The Simple Pleasures

Author's Notes: This is an RP session turned story. I give half the credit to Kazzii, who, by all means, has opened my eyes at last to other RP pairings that my other roleplaying buddies find distasteful. This contains spoilers as to the upcoming film, Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children. Other than that, I've heard it's a nice piece of writing, and Kazzii loves it too, therefore, if you've seen the movie and don't mind this pairing, read on! If you haven't seen the movie and do not care that there are spoilers herein, and want only lust and sex, please go to chapter 3 and leave me alone. Or read the whole thing. Please R&R, C&R.



--Chapter 2--

The doorway into the bathroom was pretty narrow, so when cleaning time came, Rude had to gently lift the president out of his wheelchair in the corridor by the door and carry him inside. I have to say the bathroom was damn big - almost too luxurious for an Inn. But it was perfect for the name of this particular stop. Healing was the name of the game here. The bath tub was huge. I could probably swim a lap in it - well, not really - but often times I was scared as hell that Rufus would drown in it.



We went through this ritual pretty much every night, or every other night. If we missed it in the night, we would wash him up in the morning, which Rufus almost preferred because he had more strength to do anything by himself. But I prized my time with the president, the ability to have him at my mercy, so to speak, not that I enjoyed seeing him so helpless. I was lost without a job to do - I grew restless, angry, and wanted to drink if there was nothing to do. But Rufus was beginning to change all that. Rude put up with it alright... but lately he just didn't seem happy unless he was nursing a hard drink with me.



While Rude set our Boss down on the edge of the tub, I set about getting the shampoo. I hurried to the kitchen to grab them off the shelf where I had carelessly left them. I snatched up the bottles in both hands, spun them expertly as I stepped back into the bathroom. The water was at a reasonable level. The Turk companion had already removed his navy blazer, his shades, and had rolled up his white sleeves to get down to business. Rude tested the water, and finally set about unbuttoning Rufus's jacket.



Good old Rufus. I didn't understand why a man of power could put up with being treated like this - but maybe in a way he sort of enjoyed it. He was very anal that morning when he no longer had the strength to climb out of bed by himself. It was heart breaking for me because, well, I was the first one to hear his plaintive cries and angry sentiments and curses.

Hearing his clipped and unemotional voice suddenly burst out in frustration and tears and rage -- I was pretty shaken for a few days afterwards.



So we started giving him baths. Coddling him, see. To make him feel better. Hell, a goddamn free spa treatment. Rufus didn't let us know it, but after awhile he began to really enjoy his baths.



Rude and I helped get everything off save the boxers, which were sort of normal for Rufus - plain and black. I tried to avoid staring at him; Geostigma scars couldn't detract from his natural beauty but it was just plain creepy to see him so thin, so... so damn helpless.



"Help get him into the tub now," Rude said to me, then looked at Rufus kindly. "Ready, sir?"



"Ready as I'll ever be," he said, gritting his teeth.



I stood beside him, my leg pressed against the edge of the tub, and carefully bent to wrap my arm around his torso. Rude did a three-count, and we more or less lifted Rufus Shinra up and into the bathtub without a problem. I felt every spasm in his body as the heat closed around his flesh. One of his arms made its way across my back and held on, fingers digging into my shoulders. He expelled a coarse breath, lines of discomfort and then relief on his face when he slowly began to relax. The change in temperature made him quake like a flag in the wind.



Rude never looked once at me. But something in his face kept me from being extremely pissed at him. "Alright," he said seriously. "Reno, you wash his hair, and I'll wash the rest."



I arched a brow in challenge. Rude was telling me what to do? We weren't even on duty!



Then Rufus said, "Rude, would you step outside for a few moments, please?"



The dark-skinned man blinked. "What?" Disbelief. Then his expression melted from shock to impassive obedience. "Yes, sir." He stood, stepped lightly around the tub and shut the door behind him. I gave him one last nervous glance.



Rufus sat in the tub, his hands hanging lightly between his knees in the water. His hair was still dry, and he very lightly began to pull water from his surroundings with his hands in order to get himself properly wet. I tried to find the right words for the situation, but it wasn't working too well. "...What's going on, sir?"

This time, I did try to avert my eyes.



"I'll tell you... as soon as you begin to talk about what's up with you. Reno, please be truthful with me. On all matters. I told you I don't have that kind of time to withhold important things." Rufus took a deep breath. "Look at me."



After considerable pause, I did as I was told. My gaze flicked to fix on the side of Rufus's face. My chest tightened and without a doubt, I knew I wouldn't get out of this situation short of getting up and walking out - which, I knew, on my life I would never, ever do. In an effort to put off telling the truth, I shrugged off my jacket and let it fall to the floor. I rolled up my sleeves and grabbed the sponge. In the spirit of doing my job, I dipped it in the water and started to wash.



"Don't say that," I said cheerfully. "You've got all the time in the world."

"And how much time is that?" he answered quickly. "A year? Six months, at least?" he grabbed my arm and pushed it away. Then, slowly, he began to sink himself into the water, extending his legs and closing his eyes. "...You're only fooling yourself here."



I tensed, watching him sink. Well, he was right, wasn't he? I closed my hand around his arm to hold him steady just as he held onto me. I refused to believe what he said was true. Swallowing thickly, I let my hand holding the sponge, heavy with water, grow limp.



"What? You don't have anything to say?" Rufus feigned shock. It wasn't funny to me, but he just laughed, dipping his head back further. He let the water soak into his hair. He looked blissful, gorgeous - his hair floating around him- and for a second, I temporarily envied him and wished to be in his place.



