I spent a decade and a half being trained in how to vanish from awareness. Being the focus of attention doesn't come naturally to me. Still... I'm glad you enjoyed it. I did too.
Yes. My village was destroyed by the fighting, with me the only survivor. I avoided capture for several weeks before the infantry found me and gave me the choice to go to Midgar and take the application exam.
[ "the choice," tseng says, although they both know that the other option would have been to be gunned down on the spot. ]
There aren't many Wutaians in Midgar, let alone working for the Company. Especially not back then. It behooved me to learn to keep a low profile.
I don't remember who I used to be. My name, my parents... I don't know if I had siblings. I don't know what I smothered to become who I am now. Even so, I don't regret it.
Those things... they no longer exist. I grieved them and I moved forward in their absence. I don't wonder what it would have been like if things were different, because they aren't and they can never be.
What I do know is that the first time I came to see you on the Turks quarters during your house arrest, seeing your mind at work was like looking into the center of a star. I saw your drive and your ambition, and along with it your intelligence and the kindness you prefer no one believe you have at all. You have my loyalty and the loyalty of the Turks not because you demanded it or paid for it but because you earned it. How could I possibly regret that?
Everything you just articulated amounts to trading family for work. You lost people who, it can be assumed if only even statistically speaking, loved you. When you put it the way you just did, I'm not sure I am worth what you gave up to have me.
But I'm willing to consider the possibility that you might have reasons to omit...certain. Assumptions. That you might feel are too ambiguous to presume.
So my question is. Without bringing work into it. Am I an adequate...balance...for a lost family?
To be completely honest with you, Rufus, I don't know. I didn't give anything up, not intentionally--that life was taken from me. But I don't think it serves me, or anyone, to dwell on that, and the exercise doesn't seem meaningful when I don't even remember what it is I'd be losing.
What I do know is that on the balance, what I have now, with you, feels good and right, and that what I feel for you is meaningful enough to be fair to me. For however much that's worth.
I like that. You being completely honest with me. Not that I ever doubted it, just — I thought I should mention that.
[He text bubbles again, a bit.]
It's not the same, but. Being here, I find I don't always miss Midgar as much as I ought to. Because you're here. And I'd rather be here with you than there without you.
[ they've always been able to read each other's little tells; tseng finds that even in text, rufus' words say i love you, too almost as clearly as he ever might do aloud. ]
I'd like to believe that we'd figure it out there, too. Even if it took us a little longer.
And perhaps not in the same manner this all started. Given that it all started with you throwing caution to the wind and having me on my desk. Hardly unwelcome, by the way, but in Midgar there are cameras.
[And maybe that's just another of his little tells, that injection of gentle humor — less deflecting and more just the bashfulness of having been vulnerable, and being understood for it.]
I'm not. Seems my interview with the young hotshot has been canceled, so I'm wide open for you.
Shiva. Did I ever tell you I thought I was dreaming? I thought that for almost a full week until I saw you in the resort, flesh and blood.
[ tseng is relatively sure he's never admitted that to rufus before. not only that he thought he was dreaming, but that the prospect of a wet dream about his boss was welcome enough for tseng to lean into it the way he had. ]
I'll come to you, then. I'd like to make us drinks and then kiss you for a while.
Some of them. Others, you may have to pry from my cold dead hands.
[ that's not true, actually. tseng would tell rufus anything. but he likes the playfulness, the flirting. ]
I'll see you shortly.
[ and indeed, it doesn't take longer than a few minutes for tseng to leave his own suite and make his way to rufus'. the only delay is in retrieving the ingredients for drinks, as he'd promised to make—notably not the whiskey neat that rufus has always professed to like, but fruit juice and peach schnapps and vodka for something akin to the fun cocktails rufus used to drink before the world really sank its claws into him.
he knocks on rufus' door and then steps back, waiting to be let in, a small and unconscious smile settled on his face. ]
[This is the third suite door of Rufus's, now, that Tseng has found his way to since the former's arrival in the resort; tellingly, it's the first of any that Rufus has lived in where the opulence meets his subconscious expectations. Maybe that's why he makes such a stunning contrast to it all when he opens the door to greet Tseng, framed by walls of nearly-white lit with fixtures that cast a yellowy glow and a stunning marble floor inlaid with gold, but himself in a pair of pressed khaki slacks and a blue Oxford shirt with the sleeves rolled to the elbow. Beside him, Darkstar lingers contentedly, vigilant but at ease from having already scented the visitor outside the doors; behind Rufus the penthouse seems to stretch on and on, with numerous doorways dotting the corridor that suggests a little manor all its own.
Leave it to the boy-king of Midgar to finally feel perfectly at ease in a palace like this. His eyes light up at the sight of Tseng on the other side of the doorway, less from any surprise at the visitor and more just from the pleasure of seeing him at all.]
My 4:00, I take it? Good, I had a cancellation. Disappointing, really; something must've scared my new recruit off.
[His smile widens, surprisingly warm; beside him, Darkstar jingles her collar softly, as pleased as Rufus to see her second-favorite person.]
I guess he just couldn't handle the pressure like you.
