Title :: Power Play
Authors :: Alexj69(Lazard), Whiskey (Tseng)
Pairing :: Tseng/Lazard, hints of Tseng/Rufus
Rating :: NC-17 overall
Warnings :: Language, drunkenness, spanking, rimming, slight humil, dirty talk, hot guy-on-guy action
Summary :: Lazard gives Genesis a mission he believes is beneath him, and he goes straight to the young vice president to appeal it. Part 9 of many.

AN1:Okay, everyone, we really wanted to just finish out the scene with Lazard and Tseng, so that's what we did. The next few chapters after this one, we will get back to Genesis/Rufus. This chapter was meant to come out last weekend, but RL came up, so please don't hold it against us.

AN2: Thank you to Khfujoshgirl98, Soyna, Requiem's Razor, Violetsake, Kiti Renentine, ViviMouse, Yuzu, Reviewer, Athenaion, Ελευδια, Katsy, and obron. Your reviews mean the world to us, as they tell us what we are doing right and wrong, and what you would like to see more of and what direction you would like to see the story go. We sincerely appreciate that you took the time to leave a comment or review. So, thank you so very much. And also our thanks goes out to everyone who's been following this story so far, thanks for the favorites and the alerts. ALL OF YOU ROCK!

In response to Lazard's antagonizing, and with a heavy, exhausted heart, Tseng glared at the director before he left the room. "Leave Rufus out of this," Tseng shot back, even though he had been the one to bring it up. "You'll notice I wouldn't take advantage of you either, Director… do what you wish with that information." He reddened at the comment about the show, and scowled when Lazard left, drying his legs and groin with the towel once left alone, and dressing himself in most of his suit, not bothering with the tie or jacket. Tseng stared himself down in the mirror. "I need to quit letting him get to me… and just do my job." He straightened his ponytail and, after judging that he looked smart, turned on the bathroom fan and left the door open, following Lazard into the kitchen to make sure he didn't give himself alcohol poisoning due to his poor state of emotion.

In the kitchen, Lazard opened the cupboard angrily and selected a bottle from his stash, lost in his own thoughts. Why am I letting that bastard affect me so badly? I was just going after sex, wasn't I? And I've been turned down before; not often, but it's happened. So, why does Tseng's opinion and refusal even matter? It's not like I can't do better than him. Hell, I don't even like him...do I?

Lazard tipped the bottle of gin back to his lips, with the full intention of becoming so trashed he became stupid. He didn't even care if Tseng thought him a drunken fool right now.

Lazard had already downed a good bit of liquor before Tseng made it into the kitchen. And considering that he wasn't using a glass, it was hard to judge how much the blond had already consumed.

The oldest Shinra (though not claimed) turned to face Tseng fully when the Turk entered his kitchen. "Tseng, I have to tell you something." He stared the assassin in the eyes. "I don't particularly like you. You are very... and this may sound immature, but... you are mean to me."

Lazard took another swallow from the bottle. He shook his head slightly as a sweet, pleasant tingle washed over his body. "Now, the smart thing for me to do would be to say to you, 'Tseng, get the hell out of my apartment before I throw you out.' However, we both know that A) You're not going to listen to me, and B) I couldn't throw you out even if I tried. So therefore, I'm not even going to bother with telling you to get the hell out. What a pointless endeavor that would be."

Lazard drank again, and swayed on his feet. By now half the contents of the bottle were gone. "So, I've thought of a way to make you want to leave on your own." Lazard smiled, feeling proud of himself, and very, very drunk. "I'm going to ask you a very personal question, and you're going to get all flustered, and your cheeks are going to turn bright red. You will mumble something under your breath

about how terrible it is to be stuck with me, and then hopefully you will go away, and stop fucking with my emotions." Lazard chuckled into his gloved hand. "Tell me, which is more painful for you Tseng, the fact that my little brother is fucking around with a very sexy SOLDIER, or the fact that he didn't choose you?"

