(no subject)
Title: Gold Rush
Author: vain_flower
Prompt: Final Fantasy VII-Cowboys and Indians
Rating: R
Word count: 2200+
A/N: Nashoba is Choctaw for "wolf", just so you know. Though this isn't supposed to take place anywhere or anytime really in particular.
Summary: Rufus Shinra came to the west seeking gold, but things don't go as planned.
Wednesday
Rufus Shinra lifted a hand to shade his eyes from the setting sun. The warm air was choked with dust from the day’s activities, smelling strongly of horses and leather.
He was here, like the other members of the newly formed town, to find gold in the mountains. As soon as word of the original placer miners’ success got out, the town had sprung up nearly overnight. But with the supply of gold in the stream beds disappearing all too fast, the only solution was to continue upstream to find the source of the gold.
However, a few unforeseen problems had arisen. Namely, the hills that they wanted to mine had been allotted to a local Indian tribe years ago, before anyone had known their worth, and the negotiations were going poorly.
He’d been trying to coerce the chief of the tribe to reveal the location of the gold, but no such luck. But he hadn’t come all the way from New York to be defied what he wanted. He had held a lot of power in the city, but that didn’t seem to mean much to the Indians.
Most of the townsfolk, however, knew exactly who he was and why he was here. His father had made a fortune mining before moving to New York and starting his business-Rufus was looking to expand that fortune. He had already sent a few men out when gold had been found in the streams, but he felt that the current situation needed his immediate presence.
He was currently staying in the best room of the hotel, waiting for the moment that he got his way, and his gold. And really, he considered himself to be a patient man, but in all honesty the slow negotiations were absolutely infuriating. He’d gone through so much for these Indians-doing his best to secure them land in compensation for their move. They were damn lucky he hadn’t just killed them already.
But they knew just as he did, the poor quality of the land he was trying to bribe them with.
Scowling in frustration he turned and stalked toward the inn. He snarled at the barmaid, not even glancing at her, ordering a bottle of whiskey to be brought up to his room.
Reaching for the keys inside his pocket, he paused outside the door, which was slightly ajar. He reached for his gun instead, and eased the door open with his shoulder. Tseng stood at the window, turning slightly as the door’s hinges creaked.
Rufus allowed himself to relax slightly, holstering his gun and closing the door behind him. “Did you want something?” he asked. He laid a hand on the neatly made bed, smoothing out an imaginary wrinkle.
He pretended to be interested in the pattern of the coverlet while Tseng hesitated. His frustration grew as the silence stretched on; Tseng never came into the town with anything but bad news.
“I wanted to tell you,” he began, “that Nashoba… Nashoba is not planning to accept your offer.”
“I see,” Rufus said slowly. “And your father felt he had to send you to tell me this? Tomorrow-”
“Tomorrow he is planning an ambush.”
Rufus lifted his eyes from the coverlet to glare at Tseng sharply. “I see,” he said again. “I have to admit I’m a little surprised you’re telling me this.”
“He knows he cannot win against you, that troops will be here shortly to forcibly move us if we don’t comply with your demands. I only-”
“Are you saying, then, that it’s his intention to kill me tomorrow?” He took a few steps forward, brining himself almost chest to chest with Tseng.
Tseng didn’t reply, which Rufus figured was as good as agreement. He was close enough to smell the smoky scent clinging to Tseng’s long dark hair, staring up into equally dark eyes.
“I-please,” Tseng said, voice dropping into a low murmur, “I only ask that you spare his life.”
Rufus laughed. “You are in no position to ask favors of me, Tseng.”
The last thing he expected was for Tseng to hit him. Stumbling backwards, Rufus let out a curse. Lifting a hand gingerly to his mouth, he was furious to find blood beneath his fingers. He was a fraction of a second away from snarling a particularly inventive death threat when he found himself slammed into the wall, the breath knocked right out of him.
“If you will not do me this favor, then I will make it an order,” Tseng said, voice cool. While Rufus was still struggling to regain his breath, he continued, “If anyone of my tribe should die tomorrow, by your hands, or by the hands of your men, then I will take great pleasure in making the remainder of your days here as excruciating as possible.”
Rufus fell to the floor when Tseng stepped back, and lay panting at the dark haired man’s feet. He spat blood onto the clean wooden floor. “You son of a bitch,” he gasped.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Mr. Shinra.”
