[Incomplete] - Ken and Rufus
Who: Rufus Shinra (the Shin-Ra one, not the SOLDIER one) and Ken
When: Tonight? Last night? One of those.
Where: Rufus' apartment under the Shin-Ra building
Rating: TBA
Warnings: TBA
Summary: Ken decided to let Rufus know the sorts of rumours Schuldig is spreading about him...and find out if there's any truth to them.
As they descended the stairs to Rufus' apartments, Ken tried in vain to convince himself that he had not been acting inappropriately, performing unnecessary recon, 'spying' on a senior Turk's private affairs. That was the first bit of all this that bothered him.
The second was that the source of information was utterly unreliable. 'Questionable' was too kind an adjective.
And yet...
...and yet...
Perhaps, he decided finally, it was because he wanted it to be true. He had given it credence because...he frankly hoped it had credence. --not the parts about Rude and Jericho. Those mental images would haunt him. Though if they were true--and if part was, all was--well, that was Rufus' business. He was a man now, with needs--like any of them. On whom he chose to exorcise those needs was not Ken's affair...unless. It was.
And why was he clenching his fist so hard right now?
Because the thought of Rufus underneath anyone else was...upsetting?
Perhaps it was just another symptom of the overprotectiveness that had surfaced in him lately. A fatherly concern, perhaps--
No.
Ken discarded that idea. He could not even pretend to nurture it with the thoughts he'd been having about Rufus lately.
When he had first realised, he had questioned himself mercilessly. Was this a carry-over from the feelings Ken still cherished for his mother? Was it some nostalgic attempt to return to his youth? Was there some intangible quality that reminded him of Math, and therefore...triggered reactions which had nothing to do with Rufus himself?
What it always came back to was Rufus' own pure animal magnetism. It was difficult to be in a room with the president and not look at him. It never kept Ken from doing his job--even now, distraught as he was, his senses were trained around them, prepared for the slightest sign of a threat--but it was tempting, like a silk veil on the periphery of his mind, within reach, but only if a sacrifice was first made.
He growled at himself for his weakness. Allowed his eyes to rest on the white-clad shoulders in front of him, kept them from moving downward as they seemed to wish to do. ...Rufus. Why was this happening? It made things so unnecessarily complicated.
But it could all be done away with. Discipline was the key. And information.
Once he knew for himself that the words were a lie, that Rufus had no attraction to or designs on any of his Turks, this could all be dispensed with. And it would be back to business as usual.
In the end, that was Ken's excuse for bringing this up.
He needed to get back to work. But he couldn't while his eyes were constantly drawn to the moonlight on Rufus' pale skin, giving it a soft glow, smooth and perfect as the fine porcelain his grandfather used to paint. Tempting him to touch and see for himself just how it would feel under his hands...
There were so many other scenarios which led down the same road.
But he would have his peace of mind soon, Ken promised himself. This would all be over in a matter of minutes.
At the door to Rufus' apartments, Ken made certain the landing was secure and then briefly touched the president's waist, moving forward ahead of him to make certain the apartment itself was secure before beckoning Rufus in. It was an unconscious gesture, one of his 'accidental' touches that were likely appearing more and more lately as his mind descended to places it did not belong. But whereas they had been intentional touches when Ken had begun with his mother, they were not consciously so with Rufus. It was just another symptom of the obsessive disease which drew Ken to Rufus. He might not have been able to prevent it had he known. But Rufus had yet to comment on it.
When: Tonight? Last night? One of those.
Where: Rufus' apartment under the Shin-Ra building
Rating: TBA
Warnings: TBA
Summary: Ken decided to let Rufus know the sorts of rumours Schuldig is spreading about him...and find out if there's any truth to them.
As they descended the stairs to Rufus' apartments, Ken tried in vain to convince himself that he had not been acting inappropriately, performing unnecessary recon, 'spying' on a senior Turk's private affairs. That was the first bit of all this that bothered him.
The second was that the source of information was utterly unreliable. 'Questionable' was too kind an adjective.
And yet...
...and yet...
Perhaps, he decided finally, it was because he wanted it to be true. He had given it credence because...he frankly hoped it had credence. --not the parts about Rude and Jericho. Those mental images would haunt him. Though if they were true--and if part was, all was--well, that was Rufus' business. He was a man now, with needs--like any of them. On whom he chose to exorcise those needs was not Ken's affair...unless. It was.
And why was he clenching his fist so hard right now?
Because the thought of Rufus underneath anyone else was...upsetting?
Perhaps it was just another symptom of the overprotectiveness that had surfaced in him lately. A fatherly concern, perhaps--
No.
Ken discarded that idea. He could not even pretend to nurture it with the thoughts he'd been having about Rufus lately.
When he had first realised, he had questioned himself mercilessly. Was this a carry-over from the feelings Ken still cherished for his mother? Was it some nostalgic attempt to return to his youth? Was there some intangible quality that reminded him of Math, and therefore...triggered reactions which had nothing to do with Rufus himself?
What it always came back to was Rufus' own pure animal magnetism. It was difficult to be in a room with the president and not look at him. It never kept Ken from doing his job--even now, distraught as he was, his senses were trained around them, prepared for the slightest sign of a threat--but it was tempting, like a silk veil on the periphery of his mind, within reach, but only if a sacrifice was first made.
He growled at himself for his weakness. Allowed his eyes to rest on the white-clad shoulders in front of him, kept them from moving downward as they seemed to wish to do. ...Rufus. Why was this happening? It made things so unnecessarily complicated.
But it could all be done away with. Discipline was the key. And information.
Once he knew for himself that the words were a lie, that Rufus had no attraction to or designs on any of his Turks, this could all be dispensed with. And it would be back to business as usual.
In the end, that was Ken's excuse for bringing this up.
He needed to get back to work. But he couldn't while his eyes were constantly drawn to the moonlight on Rufus' pale skin, giving it a soft glow, smooth and perfect as the fine porcelain his grandfather used to paint. Tempting him to touch and see for himself just how it would feel under his hands...
There were so many other scenarios which led down the same road.
But he would have his peace of mind soon, Ken promised himself. This would all be over in a matter of minutes.
At the door to Rufus' apartments, Ken made certain the landing was secure and then briefly touched the president's waist, moving forward ahead of him to make certain the apartment itself was secure before beckoning Rufus in. It was an unconscious gesture, one of his 'accidental' touches that were likely appearing more and more lately as his mind descended to places it did not belong. But whereas they had been intentional touches when Ken had begun with his mother, they were not consciously so with Rufus. It was just another symptom of the obsessive disease which drew Ken to Rufus. He might not have been able to prevent it had he known. But Rufus had yet to comment on it.