There was no point in glaring at the door. Tseng wasn't going to come back just because Rufus tried to burn holes in it with that glare. But that didn't stop Rufus from trying. Well, at least he tried for a few minutes, as his heart, head, and body attempted to settle, as his breaths evened out. As his indifference sprinkled with misery took back over.

In those fleeting moments though, he replayed the last moments in his head: Tseng straddling him, kissing him, and even wanting him.

He did want me. ...Right? Yeah, he did. He did. He...

It had been going so unbelievably right, or, at least, a certain part of him seemed to think it was going down the right path to bliss. And then it had all gone so disturbingly wrong without a breath of warning. Tseng had made a fullout stop and had basically run from him, even when Rufus had ordered him to get back into the bed.

Ordered him? Yes, I ordered him into my bed...

"God, what's wrong with me?" Rufus growled, leaning forward as he crossed his legs again, burying his face in his hands.

Did he always have to act so contrary to how every other normal human being would? Did everything in him have view every interaction he had with others as chance to control and manipulate them? Why did he war with his every breath when he didn't want to?

Well, not anymore, at least. His father was dead. Rufus no longer tried to rule the planet with an iron fist, although he still did attempt to sway things for a mutual benefit. The joys of having gobs of money...

But, back to his own illogical behavior, what was the point of continuing on with so many self-imposed protections, so much anger and vengefulness? Couldn't he let go of the past? Or was it so ingrained that it was simply who he was now? Or perhaps always had been.

And did he really desire death so much?

He gazed at the marks trailing up the skin of an arm in the nearly non-existent light. He traced a finger over it.

That stupid, foolish Turk had touched the markings when Tseng had grabbed him, when Rufus had only been thinking about the man's body against his own. Rufus' fingers trailed where he could still feel the man's forceful grasp. Now, after the fact, the remembrance of touch tensed his body instead. He prayed the doctors were right and that it wasn't contagious.

Teeth gritting, he tried to not think about it anymore. He turned his attention instead to the plate of now cold food, the symbol of what had started all of this. His heart burned just looking at it.

Trembling fingers grabbed the plate, settling it down onto his crossed legs, picked up the fork, and brought a piece to his sputtering mouth. When it touched his lips, he broke down with a sob and dropped the fork. It clattered to the plate, making him jolt.

Why couldn't anyone understand that he wanted punishment? That he deserved pain?

He wanted and deserved death for everything wrong he'd done in his life, mostly on purpose.

Instead of eating, he put the plate to the side of the bed, curled up on his side, and let the tearless sobs, that were more just gaspings for breath, fill the room until an exhausted sleep claimed him.

The next morning, he awoke to distant chatter. Well, it'd seemed distant until he opened his eyes and realized people were standing right next to his bed. One of the doctors he recognized, Ms. Reed. The other person was his personal housekeeper, Rose.

Rufus tried to make out their words, but they sounded like blurbs of nothing. He bent his arm, trying to bring it to his face to rub the drowsiness out of it, but stilled it when a shot of pain hit him. He looked down at it and realized he had an IV going into it. How could he have slept through getting an IV in? He must have been passed out completely. He brought his other hand to his face and rubbed it harshly to get the grogginess out of his head. It didn't help much, if at all.

At Rufus' motion, the doctor turned her head and then crouched down to his level. "You're dehydrated, Mr. Shinra. We're taking care of that." She smiled. "It's a good thing you don't drink alcohol or you'd be worse off. I want you to stay in bed today. And eat something. I've been told you haven't been eating. You need to keep your strength up to fight this..." The woman cleared her throat. "And about that..."

Blue eyes opened to eye her and her sudden apprehension. Whatever it was, he had the distinct feeling he wasn't going to like it.

The doctor turned her head to the other people in the room. "If you could leave us, please."

Within a few moments, the other two walked out the door and closed it softly behind themselves. Then her full attention turned back to Rufus.

"As you know, people are blaming mako for the illness. But we've run some tests on it. It's definitely not mako poisoning. And it's not a virus or bacteria." She pressed her lips together and looked to his hand. "It's, well, it's not anything we've ever seen before.

"But, as you know, this epidemic started after that meteor. And... one of our lab assistants had a hunch. We compared it to biological samples that were recovered from Shin-Ra Headquarters." She looked him fully in the eye, her own disbelief shining brightly. "It's Sephiroth. His cells. But they've somehow mutated into something that can infect a human host."

"You're saying Sephiroth's cells are in me?" Rufus huffed and looked to the ceiling. "That's just fucking brilliant. This is a punishment, isn't it?"

This was his punishment for what he'd done. Even for what he'd attempted to do. For what generations of his family had done.

I deserve this. I deserve all of it. Can't Tseng understand that?

"Sir, it's not a punishment. There are many others who are showing signs of it, children, elders. You know it's not just you."

Rufus pressed his lips together, his stomach turning over, considering everything and every consequence it brought with it. He suddenly had the strong impulse to rip his own arm off. Instead he merely clenched its fist. "Don't share this with anyone. If anything, it'll cause a panic and people will die. It's better the public doesn't know the truth until a cure can be found. If it ever can be found."

He saw her nod out of the corner of his eye. "Yes, sir." She stood back up and rested a hand on his arm. "Rest. And don't wait too long to go to the bathroom, if you need to. It'll probably hit you fast as your body tries to flush out toxins. I'm leaving another saline bag with Rose. Let it empty and try to eat something, broth preferably, in the meantime. I know it won't feel good to eat, but you'll feel better afterwards. Honestly, Mr. Shinra, you're doing this to yourself. Your body is strong, even though it has been fighting this for a while. Your illness is still only at the beginning stages, unlike other people."

