~ Parenthesis~

By: LunarPlexus

Plot: A continuation of my Reno and Rufus thing.

Warnings: Lots of language, M/M, sexual content, everything you should expect from me :P

Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy and I make no profit from writing this…except kicking my writer's block!

~ * ~

Sit down and shut up.

I know how hard this is for you, but try, will you?

I have a story to tell you, and it's a good one. You shouldn't mind sitting quietly for a bit, and listening.

And keep your hands off me. Don't touch me.

This is exactly what you wanted. A story.

I know you're already dying to put me in my place, or at least try. Don't bother. It never worked before, and it won't now. Sometimes I wonder if that's the reason things stand this way with us. You always got what you wanted, I guess. Now, me?

(Give it to me now)

I'm not too bad at getting my way either.

To get what you want outta me, you have to fight for it. It might seem to other people like your life's been the sweet one. Never having to struggle to get anything. Must have been nice, right? Well, I'm not that stupid. I've heard your theory on me…I'm not happy unless I'm fighting something. Well, I've got the scoop on you, and I know how much you love fighting for something. Sure, you still expect to get it, but it's the fight that does it for you.

You're a fucking pervert, and we both know it.

You asked for this, you know. You wanted a story. This is a good one.

So listen. But don't move, and don't open that mouth of yours unless you're planning on putting it to good use. Quietly.

* * *

Let's start in the middle.

I can't pin down exactly where the middle would've been, but I've got an idea.

It would have been that time on the couch when I got you to tell me exactly what you wanted me to do to you.

Oh, yeah, I know you remember that.

You're so cool and calm, and you got no problem ordering people around, but you're lucky nobody else knows about you that way. I doubt anybody would take you seriously if they knew you couldn't even bring yourself to talk in the bedroom.

Get that look off your face. This is a story, remember? I'm telling it.

I remember it like it was this morning. I had to pull your hair pretty damn hard to get you to answer me.

(What do you want? You're not getting anything until you tell me what you want.)

I guess it worked, because you babbled like a crazy person after that.

I call that the middle, because that's when things started changing. For one thing, I almost wish I didn't make you do that, because these days it seems like all I get to listen to is a whole load of shit about everything you want.

(Do it to me, do it for me, do it with me.)

Here, this is where it changed.

You told me to lick you all over, and I did it. You told me to bend you over, and I did it. You told me to fuck you 'til you were dead, and I did it.

Nearly.

I would've done all that anyway. I wanted to, I always wanted to. The change was that you told me to.

I told you over and over that I wanted you to tell me what you wanted. You thought I was bossing you around? That's a fucking lie. I didn't give the orders. I made you give them to me.

I needed that. You don't know what it was about. I've taken orders from you for as long as I can remember, before all this. You think I put up a good fight whenever you tell me to do something. I still do it though, don't I?

(Get me a coffee, take my calls, go with Rude, drop the plate, touch me, touch me, fuck me)

It's the only thing I know how to do, you selfish prick.

And this was one place where I didn't have to take your fucking orders. Look what I did. I made you give them to me. I need to do what you say so badly, that I pushed you to boss me around.

You've called me a lot of names over the years. I don't care what you've got to say about me, but there is one thing that sticks out. You called me 'sick' a few times. You were probably right.

Don't touch me right now. I'm telling you, you don't want to try it.

Anyway, I know I said that this was where things changed. It doesn't seem like it, does it? You're wrong, because there was change here. Things had changed, and I changed it back. Pretty good trick, right?

Like turning water into wine, into water.

Whatever. It doesn't matter now. Besides, if I think about that day any longer I won't be able to finish the story.

* * *

I don't know where to go from the middle.

I'll make it the beginning.

Of course you remember. It was your fault.

I don't know what the hell was wrong with you. You were the one who told me to do it. I did what you told me.

(Push the button.)

I didn't like doing that, you know. Me and Rude had to go through hell to get back here, and the last thing I needed was getting dragged into your office to listen to you bitching about damage control. As if it had never been your idea in the first place. You got what you wanted, again. What the hell were you complaining about?

