Tseng had a visceral hate for summer and everything that came with it: fun, vacations, frilly dresses and heat. He hated looking anything less than pristine, with his shirt permanently drenched in sweat and his hair unkempt and plastered to his neck and forehead.

The weather wasn't kind to him, and that day luck wasn't on his side either: the air conditioner was broken and, for as much as Healin was up in the hills, the humidity was heavy enough to cut with a knife, especially inside the Turks' office. Tseng was a very stern and demanding boss, but he knew their suits were threatening to make them all faint, so until the air conditioner was fixed, the dress code was temporarily abandoned.

"It can't be so fucking hot at nine a.m.," was all Reno said that morning, stepping into their shared office.

All their jackets were hanging on their chairs. Reno's shirt was practically fully opened, his rat tail fluttering in time with the fan rotating in front of him. Rude had undone his shirt and even Tseng had allowed himself to open a couple of buttons, his tie loose and his sleeves rolled up to his forearms. He was starting to sweat more than he should have at that time of the morning so he tied his hair up in a messy bun, with strands of hair falling around his face.

"Elena is taking forever, I'm thirsty," Reno complained, moving his torso so he was always in line with the fresh air the fan was providing.

"When are you not thirsty, though?" Rude retorted, and Tseng suppressed a smile.

The door flew open and a very disheveled Elena breezed in, her hair bouncing around her face, white blouse open and high heels clomping on the floor.

"I'm sorry guys, it took me forever and—" She stopped in the doorway, four to five bottles of water pressed tightly against her chest.

For as much as he wanted his gaze to be on her eyes, Tseng didn't fail to notice the hint of her bra underneath her shirt. A very appealing red bra. A red bra that matched her flushed cheeks and red lipstick, and even if her appearance was messy overall, he couldn't help but find her very beautiful. It was only when Rude coughed that he realized he was staring at her, and Elena back at him. They both coughed, averting their eyes. Tseng stood up and took a couple of steps towards her, reaching out a hand to help her.

"I'll… leave the bottles here," she blurted out, briskly depositing the water onto Rude's desk. "I n-need to go to the bathroom."

And then she was gone, disappearing towards the door that led to the restroom.

Tseng stared at the spot where Elena had been standing just a moment ago, his hand still halfway in the air. He looked first at the bottles and then at Rude, who just shrugged before opening one and drinking a mouthful. Tseng had the strange feeling that something was wrong. Elena was sweating after she'd run out as fast as she could to fetch some water for the office, her cheeks red and her breath labored. Tseng feared that the heat, both outside and inside the building, was getting to her, making her sick and faint.

"I'll go and check on her. Reno, please call the maintenance guy again".

Reno nodded and picked up the phone, watching Tseng with a raised eyebrow as he followed Elena.

The recent lack of money from Shinra meant that the Turks' office was not only under-staffed at best, but also that there wasn't enough space to make separate restrooms for men and women, and Elena was practically the only member of the latter category. There's nothing we haven't already seen was her on-point comment.

Tseng found the main door closed. He stood there, uncertain about what to do.

The soft spot he had for Elena was slowly bordering on the verge of the "very inappropriate thoughts he shouldn't have, especially for his partner". During the past few months of working together, he'd started to appreciate her professionalism, her sense of duty, but also her self-irony and humor. And along with respect and friendship, he realized something more was going on. As much as he tried to bury his feelings under layer upon layer of professionalism and even the occasional scowl, every time he closed his eyes all he saw was her. The way her eyes brightened every time she laughed; her smile and those inviting lips that just screamed kiss me .

He took a deep breath and knocked gently on the door. "Elena?" Tseng waited for an answer and when it didn't come he stepped inside. He noticed two of the three stalls were open and he heard noises from the one that was closed, the one furthest from the main door, but still no reply. He took another tentative step. "E—"

"Stupid fucking hair." It was Elena, and her voice was accompanied by the rattle of what sounded like her belt. "Stupid fucking broken air con." Another rattle. "Stupid fucking shirt."

Tseng couldn't help himself and smiled. Elena was no doubt blaming the heat for her ruffled state. The swearing was so much a part of her, even if she would never admit it, that he could literally imagine her angry face. He was glad it was nothing to be worried about, she wasn't going to pass out and probably just needed the bathroom to sort herself out. He was ready to turn towards the door when he heard a moan and stopped abruptly.

Maybe he'd misheard, maybe it was just a frustrated sound, something that escaped from her lips—those glossy and alluring red lips—involuntarily. And he'd almost convinced himself that was the case until he heard her moan again, louder this time. And that was absolutely not a frustrated sound.

