Phone
To: Deviantart, Summer fun contest run by TsengxRufus community
Title: Phone
Author: Anae
Beta: Had none, and English ain't my first language so forgive the mistakes.
Fandom: Final Fantasy VII, set between the game and Advent Children
Characters/pairing: Rufus/Tseng
Rating: PG-13; T
Disclaimer: Don't own, there'd be lot more yaoi in Final Fantasy VII if it belonged to me.
Summary: Suggest things in a proper way, and you might save a cell phone's life.
A/N: I don't know if this is enough "Summer fun", but it's strongly related, at least.
Feedback: Makes my world shine. Please be so kind to drop a review.
"No, I do not wish you to take part in that, thank you very much for asking."
A cell phone was firmly put on the table. The hands holding it were not shaking, at least not because of fear. A young, blond man, dressed all in white, glared at the phone, truly considering breaking it. Of course breaking the phone would lead to nothing, except someone buying him a new one, but it wouldn't lead to anything useful, either.
One step back; it would be useful to outrun his frustration on the phone instead of something living.
But, on the other hand, should he be needed, there'd be no way to contact him. Of course, one could always sent someone running or call some Turk or send a fax. But no one, whom he truly needed to be in contact with, would do that. No, they would be pleased to find him not answering, since then they could make a decisions on their own, justifying it by saying "you didn't answer, it was so urgent we had to make a move" or "you didn't even answer, so you don't care, and someone needed to do something".
No, it was best to let the phone live for a while.
Sighing, Rufus Shinra leaned back on his chair. It was a hot sunny day outside, so he thanked God to have a proper air conditioning, otherwise he would've had even worse headache than he already had, thanks to his oh-so-loyal-followers. He hadn't been President for long, not yet, and he had just few days ago gotten the permission to leave the hospital, thanks for the goddamn Weapon, which happened to be responsible for nearly blowing his head off.
Since he was now the President, status inherited from his father, no one was supposed to try to walk over him, no?
Well, take a second guess.
Blue eyes glared at the phone. He was young, yes, but he hadn't let anyone walk over him before this. And he sure as hell wasn't going to start now. Not Reeve, not Scarlett, not even Mutten Gylekate. The only person ever having upper hand on Rufus had been his father, but that problem had been solved some time ago already. His old man was gone, hooray for that.
"Glaring at the phone isn't going to solve anything, sir."
Blue eyes fixed on dark ones before they moved to white roof tiles again. Young blonde's mind wandered back to the beautiful day outside, some people enjoying themselves on the beach, those people who really had time. He hadn't, even though he, at the moment, would've preferred actual wind to air conditioner's quiet hum.
President's thoughts moved again as he eyed the man who had been his personal bodyguard for years. And, as the years had moved on, leaving their never-fading marks to everyone, his bodyguard had become more than meets the eye. Wutaian Turk was standing on the door, having taken only a few steps in. The man's back was straight, his hands behind his back, and calm eyes met his boss' blazing ones with respect. There was nothing bad to say about his uniform either; he was perfect picture of a Turk, just like the leader was supposed to be.
"I suppose throwing it on the wall is out of question too?"
Dark eyebrows frowned, and slightly older man eyed his boss carefully, trying to find clues whether he was serious or not. When he had searched enough, finding or not finding anything, he answered, as calmly as ever: "It will take a few hours for Turks to buy an untraceable, good new cell phone for you, sir. So I'd advice not to."
Rufus sighed, tilting his head to meet Tseng's eyes again. Young President leaned on the table, leaving the other's gaze only to glare the phone murderously. He truly wished to outrun his frustration on it.
And it didn't really help that in rang.
Young President grabbed the phone and eyed the number before flipping cell open and answering. "Yeah?"
It took several minutes before the blond hung up. He didn't let go of the phone, not even when it was flipped shut. The call had actually given him good news, someone finally, finally, realising his position and doing what he was told. It was a small victory, but it was a start.