Tseng sighed. Now he had to deal with a drunk on top of it all? "I don't like you either," he lied outright, hoping that Lazard was lying as well, blowing the situation out of proportion since he had managed to drink himself stupid in an incredibly short amount of time. Snatching the bottle of gin from Lazard's hand despite the blond's murmur of protest, Tseng replied, "This is precisely why I am not leaving—you clearly cannot control yourself."

But Lazard kept talking, and Tseng did find himself flushing slightly at the question. "I am not going to discuss my personal life with you," Tseng angrily objected, dodging the question altogether. "Even if I wanted to, it would only give you ammunition to rally against me further and prevent me from doing my job. A job I am beginning to wonder how badly I want," he continued, almost to himself.

In his mind, he knew that the latter option Lazard had given was the true one... no matter whom Rufus had picked, it would hurt. The fact that he had chosen a handsome SOLDIER only showed that the boy had good taste. Tseng had his doubts about Rhapsodos as a human being, but as a specimen of manhood, Rufus had chosen well.

... Except I could probably nail him in the back of the head with my pistol, and he wouldn't even know it until he had bled out, Tseng thought mercilessly, a slight smile curling at his lips. Well, that's an option if he hurts the boy, certainly.

Turning back to Lazard, he made a show of pouring the rest of the gin down the drain. "I'll buy you another, Director, but not today," he offered.

Lazard sighed, and threw his hands up dramatically. Then he moved to Tseng and grabbed the Turk by his impeccably pressed white shirt. He shook the man weakly. "Tseng... don't you get it, it hasn't even been a full day... and..." He stopped, forgetting what he was about to say for a moment. "Oh, I want you not to want this job." The director was slurring his words and whining. "You're fucking up my life..." He ceased shaking the Turk.

Dropping his head on Tseng's shoulder, Lazard whispered, "Why do you hate me so much? I know I'm not Rufus, but... but... he's a snot nosed spoiled asshole."

Lazard suddenly stood to his full height again. "You irritate me Tseng. Get the fuck out." The blond stumbled his way out of the kitchen. "I was going to let you screw me, you bastard. But noooo, I'm not Rufus fucking Shinra. Fuck you Tseng." Lazard somehow made it to his couch without falling.

"Yes, lie down, sir," Tseng encouraged, hoping the honorific would help persuade Lazard that he didn't in fact hate him. Ignoring the stab about Rufus, and ignoring the strange ache he felt when Lazard asked why he hated him, he followed Lazard into the living room, and sat down beside him, gently moving Lazard a bit where he was laying down to make sure he was on his side. It's just as well you aren't Rufus, Tseng thought to himself; I'd get fired for touching the boy, but you're a grown man... He ignored how the thought made him feel.

Stroking Lazard's hair and pulling it out of his face, Tseng sighed, and removed the director's glasses with one hand idly to prevent them from breaking. "You're hard work," he whispered, so that Lazard couldn't hear him. "Just lie here until you feel better, Lazard," Tseng murmured softly. "Nobody hates you. Nobody is choosing anyone over you. Please don't project your feelings about your father onto me," he soothed. "I won't ignore you, if you don't lash out at me, sir."

Lazard squinted when he lost his glasses. He needed them to see anything beyond bright blurry images here and there. He felt lost without them, and had he not been drunk, he might have panicked. Now that he was a bit calmer, the director moved so that his head was in Tseng's lap and his fingers began tracing small circles on the Turk's leg. "I lied when I said I didn't like you, Tseng. But you still are annoying."

The Turk could feel Lazard sigh. "And I still think you're pretty." Then the blond chuckled. "And you really do have one hell of a cum face. I will probably be masturbating to it for the next few weeks." Lazard was losing all his inhibitions, as if he had many to start with.

"And if you ever just want a good lay, well, you know how to find me. It can be meaningless, or..." Or what, Lazard? Eh, fuck it, he somehow didn't care what he said right now. Everything was wonderful, and the full body buzz made it that much better. "Or if you want it to mean something, I will try really hard to make it work."

