[ it's less, for tseng, that he wants rufus to taste himself as it is that he wants to kiss rufus and knows that an inevitable consequence of that will be that rufus tastes himself. so the nod, when it comes, is a welcome sign, and tseng immediately leans in to press their mouths together and coax rufus' lips to part.
the kiss is deep from the get-go, a needy, desperate thing. tseng licks into rufus' mouth like he wants to taste every inch of it, like every moan rufus has ever bitten back might be there under his tongue, sweet as candy. he doesn't need rufus to beg, would never think to make him—if rufus begs it will always be of his own accord, because he feels safe in asking tseng for what he needs. if anything, really, it feels like tseng who should be begging, as wrapped around rufus' little finger as he feels right now.
when they pull apart, the wet of tseng's mouth betrays his otherwise collected appearance, as does the flush of color high in his cheekbones. ]
Anything you want, baby. Anything.
[ it's a promise tseng fully intends to keep, too. no empty words, no false vows just to tell rufus what he wants to hear. tseng is, he realizes, absolutely and irrevocably fucked—but he can't really find it in himself to care.
the sound of the rotors outside changes slightly as they begin to descend toward shinra tower, and tseng presses another brief, firm kiss to rufus' mouth. ]
Let me clean you up. [ he wants to call rufus sir, to get himself back into the mindspace where tseng is bodyguard and rufus is vice president, but with rufus looking so languid and warm in his lap like this, he can't quite manage it. tseng tugs rufus' pants up again and re-fastens the button, does up the zip, straightens out a few of the wrinkles caused by their grinding. ] I'll take you straight to your bedroom. Rude will stay with the helicopter. This late, there shouldn't be more than the skeleton crew of security, but we'll need to be mindful until we're behind closed doors.
[ his tone makes it obvious: tseng is saying this as much for his own benefit as for rufus'. ]
Is that clear? [ a pause, and then the faintest smile, and tseng lifts his hands again so he can rub his scent against rufus' throat. ] Sir.
no subject
the kiss is deep from the get-go, a needy, desperate thing. tseng licks into rufus' mouth like he wants to taste every inch of it, like every moan rufus has ever bitten back might be there under his tongue, sweet as candy. he doesn't need rufus to beg, would never think to make him—if rufus begs it will always be of his own accord, because he feels safe in asking tseng for what he needs. if anything, really, it feels like tseng who should be begging, as wrapped around rufus' little finger as he feels right now.
when they pull apart, the wet of tseng's mouth betrays his otherwise collected appearance, as does the flush of color high in his cheekbones. ]
Anything you want, baby. Anything.
[ it's a promise tseng fully intends to keep, too. no empty words, no false vows just to tell rufus what he wants to hear. tseng is, he realizes, absolutely and irrevocably fucked—but he can't really find it in himself to care.
the sound of the rotors outside changes slightly as they begin to descend toward shinra tower, and tseng presses another brief, firm kiss to rufus' mouth. ]
Let me clean you up. [ he wants to call rufus sir, to get himself back into the mindspace where tseng is bodyguard and rufus is vice president, but with rufus looking so languid and warm in his lap like this, he can't quite manage it. tseng tugs rufus' pants up again and re-fastens the button, does up the zip, straightens out a few of the wrinkles caused by their grinding. ] I'll take you straight to your bedroom. Rude will stay with the helicopter. This late, there shouldn't be more than the skeleton crew of security, but we'll need to be mindful until we're behind closed doors.
[ his tone makes it obvious: tseng is saying this as much for his own benefit as for rufus'. ]
Is that clear? [ a pause, and then the faintest smile, and tseng lifts his hands again so he can rub his scent against rufus' throat. ] Sir.