The barmaid hesitated outside of his room as Tseng sidled past her. Standing up and brushing dust from his pants, he told her to leave the booze and get the hell out. When he looked up, she was gone, the bottle of whiskey standing in the hall. He retrieved it, went back into his room and flicked the lock.
The alcohol burned his lip where it had split, and down his throat as he took a drink. Death threat or not, he was going to kill Chief Nashoba in the morning.
Thursday
Rufus woke early, a feeble gray light visible through his window. He’d already talked to the men he had hired about Nashoba’s plot. If they did what he asked them to, then he knew that things should go down without a hitch. He would deal with Tseng later.
He touched his lip carefully, wincing at the swollen flesh that met his fingers. Yes, he would make Tseng pay for what he’d said and done.
He checked to make sure his guns were properly hidden; no weapons were allowed during negotiations. Rufus smiled, imagining Nashoba trying to hide a bow and some arrows on his person.
He waited for nearly an hour at the bar downstairs, watching the light grow and picking at the breakfast the inn’s owner had made for him. His men came into the inn after shafts of dusty sunlight stretched long across the room. Fortunately, they had good news. As Rufus had asked, they’d informed the more trustworthy men of the town of their plan to kill Nashoba, and anyone else who resisted them.
“Did you tell them-”
“Not to kill Tseng?” one of them interrupted. “Yeah. So what’s the big deal about this guy, you seem awfully concerned about his safety.” The two of them tried, and failed, not to snicker to themselves.
They stopped laughing as soon as Rufus pulled his gun out. “I want to do away with him personally,” Rufus said, pretending to inspect his gun closely.
“Y-yeah, sure thing, boss.”
“Get out. I’ll see you at town square at half past ten.” He slipped his gun back into the inside pocket of his vest as soon as they left.
He met the chief and some of his tribesmen a little before ten thirty. He couldn’t see any obvious weapons, though he supposed they could easily conceal knives from him. Tseng was there, unsurprisingly, watching him closely.
Everyone seemed uneasy, quieter than usual.
After they were all seated, Nashoba spoke. “We have come to a decision about the bargain you wish to strike with us.”
Rufus smiled, trying to appear as though he genuinely didn’t know what Nashoba was about to say.
“We will not move to this new land. The hills are ours.”
Rufus’s smiled widened. “I was afraid you might say that.” He reached for his gun.
As Tseng promised, the tribesmen leapt into action, Tseng included. He had barely pulled his gun out before the larger man was on top of him, trying to wrestle it away from him.
Rufus laughed, aimed his gun as best as he could, and fired a shot. Tseng froze for the barest of seconds, but it was enough for Rufus to push him off and get back to his feet. He hadn’t managed to hit anything but the side of a building, far to the right of Nashoba.
Without Tseng to distract him, though, the next shot hit its mark. Nashoba was dead.
The rest of the scuffle didn’t last long, though Rufus didn’t stick around to see how it ended. Whatever nasty plans Tseng had in mind for him, he wasn’t worried in the slightest. And when he decided to come after Rufus, well, there was a bullet with his name on it.
That night, Rufus didn’t even bother locking his door, stashing a pistol beneath his pillow. He was a light enough sleeper that any sign of an intruder would wake him.
Friday
Rufus was honestly a little disappointed the next morning when he woke up to the sounds of the inn’s patrons downstairs and the horses outside.
Reaching for his pistol he paused, stomach giving a little flip. His gun was gone. He searched through the covers and beneath the bed for a moment, heart beating hard. Tseng must have come in the night, and not have woken him. He was trying to prove a point, Rufus knew, trying to shake him up a bit.
Rufus refused to admit to himself that it was working.
He spent the following few hours a little jumpy, though as the day wore on, he grew more and more agitated. If Tseng was going to kill him, Rufus would appreciate it if he didn’t take his sweet fucking time about it.
Finally, as the sun was going down, he decided to take matters into his own hand. He was pleased to find the rest of his guns where he had left them the night before, grabbed one, and went to look for Tseng.
He was just outside of the town when he heard a twig snap behind him. He turned, searching the long shadows of the building for any movement. He pulled his gun out slowly, readying himself for what was next.
“Drop it,” Tseng hissed low in his ear, the point of a spear sharp at his throat before he even had the chance to blink.
Heart thudding loud in his chest, he replied, “Give me one good reason why I ought to.”
The pointed head pressed harder against his neck. He felt the skin break, slightly, and the warm trickle of blood drip down into the collar of his shirt. “I didn’t think you would so easily accept death.”
“Well, that’s the point, isn’t it?” he asked when Tseng lightened the pressure of the spear. “To kill me?”
