Categories > Games > Final Fantasy 7

The Best Truths are False

by cupcakegirl

After Advent Children, Rufus struggles to show Tseng that he is not as weak as he appears to be.

Category: Final Fantasy 7 - Rating: NC-17 - Genres: Angst, Erotica - Characters: Rufus Shinra, Tseng - Warnings: [!!] [X] - Published: 2006-07-11 - Updated: 2006-07-12 - 1325 words

?Blocked
He waits patiently outside, listening to the laboured breathing, and the scrape of metal against the cabinets as Rufus's wheelchair fights with the President of ShinRa. A muffled curse creeps out from around the door like the steam that slowly escapes and Tseng tenses, one hand on the doorknob. The rushing water hides most of the noises, but years of guarding the man has him opening the door before Rufus can protest and he's in, helping the weak body of the man who'd defied Kadaj so boldly only a week before.

"I am fine, I'm fine! Tseng!" Rufus glares up at him, caught and naked and Tseng averts his eyes politely, boring a hole into the white tile, his arms wrapped around Rufus's waist as he helps him into the shower. Rufus grabs onto the rail that was installed a few months ago and clings to it, shaky like he's sick, and Tseng's eyes run down him and realize that the President is sick. "Tseng," the way Rufus says his name is dangerous and threatening and Tseng jerks his eyes up to the President's, watching Rufus's pupils dilate and pinpoint harshly and he can tell the man is close to passing out.

"Sir, maybe you should... have a bath instead?" the suggestion is feeble and Tseng knows it, and most definitely knows it when Rufus wraps his fingers in Tseng's long black hair and yanks the Turk, fully clothed, towards the shower.

"I said I was /fine/," Rufus hisses softly into Tseng's temple, and the Turk braces his hands against the wall to keep from falling and grabbing onto the President and dragging them both down. Tseng looks at him with wary dark eyes and the President snorts, rolling his eyes up towards the tiled ceiling.

"You are not fine, sir," Tseng says respectfully as he can and catches Rufus instinctively as the man slips, knees banging into the tub as his legs give out. The President is glaring, his eyes boring holes into Tseng's neck as the Turk cradles his President gently, helping him stand again, not noticing as his uniform slowly soaks under the warm spray of the shower. Without a word he grabs the soap and lathers up his hand, the other looping against Rufus's back as he gently holds him, hand sliding across the skin of the President's chest.

Rufus is quiet for once, letting him work, the fight gone out of him as he sags against the strength of his Turk, head resting on Tseng's shoulder weakly. Tseng is murmuring under his breath, some strange words of encouragement that Rufus needs to hear even if he doesn't want to admit it, Tseng's fingers warmer than the water against him. The soap slips and drops, skidding down the bathtub and Tseng sighs, letting Rufus cling to the rail, shrugging out of his jacket, fingers deftly unbuttoning his shirt at the cuffs and then down his chest.

"I am fine," Rufus insists, almost randomly and Tseng shoots him as much as a yeah, right look as he can possibly get away with before bending to grab the soap, passing it to Rufus. He holds him as he steps in, water immediately soaking his pants and making them cling uncomfortably as he holds Rufus so the man can wash himself, weakly, but still wash himself. Tseng tries to stay still, despite Rufus's smouldering glare that burns into him as the President's fingers skid over his soapy skin.

"You are not fine," Tseng says minutes later, starting the argument all over when Rufus would have been perfectly happy to let it die, and the President glares even harder, dropping the soap and falling deliberately to his knees, fingers fast at Tseng's zipper. The Turk groans in surprise, fingers wrapping hard around one of the rails as Rufus draws him, warm and damp, into his mouth, tongue fastfast/faster/ along his hard length. It's then, leaning back against the cold tiles, water spraying down on him, that he realizes that the president is most definitely on the worse side of not fine if he's willing to do this. Rufus tongue swirls over the head of his cock and the thoughts of not fine and quite sick and he should be in bed drift merrily from his mind as his fingers tangle in the man's wet, blond hair.

"Rufus-" the rest of his well-intentioned sentence is cut off as he moans, head thudding back against the tiles and he squirms, pinned like a beetle to a card, feeling tongue and teeth so fast along his sensitive skin.

"Shut up," the President hisses, all decorum fled from his voice, which is tired and full of pain and oddly enough, amusement as he goes down on Tseng, making the Turk close to coming and close to begging. Still, Tseng holds himself back, shivering despite the warm, steamy air around them, pants sticking to his knees uncomfortably as Rufus continues to blow him.

He has to bite back a shout of protest when Rufus pulls away, the President's fingers teasing idly over the inside of his thighs. Rufus smirks up at him and Tseng pulls him to stand, kissing him hard and holding him upright with simply his two hands on Rufus's shoulders. They drink each other in and Tseng turns him, gently, gently, Rufus's hands wrapping tightly around the railing as Tseng kisses down his back, warm mouth indistinguishable from the water pouring over them both. They're so used to this, but normally it's horizontal and not quite so vertical and Tseng has to maneuver carefully so Rufus has the right amount of support for his weak legs as Tseng slides into him.

Rufus's head tilts back and rests against Tseng's shoulder, mouth open and panting, sucking in the wet air with big gasping heaves. Tseng shudders into him, one arm wrapping around the blond's waist as he pushes in deeper, grinding into him until his flat stomach presses against the hollow of Rufus's back. Biting down the slope of Rufus's neck, Tseng pulls hips hips away, water pelting down on the exposed skin, making Rufus moan helplessly, weakly.

It's the only place he'll be weak for Tseng, and Tseng knows it, holding him close as he fucks him gently, fucks him with care despite the lack of care the President shows for his own body. Rufus urges him on, urges him to be rough, twisting his body as best he can back against Tseng and smiles as the hissing noises Tseng makes.

"Don't," warns Tseng, almost gently and Rufus gasps when the Turk thrusts into him hard, the skin dragging, the water not doing much to lubricate, but that gasp turns into a loan moan when Tseng's hand wraps around Rufus's hard cock and strokes along it, sliding into him with each fisting thrust. Rufus likes to blame his weakness and geostigma for the short time it takes Tseng to get him to come. Rufus cries out so loudly it echoes in the sparse bathroom as the powerful man arches and bucks back against Tseng hard, hearing the Turk's harsh breathing in his ear as he can't, or won't, hold back, fingers locked around Rufus's hip as Tseng pounds into him roughly, almost too roughly.

Eyes closed they rest against the cold tile, warm water still sluicing down their bodies, Tseng's arms keeping Rufus upright, as well as the uncomfortable jam of a hipbone into Rufus's lower back.

"Idiot. Reckless idiot," Tseng breathes softly into Rufus' neck and the President just chuckles in answer, sliding one hand up along the side of Tseng's face, tilting his head to look at him.

"Reckless idiot to your smug bastard," Rufus says with a low chuckle and Tseng hides a smile as he kisses Rufus's ear, pulling out but not pulling away as he reaches over and turns off the shower and prepares mentally for the long slow road to bed.
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