Tseng blushed despite himself when he heard Lazard speak so bluntly about his private moment in the shower. He couldn't keep the shock off his face when he heard what Lazard had said next, however. 'If you want it to mean something, I will try really hard to make it work…' Was Lazard… asking him out? No, of course not, he was drunk. But weren't people more honest while drunk?

Feeling something tremble in his chest, Tseng replied, "We can discuss this when you're sober, Lazard. But… thank you." He turned away suddenly, flushed with heat, continuing to smooth gloved fingers over Lazard's hair, ignoring the tingling in his thighs of Lazard's presence.

Out of the blue, shrugging off Tseng's words, Lazard began to bob his head side to side on the Turk's lap. "It's fun to stay at the YMCA, it's fun to stay at the YMCA-A." The director started doing the motions to the song with the side of his body he wasn't laying on. "They have everything for you here to enjoy... you can hang out with all the boys..." Lazard was giggling and singing at the same time, getting louder as he started a new song, "Come on Tseng... sing with me now. I know you know this one. "It's raining men, Hallelujah..."

"Oh, dear Gaia. Even when you're drunk, you're gay," Tseng sighed, rubbing his temples with his fingers. He wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry.

They sat in silence for a little while after that, before Lazard sat up. "Tseng... just fucking stop, okay. You are not some virgin prude who is so chaste he doesn't even know what sex is. And you know what else... your morals are even more skewed than mine, so please drop the pretenses." Lazard kicked off his shoes and moved so he was straddling Tseng's hips. "I also lied when I said I wasn't going to

peruse you anymore. You are too sexy for me not to."

Lazard then dipped his head and claimed Tseng's mouth, kissing the man hard, ignoring any forms of protest the Turk might have offered. This time, the SOLDIER director would not be denied or refused again, and if the Turk didn't like it, well, that was his problem.

Lazard kissed until the other man's lips parted and he could slide his tongue into the moist, warm opening. Fingers entwined in rich, silken black strands and Lazard held Tseng's head still so he could plunder his mouth before having to break away for a much needed breath. "Tseng," Lazard let the Turk's name roll off his lips, breathlessly. "Take me to my bedroom... then fuck my brains out." Lazard's entire body was a raging inferno. "That is an order." From the look in the director's ice blue eyes, Tseng could tell he was serious.

Tseng had no choice but to let Lazard's tongue into his mouth, body flushed with the desire he had been withholding. The sensation of Lazard's fingers in his hair as they ripped out the gray band holding it back made him whimper slightly. Then Lazard pulled back, and Tseng felt the last of his resolve crumble. Clearly the director would not take no for an answer... and though Tseng did fear how it would pan out, he also could no longer fight his body.

He got to his feet and allowed Lazard his arm, though the director seemed to feel good enough to walk mostly without wobbling, and they entered the richly decorated bedroom. Forgetting everything and clearing his mind completely, Tseng pushed Lazard against the side of the bed until he toppled over onto his back, then pinned his thin gloved wrists to the mattress and smirked down at him. "An order?" Tseng murmured, silky black hair almost close enough to tickle Lazard's cheeks. "I'm the one with the gun, remember?" the Turk retorted playfully, as he dipped his face down to kiss and suck at Lazard's neck while he untied the director's cravat with one hand, using his body weight to subdue him. His other hand played in Lazard's hair, tugging at it gently. Tseng pulled the cravat free and tossed it behind him, working at the buttons on Lazard's shirt with abandon, feeling his desire intensify exponentially with each bit of Lazard's body he exposed. "You're lucky I couldn't say no to you," Tseng hissed, reaching down to give Lazard's straining erection a squeeze as he took a nipple between his teeth, driven by revenge as well as lust. Lazard would pay for how much irritation he had caused the Turk, but in a way both of them would enjoy.