Tseng laughed, probably the most terrifying sound he’s made since Rufus was accosted by him. “Did you think that was my plan? Why would I kill you, when I could take much more pleasure in watching you suffer? Until you leave these hills, you will know nothing but humiliation. Drop your weapon.”
Rufus dropped his gun only when Tseng tightened his grip and raised the spear point to his face. Rufus groaned when the other man kicked it far out of his reach.
He was steeling himself for Tseng to use the spear to cut him again, but that too, was tossed aside.
He nearly let out an undignified shriek when Tseng’s now free hand reached down to stroke his cock through the fabric of his pants. The indrawn hiss of air wasn’t much better, not when he could feel the way it made Tseng smile against his neck.
“You… you son of a bitch,” Rufus gasped, writhing. It wasn’t long before Tseng had undone the buttons, and was reaching inside to wrap his hand around Rufus’s rapidly hardening cock. “Someone, someone will see!”
“As long as you’re quiet,” Tseng said, and Rufus could hear the humor in his voice, “then we won’t have a problem.”
Tseng shoved him roughly Rufus to the ground and turned him to straddle the blonde’s hips. Rufus thrashed beneath him, but fell back gasping for breath when it got him nowhere. Tseng’s grip was tight on his arm, promising bruises, but his lips were gentle when they pressed against Rufus’s.
Rufus let out a startled moan, face heating up at how readily he was responding to Tseng’s touches, and let the dark haired man’s tongue dip between his lips and tangle with his own.
Tseng pulled back, eyes intense enough that Rufus turned his head slightly, closing his eyes. He was stuck with the image of Tseng above him, face flushed and lips slightly swollen from kissing, the moon lighting his hair from behind.
Tseng leaned forward again, this time to whisper in Rufus’s ear, “I’m going to fuck you. I’m going to make you beg, and scream, and I will break you.”
Rufus was half terrified, and more than ready to act like it if it meant Tseng would kiss him like that again. Gasping and writhing, he tried not to smile when Tseng’s hand slid up his shirt, not entirely ready for the promise he saw in Tseng’s eyes, but more than eager for the taste of the other man on his lips.
Sorry I'm a few minutes late! I was seeing Rocky Horror Picture Show live for the first time. ^^;
Author: vain_flower
Prompt: Final Fantasy VII-Cowboys and Indians
Rating: R
Word count: 2200+
A/N: Nashoba is Choctaw for "wolf", just so you know. Though this isn't supposed to take place anywhere or anytime really in particular.
Summary: Rufus Shinra came to the west seeking gold, but things don't go as planned.
Wednesday
Rufus Shinra lifted a hand to shade his eyes from the setting sun. The warm air was choked with dust from the day’s activities, smelling strongly of horses and leather.
He was here, like the other members of the newly formed town, to find gold in the mountains. As soon as word of the original placer miners’ success got out, the town had sprung up nearly overnight. But with the supply of gold in the stream beds disappearing all too fast, the only solution was to continue upstream to find the source of the gold.
However, a few unforeseen problems had arisen. Namely, the hills that they wanted to mine had been allotted to a local Indian tribe years ago, before anyone had known their worth, and the negotiations were going poorly.
He’d been trying to coerce the chief of the tribe to reveal the location of the gold, but no such luck. But he hadn’t come all the way from New York to be defied what he wanted. He had held a lot of power in the city, but that didn’t seem to mean much to the Indians.
Most of the townsfolk, however, knew exactly who he was and why he was here. His father had made a fortune mining before moving to New York and starting his business-Rufus was looking to expand that fortune. He had already sent a few men out when gold had been found in the streams, but he felt that the current situation needed his immediate presence.
He was currently staying in the best room of the hotel, waiting for the moment that he got his way, and his gold. And really, he considered himself to be a patient man, but in all honesty the slow negotiations were absolutely infuriating. He’d gone through so much for these Indians-doing his best to secure them land in compensation for their move. They were damn lucky he hadn’t just killed them already.
But they knew just as he did, the poor quality of the land he was trying to bribe them with.
Scowling in frustration he turned and stalked toward the inn. He snarled at the barmaid, not even glancing at her, ordering a bottle of whiskey to be brought up to his room.
Reaching for the keys inside his pocket, he paused outside the door, which was slightly ajar. He reached for his gun instead, and eased the door open with his shoulder. Tseng stood at the window, turning slightly as the door’s hinges creaked.
