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Past the point of no return
No backward glances
Our games of make-believe are at an end
The deal is straightforward enough. Veld’s location in exchange for the loyalty of Tseng and the other Turks, along with regular reports on the company. Tseng agrees with no hesitation — he owes Veld nothing less — and waits for Rufus to hold up his end of the bargain.
Instead of saying anything, though, Rufus just stares at Tseng. There’s a slight curl at the corner of his mouth. Tseng wonders what private joke he’s enjoying.
“Sir?” he prompts.
“I need more assurances before I give you Veld’s location,” Rufus says.
Tseng isn’t sure why those assurances weren’t brought up earlier. He finds it difficult to believe Rufus has only just come up with them. For whatever reason, he’s decided to make a show of it — though it’s not as if he’s ever demonstrated the need for a reason to be dramatic.
“Is my word not enough?” Tseng asks, a little dryly.
“I've seen enough of you these years to know you'd never risk the Turks,” Rufus says.
“But?”
“You saw how my last arrangement ended. This time, I want an agreement that’s more complete.”
“What did you have in mind, sir?”
A fuller half-smile crosses Rufus’ face before he turns serious. “You.”
Tseng tilts his head. “My loyalty is already —”
“I’m not talking about your loyalty. I'm talking about all of you.”
Rufus steps closer. He unbuttons the top button of Tseng’s jacket, then the other. It’s Tseng’s turn to stare, but there’s nothing amused in his expression. In hindsight, he should’ve suspected something when Rufus had invited him into the secret room for their negotiations, rather than just discussing it on screen.
He’s had one-night stands scattered over the years. Brief and infrequent, but enough to fulfill his needs without making things complicated. He has more than enough to deal with as a Turk, and any real relationship would always be surrounded by lies he’d have to tell for the security of the company and that partner.
Even that pales in comparison to doing anything with Rufus outside of what’s to be expected for his work. The inherent complication of their positions has been sufficient motivation over the years for Tseng to ignore the occasional whispers of what if in his mind. What happens to those whispers if they learn the answer?
More than that, there are dozens of ways to ask someone to prove their word. Yet Rufus suggests this. No matter his given reason, he can't have suggested it unless he truly wants it. Instead of smoothing Tseng’s concerns, the knowledge that the interest may be mutual only makes the situation feel more dangerous.
“Veld’s life hangs in the balance, Mr. Vice President,” Tseng reminds him. “Every minute matters.”
“The man isn’t going to be executed until noon tomorrow. Just how long do you expect me to have you, Tseng?”
Tseng hasn’t agreed to be had, but Rufus clearly sees no scenario in which Tseng refuses. Admittedly, Tseng can’t think of any firm reason to do so. This part of the exchange doesn’t have to be anything more than a simple transaction. It doesn’t have to become a habit, or mean they’re anything but the vice president of the Shinra Company and the leader of the Turks.
And yet…
“Very well, sir,” he forces himself to say. Whatever risk he may be running by agreeing is well worth the reward of saving Veld.
Rufus leans in. Just before his lips brush Tseng’s, he pauses. Waits. Tseng recognizes the test for what it is and presses his lips to Rufus’. Then Rufus wastes no time, cupping Tseng’s jaw and moving closer still. The light press of their bodies switches Tseng’s mind into an instinctual mode not unlike the one it enters during battle. He deepens the kiss, resting his hands on Rufus’ back to keep them together.
Once they break apart to breathe, Rufus says, “I’d consider that a strong start. Is it what you imagined?”
“I haven't imagined it,” Tseng says, which isn't true. But Rufus is already looking more than pleased with himself, and he sees no reason to encourage him further.
“Don’t lie.” There's a touch of amusement in Rufus’ voice. “That’s no way to show your newly promised loyalty, is it?”
“You said the deal isn’t done until you have ‘all of me’,” Tseng says, finding himself with a half-smile of his own.
“Fair enough,” Rufus laughs. He holds Tseng’s gaze, a challenge in his eyes. “Now prove to me that you’re my Turk.”
“Yes, sir.”
Tseng closes the distance between them once more as they make their way towards the bed. Rufus threads the fingers of one hand into Tseng’s hair, and the movement slowly shifts the hair tie lower. Tseng barely notices the warmth settling around his neck as his hair drops on account of the warmth he’s feeling everywhere else.
He moves his hands to the front of Rufus’ jacket. Returning the earlier gesture, Tseng unbuttons it — then goes a step further, sliding his hands up Rufus’ chest to the lapels, grasping them and starting to push the jacket off. The two work together to fully remove it and then Tseng’s, letting both fall to the floor past Tseng’s hair tie, forming a trail leading to the bed.
When they fall onto it at last, Tseng feels a touch of impatience unrelated to the clock ticking down Veld’s life. He pulls back to loosen and toss aside his tie. Rufus immediately goes for the top buttons of Tseng’s shirt, revealing one of many scars received in service of Shinra.
This is a very different kind of service, Tseng thinks, as he kisses Rufus again.
Past the point of no return
No going back now
Our passion play has now at last begun
Past all thought of right or wrong
One final question
How long should we two wait before we're one?
Tseng stares up at the ceiling of the secret room that’s now collecting secrets of its own. In asking after the room’s furnishings when the punishment began, the president couldn’t have imagined that Rufus would be using the bed to sleep with anyone, let alone one of the people tasked with overseeing him.
As Tseng’s breathing starts to even, he glances to his right. Rufus is also on his back, looking unusually at ease. Even if the two never so much as brush hands again, Tseng can’t pretend that this is the same as any other one-off.
Memories flash through his mind. A young Rufus sneaking out and Tseng, a new Turk, dragged into the adventure. Guarding Rufus during a business trip to Modeoheim and appreciating the calculation in his eyes and deliberation in his movements. These past years with Rufus living in Turks HQ, his blunt critiques and dry comments mixing with moments of like minds and valuable information.
And now this, the memory of Rufus’ bare skin under his hands once his gloves had come off, Rufus’ breath warm against him, the way they’d moved together…
Their history makes it impossible to pretend that Rufus is a stranger. Having completely bared themselves to each other makes it impossible to pretend that no matter Rufus’ position, he’s still just a man.
There’s no time to further dwell on it. They’ve already delayed enough with this final price, and Tseng can’t linger, no matter how pleasurable it has been. So instead of remaining in the bed and seeing where time takes them, he sits up and starts collecting his clothes.
He senses Rufus’ gaze on him as he dresses. Perhaps the younger man is tracing the same scars with his eyes that he had trailed his fingers over just minutes ago.
“Veld is being held in the dump, in a storage room,” Rufus says, finally breaking the silence. “There will be guards the closer you get to him.”
Tseng nods as he finishes buttoning his shirt. “Thank you, sir.”
“Don’t thank me. I didn’t do you a favor.”
All the same, the information is priceless. And Rufus knows that, or he wouldn’t have known to use it to make their deal to begin with. Tseng quickly knots his tie before smoothing and pulling up his hair. Rude and Reno will already be wondering what conditions are taking so long to hash out; there's no reason to further invite questions and distract from their mission. He makes his way to the door.
“And don’t get yourself killed, Tseng,” Rufus says after him. “Remember our deal.”
Tseng pauses and can’t stop himself from turning back. Rescuing Veld comes first. Then Tseng will have to face the fact that he belongs to Rufus just as much as he does to the company — if not more so.
“I won’t forget,” he promises, giving his voice the appropriate weight for the full meaning of his words.
Rufus’ smirk leaves no doubt that he understands.
Past the point of no return
The final threshold
The bridge is crossed, so stand and watch it burn
We've passed the point of no return