Efficiency

Title: Efficiency
Fandom: Final Fantasy VII
Author: [info]vegakapera
Rating: NC-17
For: Springkink

Prompt: March 27th. Tseng/Rufus. Solo M - It was scarcely appropriate to think of his charge in this way
Characters: Tseng, Rufus (mentioned Rude and unimportant OC)
Pairings: Tseng/Rufus, implied Reno/Tseng
Warnings: Masturbation, M/M sex, minor, prostitution, voyeurism

Author's Note: Haven't really written these characters before. Concrit is thus very much appreciated.


Tseng massaged his temples and resisted the urge to cover his ears. He laid back onto the bed, hoping that its softness would make him surrender to the fatigue that, despite everything, had invaded his body and yet it seemed impossible when his mind was so very much awake.

He told himself that there were no immediate worries, but his instincts did not listen to his logic and he found himself listening for those sounds. There was nothing to worry about, as far as a Turk could be free from worry of course. Rude was watching over that brat that had now become Vice President Shinra, and Rude was one of the best Turks Tseng had ever encountered.
That was not the thing that worried him, nor was it Rufus himself that was the actual problem.
The problem was the unknown male that was currently in bed with Rufus.
That man worried him.

Tseng’s objections had been ignored and the vice president had gone through with that foolish plan despite what his body guard had told him. Rufus’ idea was simply a radical method of annoying the President. Let the streets whisper that Shinra junior is a slut.
An efficient way of annoying the President, of course, but also a dangerous one.

He frowned at the memory of the seventeen year old boy telling him that every prostitute in Junon would get to top the heir to the Shinra empire. Tseng had wanted to yell at the boy to inform him about everything that could go wrong with this plan and just how badly it could do so. He hadn’t done that, instead he’d nodded and uttered a calm ‘as you wish, sir’ once his objections had been ignored.
He wondered when he’d lost his guts.
He’d let the man in, padded him down in a way that would have made most body guards blush, intimidated him and informed him of the rules.
It had not been easy to stand there and do nothing when he was ready to do anything. He’d felt like a rookie again.
After having spent so many years as a Turk, few things made Tseng feel uncomfortable but it turned out that this was one of the things his training and experience could not shield him against.
Watching his young boss play the part of the virgin in this obscure play that was staged for one of its actors… It had been strange, to say the least and he’d felt quite awkward just standing there doing nothing but trying not to look at anything inappropriate.

He could hear Rufus moan in the other room and he could easily imagine the blonde teenager’s face when he made those glorious sounds that sent shivers down Tseng’s spine. He did, after all, know just what his boss looked like when he moaned in pleasure, as not ten minutes had passed since he’d seen Rufus do just that.
A pale body comfortably resting on the thick mattress, the color of his charge’s skin only slightly darker than the sheets. Pearls of sweat forming in patterns across Rufus’ chest and how they slowly journeyed towards the linen when the boy took a deep, shaking breath.
Tseng had tried not to look but it had become impossible when Rufus had begun to moan so sweetly. It did not help when Rufus looked at Tseng and smirked.
He’d forced himself not to bolt for the door when Rude had appeared to replace him, instead he’d calmly greeted the bald man and informed him of the situation. Then he’d left, hoping that his dignity was still intact.

The sounds coming from the other room seemed to somehow turn his own hotel room into a sauna and he wished that he could have opened a window, but Tseng had been around long enough to have learned just how dangerous that act could be.
He did instead settle for the slightly less appealing option and removed his uniform jacket. He walked across the room while he unzipped it, desperately trying to occupy himself and thus banish those persistent thoughts from his mind and the slowly throbbing heat between his legs. It was scarcely appropriate to think of his charge in this way.

It turned out to be a rather stupid idea as the snow white shirt that became exposed when the jacket was removed instantly pulled his thoughts towards the young Vice President. It did not only remind him of the color of Rufus’ clothing but it also made him think of how it would feel to have someone else brush the jacket off his shoulders.

He could not help but wonder how different Rufus’ hands would feel compared to his own while he rolled up his sleeves, regretting it when the air felt warm upon his skin and much more like a gentle caress than cold relief. Relief.

Tseng checked his watch, considering to step into the shower to find the cold he needed and thus escape the heat he craved, but he knew himself far too well. It would take him too long to calm down and the problem would arise once more when he next encountered Rufus. He did not doubt that not only his fellow Turk, but also his boss would begin to wonder if he showered every second hour of the night.
He’d been careless, he should not have been in this position at all and knowing full well that he could have avoided it by finding a stranger in a bar twice a month or develop a casual relationship of convenience. There was always the option of investigating if that redheaded Turk was serious with all those innuendos and flirtations, Tseng shook his head and raised his brow at that last thought. It really had been too long if he even thought of sleeping with one of his subordinates.

And so Tseng of the Turks stopped trying to ignore those sounds and the shivers they sent down his spine. He had not forgotten the scent of sweat and arousal that now melded with his own, if he ignored the unknown man’s scent he could almost imagine that it was his own scent that would linger on Rufus’ skin afterwards. It was such an appealing thought.

Tseng leaned back against the wall and slowly moved his hand across his white clad chest, tracing the outlines of tense muscles and lingering on hardening nipples before he followed the trail of buttons down to his belt. He began to open it but reconsidered and buckled it again before he brought his hand further down still. Tseng did not remember the last time a voyeuristic experience had made him harden this quickly and he was only slightly surprised to feel his length twitch in expectation from the heat that radiated from his palm before he even touched the fabric of his trousers.


It was not long after he had unzipped his trousers that his brain began to fail censoring the images that came to him and he knew he wouldn’t last long like this, not with those exquisite sounds that made his blood boil. It did not take long for him to imagine that Rufus’ hands that stroked him and he could almost feel how a hand less callused than his own entwined its fingers with his and move in tandem with his own movements.

His breaths had become shallow and his face begun to relax, lines that never should have been there disappeared and the Wutain Turk’s real age would have been revealed to anyone that laid eyes on him. The weariness in his muscles seemed to vanish when the pressure and friction increased. A small voice in the back of his head whispered how he was a fool for giving in, for something like this to tear down his defenses. How could a Turk ever allow himself to be this weak?

He tightened his grip further, clearing all such thoughts from his head. Turks did not dwell on such things. Efficiency was their trademark, for Gaia’s sake.

The images came faster now, timed with his movements to the point of perfection. He bit back a moan that threatened to escape from his lips, pleased that he wouldn’t last much longer at all. Tseng blinked to prevent the sweat from burning his eyes and soon closed them again, silently praying that he would manage to keep quiet.

Tseng was pushed over the edge when the moans turned into desperate cries of ecstasy and he lost the battle against gravity, sinking to the floor while the white pleasure burned through his body.
He rested his head against the wall and tried to regain his breath. He casually glanced at his watch and hummed contently.

Efficiency really was the key.