Rufus allowed himself to relax slightly, holstering his gun and closing the door behind him. “Did you want something?” he asked. He laid a hand on the neatly made bed, smoothing out an imaginary wrinkle.
He pretended to be interested in the pattern of the coverlet while Tseng hesitated. His frustration grew as the silence stretched on; Tseng never came into the town with anything but bad news.
“I wanted to tell you,” he began, “that Nashoba… Nashoba is not planning to accept your offer.”
“I see,” Rufus said slowly. “And your father felt he had to send you to tell me this? Tomorrow-”
“Tomorrow he is planning an ambush.”
Rufus lifted his eyes from the coverlet to glare at Tseng sharply. “I see,” he said again. “I have to admit I’m a little surprised you’re telling me this.”
“He knows he cannot win against you, that troops will be here shortly to forcibly move us if we don’t comply with your demands. I only-”
“Are you saying, then, that it’s his intention to kill me tomorrow?” He took a few steps forward, brining himself almost chest to chest with Tseng.
Tseng didn’t reply, which Rufus figured was as good as agreement. He was close enough to smell the smoky scent clinging to Tseng’s long dark hair, staring up into equally dark eyes.
“I-please,” Tseng said, voice dropping into a low murmur, “I only ask that you spare his life.”
Rufus laughed. “You are in no position to ask favors of me, Tseng.”
The last thing he expected was for Tseng to hit him. Stumbling backwards, Rufus let out a curse. Lifting a hand gingerly to his mouth, he was furious to find blood beneath his fingers. He was a fraction of a second away from snarling a particularly inventive death threat when he found himself slammed into the wall, the breath knocked right out of him.
“If you will not do me this favor, then I will make it an order,” Tseng said, voice cool. While Rufus was still struggling to regain his breath, he continued, “If anyone of my tribe should die tomorrow, by your hands, or by the hands of your men, then I will take great pleasure in making the remainder of your days here as excruciating as possible.”
Rufus fell to the floor when Tseng stepped back, and lay panting at the dark haired man’s feet. He spat blood onto the clean wooden floor. “You son of a bitch,” he gasped.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Mr. Shinra.”
The barmaid hesitated outside of his room as Tseng sidled past her. Standing up and brushing dust from his pants, he told her to leave the booze and get the hell out. When he looked up, she was gone, the bottle of whiskey standing in the hall. He retrieved it, went back into his room and flicked the lock.
The alcohol burned his lip where it had split, and down his throat as he took a drink. Death threat or not, he was going to kill Chief Nashoba in the morning.
Thursday
Rufus woke early, a feeble gray light visible through his window. He’d already talked to the men he had hired about Nashoba’s plot. If they did what he asked them to, then he knew that things should go down without a hitch. He would deal with Tseng later.
He touched his lip carefully, wincing at the swollen flesh that met his fingers. Yes, he would make Tseng pay for what he’d said and done.
He checked to make sure his guns were properly hidden; no weapons were allowed during negotiations. Rufus smiled, imagining Nashoba trying to hide a bow and some arrows on his person.
He waited for nearly an hour at the bar downstairs, watching the light grow and picking at the breakfast the inn’s owner had made for him. His men came into the inn after shafts of dusty sunlight stretched long across the room. Fortunately, they had good news. As Rufus had asked, they’d informed the more trustworthy men of the town of their plan to kill Nashoba, and anyone else who resisted them.
“Did you tell them-”
“Not to kill Tseng?” one of them interrupted. “Yeah. So what’s the big deal about this guy, you seem awfully concerned about his safety.” The two of them tried, and failed, not to snicker to themselves.
They stopped laughing as soon as Rufus pulled his gun out. “I want to do away with him personally,” Rufus said, pretending to inspect his gun closely.
“Y-yeah, sure thing, boss.”
“Get out. I’ll see you at town square at half past ten.” He slipped his gun back into the inside pocket of his vest as soon as they left.
He met the chief and some of his tribesmen a little before ten thirty. He couldn’t see any obvious weapons, though he supposed they could easily conceal knives from him. Tseng was there, unsurprisingly, watching him closely.
Everyone seemed uneasy, quieter than usual.
After they were all seated, Nashoba spoke. “We have come to a decision about the bargain you wish to strike with us.”
Rufus smiled, trying to appear as though he genuinely didn’t know what Nashoba was about to say.
“We will not move to this new land. The hills are ours.”
Rufus’s smiled widened. “I was afraid you might say that.” He reached for his gun.