Lazard's body responded to each and every one of Tseng's touches. His skin was burning hot, and his basic core caused him to arch into the Turk's skillful ministrations. His own fingers busied themselves in the splay of long black hair, while his hips rocked upward, shoving his huge erection into Tseng's tightening grip.

Lust and wanton desire had clouded his mind, and as Tseng tore away his clothing, he likewise returned the favor. "You're right, I am lucky you couldn't say no," he agreed as he finally pulled off his gloves, needing to feel Tseng's flesh with his bare hands. His fingertips ran gently down the Turk's back, and he mentally admired those tight muscles that defined the assassin's body.

Finally both were completely naked, with Tseng laying atop Lazard, their hard cocks rubbing together and their lips tangled in passion. "Tseng," Lazard hissed when the Turk broke the kiss for a moment. "Go down." Pulling slightly on his bodyguard's hair, he urged the man to move his mouth closer to his throbbing shaft.

Tseng was far from shy about being naked in front of the director, even though he thought he would be; all that was on his mind was the lovely, thin body trembling before him. He dipped his head down to tease the head of Lazard's aching cock just slightly, tongue tracing along the sensitive underside, as his fingers ran lightly along Lazard's trembling thighs. "Yes, sir," Tseng mumbled into Lazard's skin, dragging his lips upward to close around Lazard's cock, opening his mouth and throat to take him in to the hilt. Lazard moaned wantonly, hips bucking into Tseng's mouth. Black hair fell to Lazard's thighs and was brought up again with the motion of Tseng's mouth, riding the director's shift roughly enough to provoke him, but not enough to get him off.

Tseng pulled off of Lazard's rod and licked his lips, smirking devilishly at the aroused director. He pulled Lazard by the hair to a sitting position and smacked his cheek with his cock. "My turn."

Lazard quivered with anticipation. The blowjob he'd just received was heavenly. Dear goddess, Tseng was one mean cocksucker. It was a trait that Lazard looked forward to becoming accustomed to.

He was then moved easily into a sitting position, and his excitement grew once again. He had seen Tseng's cock in the shower, but this time, he was getting a more... personal view. When Tseng smacked his face, his mouth instantly opened as if he were a trained whore, who knew how to mouth fuck a cock.

Wrapping his hand around the base of the dark beauty's heavy shaft, Lazard pulled on the stiff member a few times before allowing his tongue to emerge and licking every inch of it. He made sure to include Tseng's sac in the lavish tongue bath, before he spread his lips and slowly fed himself the engorged member. He sucked the cock down, taking his time, allowing Tseng's body to become overridden with euphoric sensations. He wanted the Turk to enjoy what pleasures he had to offer, and sucking a dick was one of them.

Finally, Lazard tightened his lips, hollowed his cheeks, pushed his tongue against the slippery, precum-soaked slit, and began to swallow. It was a vacuum against his soon-to-be lover's already sensitive tool. He did this until he felt Tseng about to cum, then he pulled his hot cavern from the cock with a loud pop.

Tseng had nearly come in Lazard's mouth, for the second time that day; as it stood, he could barely keep his knees from buckling as his senses were assaulted by the most talented partner he had ever had in his life. He should have known the director was so good in bed, what with all the stories he'd heard… "Yeah, that's it," he murmured softly, fingers twirling in blond hair as he rocked his hips. A blast of cool air hit his wet prick as Lazard pulled off of him, sitting back wantonly and looking up at Tseng.

The director then smiled up at Tseng, knowing he'd done a good job. "And how would you like me next, Mr. Tseng?" The director lay back on the bed, spread his legs wide and brought his knees up. He knew there was no way he was getting to top this time and he was fine with that. "Would you like to take me now, Tseng?" Lust laced the blond's tone. Lust and need.