Oh, how disappointing, [ tseng says, completely deadpan, before he steps into the foyer of rufus' new suite and lets the door close behind him. his free hand comes up briefly to cup rufus' jaw, holding him in place for a brief kiss hello, and then when they pull apart tseng drops his hand to scratch behind darkstar's ears.
for a moment, he's struck by the magnitude of it all: everything that matters most to him in the world, right here in one room. tseng can take or leave the prestige of the shinra company and its aims toward total energy domination, but for the life of him he would never be able to give up the weight of rufus' affectionate gaze when it lands on him and lingers. ]
I brought liquor, [ tseng says once he's toed his shoes off. he lifts the back to demonstrate, making bottles clink lightly together. ] I hope you're in the mood for something sweet.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
— Wait. I'm shifting the subject when we're flirting again. Disregard that.
no subject
It's all right. We have been flirting, you've been flirting back. I don't mind a change of subject now, since you've made your interest clear.
I was young, yes. I was thirteen when I was recruited. Extenuating circumstances, I believe.
no subject
No wonder you developed a knack for blending in and avoiding notice. You had to adapt to life in Midgar.
no subject
[ "the choice," tseng says, although they both know that the other option would have been to be gunned down on the spot. ]
There aren't many Wutaians in Midgar, let alone working for the Company. Especially not back then. It behooved me to learn to keep a low profile.
no subject
We both smothered what we were to become what we had to, didn't we?
no subject
[ again, the typing bubbles. ]
I don't remember who I used to be. My name, my parents... I don't know if I had siblings. I don't know what I smothered to become who I am now. Even so, I don't regret it.
no subject
Impertinent though it might be, I can't resist asking. What made it worth it, that you don't regret it?
no subject
[ surely rufus knew that. ]
no subject
I'm worth that?
no subject
What I do know is that the first time I came to see you on the Turks quarters during your house arrest, seeing your mind at work was like looking into the center of a star. I saw your drive and your ambition, and along with it your intelligence and the kindness you prefer no one believe you have at all. You have my loyalty and the loyalty of the Turks not because you demanded it or paid for it but because you earned it. How could I possibly regret that?
no subject
Can I ask you something? I don't want to sound as though I doubt your position or your commitment to it.
no subject
no subject
But I'm willing to consider the possibility that you might have reasons to omit...certain. Assumptions. That you might feel are too ambiguous to presume.
So my question is. Without bringing work into it. Am I an adequate...balance...for a lost family?
no subject
What I do know is that on the balance, what I have now, with you, feels good and right, and that what I feel for you is meaningful enough to be fair to me. For however much that's worth.
no subject
[He text bubbles again, a bit.]
It's not the same, but. Being here, I find I don't always miss Midgar as much as I ought to. Because you're here. And I'd rather be here with you than there without you.
no subject
I'd like to believe that we'd figure it out there, too. Even if it took us a little longer.
Are you busy?
no subject
[And maybe that's just another of his little tells, that injection of gentle humor — less deflecting and more just the bashfulness of having been vulnerable, and being understood for it.]
I'm not. Seems my interview with the young hotshot has been canceled, so I'm wide open for you.
no subject
[ tseng is relatively sure he's never admitted that to rufus before. not only that he thought he was dreaming, but that the prospect of a wet dream about his boss was welcome enough for tseng to lean into it the way he had. ]
I'll come to you, then. I'd like to make us drinks and then kiss you for a while.
no subject
I'd like that. Maybe you can tell me more about your dreams of me while we're at it.
no subject
[ that's not true, actually. tseng would tell rufus anything. but he likes the playfulness, the flirting. ]
I'll see you shortly.
[ and indeed, it doesn't take longer than a few minutes for tseng to leave his own suite and make his way to rufus'. the only delay is in retrieving the ingredients for drinks, as he'd promised to make—notably not the whiskey neat that rufus has always professed to like, but fruit juice and peach schnapps and vodka for something akin to the fun cocktails rufus used to drink before the world really sank its claws into him.
he knocks on rufus' door and then steps back, waiting to be let in, a small and unconscious smile settled on his face. ]
no subject
Leave it to the boy-king of Midgar to finally feel perfectly at ease in a palace like this. His eyes light up at the sight of Tseng on the other side of the doorway, less from any surprise at the visitor and more just from the pleasure of seeing him at all.]
My 4:00, I take it? Good, I had a cancellation. Disappointing, really; something must've scared my new recruit off.
[His smile widens, surprisingly warm; beside him, Darkstar jingles her collar softly, as pleased as Rufus to see her second-favorite person.]
I guess he just couldn't handle the pressure like you.
no subject
for a moment, he's struck by the magnitude of it all: everything that matters most to him in the world, right here in one room. tseng can take or leave the prestige of the shinra company and its aims toward total energy domination, but for the life of him he would never be able to give up the weight of rufus' affectionate gaze when it lands on him and lingers. ]
I brought liquor, [ tseng says once he's toed his shoes off. he lifts the back to demonstrate, making bottles clink lightly together. ] I hope you're in the mood for something sweet.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)