Is she… touching herself? he realized, half in awe and half in surprise. A warm sensation spread to a totally inappropriate part of his body and he straightened his back. He tried to think about how unprofessional it was of Elena to do such a thing during work hours, how unethical it was to potentially put her colleagues in the mortifying situation of catching her in the bathroom doing—

"... Tseng ..."

Tseng swore his blood froze in that moment: she heard him. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on something he could say to her. There was no way he couldn't reprimand her for doing such a thing, with every effort to sound disapproving and reproachful, because that's what his position as her boss demanded of him. And yet all he could imagine was her hands caressing her intimate parts, her fingers disappearing into her folds and him watching her. Another jolt from his lower body reminded him that this wasn't absolutely the train of thought he should've been following at that moment. He cleared his throat when he heard her again.

"Oh, gods… Tseng." Her voice was low, almost a whisper, and he heard her smashing something against the wall of the stall before a little cry erupted from her lips.

And then he realized: she hadn't heard him. She was touching herself and thinking about him. Tseng felt his throat go dry. Swallowing became an increasingly difficult task, his blood rapidly leaving his brain to fill the bulge in his pants that was growing with every passing second. Never in a million years would he have believed it if he wasn't hearing it with his own ears. Hearing his name on the lips of the woman he'd fallen for, while she was pleasuring herself.

Tseng often thought about Elena in the private intimacy of his apartment, and it was something he was ashamed to admit. He knew it was juvenile of him to get off thinking about her, fantasizing like a teen. He always tried to fight the urge of a physical release, but there were times when he couldn't stop his more primitive instincts. Now he was looking at himself in the mirror, his erection painfully straining against his pants, and he realized that his mind couldn't form a coherent thought; certainly not one coherent enough to stop him thinking about Elena in a way that was far from professional.

He couldn't go back to the office; Rude and Reno would have questions, and he didn't have his jacket with him to hide his current state. Tseng tried to think about how he could escape from this situation without making it embarrassing for the both of them. When he heard her moan again, higher pitched this time, he walked towards her very carefully and closed himself into the stall furthest from her, trying not to make a single sound, so he could wait out this absurd and lustful situation untiltill she was done.

As soon as he was closed inside, he realized that it had been a good idea in theory. Elena seemed way too occupied with herself to notice the door of the stall open and close, but Tseng on the other hand now could hear more distinctly every little sound she was making. With just thin walls separating them, it was doing nothing to quell the fire in his blood. Blood that was going south at a quick and very dangerous pace.

Elena thinks about me, the woman I lo... She thinks about me. It was all he could think of. He closed his eyes and a very vivid image of Elena came to him, flustered, her eyes half closed and her mouth open, splayed on a bed watching him. He leaned against the wall of the stall, realizing that his breath was short and labored, and when another little whiny moan—his name again—came from the other side, all sense of rationality went out the window and he unbuttoned his pants, freeing himself from his briefs.

It was wrong. What he was doing was wrong. What both of them were doing was wrong on so many levels. But when he let his hand slide down his entire length, squeezing, his hand became hers in his mind and he suppressed the groan that was about to escape his mouth. He kept his eyes closed and when he started to pump, in his imagination there were no walls dividing them.

They were in his apartment, alone, Elena on the bed, naked, underneath him. Her hands were touching him, caressing his arm and his face. It wasn't his hand on his cock anymore; it was hers, moving from base to tip, painstalking slowly, feeling every ridge and making him shiver with pleasure. Elena. He was kissing her, finally, her lips soft and gentle against his own until the kiss became fiercer and fiercer and she opened up to him.

Another moan, louder than the others, and Tseng knew Elena was getting closer.

He was kissing her lips, then all the way down her neck, her mouth moaning with pleasure he was responsible for. Elena. A kiss on her small breasts, his tongue flicking to her nipples. And there she was, her legs open for him and sliding inside her was the easiest and most natural thing in the world, her folds slowly allowing him in. And then it wasn't his hand around himself anymore, but it was her. Elena. He couldn't go slow, not when he was buried inside her, not when her face was a picture of pure bliss, not when her walls were clenching around him, urging him to move. He started to thrust, fast, each time deeper and deeper, craving the feeling of being one with her.

"Oh fuck, Tseng." He knew she came in that moment. Her belt rattled again.

He wasn't going to last, not when he could imagine her lips, both her lips, quivering and riding her orgasm like a violent wave while he was still fucking her. Not when her walls were clenching around him.