The Turk soon realized he wanted to fuck the smile right off of Lazard's face, for being so difficult all afternoon. "Get up on your knees," Tseng snapped, and followed Lazard, admiring the director's long, lean body as he went, and gave his ass a firm slap. "If this was all you wanted, you could have been kinder... but that's all right, you've made this fun," Tseng sneered, and spanked Lazard again, harder this time, eliciting a yelp from the blond. Suddenly memories of spanking Rufus as a child came to the forefront of his mind, and Tseng felt himself throb desperately with arousal. He knew it was wrong, but he didn't care.

"Right there, on your hands and knees," Tseng ordered, and Lazard obeyed, though his skin still stung.

"This is what you get for making my life hell all afternoon," Tseng vented, and landed one gloved hand harshly on the director's bottom. Lazard whimpered, and Tseng's cock twitched at the sound. So much like Rufus... what else would he do that was like Rufus? "That hurt?" Tseng taunted, and slapped him again, the next whimper choking into a sobbed moan, and Tseng could see Lazard's hand come up to grip his cock. "You like it," Tseng sneered, and then lost control. "You—filthy—slut—just—wanted—this—all—along..." he teased Lazard, punctuating each word with a spank, dragging louder and louder whimpers from the shameless director. Gods, did he sound like his brother... Tseng couldn't take it anymore. "Where's your lube? Find it, or I'll fuck you dry," he growled.

Lazard found it hard to position himself easily on his hands and knees, since his right hand was bandaged. However, he was in no position to protest, since he had surrendered his control to the Turk. He would just have to manage the best he could.

The slaps to his ass were painful goodness, and after every hit, he pushed his ass backward as if begging for more, yet every time Tseng's hand came down to connect with his bare flesh, he jerked away. The domination play was making his cock twitch and leak.

The director was whining and whimpering as Tseng took his time in abusing his poor bottom. The burning pain against his backside was becoming almost unbearable, yet he ached for more. Unable to keep himself steady due to his hurt hand, Lazard fell to his chest, though his ass remained in the air for Tseng to do with as he pleased. The blond's good hand went to his pulsating cock and began to tug on it in time to his spankings. "Yes... sir..." Lazard cried, "hurt... hurt me..." The man's brain was overcome with pleasure mixed with pain. "Yes... sir... I fucking love it." He wiggled his ass, corresponding to the whips he was taking.

When Tseng had demanded his lube, Lazard was hesitant to answer. Maybe his punishment would be continued for showing reluctance. "Sir..." Then came a whispered, almost shy, "...more, please?"

Tseng grinned almost coldly; it was more like a sneer. "More?" Gloved hands caressed the abused cheeks, sending shivers up Lazard's spine. "You should hear what my Turks say about you," Tseng purred, fingers slipping down slender thighs and back up to Lazard's reddened skin, slapping hard enough to sting. "About how you've wanted to get in bed with each and every one of your men. And how... ijealous/i you were that Rufus got to Genesis before you did." Tseng smirked. "What a shame, that a man of your stature is reduced to sucking a Turk's cock."

Another smack and Tseng decided he was finished for now, and rubbed his hands soothingly across the abused area. "Or reduced to jerking off your own brother," a dark voice whispered before Tseng pressed his lips and tongue between Lazard's cheeks, tracing circles before it finally dipped its way inside, flesh and leather gently handling the director's balls.

While Lazard was not a pain junkie, he had always enjoyed a good amount of discipline during sex play. And he was pleasantly surprised to find Tseng was so good at it. Truth be told, he was surprised that he was naked with the Turk at all. Tseng had refused him a number of times during the course of the day, and Lazard hadn't had any real plans of seducing the man until Tseng had bandaged up his

hand. He was happy he perused the course of action he had decided on.

His body jerked when yet another harsh blow was delivered. So... fucking... good. And Tseng's words caused the blond to feel dirty and shameful. He lowered his head in complete submission, his cock aching. Yes, he had been reduced to sucking the cock of a Turk. He really was a filthy slut and he knew it. Some parts of one's past will always stay with them.