As Tseng promised, the tribesmen leapt into action, Tseng included. He had barely pulled his gun out before the larger man was on top of him, trying to wrestle it away from him.
Rufus laughed, aimed his gun as best as he could, and fired a shot. Tseng froze for the barest of seconds, but it was enough for Rufus to push him off and get back to his feet. He hadn’t managed to hit anything but the side of a building, far to the right of Nashoba.
Without Tseng to distract him, though, the next shot hit its mark. Nashoba was dead.
The rest of the scuffle didn’t last long, though Rufus didn’t stick around to see how it ended. Whatever nasty plans Tseng had in mind for him, he wasn’t worried in the slightest. And when he decided to come after Rufus, well, there was a bullet with his name on it.
That night, Rufus didn’t even bother locking his door, stashing a pistol beneath his pillow. He was a light enough sleeper that any sign of an intruder would wake him.
Friday
Rufus was honestly a little disappointed the next morning when he woke up to the sounds of the inn’s patrons downstairs and the horses outside.
Reaching for his pistol he paused, stomach giving a little flip. His gun was gone. He searched through the covers and beneath the bed for a moment, heart beating hard. Tseng must have come in the night, and not have woken him. He was trying to prove a point, Rufus knew, trying to shake him up a bit.
Rufus refused to admit to himself that it was working.
He spent the following few hours a little jumpy, though as the day wore on, he grew more and more agitated. If Tseng was going to kill him, Rufus would appreciate it if he didn’t take his sweet fucking time about it.
Finally, as the sun was going down, he decided to take matters into his own hand. He was pleased to find the rest of his guns where he had left them the night before, grabbed one, and went to look for Tseng.
He was just outside of the town when he heard a twig snap behind him. He turned, searching the long shadows of the building for any movement. He pulled his gun out slowly, readying himself for what was next.
“Drop it,” Tseng hissed low in his ear, the point of a spear sharp at his throat before he even had the chance to blink.
Heart thudding loud in his chest, he replied, “Give me one good reason why I ought to.”
The pointed head pressed harder against his neck. He felt the skin break, slightly, and the warm trickle of blood drip down into the collar of his shirt. “I didn’t think you would so easily accept death.”
“Well, that’s the point, isn’t it?” he asked when Tseng lightened the pressure of the spear. “To kill me?”
Tseng laughed, probably the most terrifying sound he’s made since Rufus was accosted by him. “Did you think that was my plan? Why would I kill you, when I could take much more pleasure in watching you suffer? Until you leave these hills, you will know nothing but humiliation. Drop your weapon.”
Rufus dropped his gun only when Tseng tightened his grip and raised the spear point to his face. Rufus groaned when the other man kicked it far out of his reach.
He was steeling himself for Tseng to use the spear to cut him again, but that too, was tossed aside.
He nearly let out an undignified shriek when Tseng’s now free hand reached down to stroke his cock through the fabric of his pants. The indrawn hiss of air wasn’t much better, not when he could feel the way it made Tseng smile against his neck.
“You… you son of a bitch,” Rufus gasped, writhing. It wasn’t long before Tseng had undone the buttons, and was reaching inside to wrap his hand around Rufus’s rapidly hardening cock. “Someone, someone will see!”
“As long as you’re quiet,” Tseng said, and Rufus could hear the humor in his voice, “then we won’t have a problem.”
Tseng shoved him roughly Rufus to the ground and turned him to straddle the blonde’s hips. Rufus thrashed beneath him, but fell back gasping for breath when it got him nowhere. Tseng’s grip was tight on his arm, promising bruises, but his lips were gentle when they pressed against Rufus’s.
Rufus let out a startled moan, face heating up at how readily he was responding to Tseng’s touches, and let the dark haired man’s tongue dip between his lips and tangle with his own.
Tseng pulled back, eyes intense enough that Rufus turned his head slightly, closing his eyes. He was stuck with the image of Tseng above him, face flushed and lips slightly swollen from kissing, the moon lighting his hair from behind.
Tseng leaned forward again, this time to whisper in Rufus’s ear, “I’m going to fuck you. I’m going to make you beg, and scream, and I will break you.”
Rufus was half terrified, and more than ready to act like it if it meant Tseng would kiss him like that again. Gasping and writhing, he tried not to smile when Tseng’s hand slid up his shirt, not entirely ready for the promise he saw in Tseng’s eyes, but more than eager for the taste of the other man on his lips.
Sorry I'm a few minutes late! I was seeing Rocky Horror Picture Show live for the first time. ^^;