The sound of her voice, pleading his name just moments ago, was his breaking point. When he came, his release was half physical, half emotional, and he couldn't help himself. For as much as he tried to not make a single sound, her name inevitably was on his lips too.

"... Elena." A whisper, her name soft and delicate even though his voice was hoarse, a silent plea while he was trying to brace himself, so low that she probably didn't hear him. It took him a good minute, his mind still in a state of blissful contentment, before he realized that he couldn't hear any more sounds from the other stall.

"Tseng?"

Suddenly the blood rushed back to his brain: Elena had heard him. Elena had heard him, and if she had, she knew exactly what he'd done. He opened his eyes and looked at the mess he'd just made, figuratively and literally. There were no words to describe how miserable he felt in that moment. Fantasizing about her in the privacy of his own home was one thing. Jerking off in the stall next to her was off the scale of inappropriate things to do in the presence of someone you had feelings for. He was mortified .

She fell silent but the door of her stall didn't open. She must have been waiting for an answer, and he couldn't hide any more.

"Yes," was all he managed to say, with so much regret in his voice that he didn't sound like himself.

Tseng heard the door open and the sound of her heeled shoes. He knew he had to apologize, he just didn't know how. There wasn't a protocol he could follow to fix things, not after something like this. She was probably back in the office already, somewhere between embarrassed and sorry, waiting for the reprimand that she would be convinced was coming her way.

Taking a deep breath was harder than he imagined, especially with the hot, soupy air that was filling his lungs. He cleaned himself with tissue paper and buttoned up his pants. When he opened the door he stopped; Elena was facing the sinks with her back to him, and he realized she was waiting for him. He had to act like an adult, so he moved beside her to wash his hands. The tension between them was palpable and, for a moment, the only sound was the water running.

"What happened here is unclassifiable." Tseng wanted to sound as incisive as possible, partially to hide his embarrassment. He was flustered, but thanks to the sweat and heat it was probably hard to tell. He couldn't even raise his head to look at her.

"Yes," she replied.

"I expect things to carry on as usual."

"Yes."

"And… I apologize for what happened." He turned off the faucet and looked at his reflection in the mirror. "It was selfish and very unprofessional of me, and I didn't mean to invade your privacy. The best course of action is that we both forget this, the sooner the better."

Elena turned off the water too. "Understood." Tseng noticed from the corner of his eye that she was mirroring his pose, and she was watching herself in the mirror. "What if I don't want to forget?"

Tseng froze, and he slowly turned his head towards her.

"I heard you say my name when… and..." Elena continued, putting both her wet hands on her face before facing him. "There are times when I—" He could see her struggling to find the right words. "I don't want to forget."

She was staring at him and Tseng couldn't do anything other than stare back at her. She was embarrassed, it was easy to tell, but her eyes didn't falter and he could see in them the strength and determination that made her Elena. Her shirt was still half open, just enough to see a glimpse of the red bra underneath. He'd thought about the possible outcomes of this conversation, and Elena's answer wasn't the one he was really expecting.

"Is this what you want?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

She nodded, and as soon as his eyes fell to her mouth he knew there was no stopping himself. He closed the short distance between them and barely registered her surprised reaction when he cupped her face, pushing her to the wall near the sinks and kissing her. Her lips were salty but sweet, and they were heavenly soft; much softer than he had ever imagined. Tseng buried both his hands in her hair, pulling her towards him more, and when she answered the kiss, grabbing the collar of his shirt, they both opened their mouths. Feeling her, really feeling her beneath his fingers was something he never imagined he wanted this much. Feeling her body pressing into his was strange and yet so natural. The temperature in the room seemed to rise again as one of Elena's hands started to roam dangerously near the waistband of his trousers.

He didn't want the moment to end, but he knew too much time had passed since they left the office. If Reno or Rude weren't worried before, they would probably have started to get suspicious by now. Tseng gently took her hand in his and slowly broke the kiss, opening his eyes.

"We need to get back." His voice was gentle, almost a caress, and he let his eyes wander to her face.

"Yeah, you're right." Elena was staring at his shirt, her cheeks redder than they should have been, and she was averting her gaze again.

He looked at her and smiled, raising her chin with his index finger so she could look at him. "Later?" He cocked his eyebrow with a mischievous smile.

She stared at him and giggled. "Yes."

Tseng smiled. "My place." He leaned over her, kissing her briefly on the lips before moving his head so he could graze her ear. "Don't forget the red bra."