The moan that escaped from Lazard when Tseng's tongue began its assault on his tight entrance caused his whole body to reverberate. His teeth clenched together as he stopped himself from screaming out the ecstatic feeling. He pushed his ass back against the Turks face, wanting more and more of that wet muscle penetrating him. "Oh... ifuck/i Tseng... that's right... lick me... fuck... fuck... iharder/i." His hips were grinding against hot lips and the hand he was using to jack himself off increased in speed. "Top... drawer... fuck Tseng... lube." He managed to hiss before all rational thought was drained from him.

Tseng nearly groaned at the sound of his name on the director's trembling lips, as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and leaned forward to nearly tear the top drawer clean out of Lazard's dresser in search for lube. Tseng tore off his gloves with his teeth and coated the fingers of his right hand, working one into Lazard's shivering body. "You're tight for such a slut," Tseng hissed. "Look at me." Lazard turned, and his flushed cheeks and messy hair betrayed him. He looked so debauched, so far from his usual pristine self, so erotic it made Tseng's throbbing prick ache with need. "Fuck," Tseng responded to the image, adding another finger, working Lazard open as quickly as possible. When the blond was responding to his satisfaction, Tseng gave himself a few quick strokes with lubricant, and grabbed Lazard by the hips, easing his cock slowly inside.

Lazard kept his head turned toward Tseng as the Turk began to invade him. Even though he had just had the dark beauty's cock in his mouth, he still couldn't come to grips with the size of the tool about to impale him.

Taking a few deep breaths, the director forced himself to relax. The tip pushed through his outer ring, and the old familiar sting of the onset of what promised to be an amazing anal fuck, set his blood boiling and caused his prick to pulse against his palm. His heart was hammering hard in his chest, his breathing had become erratic and his lips quivered out his moans.

Lazard still hadn't come to grips with the fact that Tseng – Tseng of the Turks – was pushing his hard cock deep into his ass. The feeling of being a filthy whore once again seized him.

Only when the Turk bottomed out inside him, did Lazard turn his face away. He was thankful that Tseng was going slow, giving him time to adjust. Once the blond felt the pain subside, and the pleasure of being filled take over, did he start to move his hips, giving the Turk the go ahead to begin moving.

"That's right, Lazard," Tseng breathed, groaning slightly as he began to thrust, running his hands up and down Lazard's back both to soothe him and to intensify their contact. Shaking jet black hair from his eyes, Tseng pushed forward, and held Lazard's shoulders, pulling him back to meet his thrusts. Fingers curled in blond hair, tugging it hard enough to feel but not hard enough to hurt. A muffled moan came from the blond's face, buried in the pillow. "Like that?" Tseng asked simply, allowing himself a pleasured sigh, thrilled with the way Lazard felt clenching around him. It really was surprising how tight the director was. Tseng had thought him to be an utter tart. "Let me," he whispered into Lazard's ear, brushing the blond's clumsy left hand away with his dominant hand, grasping the director's cock and stroking it in time with his thrusts, pulling Lazard back by the hair to let the sound of his voice fill the room with lusty cries.

Lazard was being stretched around the hard prick pushing in and pulling out of him. And with every thrust of the Turk's hips, the head of that massive, glorious cock stabbed against the director's inner button.

The older non-claimed Shinra willingly gave control over his own dick to the man fucking him, allowing Tseng to drag him to new heights. Were his head not clouded in lust, he would have found it comical that he had initiated, no, idemanded/i this encounter, only to surrender every aspect of the situation to Tseng. But maybe this was exactly what he needed, someone to take charge, to

relieve him of all burdens, even if only for a little while.

While Tseng was pushing deep into him, Lazard was thrusting back, until they had matched rhythms, moving in sync, discovering that being with each other, and manipulating each other's bodies, was easier than either had imagined. It was as if this encounter was fated, destined, to happen, and the pair was perfectly suited together.