Oh, I know. But seriously, you could have left it at that. You could have sat back and relaxed. For once in your fucking life, you could have shut up for a minute and enjoyed being on top. But the top isn't good enough for you, is it? Once you win, you've got nothing left to do. I know how much you hate it.

You didn't stop to think what I'd done for you.

That's why we're here, isn't it? So you don't have to do these things. You can just sit back in your high-backed chair while we go out and do the dirty. See, that's where I snapped.

(You should have got off your ass and pushed that fucking button yourself.)

That's why I hit you. That's why I got the gun out.

Because I wondered who I'd be if I wasn't a Turk. Because for a minute, I wanted to find out. I wanted to get out of that room, that building, that whole damn life. And I really, really wanted to see you dead.

You're really lucky you're alive right now. After you locked that door, I was a second away from putting a bullet right between your eyes.

(Open the door, Rufus.)

I wanted to kill you.

(I'm telling you, open the door now.)

I wanted to make sure you could never talk again.

(Open the fucking door right now, or I'll kill you, I really will, so open that fucking door NOW.)

Now, I've never understood why you did what you did. I can't decide whether you were too stupid to realise how serious I was, or if you were just arrogant. If you walk up and kiss a man who's pointing a gun at your face, aching to pull the trigger, then you're as crazy as he is.

I know I kissed back. But I didn't drop that gun, did I? I wasn't in love with you, I just wanted to hurt you. So I made your lips bleed, and I nearly broke your arms. I remember you dragged me onto that desk of yours, and I had to drop the gun.

(I hope this fucking hurts.)

I told you, don't touch me.

I wasn't careful. I'm not sorry. I wanted to hurt you.

And, you know, after wards…you were so cocky. I guess for a little while I'd got one over on you. I was wrong, wasn't I? I gave you exactly what you wanted.

Again.

I dropped that gun, and grabbed you instead. And in a way, I never picked it up again. I kept fucking you, until I ended up with my toothbrush in your bathroom, and my underwear on your bedroom floor. I signed away my life when I dropped that gun.

I wish I had shot you.

Because I'm not going to survive this thing we're doing.

I'm going to die being your pet. Oh, I know I'm not going to stop on that account. Self-destruction has always been my addiction, and this is about as self-destructive as you can get.

No, I'll either end up wasting away, or you'll pull some strings when you're bored with me, and I'll disappear off the face of the earth. And I'll be doing what you tell me 'til the day I die.

* * *

"So what's the end?"

"We're not there yet, are we?"

(I'll end up wasting away.)

"Now, now…don't disappoint me."

(And I'll be doing what you tell me…)

* * *

Since you want it so bad, here's the end.

I just gave you an idea. I painted you a nice big, messy picture of everything that's gone on. You can tell a lot about the future from it, and that's how I know where I'm going to end up. But, if your imagination's working, I can give you an alternate ending.

You remember all this as well as I do. I might remember it differently from what you do, but we both know what happened.

I want you to think about a few things.

Think of that couch.

Think of the gun.

Think of that desk.

Remember what your mouth felt like after I wrecked it.

Remember every single time you've told me to do something, and I've gone off my nut at you. Remember how I always did it in the end anyway.

(Get me a coffee, take my calls, go with Rude, drop the plate, touch me, touch me, fuck me)

You know what? Maybe there's a slim chance that I won't end up the way I said. Maybe something will change between now and then. I doubt it, but maybe.

So here's the other ending.

One day, you'll tell me to get you a coffee. You'll say it without even looking up from whatever you're doing.

And I won't swear at you, I won't complain.

(We're here so you don't have to do these things. I did everything you ever told me to.)

Rufus, I'll just say no.

Now.

(Touch me.)

Touch me.

~ * ~

A/N: So that's it! I ruined all the sleep I needed for work to write this, dammit. Seriously, I developed a temporary Red Bull addiction, and stayed up every night until it was done. I'm not sure how well it turned out, because it was really hard, but this is my best. So please, rate and review!