The phone was again on the table, this time not to be glared at. Another sigh escaped from thin lips as young man leaned backwards, still sitting on his chair. How on earth would he be able to make everyone just back off a little and let him to do his job as Shinra's President? Killing them would be effective, sure, and it would save a lot of time, yes, but it would lead to consequences, even if he and his Turks wouldn't be caught. Of course they wouldn't be caught, but unless they would make it look like an accident, it would slow down the plans. It would be insignificant despite their good changes to make it, since it would lead to investigation by other units and the plans would be slowed down too much.
"Sir, I think you should take a break."
Younger of the two turned his attention to the Turk, who was still standing nearby the door, which he had closed during the conversation. "Don't be kidding, Tseng."
"I am not", came the firm reply. Wutaian's dark eyes met the blue ones as he took a few steps towards the table. "I am simply worried about your physical state. I can see you're exhausted."
The only answer the man, dressed in all black, got was his boss' angry glare. But that had never stopped him before, except maybe a few time in the beginning, nothing he'd admit, and it wasn't going to start now. If President had been dead serious, he would've stepped aside immediately, of course, but he wasn't. So he continued his reasoning, trying to make a point. "You've been out of the hospital for five days now, three with permission to be exact, and you haven't really been sleeping, or eating properly for that matter. Pushing yourself like this, you're just going to end up hospital again. And then hell breaks loose, even Turks won't be able to keep everything under control."
"And by everything, you mean everyone."
Tseng reached the table and as he put his hand on it, he made sure not to lose eye contact. Then he leaned a little forward, dark eyes and tone serious. "Rufus, I'm serious."
Oh, it came to personal state now? And was that undertone behind the seriousness something called worry? Blue eyes left the other's just to glance to door and seeing it happily closed, maybe even locked, they returned to dark orbs staring him. For a while, they were just searching each other's depths through the eyes, the mirror of the soul. In both, there was determination, unwillingness to give up no matter what happened, and something more bubbling beneath the surface.
"So, what do you suggest then?" The other leaned on the table as well, bringing their faces mere inches apart.
"It's summer." A shrug.
"And?" Lift of an eyebrow.
"I'd say we could get a small part of Costa del Sol for a day, or two." Words spoken to ear, close enough to feel other's breath.
"So you'd be coming with me?" Two hands, playing with a black tie.
"Of course, I am your bodyguard." A rare, tiny playful smile on the lips. "Besides, it's been a while." A small, chaste kiss on the lips.
Tseng pulled backwards, eyes never leaving the man he was being paid to protect. Not that the money mattered. Once it had, but not anymore. Dark wutaian eyes were asking the question; whether he had made his point clear enough; whether he had managed to save his President from drowning in exhaustion.
Rufus was the one to break the eye contact as he rose up. At times like this, he had to wonder why. All his life, he had refused to let anyone manipulate or talk him to do something he didn't agree. And here he was, going with Tseng's idea. Not that it sounded bad, to have one or two days off, spend time on the beach, rest on the sun, to have some quality time with Tseng.
Maybe he really was exhausted enough not to fight back, because he sure as hell wasn't easy. Not to deal with, let alone to have relationship with.
Which brought his thoughts back to the handsome wutaian Turk. He still didn't understand how their relationship began and how in earth is was working itself out, but…
Rufus took a couple of steps forward, so that he was standing in front of Tseng. With a grunt, he pulled the Turk into a soul-searing kiss, fighting for dominance, biting, wanting hell lot of more than just one kiss. Hands were touching over the clothes, even beneath them.
But it was not enough, it never was, but this wasn't the place for it.
Men pulled apart, both slightly panting.
"Fine", Rufus finally agreed aloud. He walked to the door, making himself look like he hadn't just almost messed with his bodyguard at the same time. When ready, he opened the door, not even bothering to see Tseng. "I'll have your head if Elena, Rude and Reno haven't taken care of things by the time we return. So, you better be worth of your promises, Tseng." Every single one of them.
"Always, sir. Always", the Turk answered as he reached the President, leaving himself one step behind slightly shorter man, staying as his shadow.
Rufus sighed inwardly. Maybe he was easy, after all. But only for Tseng.
So was the phone forgotten on the table, happy to stay alive for another day. It's greatest threat was now going to spend few earned days to rest in the sun with a person holding it's heart. But the poor cell phone didn't know how hard time it would have for next two days, especially if it'd be on Reno's hands, but it would make it.
Probably.