Lazard clenched his muscles, forcing his inner walls to constrict tightly around Tseng's cock, adding a new level of sensation for both of them. "Fuck me...iTseng/i... fuck... harder... iplease/i...oh my fucking igoddess/i I love your cock!" Lazard couldn't stop the string of ecstatic curses flowing off his tongue. The Turk was pounding hard into him now, pulling on his cock with just the right amount of pressure and at the perfect tempo and Lazard was on the brink of shooting his cum all over Tseng's hand. "Smack... my... ass again... please?" The director begged.

Tseng smirked at the outburst. It was getting more and more difficult for him to hold off his orgasm, and he was surprised Lazard was lasting this long. That certainly needed to be remedied. "Cum for me, Director... slut," Tseng growled, letting go of Lazard's hair to land a stinging smack on his reddened ass. "Say my name, Lazard," he whispered, "say it when you come." So close, Tseng was so close, hard to hold off, but he had to... had to see Lazard lose control over everything. Had to see the beautiful SOLDIER director overcome with absolute pleasure. Had to see it, because it was the closest he'd ever get to seeing Rufus... and because maybe, just maybe, it would work as a bridge between them... leading somewhere. "Lazard-" One last gasp slipped from his lips unbidden.

Lazard was only too happy to give Tseng what he demanded. Any form of composure the blond may have had, even during such explosive interaction, was gone now. Lazard was left barren, having been stripped down to the cum-craving slut that Tseng was accusing him of being.

"Please Tseng..." Lazard plead, "make me... iTseng.../i ah—fuckmysluttyass—cum... iTseng."/i

The wave of heat washed over him. Lazard's eyes rolled back, his mouth carried his screams and vulgarities, and his hips thrust back against the Turk, using the man's cock as nothing more than a tool to ride out the wave of his orgasm.

"Please...Tseng... cumming... fuckharder... please...please." The SOLDIER director was almost crying; the bolts of pleasure were just that intense. Hot white liquid shot from his throbbing cock to coat Tseng's hand and Lazard's stomach. "Tseng!" Lazard called out one last time, his prick releasing one final burst, before the blond slumped forward, spent, but still wanting Tseng to finish off inside him. "Tseng," he whispered, "please... cum inside me."

"Goddamn," the Turk swore under his breath, blown away by Lazard's reaction, feeling his body flush with heat. "So beautiful," he whispered, "so...ifuck,/i Lazard," he hissed, pounding the blond's slender body, not caring how exhausted he was, not caring about rivalry, or secrecy, or any of it. Sweat caused his black hair to stick to his neck and temples. Tseng groaned loudly as he came, holding Lazard's hips flush against his sticky skin, and he half-collapsed onto Lazard's back, grasping for something to hold onto as he nearly saw stars. "Nngh... ah...La—Lazard," he panted, then decided against talking so soon and wrapped his arms around Lazard's stomach, waiting for his body to cease spasming.

Lazard waited until the Turk pulled out of him before falling forward on the bed. Regaining some semblance of control, he rolled over, wrapped his arms around his bodyguard and pulled him close. Lazard had rarely had the pleasure of being held after sex, and it was something he enjoyed very much. Holding onto Tseng in what some might consider desperation, the director whispered sleepily, "Don't leave me... yet."

Tseng pulled Lazard closer, in an unexplainable display of feeling. He tried stubbornly to think of excuses for why he couldn't bear to leave Lazard, even before he spoke. I feel sorry for him. He needs someone after his outburst. I'm just feeling protective.

He allowed Lazard to put his head on his shoulder, with their chests touching, a light sheen of sweat bonding them together. The messy hair was soft, the skin even softer. Lazard's body was warm, slender, frail almost. Like his brother's. Oh, stop it, Tseng.At the very least he'd remain here until Lazard fell asleep. Then perhaps he'd watch television, or make dinner. Had Lazard had dinner? Perhaps it wasn't his duty to cook for him, but he'd always wanted to cook for Rufus, so why not? Domestic moments were so rare for a Turk.

"I won't," Tseng mumbled, rubbing Lazard's back soothingly.