving me regular status updates over the next few hours. I need to be available if anything changes."
"So, you have time to kill, then," Rufus said, watching the gears turning in Tseng's head as his words sank in. He turned and walked towards the corridor, without checking to see if Tseng was going to follow. "I could use the company."
It only took a handful of seconds before Rufus heard Tseng's footsteps behind him. The victory, although small, was still satisfying.
The bedroom was as cramped as Rufus had imagined it would be, even with little more than a simple bed in the corner, a nightstand with a lamp resting on it, and a tall cupboard by the window, padlocked shut.
When Tseng finally appeared, he looked as though he couldn't decide whether to stand in the doorway or take up what limited space was available by entering.
Rufus made the decision for him. "Close the door."
Despite his earlier uncertainty, Tseng showed no hesitation. Once the door was closed, the room suddenly felt even smaller than it had before.
Tseng must have picked up on this, going by the way he now looked anywhere but at Rufus.
Rufus gestured to the bed. "Make yourself comfortable."
It was an intentional echo of Tseng's earlier words, now laden with suggestion.
"I'm on duty, sir," Tseng said, but he addressed the worn-out carpet at Rufus's feet rather than Rufus himself.
"Consider this your break," Rufus said, watching that calm expression for any trace of change.
Tseng approached the bed as though a particularly dangerous fiend lay in wait underneath it. After a long moment of hesitation, he sat.
Rufus didn't let his glee show. Mirroring Tseng's calm expression, he delivered the words he had so carefully chosen during the helicopter ride: "You did well today, Tseng."
Adding his name to the end produced the same reaction it had the last time Rufus praised him like this.
Tseng looked off to the side, his eyes briefly closing.
Rufus stepped closer, noting the way Tseng dipped his head in response to the increased proximity. "I'm lucky to have you."
It was the most personal form of praise Rufus had offered, rendered more effective by its sincerity.
Tseng finally looked up at him, his eyes wide with disbelief.
Rufus reached out and placed his hand on Tseng's head. "I couldn't ask for a more capable subordinate."
At Rufus's touch, Tseng seemed to be in shock. He didn't move when Rufus stroked his hair, nor when Rufus cupped his cheek with his hand, leaned down and kissed him.
It was a soft, slow kiss, and as with most things, Rufus took the lead. The moment Tseng's tongue hesitantly brushed against his made him feel warm in a way he hadn't in years. When he finally pulled away, he wasn't surprised to see that Tseng's face was perfectly expressionless.
"Lie back," Rufus said, pressing his hand to Tseng's chest and pushing gently.
Tseng allowed it, albeit reluctantly. Lying on the bed with his arms resting by his sides and his hair spread out under him, he watched Rufus with something akin to wariness. "What do you intend to do?"
Rufus spread Tseng's legs apart and sank down to his knees between them. "What do you think?"
Stunned silence was his answer, so Rufus undid the buttons on Tseng's jacket and parted the material. He had just finished unbuckling Tseng's belt when a gloved hand wrapped around his wrist, the grip tight.
"You don't need to do this."
Rufus placed his free hand over Tseng's. "But what if I want to?"
There wasn't a single crack in that blank expression. Tseng let go of Rufus's hand and shifted his gaze to the ceiling. He didn't speak.
Rufus unzipped Tseng's pants and untucked his shirt so he could stroke him through his underwear. He went slowly at first, experimenting with different kinds of touch and levels of pressure until he could determine what worked best. Though Tseng tried to stay still and quiet, it wasn't long before Rufus had him panting and squirming on the bed.
"Tell me what you want," Rufus said, cupping Tseng's erection with his palm and watching as Tseng's hips lifted in response.
Tseng had his eyes hidden under the crook of his elbow as he spoke. "I can't, sir."
Rufus rubbed his finger over the wet patch at the front of Tseng's underwear. "Why not?"
This time, Tseng didn't answer, so Rufus tugged the waistband down and drew the tips of his fingers along the hard length of his exposed erection.
Tseng inhaled sharply. "Sir, please..."
"You're doing so well," Rufus said, wrapping his hand around Tseng's cock and giving it a slow stroke. His fingers were already wet with pre-come. "All you have to do is tell me what you want."
Tseng's fingers dug into the blanket. His voice was hoarse. "Your mouth. Sir. Please."
Smiling, Rufus placed one hand on Tseng's clothed thigh and leaned forward. It was gratifying, to make Tseng come apart with little more than his mouth. Every gasp and low moan felt like a hard-earned reward. At one point, Rufus grabbed Tseng's hand and placed it on his head – and was pleased when he felt gloved fingers clench in his hair.
There was no need to hold Tseng down; he didn't attempt to thrust into Rufus's mouth, although whether he showed such self-restraint out of respect or simply because he hadn't been ordered to move was unclear. Nevertheless, when Tseng came at last, Rufus gripped him tightly by the hips and swallowed. Having him pinned like this, all of Tseng's skill and strength subdued under his hands, gave Rufus the kind of rush he only ever experienced during battle and sex. Two sides to the same coin.
Tseng went lax on the bed, his chest rising and falling as his breath came in quick pants. His hand finally dropped from Rufus's head. "Sir..."
Rufus allowed Tseng's softening cock to slip from his mouth. He ran his hands down Tseng's thighs though his pants, fingers spread wide so his thumbs dipped between them, and stopped at his knees. "Look at me."
It took a few seconds for Tseng to comply. With his head lifted, he looked down the length of his own body towards Rufus, his features relaxed and his eyes still clouded with pleasure.
That expression suited him so much more than his usual seriousness, Rufus decided. He glanced back down at Tseng's cock and saw the last drops of come glistening at the tip. With a sly grin, he leaned down and gently licked it clean. Though Tseng didn't make a sound, Rufus felt the way his knees jerked under his hands. When he looked up, Tseng was still watching him, only now his cheeks were red.
Not wanting the blank mask to return too soon, Rufus didn't comment. "It wasn't easy for you, was it?"
Tseng's answer came after a moment of hesitation. "No, it wasn't."
Rufus rose to his feet. The carpet was so threadbare that his knees were sore. "You did well."
Tseng sat upright and began to fix his clothing. His relaxed, open expression from before had already faded, replaced instead with his usual indifference. "There is no need for that, sir."
"For what?"
"Your... feedback," Tseng said, clearly reluctant to call it what it was.
Rufus reached out and smoothed down Tseng's hair. "You of all people should know I don't give praise lightly."
Tseng stiffened, but he didn't move away from Rufus's hand. "I'm not used to it."
"But you like it, don't you?"
Tseng looked away. Even though his suit was rumpled, there was a quiet grace to the way he sat, with his dark hair hanging over one shoulder and his head slightly bowed. "Yes."
Rufus wanted to kiss him again. No, he wanted to do so much more than just kiss him. They had a bed and time to spare.
Tseng more than deserved it, after all.