When he didn't answer, merely closed his eyes, she gave his arm a squeeze and then picked up her things and walked to the door.

Rufus spent the day in bed, only getting up to use the bathroom, still refusing food. He really didn't want to leave the softness of it even for that. The idea of Sephiroth inside of him, being an unwilling carrier to whatever devious purpose those cells had, it made him physically ill. On top of everything else, the knowledge simply drained too much out of him to bother getting up to face the world. And it wasn't like the world needed him anymore anyway, if it ever had.

Tseng crossed his mind over and over again until his face became almost a constant hum in his mind. Would the man ever want to touch him again, if he knew what was inside of him? Well, would he ever touch him again either way, outside of his duties which rarely involved physical contact?

Rufus couldn't get the memory of soft lips out of his mind. He'd had no idea the Turk could be so soft, so willing and unwilling at the same time.

Yes, Tseng had wanted him. Rufus couldn't doubt that, not when a large and growing part of him only wanted to encourage the man on. And at a time when, ironically, Rufus could no longer have him, adding significant pain to the punishment he deserved.

Whether or not Tseng wanted him, Rufus wasn't going to let Tseng touch ever again. It was a barrier that needed to be there to keep Tseng safe. That was the least Rufus could do after so many years of devoted service. Besides, Rufus was disgusted with what was inside of him, enough for both himself and for the Turk.

The next morning, having had no visitors except for the doctor and Rose, Rufus was no more determined to get out of bed. But he did anyway. He couldn't stand the stale stink of himself anymore. He made his way to the bathroom with uneven footsteps, glad when he finally reached the doorframe so he could grab it to catch his breath.

God, he really needed to eat something or he was going to fall on his face. How many days had it been now since he'd more or less stopped eating? Five? Six? He wasn't even sure.

Carefully, supporting his way with trembling limbs, he made it into the shower and finally stripped off the clothes he'd been wearing for the last two days, tossing them outside. Then he turned on just the hot water, jerking to the side when only cold still came out. Quickly, it heated, and he turned on the cold a bit as well, until the water just bordered on too hot. The heat felt wonderful to his chilled skin, even if a bit overwhelming.

His face buried itself in the steady stream so that he couldn't breathe. He took a few gulps of sickly hot water before he lowered his head and let it flood down his back. Looking down at his nakedness, he could already see signs of his lack of food. He'd always had little fat to him. Now his body was clearly eating muscle to stay alive. The sight disturbed him to no end, but he also wondered what it'd look like even thinner.

Rufus had practically drowned himself before he backed up and rubbed at his eyes. He turned around to get the hair out of his face, but as he did, he realized someone was at the bathroom doorway. The figure couldn't be seen clearly though the textured and frosted glass keeping the water in. But he knew who it was by the height, suit and hair.

And, yes, Tseng had seen him in this state before as well. About the only state the Turk hadn't caught in him was when he was finding his way into a temporary lover.

"What is it," Rufus' throat cracked out, much to his dismay. He realized he hadn't talked since the morning before.

Tseng remained silent, a statue in the fogginess of the bathroom. The stare made Rufus harden in ways he was vaguely surprised his body still wanted to bother with. The joys of being twenty-six.

Rufus rested his back against the delicately tiled wall, stiffening at the coldness there, but not letting himself draw away. He needed the support.

"What, Tseng? Do you want to join me?" he purred out, half serious. But Tseng wouldn't dare. Surely he wouldn't.

Tseng continued to merely stand there as water pummeled the harness at the former president's groin. Rufus grabbed the length, pulling it towards his stomach, trying to save it from the assault. It felt too overpowering, overwhelming his senses. His hand felt little better, as he pulled it up.

Holding himself while this man watched, it was a, well, interesting experience, especially when he only wanted it to be Tseng's hand on him and not his own too familiar one.

Could the Turk see what he was holding? Surely the glass only hinted at it. As Tseng watched, he took a tentative stroke and closed his eyes as the sensation brought both pleasure and nausea. It was a confusing mix, but his body was naturally primed for such attention, so he stroked again and moaned lightly deep in his throat. Could the man hear that over the water? Maybe.

Then he saw it: The fuzzy display of the other man's arm moving, his pale hand over the front of the black suit. Rufus latched onto the sight and let it drive his hand over and over again, pulling out quickening breaths, picking up his dizziness. Tseng's hand didn't seem to be moving, merely grasping, but Rufus didn't let that detour him. It took a minute before his sack tightened completely, but he brought himself to an orgasm that hurt as much as it brought him pleasure, calling out weakly, sounds which nonetheless managed to echoed in the bathroom.

Well, that had been a mistake. Almost immediately afterwards, his body deathly exhausted, Rufus slid his back down the tiles until his backside hit the floor. He sat there, his legs sprawled out, not caring what Tseng thought of him. He was too drained to care. His head was fucking killing him. He had to battle to retain consciousness.

Not knowing how long he sat there, soon though, the water was turned off and a towel and strong hands wrapped around him, pulling him up to his feet. He looked up at his employee, finally feeling tinges of embarrassment with the apprehension in those beautiful dark eyes. He didn't want to see Tseng's emotions though, so he closed his eyes again and let the other man towel him off, completely forgetting his determination to not let Tseng touch him again. He barely felt near caresses.

Then, surprising him somewhere in his out-of-it mind, hands covered his cheeks and Tseng's forehead met his. He felt the barest touch of his nose against his own. Tseng's breaths felt heavy against his face.

"Rufus..."

Was the man finally giving up on him? Realizing that this was a lost cause? If so, it was about damn time.