[You could have anything you want, Tseng had told him, his secret that went without saying. What's more difficult to parse is whether he'd meant it as a statement of fact or as a reassurance against doubt; it seems unlike Tseng to even entertain the notion that Rufus might have doubts, much less imply an awareness of them, and yet — sometimes, it almost seems as though Tseng is the one harboring doubts of a variety Rufus can't always pin down.
Maybe doubts is the wrong word. Reservations might work better. Tseng, after all, has always seemed more uncomfortable with the state of their respective ranks than even Rufus has himself, has always been deferential and perfect except in those times when Rufus has managed to sink claws in and tear holes in his collected exterior.
Maybe he's waiting for Rufus to say the word.
The problem is, Rufus isn't altogether certain of what might come of it if he does.]
And if you didn't like what I wanted, would you tell me?
[ tseng reads the message twice to be sure he's understood it, and even then he finds himself at a loss. it seems almost like a trick question, one where tseng isn't sure what the right answer is. it's funny, because it isn't as though tseng is unfamiliar with the concept of informed consent, his sexual proclivities being what they are—it's just strangely difficult for him to reconcile to his and rufus' relationship. ]
I would tell you if you wanted to know.
[ is that what rufus wants? for tseng to be honest when his wants and desires conflict with rufus' requests? ]
[ perhaps strangely, it is this text that sows the seeds of tseng's eventual dawning realization that he and rufus are not understanding each other: why would tseng hate the idea of spending time with rufus? didn't tseng tell rufus, not that long ago, that spending time with him was one of tseng's small joys? ]
[It's still reasonably early in the day, yet. Plenty of time for any number of things to happen. Plenty of Tseng's day to monopolize, and he should probably feel some measure of...well, something about that, and he doesn't.]
Both.
[And slowly, slowly, he finds himself at the awkward, tentative crux of it.]
[ like a date, tseng's traitorous brain supplies. he does not say it aloud, nor does he text it to rufus, because he values his life and also his dignity; instead, tseng sends back, ]
Then come here at 1 PM for a late lunch, and I'll take you out afterward.
[ late lunch, because he knows rufus was asleep until 9:30 easy, and probably only actually got out of bed when the staff member rang his doorbell at 10:00; now, having only eaten breakfast not long ago, it'll probably be until 1:00 before rufus is even hungry again. ]
[Blessedly, Tseng doesn't remark on the construction of his sentence, of how close take me somewhere, out treads to simply being take me out which itself comes painfully, intolerably close to ask me out. But once he's able to compartmentalize the method from the outcome, he can't deny that the prospect of it is appealing — and more than appealing, what he finds he genuinely does want for his birthday.
It's a day that's never really been his own, has it? Always tangled up in things bigger than him, always with his father's fingerprints on it. This is the first birthday he's had since the old man died; as new beginnings go, the prospect of doing something solely for himself, in the company of someone he likes to be around, is...surprisingly compelling.]
I don't dislike that idea.
[Hopefully the teasing comes across, even in text. Maybe a little bit of the relief will, too.]
[ what a thing, to be teased by rufus. not that rufus doesn't have a sense of humor, tseng knows he does, but so often he witnesses it in other contexts, sharper barbs directed at people who don't always know to listen for the acidic note of humor under the words. it's much more rare to hear rufus make a joke he means entirely in good humor, and even rarer still for that joke to be directed at tseng.
it feels... good. a little disorienting, but good. ]
It wouldn't be a very good gift if I didn't.
[ sorry about your control freak tendencies, rufus, but tseng is driving now. ]
[Tseng is, notably, an objectively better driver than he is, if only because of that one maneuver where he cut a single careless angle and grazed the curb just enough to lose a point for it. Not that anyone's keeping score. Or still thinking about it after more than a decade.
This prospect, though, of handing over all the details to Tseng and merely showing up to enjoy the ride is...interesting. Familiar, on some level. Novel, on another.
He rubs the backs of his knuckles absently along the line of his jaw, thinking of a nick that by now has long since healed.]
You'll tell me what to wear?
[If the cadence of his questions is starting to give the impression of resembling a game, that's only because that's exactly what he's doing.]
[ it is definitely a game, that much tseng can tell, although he's still trying to suss out the rules of it. yet another curious feeling: to play a game with rufus, rather than just bearing witness to the games rufus plays with others. ]
I'll give you guidelines. I'm not as intimately familiar with the contents of your wardrobe here as I would have been back home.
[ he has swept rufus' wardrobe once or twice, but since they arrived here buck naked, tseng is sure rufus is still in the process of rebuilding his collection of clothing. who knows what he might have acquired since the last time tseng checked the drawers for bugs? ]
[It's odd how guidelines seems to ping that odd thrill of handing over control even more so than a stricter demand would. Maybe it's because he's used to demands, and is already primed to resist and chafe at them. Guidelines is...softer. More patient. Offers less of a penalty for failure, and more of a promise of approval for adherence.
Or maybe he's just reading too much into it.]
It's about what you would expect. A few suits. A few more casual things. More black than back home.