"Reno." He opened his eyes again.



"Yes, sir?"



"Help me up." He reached toward me again. Weakness had penetrated his limbs again. He begged with his eyes.



I nodded wordlessly, that heartbreaking look filling me with a warmth that seemed to sink deeper than the heat of the bathroom. I turned toward the tub again and reached my arms around his torso once more - pausing to revel in the softness of his wet skin - as I pulled him slowly upward. I kept my eyes on his face, desperate to see more of those beautiful eyes.



Suddenly Rufus slipped a little and fell toward me, his arm clutching at my back. His lips collided with my neck and slid underneath my shirt collar. They slipped and gasped against my skin, which immediately felt like fire, the way they moved, but rather than say a single word, I just shivered. I did not care my shirt was now getting thoroughly soaked through but just held him close.

We were frozen like that for what felt like a damn long time.



Gradually I came back to my senses.



"A...Are you okay?" I choked out the words; I swallowed once they were out, my throat dry.



Rufus seemed amused at my kittenish ability to look so spooked. I wished I wasn't so damn reactionary. Regardless, Rufus hung onto me, nodding slowly. "Let's ... finish up here before the water gets cold. And when I'm ready for bed... you'll tell me then, won't you?" His eyes raised again and he begged with them. Whatever it was, he seemed to make me feel good and guilty.



"Right!" I grabbed the sponge and the soap. For a second I wondered what Rude was thinking out there, all alone and bored out of his mind. "Should I do your back, or your hair first?" I flashed a grin, and allowed myself to slip back into my usual manner. "Or should I start at the bottom and work my way up?"



Rufus, laughing softly, flashed a smile of his own. "Why don't you use your best judgment? After all, you're not loaded on booze right now so it can't be that bad. My red-headed alky." And then Rufus raised his arms a little, ready for a good soap down.



After awhile, I was worried about Rude. So I suggested we let him back in and help us out, to get the work done faster before the water turned frigid. Suddenly I realized something. "I hope he hasn't started on the beer. I think he did. That bastard."



"I'm pretty certain he hasn't," the Boss said. "But if you're that worried, you can call him back in if you want."



I didn't quite believe him then, but then, I didn't care so long as I had at least one whole pack to myself. "Oi, Rude, get back in here! I ain't doin' this all by myself, ya lazy fuck!" He entered again after a moment's pause as if he were standing just outside the door. "I'm counting those beers myself, just you wait."



"Sure, yeah." Rude stepped on over, got his hands good and soapy, and started washing away at Rufus's hair. He still didn't look at me. Although I wasn't sure just what the hell was going through his mind, I was pretty sure he was thinking long and hard about ...something.



Then to Rufus, my face melted into that characteristic smile. "Saa, we'll get you all cleaned up in no time!"



At one point during the bath, Rufus suddenly went white in the face and turned to who else but me. His hand clutched at my arm and latched on with strength I hadn't imagined him to possess in his condition. He made a sound, and shut his eyes. Rude lurched to his feet, his hands hovering over the president as if to protect him from whatever was happening to him.



I dropped the sponge with a splash to twist my hands to hold onto Rufus. I was too surprised to care that the tub was digging into my ribs as I leaned close. "Are you okay?"



My stomach clenched and twisted unpleasantly. The sight of black ooze leaking freely from the Geostigma scars, staining the water an inky black, was horrifying.



"...hurts..."



I looked up and spoke heavily, forcing Rude to look at me with my eyes. "Let's hurry and get him out of here." Without thinking, I smoothed back Rufus's damp blonde locks soothingly. "I'm sorry."



Rude nodded slowly as he helped bring Rufus out of the tub. The latter was shaking slightly, his breathing disturbingly shallow as he leaned his sopping head on my shoulder in exhaustion. Rude unplugged the tub to let the inky sickness drain away with the water, swirling around and around in a dizzying spiral of black and semi-transparent liquid. I barely was aware of Rude as he stepped around us to get towels and began to dry Rufus. Black Geostigma came off as well as water onto the biege towels. I couldn't help but wince every time Rude ever-so-gently pressed the towels against him.



Rude tossed them towels into the hamper, and then he gently took hold of Rufus as if ready to lift him. "Let's get him to bed now, Reno."



"Yeah." My mind was clear in the face of Rufus's pain. All naughty thoughts of what bedtime usually instigated in my dirty mind were abolished, and all I could think about was keeping him, my Rufus, safe. I rubbed the spot on my stomach where the tub had hurt me. "I'll go get the pajamas, okay?"



I stood up, my legs creaking from kneeling so long. Then I stepped out of the room and fetched some warm, comfortable white pajamas from the top drawer in the bedroom. When I returned, the way Rufus looked in Rude's arms was painfully beautiful to me, and I didn't quite understand why. It made me crease my brow slightly. Then I crouched down and held him upright. "Come on. Let's get you sorted, then."



Rude gently slipped the sopping wet boxers off of the blonde man. I quickly diverted my attention, distracted by the white tiles, humming tunelessly in my throat. And then Rufus had his pajama bottoms on. Rude lifted him effortlessly and carried him out into the corridor, past the wheelchair, into the bedroom. I followed; I marveled at Rude's strength as he gently laid Rufus on his soft sheets, how he tenderly treated him. If a Turk was known for his dedication, Rude was the perfect example.



Rude then quietly left the room. I stepped inside, and the silence was more than oppressive; it was downright unnatural. I knew what was about to transpire. I was not looking forward to it. I gripped the white pajama shirt in my hands tightly.