[ and that makes two of them, because tseng has no doubt that if rufus' father were alive to know that tseng had fucked his son, the former president would have tseng executed on the spot. he might not have loved rufus, or even necessarily cared for him, but he did care deeply about appearances, and nothing speaks to brewing unrest like fraternization between the head of your security forces and your heir apparent...
but luckily, although it feels a little blasphemous to think it, the former president is six feet under and tseng no longer has to worry what he would think if he caught tseng's gaze lingering a little too long on rufus' mouth, the column of his throat, the glimpse of his collarbones visible through the neckline of his robe.
down to rufus' chest, and then up again. tseng's gaze is keen, fixed on rufus as he considers the implication, the offer—ramuh, tseng thinks his body might spontaneously combust. if not for the fact that he's already dressed, he suspects the twitch of his cock would be noticeable. ]
I see. [ it is likely clear from the way he holds himself that tseng is one long live wire of desire. ] And is Rufus going to get on his knees for Tseng, over breakfast?
no subject
but luckily, although it feels a little blasphemous to think it, the former president is six feet under and tseng no longer has to worry what he would think if he caught tseng's gaze lingering a little too long on rufus' mouth, the column of his throat, the glimpse of his collarbones visible through the neckline of his robe.
down to rufus' chest, and then up again. tseng's gaze is keen, fixed on rufus as he considers the implication, the offer—ramuh, tseng thinks his body might spontaneously combust. if not for the fact that he's already dressed, he suspects the twitch of his cock would be noticeable. ]
I see. [ it is likely clear from the way he holds himself that tseng is one long live wire of desire. ] And is Rufus going to get on his knees for Tseng, over breakfast?