That one's a necessary hazard of this place. I don't wear white when I visit the Naked Yolk.
[ black at naked yolk, tseng thinks, but cum wouldn't stain white nearly as obviously, and then he puts his entire face into both of his hands for a solid minute to recover from having that thought unbidden. ]
Dress comfortably, in something that accentuates whatever you think are your best features.
[ privately, tseng hopes this means pants that hug his ass and something that matches his eyes; he will, however, accept whatever it is that rufus decides on. ]
[It takes two false starts before he finally manages to formulate his ultimate reply; the first one starts with What do YOU think are my best f and the second makes it halfway to Then shouldn't I match you, because you're my b, and then he sets his watch aside and drinks his coffee and chews on his cinnamon roll until the compulsion to be an absolute fucking disaster leaves his body like an exorcism.]
I saw something at the Nest recently that I liked. Can I charge it to your room?
[It won't escape Tseng's notice, he knows, that he asked. Not just stated an intention and expected acquiescence. The fun of guidance is the reward of approval.]
What hints? If you want me to look good, it must be because someone's going to be looking at me.
[Though, actually. One thing does occur to him, and for all that it will sound like he's immediately breaking the rules the instant Tseng has set them, there is still an element of practicality to it.]
Though you should at least tell me if I'll need a coat. Otherwise I won't wear one.
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no subject
Maybe doubts is the wrong word. Reservations might work better. Tseng, after all, has always seemed more uncomfortable with the state of their respective ranks than even Rufus has himself, has always been deferential and perfect except in those times when Rufus has managed to sink claws in and tear holes in his collected exterior.
Maybe he's waiting for Rufus to say the word.
The problem is, Rufus isn't altogether certain of what might come of it if he does.]
And if you didn't like what I wanted, would you tell me?
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I would tell you if you wanted to know.
[ is that what rufus wants? for tseng to be honest when his wants and desires conflict with rufus' requests? ]
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[He stares at his watch. Draws a slow, steadying breath. Shoves a piece of cinnamon roll into his mouth for good measure.]
I want to spend it with you. As...company.
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Would you like to come over? Or should we go out?
[ after a moment, he sends another: ]
I do not dislike that idea.
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Both.
[And slowly, slowly, he finds himself at the awkward, tentative crux of it.]
You should take me somewhere. Out.
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Then come here at 1 PM for a late lunch, and I'll take you out afterward.
[ late lunch, because he knows rufus was asleep until 9:30 easy, and probably only actually got out of bed when the staff member rang his doorbell at 10:00; now, having only eaten breakfast not long ago, it'll probably be until 1:00 before rufus is even hungry again. ]
no subject
It's a day that's never really been his own, has it? Always tangled up in things bigger than him, always with his father's fingerprints on it. This is the first birthday he's had since the old man died; as new beginnings go, the prospect of doing something solely for himself, in the company of someone he likes to be around, is...surprisingly compelling.]
I don't dislike that idea.
[Hopefully the teasing comes across, even in text. Maybe a little bit of the relief will, too.]
You'll surprise me with our destination?
no subject
it feels... good. a little disorienting, but good. ]
It wouldn't be a very good gift if I didn't.
[ sorry about your control freak tendencies, rufus, but tseng is driving now. ]
no subject
This prospect, though, of handing over all the details to Tseng and merely showing up to enjoy the ride is...interesting. Familiar, on some level. Novel, on another.
He rubs the backs of his knuckles absently along the line of his jaw, thinking of a nick that by now has long since healed.]
You'll tell me what to wear?
[If the cadence of his questions is starting to give the impression of resembling a game, that's only because that's exactly what he's doing.]
no subject
I'll give you guidelines. I'm not as intimately familiar with the contents of your wardrobe here as I would have been back home.
[ he has swept rufus' wardrobe once or twice, but since they arrived here buck naked, tseng is sure rufus is still in the process of rebuilding his collection of clothing. who knows what he might have acquired since the last time tseng checked the drawers for bugs? ]
no subject
Or maybe he's just reading too much into it.]
It's about what you would expect. A few suits. A few more casual things. More black than back home.
That one's a necessary hazard of this place. I don't wear white when I visit the Naked Yolk.
no subject
Dress comfortably, in something that accentuates whatever you think are your best features.
[ privately, tseng hopes this means pants that hug his ass and something that matches his eyes; he will, however, accept whatever it is that rufus decides on. ]
no subject
I saw something at the Nest recently that I liked. Can I charge it to your room?
[It won't escape Tseng's notice, he knows, that he asked. Not just stated an intention and expected acquiescence. The fun of guidance is the reward of approval.]
no subject
You can. I won't look at the receipt until after.
[ so he won't spoil the surprise for himself. it might be rufus' birthday, but who says tseng can't benefit just a little bit, himself? ]
And I'm not giving you any hints, so don't ask.
no subject
[Though, actually. One thing does occur to him, and for all that it will sound like he's immediately breaking the rules the instant Tseng has set them, there is still an element of practicality to it.]
Though you should at least tell me if I'll need a coat. Otherwise I won't wear one.
no subject
I'll see you later today.